For now he thought to set the ships aflame, And slaughter all the Argives, now, to hew With sudden onslaught of his terrible sword Guileful Odysseus limb from limb. Such things He purposed -- nay, had soon accomplished all, Had Pallas not with madness smitten him;
For over Odysseus, strong to endure, her heart Yearned, as she called to mind the sacrifices Offered to her of him continually.
Therefore she turned aside from Argive men The might of Aias. As a terrible storm, Whose wings are laden with dread hurricane-blasts, Cometh with portents of heart-numbing fear To shipmen, when the Pleiads, fleeing adread From glorious Orion, plunge beneath The stream of tireless Ocean, when the air Is turmoil, and the sea is mad with storm;
So rushed he, whithersoe'er his feet might bear.
This way and that he ran, like some fierce beast Which darteth down a rock-walled glen's ravines With foaming jaws, and murderous intent Against the hounds and huntsmen, who have torn Out of the cave her cubs, and slain: she runs This way and that, and roars, if mid the brakes Haply she yet may see the dear ones lost;
Whom if a man meet in that maddened mood, Straightway his darkest of all days hath dawned;
So ruthless-raving rushed he; blackly boiled His heart, as caldron on the Fire-god's hearth Maddens with ceaseless hissing o'er the flames From blazing billets coiling round its sides, At bidding of the toiler eager-souled To singe the bristles of a huge-fed boar;
So was his great heart boiling in his breast.
Like a wild sea he raved, like tempest-blast, Like the winged might of tireless flame amidst The mountains maddened by a mighty wind, When the wide-blazing forest crumbles down In fervent heat. So Aias, his fierce heart With agony stabbed, in maddened misery raved.
Foam frothed about his lips; a beast-like roar Howled from his throat. About his shoulders clashed His armour. They which saw him trembled, all Cowed by the fearful shout of that one man.
From Ocean then uprose Dawn golden-reined:
Like a soft wind upfloated Sleep to heaven, And there met Hera, even then returned To Olympus back from Tethys, unto whom But yester-morn she went. She clasped him round, And kissed him, who had been her marriage-kin Since at her prayer on Ida's erest he had lulled To sleep Cronion, when his anger burned Against the Argives. Straightway Hera passed To Zeus's mansion, and Sleep swiftly flew To Pasithea's couch. From slumber woke All nations of the earth. But Aias, like Orion the invincible, prowled on, Still bearing murderous madness in his heart.
He rushed upon the sheep, like lion fierce Whose savage heart is stung with hunger-pangs.
Here, there, he smote them, laid them dead in dust Thick as the leaves which the strong North-wind's might Strews, when the waning year to winter turns;
So on the sheep in fury Aias fell, Deeming he dealt to Danaans evil doom.
Then to his brother Menelaus came, And spake, but not in hearing of the rest:
"This day shall surely be a ruinous day For all, since Aias thus is sense-distraught.
It may be he will set the ships aflame, And slay us all amidst our tents, in wrath For those lost arms. Would God that Thetis ne'er Had set them for the prize of rivalry!
Would God Laertes' son had not presumed In folly of soul to strive with a better man!
Fools were we all; and some malignant God Beguiled us; for the one great war-defence Left us, since Aeacus' son in battle fell, Was Aias' mighty strength. And now the Gods Will to our loss destroy him, bringing bane On thee and me, that all we may fill up The cup of doom, and pass to nothingness."
He spake; replied Agamemnon, lord of spears:
"Now nay, Menelaus, though thine heart he wrung, Be thou not wroth with the resourceful king Of Cephallenian folk, but with the Gods Who plot our ruin. Blame not him, who oft Hath been our blessing and our enemies' curse."
So heavy-hearted spake the Danaan kings.
But by the streams of Xanthus far away 'Neath tamarisks shepherds cowered to hide from death, As when from a swift eagle cower hares 'Neath tangled copses, when with sharp fierce scream This way and that with wings wide-shadowing He wheeleth very nigh; so they here, there, Quailed from the presence of that furious man.
At last above a slaughtered ram he stood, And with a deadly laugh he cried to it:
"Lie there in dust; be meat for dogs and kites!
Achilles' glorious arms have saved not thee, For which thy folly strove with a better man!
Lie there, thou cur! No wife shall fall on thee, And clasp, and wail thee and her fatherless childs, Nor shalt thou greet thy parents' longing eyes, The staff of their old age! Far from thy land Thy carrion dogs and vultures shall devour!"
So cried he, thinking that amidst the slain Odysseus lay blood-boltered at his feet.
But in that moment from his mind and eyes Athena tore away the nightmare-fiend Of Madness havoc-breathing, and it passed Thence swiftly to the rock-walled river Styx Where dwell the winged Erinnyes, they which still Visit with torments overweening men.
Then Aias saw those sheep upon the earth Gasping in death; and sore amazed he stood, For he divined that by the Blessed Ones His senses had been cheated. All his limbs Failed under him; his soul was anguished-thrilled:
He could not in his horror take one step Forward nor backward. Like some towering rock Fast-rooted mid the mountains, there he stood.
But when the wild rout of his thoughts had rallied, He groaned in misery, and in anguish wailed:
"Ah me! why do the Gods abhor me so?
They have wrecked my mind, have with fell madness filled, Making me slaughter all these innocent sheep!
Would God that on Odysseus' pestilent heart Mine hands had so avenged me! Miscreant, he Brought on me a fell curse! O may his soul Suffer all torments that the Avenging Fiends Devise for villains! On all other Greeks May they bring murderous battle, woeful griefs, And chiefly on Agamemnon, Atreus' son!
Not scatheless to the home may he return So long desired! But why should I consort, I, a brave man, with the abominable?
