Cling to his own belief, as I to mine.
Abridge thy large discourse; think how to lay
The dead man in his grave and what thy plea
Shall be anon; I see a foe approach.
Perchance he comes with mocking of our grief,
As miscreants use.
What captain dost thou see?
Menelaus, he at whose behest we sailed.
’Tis he, not hard to recognise thus near.
Stop, sirrah, bear no hand in raising up
The corse, I charge thee; leave it where it lies.
Wherefore dost waste thy breath in these proud words?
Such is my will and the great general’s will.
On what pretence? wilt please to tell us that?
Hear then. We thought to bring from Salamis
For Greeks a friend and firm ally, but found him
On trial worse than any Phrygian foe;
Who plotted death and sallied forth by night
’Gainst the whole host, to slay us with the spear;
And had some god not intervened to foil
This enterprise, his fate had now been ours,
To perish by an ignominious death,
While he had now been living. But a god
Turned his blind malice on the flocks and herds.
Thus hath he done, and no man shall prevail
By might to lay his body in the tomb.
He shall be cast forth on the yellow sands
To feed the carrion birds that haunt the beach.
Rage not nor bluster as thou hear’st, for we,
E’en if we could not master him alive,
In any case will lord it o’er him dead,
Rule him and discipline, in thy despite,
By force—my words he ne’er would heed, alive.
Yet ’tis a mark of villainy when one
Of the common deigns not to obey his lords.
For in a State that hath no dread of law
The laws can never prosper and prevail,
Nor could an armèd force be disciplined
Lacking the guard of awe and reverence.
Nay, though a man should tower in thews and might,
A giant o’er his fellows, let him think
Some petty stroke of fate may work his ruin.
Where dread prevails and reverence withal,
Believe me, there is safety; but the State,
Where arrogance hath licence and self-will,
Though for a while she run before the gale,
Will in the end make shipwreck and be sunk.
Dread in its proper season and degree
Must be maintained; let us not fondly dream
That we can act at will to please ourselves,
Nor pay the price of pleasure by our pains.
’Tis turn and turn; now this man lorded it
In insolence; ’tis now my hour of pride.
So I forewarn thee bury him not, lest thou
In burying shouldst dig thyself a grave.
Sage precepts these, my lord, and do not thou
Thyself become a scoffer of the dead.
Friends, I shall never marvel after this
If any baseborn fellow gives offence,
When men who pride them on their lineage
By their perverted utterance thus offend.
Repeat thy tale: thou claimest to have brought
My brother hither as a Greek ally,
Secured by thee forsooth. Sailed he not forth
As his own master, of his own free will?
Who made thee lord of him? What right hast thou
To rule the clansmen whom he brought from home?
Thou cam’st as Sparta’s king, no lord of ours.
Thou hast no more prerogative or right
To govern him than he to govern thee;
Thou sailedst under orders, not as chief,
And captain unto Ajax ne’er couldst be.
Go, lord it o’er thy henchmen, chasten them
With lordly pride; but this man, whether thou,
Aye, or thy brother-general forbid,
I with due rites and offices will bury
Despite thy threatenings. ’Twas not to bring back
Thy wife that Ajax joined in the campaign,
Like thy serf drudges, but to keep the oath
Whereto he had bound himself, no whit for thee;
Of underlings like thee he took no heed.
Go then and bring more heralds back with thee
And the commander; for thy noisy rant,
Whilst thou art what thou art, I care no straw.
This speech again mislikes me in the midst
Of woes; hard words, how just soever, wound.
Methinks this archer6 hath a captain’s pride.
Aye, as the master of no vulgar art.
How wouldst thou strut, promoted to a shield!
Without a shield I were a match for thee
In panoply.
How valorous with thy tongue!
He can be bold who hath his quarrel just.
Justice quotha, to exalt my murderer?
Murdered, and yet thou livest! that is strange!
Heaven saved me; in intention I was slain.
If the gods saved thee, sin not ’gainst the gods.
I! could I e’er abuse the laws of Heaven?
Yea, if thou com’st to stop the burial.
Of mine own foes; to bury them were sin.
Was Ajax e’en thine enemy in the field?
He loathed me, as I him, thou knowest well.
Aye, thou hadst robbed him by suborning votes.
’Twas by the judges he was cast, not me.
A fair face thou canst put on foulest frauds.
Someone I know will suffer for that word.
He who provoked is like to suffer more.
One word more; he shall not be burièd.
One word in answer; buried he shall be.
Once did I see a braggart, bold of tongue,
Who had pressed his crew to sail in time of storm,
But when the storm was on him he was mum—
Lay like a dead log muffled in his cloak,
And let the sailors trample him at will.
E’en so with thee and thy unbridled tongue.
Perchance a mighty hurricane may rise,
Sprung from a cloud no bigger than a hand,
Swoop down on thee and quench thy blustering.
Once too I knew a fool, a silly fool,
Who triumphed at his neighbour’s woes and mocked;
And then it chanced that one, a man like me
In looks and character, addressed him thus:
Man, do not evil to the dead, for if
Thou doest evil, thou nilt surely rue it.
So to his face he chid that silly fool.
I see that wight before me, and methinks
“Tis none but thou. Can’st read my riddle plain?
I go, for ’twould disgrace me, were it known
That I, with power to
