Tecmessa (cont.)
And we are no less troubled than before.
Are there not here two ills in place of one?
Chorus
’Tis even so, and much I fear it prove
A stroke from heaven, if indeed, now cured,
He is no gladder than he was when sick.
Tecmessa
His case is as thou sayest, rest assured.
Chorus
But tell us how the plague first struck him down.
We share thy sorrow and would know it all.
Tecmessa
Hear then the story of our common woe.
At dead of night when all the lamps were out,
He took his two-edged sword, as if intent
On some wild expedition. So I chid him,
Saying, “What dost thou, Ajax, why go forth?
No summons, messenger or trumpet blast,
Hath called thee; nay, by now the whole host sleeps.”
He answered lightly with an ancient saw,
“Woman, for women silence is a grace.”
Admonished thus I held my tongue; but he
Sped forth alone. What happened afterwards
I know not, but he came back with his spoil,
Oxen and sheep-dogs with their fleecy charge.
Some he beheads, of some the upturned necks
He cuts, or cleaves the chine; others again
He buffeted and mangled in their bonds,
Mauling the beasts, as if they had been men.
At last he darted through the door and held