Horror is past.  Our eyes have rest from pain. 2
        O Lord of Heaven! [They dance
        Now blithesome day again
Purely may smile on our swift-sailing fleet,
        Since, all his woe forgot,
        Aias now faileth not
Aught that of prayer and Heaven-worship is meet. 
Time bringeth mighty aid—­nought but in time doth fade: 
Nothing shall move me as strange to my thought. 
        Aias our lord hath now
        Cleared his wrath-burdened brow
          Long our despair,
        Ceased from his angry feud
        And with mild heart renewed
Peace and goodwill to the high-sceptred pair.

Enter Messenger.

MESSENGER.  Friends, my first news is Teucer’s presence here,
Fresh from the Mysian heights; who, as he came
Right toward the generals’ quarter, was assailed
With outcry from the Argives in a throng: 
For when they knew his motion from afar
They swarmed around him, and with shouts of blame
From each side one and all assaulted him
As brother to the man who had gone mad
And plotted ’gainst the host,—­threatening aloud,
Spite of his strength, he should be stoned, and die. 
—­So far strife ran, that swords unscabbarded
Crossed blades, till as it mounted to the height
Age interposed with counsel, and it fell. 
  But where is Aias to receive my word? 
Tidings are best told to the rightful ear.

CH.  Not in the hut, but just gone forth, preparing
New plans to suit his newly altered mind.

MESS.  Alas! 
Too tardy then was he who sped me hither;
Or I have proved too slow a messenger.

CH.  What point is lacking for thine errand’s speed?

MESS.  Teucer was resolute the man should bide
Close held within-doors till himself should come.

CH.  Why, sure his going took the happiest turn
And wisest, to propitiate Heaven’s high wrath.

MESS.  The height of folly lives in such discourse,
If Calchas have the wisdom of a seer.

CH.  What knowest thou of our state?  What saith he?  Tell.

MESS.  I can tell only what I heard and saw. 
Whilst all the chieftains and the Atridae twain
Were seated in a ring, Calchas alone
Rose up and left them, and in Teucer’s palm
Laid his right hand full friendly; then out-spake
With strict injunction by all means i’ the world
To keep beneath yon covert this one day
Your hero, and not suffer him to rove,
If he would see him any more alive. 
For through this present light—­and ne’er again—–­
Holy Athena, so he said, will drive him
Before her anger.  Such calamitous woe
Strikes down the unprofitable growth that mounts
Beyond his measure and provokes the sky. 
‘Thus ever,’ said the prophet, ’must he fall
Who in man’s mould hath thoughts beyond a man. 
And Aias, ere he left his father’s door,