and has been found a heavy sorrow for his friends. His hands’ former achievements, deeds
 of prowess supreme, have fallen without friends, without friends, before the unfriendly, miserable Atreidae. Chorus Surely his mother, companion of antiquity and grey with age, when she hears that he has been afflicted with the ruin of his mind will
 raise a loud cry of wailing. It is not the nightingale’s piteous lament that she, unhappy, will sing. Rather in shrill-toned odes the dirge will rise, while the hollow sound of beating hands and the shredding of grey hair will fall upon her breast. Chorus Yes, better hid in Hades is the man plagued by foolishness, who by the lineage from where he springs is noblest of the enduring Achaeans, yet now is constant no more in his inbred temperament, but wanders outside himself. O Telamon, unhappy father, how heavy a curse upon your son awaits your hearing, a curse which never yet has any life-portion of the heirs of Aeacus nourished but his! Enter Ajax, sword in hand, followed by Tecmessa. Ajax All things the long and countless years first draw from darkness, and then bury from light; and there is nothing which man should not expect: the dread power of oath is conquered, as is unyielding will. For even I, who used to be so tremendously strong—yes, like tempered iron—felt my
 tongue’s sharp edge emasculated by this woman’s words, and I feel the pity
 of leaving her a widow and the boy an orphan among my enemies. But I will go to the bathing-place and the meadows by the shore so that by purging my defilements I may escape the heavy anger of the goddess. Then I will find some isolated spot, and bury this sword of mine, most hateful weapon, digging down in the earth where none can see. Let Night and Hades keep it underground! For ever since I took into my hand this gift
 from Hector, my greatest enemy, I have gotten no good from the Greeks. Yes,
 men’s proverb is true: the gifts of enemies are no gifts and bring no good.
 And so hereafter I shall, first, know how to yield to the gods, and, second, learn to revere the Atreidae. They are rulers, so we must submit. How could it be otherwise? Things of awe and might submit to authority. So it is that winter with its snow-covered paths gives place to
 fruitful summer; night’s dark orbit makes room for day with her white horses
 to kindle her radiance; the blast of dreadful winds allows the groaning sea to rest; and among them all, almighty Sleep releases the fettered sleeper, and does not hold him in a perpetual grasp.
 And we men—must we not learn self-restraint? I, at least, will learn it, since I am newly aware that an enemy is to be hated only as far as suits one who will in turn become a friend. Similarly to a friend I would wish to give only so much help and service as suits him who will not forever remain friendly. For the masses regard the haven of comradeship as treacherous.
 But concerning these things it will be well. You, wife, go inside and pray to the gods that the desires of my heart be completed to the very end. Exit Tecmessa. 
 
 You also, my comrades, honor my wishes just as she does, and command Teucer, when he comes, to take care of us, and to be kind to you at the same time. I am going to where my journey inexorably leads. But you do as I say, and before long, perhaps, though I now suffer, you will hear that I have found rest and peace. Exit Ajax. Chorus I shiver with rapture; I soar on the wings of sudden joy! O Pan, O Pan, appear to us, sea-rover, from the stony ridge of snow-beaten Cyllene. King, dancemaker for the gods, come, so that joining with us you may set on the Nysian and the Cnosian steps, your self-taught dances. Now I want to dance. And may Apollo, lord of Delos , step over the Icarian sea and join me in his divine form, in eternal benevolence! Chorus Ares has dispelled the cloud of fierce trouble from our eyes. Joy, joy! Now, Zeus, now can the white radiance of prosperous days approach our swift, sea-speeding ships, since Ajax forgets his pain anew, and has instead fully performed all prescribed sacrifices to the gods with worship and strict observance.
 The strong years make all things fade. And so I would not say that anything was beyond belief, when beyond our hopes, Ajax has been converted from his fury and mighty struggles against the Atreidae. Enter the Messenger, from the Greek camp. Messenger Friends, my first news is this: Teucer has just now returned from the Mysian heights. He has come to the generals’
 quarters mid-camp, and is being shouted at by all the Greeks at once.
 Recognizing him from a distance as he approached, they gathered around
 him and then pelted him with jeers from every side—no one held back—calling him the brother of the maniac, of the plotter against the army, and saying that he would not be able to avoid entirely losing flesh and life before their flying stones. In this way they had come to the point where swords had been plucked from sheaths and were drawn in their hands. But then the conflict, when it had nearly run its full course, was halted by the conciliatory words of the elders. But where shall I find Ajax, to tell him this? To our lord I must tell all. Chorus He is not inside, but is recently departed. He has yoked a new purpose to his new mood.