In vetches, beech-nuts, lupines and the rest,
You, that in public you may strut, or stand
All bronze, when stripped of money, stripped of land;
You, that Agrippa's plaudits you may win,
A sneaking fox in a brave lion's skin?'

"What moves you, Agamemnon, thus to fling
Great Ajax to the dogs? 'I am a king.'
And I a subject: therefore I forbear
More questions. 'Right; for what I will is fair:
Yet, if there be who fancy me unjust,
I give my conduct up to be discussed.'
Mightiest of mighty kings, may proud success
And safe return your conquering army bless!
May I ask questions then, and shortly speak
When you have answered? 'Take the leave you seek.'
Then why should Ajax, though so oft renowned
For patriot service, rot above the ground,
Your bravest next Achilles, just that Troy
And envious Priam may the scene enjoy,
Beholding him, through whom their children came
To feed the dogs, himself cast out to shame?
'A flock the madman slew, and cried that he
Had killed my brother, Ithacus, and me.'
Well, when you offered in a heifer's stead
Your child, and strewed salt meal upon her head,
Then were you sane, I ask you? 'Why not sane?'
Why, what did Ajax when the flock was slain?
He did no violence to his wife or child:
He cursed the Atridae, true; his words were wild;