Horace, Satyres (ca. 35-30 BCE), trans. Thomas Drant (London: Thomas Marshe, 1566):

  Tucer.  Syr kynge, why maye not Aiax be enterred in his graue?
  Agamemnon.  I am a kinge, my lusts a lawe, your answer (lo) you haue.
  Tucer.  Moste puissaunt prince, my suite is iuste, if anie can say nay,
Without all stop, or ieoperdie, his sentence let him say.
God graunte your noble maiestie, to see your natyue soyle.
Léege prynce, take pause a space, and then, my pore demaunde assoyle.
  Agam.  Demaunde at once? Tew: shall duke Aiax the nexte to fearse Achill:
Who famouse was, by sauing greakes, vntombed tarrye still?
That Priame, and his folke may ioy, to see him lacke his graue:
By whom their Troiane younkers slayne, no countrie toumbe coulde haue?
  Agamem.  A thousande shéepe he slewe in rage, the famouse Vlixes,
Menelaus and me with sworde he thoughte he did disease.
  Tucer.  When thou in Auled for a cowe, didste slay thy louing childe,
And salte her heade ou alter stone, waste thou then mad or mylde?
In what degrée did Aiax rage? what did he? slay the shéepe.
From lemans bayne, and daughters baine his blade he coulde ykéepe.
Perchaunce he curste and bande at large the, and thy brother to:
With me, nor Vlixes his foe, he neuer had to doe.
  Agamemnon,  The lingering shippes, that they myght sayle from hauen where they stoode,
Of purpose good, I pacifyed the wrothefull goddes with blood.
  Tucer.  With blood of thyne, thou mad kyng, thou, with mine, but I not mad.
  Agam.  Who doth confounde things good and ill (as you) is euen as bad,
  Stoicke.  To folow shewes, and vttershapes, to gesse but at the good
Is follie leude as is the déede, that coms of angrie moode.
Aiax he slew the sillie lambes, therfore, distraughte of witte:
And thou for tytles, and renoume, fell murther doste commit.
(Hast thou thy wittes?) or arte thou good, all swelled vp with pryde? (2.3)

Ovid, Metamorphoses (8), trans. Arthur Golding (London: William Seres, 1567):

Alone the sonnes of Telamon and LaÎrt did assay
Which of them twoo of that great pryse should beare the bell away.
The owner of the seuenfold shÈeld, too theis did Aiax ryse.
And (as he could not brydle wrath) he cast his frowning eyes
Uppon the shore and on the fleete that there at Anchor lyes
And throwing vp his handes, O God and must wee plead ({quod} hÈe)
Our case before our shippes? and must Vlysses stand with mee?
But like a wretch he ran his way when Hector came with fyre,
Which I defending from theis shippes did force him too retyre.
It easyer is therefore with woordes in print too maynteine stryfe,
Than for too fyght it out with fists. But neyther I am ryfe
In woordes, nor hÈe in dÈedes. For looke how farre I him excell
In battell and in feates of armes: so farre beares hÈe the bell
From mÈe in talking. (13)

Thus farre did stretch
The woordes of Aiax. At the ende whereof there did ensew
A muttring of the souldiers, till Laertis sonne the prew
Stood vp.... (13)

Alonly let it not auayle sir Aiax heere, that hee
Is such a dolt and grossehead, as he shewes himself too bee. (13)

He drawes his swoord and sayes:
Well: this is myne yit. Untoo this no clayme Vlysses layes.
This must I vse ageinst myself: this blade that heretoofore
Hath bathed bÈene in Troiane blood, must now his mayster gore
That none may Aiax ouercome saue Aiax. With that woord.
Intoo his brest (not wounded erst) he thrust his deathfull swoord.
His hand too pull it out ageine vnable was. The blood
Did spout it out. Anon the ground bestayned where he stood,
Did breede the pretye purple flowre vppon a clowre of grÈene,
Which of the wound of Hyacinth had erst engendred beene.
The selfsame letters eeke that for the chyld were written than,
Were now againe amid the flowre new written for the man.
The former tyme complaynt, the last a name did represent. (13)