AIAS
'Tis a foolish hope,
If thou shouldst now propose to school my mood.
[The doors are closed upon Aias. Exit Tecmessa
with Eurusakes.]
CHORUS
O famed Salamis, thou amidst
Breaking surges abidest ever
Blissful, a joy to the eyes of all men.
But I the while long and wearily tarrying
Through countless months still encamped on the fields of Ida
In misery here have made my couch,
By time broken and worn,
In dread waiting the hour
When I shall enter at last the terrible shadow abode of Hades.
Now dismays me a new despair,
This incurable frenzy (woe, ah
Woe's me!) cast by the gods on Aias,
Whom thou of old sentest forth from thy shores, a strong
And valiant chief; but now, to his friends a sore grief,
Devouring his lonely heart he sits.
His once glorious deeds
Are now fallen and scorned,
Fallen to death without love from the loveless and pitiless sons of Atreus.
His mother, 'tis most like, burdened with many days,
And whitened with old age, when she shall hear how frenzy
Has smitten his soul to ruin,
Ailinon! ailinon!
Will break forth her despair, not as the nightingale's
Plaintive, tender lament, no, but in passion's wailing
Shrill-toned cries; and with firece strokes
Wildly smiting her bosom,
In grief's anguish her hands will rend her grey locks.
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