Still where it ought, say I, nor let men think
To do their pleasure and not bide the pain.
That wheel comes surely round. Once Aias flamed
With insolent fierceness. Now I mount in pride,
And loudly bid thee bury him not, lest burying
Thy brother thou be burrowing thine own grave.
Ch. Menelaüs, make not thy philosophy
A platform whence to insult the valiant dead.
Teu. I nevermore will marvel, sirs, when one
Of humblest parentage is prone to sin,
Since those reputed men of noble strain
Stoop to such phrase of prating frowardness.
Come, tell it o’er again,—said you ye brought
My brother bound to aid you with his power?
Sailed he not forth of his own sovereign will?
Where is thy voucher of command o’er him?
Where of thy right o’er those that followed him?
Sparta, not we, shall buckle to thy sway.
’Twas written nowhere in the bond of rule
That thou shouldst check him rather than he thee.
Thou sailedst under orders, not in charge
Of all, much less of Aias. Then pursue
Thy limited direction, and chastise,
In haughty phrase, the men who fear thy nod.
But I will bury Aias, whether thou
Or the other general give consent or no.
’Tis not for me to tremble at your word.
Not to reclaim thy wife, like those poor souls
Thou fill’st with labour, issued this man forth,
But caring for his oath, and not for thee,
Or any other nobody. Then come
With heralds all arow, and bring the man
Called king of men with thee! For thy sole noise
I budge not, wert thou twenty times thy name.
Ch. The sufferer should not bear a bitter tongue.
Hard words, how just soe’er, will leave their sting.
Men. Our bowman carries no small pride, I see.
Teu. No mere mechanic’s menial craft is mine.
Men. How wouldst thou vaunt it hadst thou but a shield!
