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 Mates of the ship of Ajax, offspring of the race that springs from the Erechtheids, the soil's sons, cries of grief are the portion of us who care from afar for the house of Telamon.  Ajax, our terrible, mighty lord of untamed power, now lies plagued by a turbid storm of disease.
And what is the heavy change from the fortune of yesterday which this night has produced?  Daughter of Teleutas the Phrygian, speak, since for you his spear-won mate bold Ajax maintains his love, so that with some knowledge you could suggest an explanation.
Oh, how am I to tell a tale too terrible for words?  Grave as death is the suffering which you will hear. By madness our glorious Ajax was seized in the night, and he has been subjected to utter disgrace. All this you may see inside his dwelling—butchered victims bathed in blood,  sacrifices of no hand but his.
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