Page:Sophocles (Collins).djvu/122

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110
SOPHOCLES.

But Tecmessa still lingers—finding it, perhaps, impossible to tear herself from the presence of one whom she loves with all a woman's devoted affection—and she stays near the tent-door, clasping the hands of Eurysaces.[1] Ajax does not look to see whether she has obeyed him; but, relapsing into profound melancholy, covers his face in his hands. And so the three remain, motionless as statues; while the Chorus, in their song, contrast the peaceful happiness of the island-home which they have left with the weary travail of the siege, and the gloom and dishonour of their king. "Blessed art thou," their chant begins, "glorious Salamis, where thou liest by the beating waves, famous in the sight of all for ever;"—and they deplore the fate which has befallen so noble a warrior—doomed to perish in his prime, though sprung from a race in which "prince after prince had lived out his span, and gone to the grave full of years and honours."[2]

"Oh! when the pride of Græcia's noblest race
Wanders, as now, in darkness and disgrace,
When reason's day
Sets rayless—joyless—quenched in cold decay,
Better to die, and sleep
The never-waking sleep, than linger on,
And dare to live, when the soul's life is gone:
But thou shalt weep,
Thou wretched father, for thy dearest son,
Thy best beloved, by inward furies torn,
The deepest, bitterest curse, thine ancient house hath borne!"[3]

  1. Bishop Thirlwall's view of the scene is here followed.
  2. Jebb's Ajax, p. 88.
  3. Praed's Poems, ii. 349.