Minerva
I purposely deceived
His sight, and saved him from the guilty joy,
Turning his rage against the mingled flocks,
Your gathered spoil ; on these with violence
He rushed, and slaughtered many ; now he thought
That he had slain th' Atridse, now believed
Some other chiefs had perished by his hand,
I saw his madness and still urged him on,
That he might fall into the snare I laid :
Tired with his slaughter now he binds in chains
The living victim, drives the captive herd
Home to his tent, nor doubts but they are men :
There beats with many a stripe the helpless foe,
But I will show thee this most glaring frenzy,
55
That to the Grecians what thy eyes behold
55
Thou mayst report ; be confident, nor fear
55
His utmost malice ; I shall turn his sight
Askant from thee. Ajax, what ho ! come forth.
Thou who dost bind in chains thy captive foes !
Ajax. Sophocles. Thomas Francklin (Translator). London. 1758–1759.