Aeschylus The Persians
Author: Unknown
Date: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Aeschylus : The PersiansAeschylus

The Persians

translated by Robert Potter

CHARACTERS IN THE PLAY

ATOSSA, widow of Darius and mother of XERXES

MESSENGER

GHOST OF DARIUS

XERXES

CHORUS OF PERSIAN ELDERS, who compose the Persian Council of State (SCENE:Before the Council-Hall of the Persian Kings at Susa. The tomb of Darius the Great is visible. The time is 480 B.C., shortly after the battle of Salamis.

The play opens with the CHORUS OF PERSIAN ELDERS singing its first choral lyric.)

CHORUS

While oer the fields of Greece the embattled troops Of Persia march with delegated sway,

We oer their rich and gold-abounding seats Hold faithful our firm guard; to this high charge Xerxes, our royal lord, the imperial son Of great Darius, chose our honourd age.

But for the kings return, and his armd host Blazing with gold, my soul presaging ill Swells in my tortured breast: for all her force Hath Asia sent, and for her youth I sigh.

Nor messenger arrives, nor horseman spurs With tidings to this seat of Persias kings.

The gates of Susa and Ecbatana

Pourd forth their martial trains; and Cissia sees Her ancient towers forsaken, while her youth, Some on the bounding steed, the tall bark some Ascending, some with painful march on foot, Haste on, to arrange the deepning files of war.

Amistres, Artaphernes, and the might

Of great Astaspes, Megabazes bold,

Chieftains of Persia, kings, that, to the power Of the great king obedient, march with these Leading their martial thousands; their proud steeds Prance under them; steel bows and shafts their arms, Dreadful to see, and terrible in fight, Deliberate valour breathing in their souls.

Artembares, that in his fiery horse

Delights; Masistress; and Imaeus bold, Bending with manly strength his stubborn bow; Pharandaces, and Sosthanes, that drives With military pomp his rapid steeds.

Others the vast prolific Nile hath sent; Pegastagon, that from Aegyptus draws

His high birth; Susiscanes; and the chief That reigns oer sacred Memphis, great Arsames; And Ariomardus, that oer ancient Thebes Bears the supreme dominion; and with these, Drawn from their watery marshes, numbers traind To the stout oar. Next these the Lycian troops, Soft sons of luxury; and those that dwell Amid the inland forests, from the sea Far distant; these Metragathes commands, And virtuous Arceus, royal chiefs, that shine In burnishd gold, and many a whirling car Drawn by six generous steeds from Sardis lead, A glorious and a dreadful spectacle.

And from the foot of Tmolus, sacred mount, Eager to bind on Greece the servile yoke, Mardon and Tharybis the massy spear

Grasp with unwearied vigour; the light lance The Mysians shake. A mingled multitude Swept from her wide dominions skilld to draw The unerring bow, in ships Euphrates sends From golden Babylon. With falchions armd From all the extent of Asia move the hosts Obedient to their monarchs stern command.

Thus marchd the flower of Persia, whose loved youth The world of Asia nourishd, and with sighs Laments their absence; many an anxious look Their wives, their parents send, count the slow days, And tremble at the long-protracted time.

strophe 1

Already oer the adverse strand

In arms the monarchs martial squadrons spread; The threatning ruin shakes the land, And each tall city bows its towerd head.

Bark bound to bark, their wondrous way They bridge across the indignant sea; The narrow Hellesponts vexd waves disdain, His proud neck taught to wear the chain.

Now has the peopled Asias warlike lord, By land, by sea, with foot, with horse, Resistless in his rapid course,

Oer all their realms his warring thousands pourd; Now his intrepid chiefs surveys,

And glittring like a god his radiant state displays.

antistrophe 1

Fierce as the dragon scaled in gold Through the deep files he darts his glowing eye; And pleased their order to behold, His gorgeous standard blazing to the sky, Rolls onward his Assyrian car,

Directs the thunder of the war,

Bids the wingd arrows iron storm advance Against the slow and cumbrous lance.

What shall withstand the torrent of his sway When dreadful oer the yielding shores The impetuous tide of battle roars, And sweeps the weak opposing mounds away?

So Persia, with resistless might, Rolls her unnumberd hosts of heroes to the fight.

strophe 2

For when misfortunes fraudful hand Prepares to pour the vengeance of the sky, What mortal shall her force withstand?

What rapid speed the impending fury fly?

Gentle at first with flattring smiles She spreads her soft enchanting wiles, So to her toils allures her destined prey, Whence man neer breaks unhurt away.

For thus from ancient times the Fates ordain That Persias sons should greatly dare, Unequalld in the works of war;

Shake with their thundring steeds the ensanguined plain, Dreadful the hostile walls surround, And lay their rampired towers in ruins on the ground.

antistrophe 2

Taught to behold with fearless eyes The whitening billows foam beneath the gale, They bid the naval forests rise,

Mount the slight bark, unfurl the flying sail, And oer the angry ocean bear

To distant realms the storm of war.

For this with many a sad and gloomy thought My tortured breast is fraught:

Ah me! for Persias absent sons I sigh; For while in foreign fields they fight, Our towns exposed to wild affright An easy prey to the invader lie:

Where, mighty Susa, where thy powers, To wield the warriors arms, and guard thy regal towers?

epode Crushd beneath the assailing foe Her golden head must Cissia bend; While her pale virgins, frantic with despair, Through all her streets awake the voice of wo; And flying with their bosoms bare, Their purfled stoles in anguish rend: For all her youth in martial pride, Like bees that, clustring round their king, Their dark imbodied squadrons bring, Attend their sceptred monarchs side, And stretch across the watery way From shore to shore their long array.

The Persian dames, with many a tender fear, In griefs sad vigils keep the midnight hour; Shed on the widowd couch the streaming tear, And the long absence of their loves deplore.

Each lonely matron feels her pensive breast Throb with desire, with aching fondness glow, Since in bright arms her daring warrior dressd Left her to languish in her love-lorn wo.

Now, ye grave Persians, that your honourd seats Hold in this ancient house, with prudent care And deep deliberation, so the state

Requires, consult we, pondring the event Of this great war, which our imperial lord, The mighty Xerxes from Darius sprung, The stream of whose rich blood flows in our veins, Leads against Greece; whether his arrowy shower Shot from the strong-braced bow, or the huge spear High brandishd, in the deathful field prevails.

But see, the monarchs mother: like the gods Her lustre blazes on our eyes: my queen, Prostrate I fall before her: all advance With reverence, and in duteous phrase address her, (ATOSSA enters with her retinue. The Elders do their obeisance to her.) LEADER OF THE CHORUS

Hail, queen, of Persias high-zoned dames supreme, Age-honourd mother of the potent Xerxes, Imperial consort of Darius, hail!

The wife, the mother of the Persians god, If yet our former glories fade not from us.

ATOSSA

And therefore am I come, leaving my house That shines with gorgeous ornaments and gold, Where in past days Darius held with me His royal residence. With anxious care My heart is tortured: I will tell you, friends, My thoughts, not otherwise devoid of fear, Lest mighty wealth with haughty foot oerturn And trample in the dust that happiness, Which, not unblessd by Heaven, Darius raised.

For this with double force unquiet thoughts Past utterance fill my soul; that neither wealth With all its golden stores, where men are wanting, Claims reverence; nor the light, that beams from power, Shines on the man whom wealth disdains to grace.

The golden stores of wealth indeed are ours; But for the light (such in the house I deem The presence of its lord) there I have fears.

Advise me then, you whose experienced age Supports the state of Persia: prudence guides Your councils, always kind and faithful to me.

LEADER

Speak, royal lady, what thy will, assured We want no second bidding, where our power In word or deed waits on our zeal: our hearts In this with honest duty shall obey thee.

ATOSSA

Oft, since my son hath marchd his mighty host Against the lonians, warring to subdue Their country, have my slumbers been disturbd With dreams of dread portent; but most last night, With marks of plainest proof. Ill tell thee then: Alethought two women stood before my eyes Gorgeously vested, one in Persian robes Adornd, the other in the Doric garb.

With more than mortal majesty they moved, Of peerless beauty; sisters too they seemd, Though distant each from each they chanced to dwell, In Greece the one, on the barbaric coast The other. Twixt them soon dissension rose: My son then hasted to compose their strife, Soothed them to fair accord, beneath his car Yokes them, and reins their harnessd necks. The one, Exulting in her rich array, with pride Arching her stately neck, obeyd the reins; The other with indignant fury spurnd The car, and dashd it piecemeal, rent the reins, And tore the yoke asunder; down my son Fell from the seat, and instant at his side His father stands, Darius, at his fall Impressd with pity: him when Xerxes saw, Glowing with grief and shame he rends his robes.

This was the dreadful vision of the night.

When I arose, in the sweet-flowing stream I bathed my hands, and on the incensed altars Presenting my oblations to the gods

To avert these ills, an eagle I behold Fly to the altar of the sun; aghast

I stood, my friends, and speechless; when a hawk With eager speed runs thither, furious cuffs The eagle with his wings, and with his talons Unplumes his head; meantime the imperial bird Cowers to the blows defenceless. Dreadful this To me that saw it, and to you that hear.

My son, let conquest crown his arms, would shine With dazzling glory; but should Fortune frown, The state indeed presumes not to arraign His sovereignty; yet how, his honour lost, How shall he sway the sceptre of this land?

LEADER

We would not, royal lady, sink thy soul With fear in the excess, nor raise it high With confidence. Go then, address the gods; If thou hast seen aught ill, entreat their power To avert that ill, and perfect evry good To thee, thy sons, the state, and all thy friends.

Then to the earth, and to the mighty dead Behooves thee pour libations; gently cal Him that was once thy husband, whom thou sawst In visions of the night; entreat his shade From the deep realms beneath to send to light Triumph to thee and to thy son; whateer Bears other import, to inwrap, to hide it Close in the covering earths profoundest gloom.

This, in the presage of my thoughts that flow Benevolent to thee, have I proposed;

And all, we trust, shall be successful to thee.

ATOSSA

Thy friendly judgment first hath placed these dreams In a fair light, confirming the event Benevolent to my son and to my house.

May all the good be ratified! These rites Shall, at thy bidding, to the powers of heaven, And to the manes of our friends, be paid In order meet, when I return; meanwhile Indulge me, friends, who wish to be informd Where, in what clime, the towers of Athens rise.

LEADER

Far in the west, where sets the imperial sun.

ATOSSA

Yet my son willd the conquest of this town.

LEADER

May Greece through all her states bend to his power!

ATOSSA

Send they embattled numbers to the field?

LEADER

A force that to the Medes hath wrought much wo.

ATOSSA

Have they sufficient treasures in their houses?

LEADER

Their rich earth yields a copious fount of silver.

ATOSSA

From the strong bow wing they the barbed shaft?

LEADER

They grasp the stout spear, and the massy shield.

ATOSSA

What monarch reigns, whose power commands their ranks?

LEADER

Slaves to no lord, they own no kingly power.

ATOSSA

How can they then resist the invading foe?

LEADER

As to spread havoc through the numerous host, That round Darius formd their glittring files.

ATOSSA

Thy words strike deep, and wound the parents breast Whose sons are marchd to such a dangerous field.

LEADER

But, if I judge aright, thou soon shalt hear Each circumstance; for this way, mark him, speeds A Persian messenger; he bears, be sure, Tidings of high import, or good or ill.

(A MESSENGER enters.)

MESSENGER

Wo to the towns through Asias peopled realms!

Wo to the land of Persia, once the port Of boundless wealth, how is thy glorious state Vanishd at once, and all thy spreading honours Falln, lost! Ah me! unhappy is his task That bears unhappy tidings: but constraint Compels me to relate this tale of wo.

Persians, the whole barbaric host is falln.

CHORUS (chanting)

O horror, horror! What a baleful train Of recent ills! Ah, Persians, as he speaks Of ruin, let your tears stream to the earth.

MESSENGER

It is evn so, all ruin; and myself,

Beyond all hope returning, view this light.

CHORUS (chanting)

How tedious and oppressive is the weight Of age, reserved to hear these hopeless ills!

MESSENGER

I speak not from report; but these mine eyes Beheld the ruin which my tongue would utter.

CHORUS (chanting)

Wo, wo is me! Then has the iron storm, That darkend from the realms of Asia, pourd In vain its arrowy shower on sacred Greece.

MESSENGER

In heaps the unhappy dead lie on the strand Of Salamis, and all the neighbouring shores.

CHORUS (chanting)

Unhappy friends, sunk, perishd in the sea; Their bodies, mid the wreck of shatterd ships, Mangled, and rolling on the encumberd waves!

MESSENGER

Naught did their bows avail, but all the troops In the first conflict of the ships were lost.

CHORUS (chanting)

Raise the funereal cry, with dismal notes Wailing the wretched Persians. Oh, how ill They plannd their measures, all their army perishd!

MESSENGER

O Salamis, how hateful is thy name!

And groans burst from me when I think of Athens.

CHORUS (chanting)

How dreadful to her foes! Call to remembrance How many Persian dames, wedded in vain, Hath Athens of their noble husbands widowd?

ATOSSA

Astonied with these ills, my voice thus long Hath wanted utterance: griefs like these exceed The power of speech or question: yet evn such, Inflicted by the gods, must mortal man Constraind by hard necessity endure.

But tell me all, without distraction tell me, All this calamity, though many a groan Burst from thy labouring heart. Who is not fallen?

What leader must we wail? What sceptred chief Dying hath left his troops without a lord?

MESSENGER

Xerxes himself lives, and beholds the light.

ATOSSA

That word beams comfort on my house, a ray That brightens through the melancholy gloom.

MESSENGER

Artembares, the potent chief that led Ten thousand horse, lies slaughtered on the rocks Of rough Sileniae. The great Dadaces, Beneath whose standard marchd a thousand horse, Pierced by a spear, fell headlong from the ship.

Tenagon, bravest of the Bactrians, lies Rolld on the wave-worn beach of Ajax isle.

Lilaeus, Arsames, Argestes, dash

With violence in death against the rocks Where nest the silver doves. Arcteus, that dwelt Near to the fountains of the Egyptian Nile, Adeues, and Pheresba, and Pharnuchus

Fell from one ship. Matallus, Chrysas chief, That led his darkning squadrons, thrice ten thousand, On jet-black steeds, with purple gore distaind The yellow of his thick and shaggy beard.

The Magian Arabus, and Artames

From Bactra, mouldring on the dreary shore Lie low. Amistris, and Amphistreus there Grasps his war-wear spear; there prostrate lies The illustrious Ariomardus; long his los Shall Sardis weep: thy Mysian Sisames, And Tharybis, that oer the burdend deep Led five times fifty vessels; Lerna gave The hero birth, and manly race adornd His pleasing form, but low in death he lies Unhappy in his fate. Syennesis,

Cilicias warlike chief, who dared to front The foremost dangers, singly to the foes A terror, there too found a glorious death.

These chieftains to my sad remembrance rise, Relating but a few of many ills.

ATOSSA

This is the height of ill, ah me! and shame To Persia, grief, and lamentation loud.

But tell me this, afresh renew thy tale: What was the number of the Grecian fleet, That in fierce conflict their bold barks should dare Rush to encounter with the Persian hosts.

MESSENGER

Know then, in numbers the barbaric fleet Was far superior: in ten squadrons, each Of thirty ships, Greece ploughd the deep; of these One held a distant station. Xerxes led A thousand ships; their number well I know; Two hundred more, and seven, that swept the seas With speediest sail: this was their full amount.

And in the engagement seemd we not secure Of victory? But unequal fortune sunk

Our scale in fight, discomfiting our host.

ATOSSA

The gods preserve the city of Minerva.

MESSENGER

The walls of Athens are impregnable,

Their firmest bulwarks her heroic sons.

ATOSSA

Which navy first advanced to the attack?

Who led to the onset, tell me; the bold Greeks, Or, glorying in his numerous fleet, my son?

MESSENGER

Our evil genius, lady, or some god

Hostile to Persia, led to evry ill.

Forth from the troops of Athens came a Greek, And thus addressd thy son, the imperial Xerxes:

“Soon as the shades of night descend, the Grecians Shall quit their station; rushing to their oars They mean to separate, and in secret flight Seek safety.” At these words, the royal chief, Little conceiving of the wiles of Greece And gods averse, to all the naval leaders Gave his high charge:“Soon as yon sun shall cease To dart his radiant beams, and darkning night Ascends the temple of the sky, arrange In three divisions your well-ordered ships, And guard each pass, each outlet of the seas: Others enring around this rocky isle

Of Salamis. Should Greece escape her fate, And work her way by secret flight, your heads Shall answer the neglect.” This harsh command He gave, exulting in his mind, nor knew What Fate designd. With martial discipline And prompt obedience, snatching a repast, Each mariner fixd well his ready oar.

Soon as the golden sun was set, and night Advanced, each traind to ply the dashing oar, Assumed his seat; in arms each warrior stood, Troop cheering troop through all the ships of war.

Each to the appointed station steers his course; And through the night his naval force each chief Fixd to secure the passes. Night advanced, But not by secret flight did Greece attempt To escape. The morn, all beauteous to behold, Drawn by white steeds bounds oer the enlightend earth; At once from evry Greek with glad acclaim Burst forth the song of war, whose lofty notes The echo of the island rocks returnd, Spreading dismay through Persias hosts, thus fallen From their high hopes; no flight this solemn strain Portended, but deliberate valour bent On daring battle; while the trumpets sound Kindled the flames of war. But when their oars The paean ended, with impetuous force Dashd the resounding surges, instant all Rushd on in view: in orderly array

The squadron on the right first led, behind Rode their whole fleet; and now distinct we heard From evry part this voice of exhortation:

“Advance, ye sons of Greece, from thraldom save Your country, save your wives, your children save, The temples of your gods, the sacred tomb Where rest your honourd ancestors; this day The common cause of all demands your valour.”

Meantime from Persias hosts the deepning shout Answerd their shout; no time for cold delay; But ship gainst ship its brazen beak impelld.

First to the charge a Grecian galley rushd; Ill the Phoenician bore the rough attack, Its sculptured prow all shatterd. Each advanced Daring an opposite. The deep array

Of Persia at the first sustaind the encounter; But their throngd numbers, in the narrow seas Confined, want room for action; and, deprived Of mutual aid, beaks clash with beaks, and each Breaks all the others oars: with skill disposed The Grecian navy circled them around

With fierce assault; and rushing from its height The inverted vessel sinks: the sea no more Wears its accustomed aspect, with foul wrecks And blood disfigured; floating carcasses Roll on the rocky shores: the poor remains Of the barbaric armament to flight

Ply every oar inglorious: onward rush The Greeks amid the ruins of the fleet, As through a shoal of fish caught in the net, Spreading destruction: the wide ocean oer Wailings are heard, and loud laments, till night With darkness on her brow brought grateful truce.

Should I recount each circumstance of wo, Ten times on my unfinished tale the sun Would set; for be assured that not one day Could close the ruin of so vast a host.

ATOSSA

Ah, what a boundless sea of wo hath burst On Persia, and the whole barbaric race!

MESSENGER

These are not half, not half our ills; on these Came an assemblage of calamities,

That sunk us with a double weight of wo.

ATOSSA

What fortune can be more unfriendly to us Than this? Say on, what dread calamity Sunk Persias host with greater weight of wo.

MESSENGER

Whoeer of Persias warriors glowd in prime Of vigrous youth, or felt their generous souls Expand with courage, or for noble birth Shone with distinguishd lustre, or excelld In firm and duteous loyalty, all these Are falln, ignobly, miserably falln.

ATOSSA

Alas, their ruthless fate, unhappy friends!

But in what manner, tell me, did they perish?

MESSENGER

Full against Salamis an isle arises,

Of small circumference, to the anchord bark Unfaithful; on the promontorys brow, That overlooks the sea, Pan loves to lead The dance: to this the monarch sends these chiefs, That when the Grecians from their shatterd ships Should here seek shelter, these might hew them down An easy conquest, and secure the strand To their sea-wearied friends; ill judging what The event: but when the favring god to Greece Gave the proud glory of this naval fight, Instant in all their glittring arms they leapd From their light ships, and all the island round Encompassd, that our bravest stood dismayd; While broken rocks, whirld with tempestuous force, And storms of arrows crushd them; then the Greeks Rush to the attack at once, and furious spread The carnage, till each mangled Persian fell.

Deep were the groans of Xerxes when he saw This havoc; for his seat, a lofty mound Commanding the wide sea, oerlookd his hosts.

With rueful cries he rent his royal robes, And through his troops embattled on the shore Gave signal of retreat; then started wild, And fled disorderd. To the former ills These are fresh miseries to awake thy sighs.

ATOSSA

Invidious Fortune, how thy baleful power Hath sunk the hopes of Persia! Bitter fruit My son hath tasted from his purposed vengeance On Athens, famed for arms; the fatal field Of Marathon, red with barbaric blood, Sufficed not; that defeat he thought to avenge, And pulld this hideous ruin on his head.

But tell me, if thou canst, where didst thou leave The ships that happily escaped the wreck?

MESSENGER

The poor remains of Persias scatterd fleet Spread evry sail for flight, as the wind drives, In wild disorder; and on land no less The ruind army; in Boeotia some,

With thirst oppressd, at Crenes cheerful rills Were lost; forespent with breathless speed some pass The fields of Phocis, some the Doric plain, And near the gulf of Melia, the rich vale Through which Sperchius rolls his friendly stream.

Achaea thence and the Thessalian state Received our famishd train; the greater part Through thirst and hunger perishd there, oppressd At once by both: but we our painful steps Held onwards to Magnesia, and the land Of Macedonia, oer the ford of Axius, And Bolbes sedgy marshes, and the heights Of steep Pangaeos, to the realms of Thrace.

That night, ere yet the season, breathing frore, Rushd winter, and with ice incrusted oer The flood of sacred Strymon: such as ownd No god till now, awe-struck, with many a prayer Adored the earth and sky. When now the troops Had ceased their invocations to the gods, Oer the streams solid crystal they began Their march; and we, who took our early way, Ere the sun darted his warm beams, passd safe: But when this burning orb with fiery rays Unbound the middle current, down they sunk Each over other; happiest he who found The speediest death: the poor remains, that scaped, With pain through Thrace draggd on their toilsome march, A feeble few, and reachd their native soil; That Persia sighs through all her states, and mourns Her dearest youth. This is no feigned tale: But many of the ills, that burst upon us In dreadful vengeance, I refrain to utter.

(The MESSENGER withdraws.)

LEADER OF THE CHORUS

O Fortune, heavy with afflictions load, How bath thy foot crushd all the Persian race!

ATOSSA

Ah me, what sorrows for our ruind host Oppress my soul! Ye visions of the night Haunting my dreams, how plainly did you show These ills!-You set them in too fair a light.

Yet, since your bidding hath in this prevaild, First to the gods wish I to pour my prayers, Then to the mighty dead present my off rings, Bringing libations from my house: too late, I know, to change the past; yet for the future, If haply better fortune may await it, Behooves you, on this sad event, to guide Your friends with faithful counsels. Should my son Return ere I have finishd, let your voice Speak comfort to him; friendly to his house Attend him, nor let sorrow rise on sorrows.

(ATOSSA and her retinue go out.)

CHORUS (singing)

strophe Awful sovereign of the skies,

When now oer Persias numerous host Thou badest the storm with ruin rise, All her proud vaunts of glory lost, Ecbatanas imperial head

By thee was wrappd in sorrows darkning shade; Through Susas palaces with loud lament, By their soft hands their veils all rent, The copious tear the virgins pour, That trickles their bare bosoms oer.

From her sweet couch up starts the widowd bride, Her lords loved image rushing on her soul, Throws the rich ornaments of youth aside, And gives her griefs to flow without control: Her griefs not causeless; for the mighty slain Our melting tears demand, and sorrow-softend strain.

antistrophe Now her wailings wide despair

Pours these exhausted regions oer: Xerxes, ill-fated, led the war;

Xerxes, ill-fated, leads no more; Xerxes sent forth the unwise command, The crowded ships unpeopled all the land; That land, oer which Darius held his reign, Courting the arts of peace, in vain, Oer all his grateful realms adored, The stately Susas gentle lord.

Black oer the waves his burdend vessels sweep, For Greece elate the warlike squadrons fly; Now crushd, and whelmd beneath the indignant deep The shatterd wrecks and lifeless heroes lie: While, from the arms of Greece escaped, with toil The unshelterd monarch roams oer Thracias dreary soil.

epode The first in battle slain

By Cychreas craggy shore

Through sad constraint, ah me! forsaken lie, All pale and smeard with gore:

Raise high the mournful strain, And let the voice of anguish pierce the sky:

Or roll beneath the roaring tide, By monsters rent of touch abhorrd; While through the widowd mansion echoing wide Sounds the deep groan, and wails its slaughterd lord: Pale with his fears the helpless orphan there Gives the full stream of plaintive grief to flow; While age its hoary head in deep despair Bends; listning to the shrieks of wo.

With sacred awe

The Persian law

No more shall Asias realms revere; To their lords hand

At his command,

No more the exacted tribute bear.

Who now falls prostrate at the monarchs throne?

His regal greatness is no more.

Now no restraint the wanton tongue shall own, Free from the golden curb of power; For on the rocks, washd by the beating flood, His awe commanding nobles lie in blood.

(ATOSSA returns, clad in the garb of mourning; she carries offerings for the tomb of Darius.)

ATOSSA

Whoeer, my friends, in the rough stream of life Hath struggled with affliction, thence is taught That, when the flood begins to swell, the heart Fondly fears all things; when the favring gale Of Fortune smooths the current, it expands With unsuspecting confidence, and deems That gale shall always breathe. So to my eyes All things now wear a formidable shape, And threaten from the gods: my ears are pierced With sounds far other than of song. Such ills Dismay my sickning soul: hence from my house Nor glittring car attends me, nor the train Of wonted state, while I return, and bear Libations soothing to the fathers shade In the sons cause; delicious milk, that foams White from the sacred heifer; liquid honey, Extract of flowers; and from its virgin fount The running crystal; this pure draught, that flowd From the ancient vine, of power to bathe the spirits In joy; the yellow olives fragrant fruit, That glories in its leaves unfading verdure; With flowers of various hues, earths fairest offspring Inwreathed. But you, my friends, amid these rites Raise high your solemn warblings, and invoke Your lord, divine Darius; I meanwhile Will pour these offrings to the infernal gods.

CHORUS (chanting)

Yes, royal lady, Persias honourd grace, To earths dark chambers pour thy offrings: we With choral hymns will supplicate the powers That guide the dead, to be propitious to us.

And you, that oer the realms of night extend Your sacred sway, thee mighty earth, and the Hermes; thee chief, tremendous king, whose throne Awes with supreme dominion, I adjure: Send, from your gloomy regions, send his shade Once more to visit this ethereal light; That he alone, if aught of dread event He sees yet threatning Persia, may disclose To us poor mortals Fates extreme decree.

Hears the honourd godlike king?

These barbaric notes of wo,

Taught in descant sad to ring,

Hears he in the shades below?

Thou, O Earth, and you, that lead Through your sable realms the dead, Guide him as he takes his way,

And give him to the ethereal light of day!

Let the illustrious shade arise

Glorious in his radiant state,

More than blazed before our eyes, Ere sad Susa mournd his fate.

Dear he lived, his tomb is dear,

Shrining virtues we revere:

Send then, monarch of the dead,

Such as Darius was, Darius shade.

He in realm-unpeopling war

Wasted not his subjects blood, Godlike in his will to spare,

In his councils wise and good.

Rise then, sovereign lord, to light; On this mounds sepulchral height Lift thy sock in saffron died,

And rear thy rich tiaras regal pride!

Great and good, Darius, rise:

Lord of Persias lord, appear:

Thus involved with thrilling cries Come, our tale of sorrow hear!

War her Stygian pennons spreads,

Brooding darkness oer our heads; For stretchd along the dreary shore The flowr of Asia lies distaind with gore.

Rise, Darius, awful power;

Long for thee our tears shall flow.

Why thy ruind empire oer

Swells this double flood of wo?

Sweeping oer the azure tide

Rode thy navys gallant pride:

Navy now no more, for all

Beneath the whelming wave

(While the CHORUS Sings, ATOSSA performs her ritual by the tomb. As the song concludes the GHOST OF DARIUS appears from the tomb.) GHOST OF DARIUS

Ye faithful Persians, honourd now in age, Once the companions of my youth, what ills Afflict the state? The firm earth groans, it opes, Disclosing its vast deeps; and near my tomb I see my wife: this shakes my troubled soul With fearful apprehensions; yet her offrings Pleased I receive. And you around my tomb Chanting the lofty strain, whose solemn air Draws forth the dead, with grief-attemperd notes Mournfully call me: not with ease the way Leads to this upper air; and the stern gods, Prompt to admit, yield not a passage back But with reluctance: much with them my power Availing, with no tardy step I come.

Say then, with what new ill doth Persia groan?

CHORUS (chanting)

My wonted awe oercomes me; in thy presence I dare not raise my eyes, I dare not speak.

GHOST OF DARIUS

Since from the realms below, by thy sad strains Adjured, I come, speak; let thy words be brief; Say whence thy grief, tell me unawed by fear.

I dread to forge a flattering tale, I dread To grieve thee with a harsh offensive truth.

GHOST OF DARIUS

Since fear hath chained his tongue, high-honourd dame, Once my imperial consort, check thy tears, Thy griefs, and speak distinctly. Mortal man Must bear his lot of wo; afflictions rise Many from sea, many from land, if life Be haply measured through a lengthend course.

ATOSSA

O thou that graced with Fortunes choicest gifts Surpassing mortals, while thine eye beheld Yon suns ethereal rays, livedst like a god Blessd amid thy Persians; blessd I deem thee now In death, ere sunk in this abyss of ills, Darius, hear at once our sum of wo;

Ruin through all her states hath crushd thy Persia.

GHOST OF DARIUS

By pestilence, or factions furious storms?

ATOSSA

Not so: near Athens perishd all our troops.

GHOST OF DARIUS

Say, of my sons, which led the forces thither?

ATOSSA

The impetuous Xerxes, thinning all the land.

GHOST OF DARIUS

By sea or land dared he this rash attempt?

ATOSSA

By both: a double front the war presented.

GHOST OF DARIUS

A host so vast what march conducted oer?

ATOSSA

From shore to shore he bridged the Hellespont.

GHOST OF DARIUS

What! could he chain the mighty Bosphorus?

ATOSSA

Evn so, some god assisting his design.

GHOST OF DARIUS

Some god of power to cloud his better sense.

ATOSSA

The event now shows what mischiefs he achieved.

GHOST OF DARIUS

What sufferd they, for whom your sorrows flow?

ATOSSA

His navy sunk spreads ruin through the camp.

GHOST OF DARIUS

Fell all his host beneath the slaughtring spear?

ATOSSA

Susa, through all her streets, mourns her lost sons.

GHOST OF DARIUS

How vain the succour, the defence of arms?

ATOSSA

In Bactra age and grief are only left.

GHOST OF DARIUS

Ah, what a train of warlike youth is lost!

ATOSSA

Xerxes, astonished, desolate, alone

GHOST OF DARIUS

How will this end? Nay, pause not. Is he safe?

ATOSSA

Fled oer the bridge, that joind the adverse strands.

GHOST OF DARIUS

And reachd this shore in safety? Is this true?

ATOSSA

True are thy words, and not to be gainsayd.

GHOST OF DARIUS

With what a winged course the oracles Haste their completion! With the lightnings speed Jove on my son hath hurled his threatend vengeance: Yet I implored the gods that it might fall In times late process: but when rashness drives Impetuous on, the scourge of Heaven upraised Lashes the Fury forward; hence these ills Pour headlong on my friends. Not weighing this, My son, with all the fiery pride of youth, Hath quickened their arrival, while he hoped To bind the sacred Hellespont, to hold The raging Bosphorus, like a slave, in chains, And dared the adventrous passage, bridging firm With links of solid iron his wondrous way, To lead his numerous host; and swelld with thoughts Presumptuous, deemd, vain mortal! that his power Should rise above the gods, and Neptunes might.

And was riot this the phrensy of the soul?

But much I fear lest all my treasured wealth Fall to some daring hand an easy prey.

ATOSSA

This from too frequent converse with bad men The impetuous Xerxes learnd; these caught his ear With thy great deeds, as winning for thy sons Vast riches with thy conquering spear, while he Timrous and slothful, never, save in sport, Lifted his lance, nor added to the wealth Won by his noble fathers. This reproach Oft by bad men repeated, urged his soul To attempt this war, and lead his troops to Greece.

GHOST OF DARIUS

Great deeds have they achieved, and memorable For ages: never hath this wasted state Sufferd such ruin, since heavens awful king Gave to one lord Asias extended plains White with innumerous flocks, and to his hands Consignd the imperial sceptre. Her brave hosts A Mede first led; the virtues of his son Fixd firm the empire, for his temperate soul Breathed prudence. Cyrus next, by fortune graced, Adornd the throne, and blessd his grateful friends With peace: he to his mighty monarchy Joind Lydia, and the Phrygians; to his power Ionia bent reluctant; but the gods

His son then wore the regal diadem.

With victory his gentle virtues crownd His son then wore the regal diadem.

Next to disgrace his country, and to stain The splendid glories of this ancient throne, Rose Mardus: him, with righteous vengeance fired Artaphernes, and his confederate chiefs Crushd in his palace: Maraphis assumed The sceptre: after him Artaphernes.

Me next to this exalted eminence,

Crowning my great ambition, Fortune raised.

In many a glorious field my glittering spear Flamed in the van of Persias numerous hosts; But never wrought such ruin to the state.

Xerxes, my son, in all the pride of youth Listens to youthful counsels, my commands No more rememberd; hence, my hoary friends, Not the whole line of Persias sceptred lords, You know it well, so wasted her brave sons.

LEADER OF THE CHORUS

Why this? To what fair end are these thy words Directed? Sovereign lord, instruct thy Persians How, mid this ruin, best to guide their state.

GHOST OF DARIUS

No more gainst Greece lead your embattled hosts; Not though your deepning phalanx spreads the field Outnumbring theirs: their very earth fights for them.

LEADER

What may thy words import? How fight for them?

GHOST OF DARIUS

With famine it destroys your cumbrous train.

LEADER

Choice levies, prompt for action, will we send, GHOST OF DARIUS

Those, in the fields of Greece that now remain, Shall not revisit safe the Persian shore.

LEADER

What! shall not all the host of Persia pass Again from Europe oer the Hellespont?

GHOST OF DARIUS

Of all their numbers few, if aught avails The faith of heaven-sent oracles to him That weighs the past, in their accomplishment Not partial: hence he left, in faithless hope Confiding, his selected train of heroes.

These have their station where Asopus flows Watring the plain, whose grateful currents roll Diffusing plenty through Boeotias fields.

There misery waits to crush them with the load Of heaviest ills, in vengeance for their proud And impious daring; for whereer they held Through Greece their march, they feard not to profane The statues of the gods; their hallowd shrines Emblazed, oerturnd their altars, and in ruins, Rent from their firm foundations, to the ground Levelld their temples; such their frantic deeds, Nor less their suffrings; greater still await them; For Vengeance hath not wasted all her stores; The heap yet swells; for in Plataeas plains Beneath the Doric spear the clotted mas Of carnage shall arise, that the high mounds, Piled oer the dead, to late posterity Shall give this silent record to mens eyes, That proud aspiring thoughts but ill beseem Weak mortals: for oppression, when it springs, Puts forth the blade of vengeance, and its fruit Yields a ripe harvest of repentant wo.

Behold this vengeance, and remember Greece, Remember Athens: henceforth let not pride, Her present state disdaining, strive to grasp Anothers, and her treasured happiness Shed on the ground: such insolent attempts Awake the vengeance of offended Jove.

But you, whose age demands more temperate thoughts, With words of well-placed counsel teach his youth To curb that pride, which from the gods calls down Destruction on his head. (To ATOSSA) And thou, whose age The miseries of thy Xerxes sink with sorrow, Go to thy house, thence choose the richest robe, And meet thy son; for through the rage of grief His gorgeous vestments from his royal limbs Are foully rent. With gentlest courtesy Soothe his affliction; for is duteous ear, I know, will listen to thy voice alone.

Now to the realms of darkness I descend.

My ancient friends, farewell, and mid these ills Each day in pleasures battle your drooping spirits, For treasured riches naught avail the dead.

(The GHOST OF DARIUS vanishes into the tomb.) LEADER

These many present, many future ills

Denounced on Persia, sink my soul with grief.

ATOSSA

Unhappy fortune, what a tide of ills

Bursts oer me! Chief this foul disgrace, which shows My son divested of his rich attire,

His royal robes all rent, distracts my thoughts.

But I will go, choose the most gorgeous vest, And liaste to meet my son. Neer in his woes Will I forsake whom my soul holds most dear.

(ATOSSA departs as the CHORUS begins its song.) CHORUS
strophe 1

Ye powers that rule the skies,

Memory recalls our great, our happy fate, Our well-appointed state,

The scenes of glory opening to our eyes, When this vast empire oer

The good Darius, with each virtue blessd That forms a monarchs breast,

Shielding his subjects with a fathers care Invincible in war,

Extended like a god his awful power,

Then spread our arms their glory wide, Guarding to peace her golden reign: Each towerd city saw with pride

Safe from the toils of war her homeward-marching train.

antistrophe 1

Nor Halys shallow strand

He passd, nor from his palace moved his state; He spoke; his word was Fate.

What strong-based cities could his might withstand?

Not those that lift their heads Where to the sea the floods of Strymon pass, Leaving the huts of Thrace;

Nor those, that far the extended ocean oer Stand girt with many a tower;

Nor where the Hellespont his broad wave spreads; Nor the firm bastions rampired might, Whose foot the deep Propontis laves; Nor those, that glorying in their height Frown oer the Pontic sea, and shade his darkend waves.

strophe 2

Each sea-girt isle around

Bowd to this monarch: humbled Lesbos bowd; Paros, of its marble proud;

Naxos with vines, with olives Samos crownd: Him Myconos adored;

Chios, the seat of beauty; Andros steep, That stretches oer the deep

To meet the watry Tenos; him each bay Bound by the Icarian sea,

Him Melos, Gnidus, Rhodes confessd their lord; Oer Cyprus stretchd his sceptred hand: Paphos and Solos ownd his power, And Salamis, whose hostile strand, The cause of all our wo, is red with Persian gore.

antistrophe 2

Evn the proud towns, that reard Sublime along the lonian coast their towers, Where wealth her treasures pours, Peopled from Greece, his prudent reign revered.

With such unconquerd might

His hardy warriors shook the embattled fields, Heroes that Persia yields,

And those from distant realms that took their way, And wedged in close array

Beneath his glittring banners claimd the fight.

But now these glories are no more: Farewell the big wars plumed pride: The gods have crushd this trophied power; Sunk are our vanquishd arms beneath the indignant tide.

(XERXES enters, with a few followers. His royal raiment is torn, The entire closing scene is sung or chanted.)

XERXES

Ah me, how sudden have the storms of Fate, Beyond all thought, all apprehension, burst On my devoted head! O Fortune, Fortune!

With what relentless fury hath thy hand Hurld desolation on the Persian race!

Wo unsupportable! The torturing thought Of our lost youth comes rushing on my mind, And sinks me to the ground. O Jove, that Had died with those brave men that died in fight I CHORUS

O thou afflicted monarch, once the lord Of marshalld armies, of the lustre beamd From glorys ray oer Persia, of her sons The pride, the grace, whom ruin now hath sunk In blood! The unpeopled land laments her youth By Xerxes led to slaughter, till the realms Of death are gorged with Persians; for the flower Of all the realm, thousands, whose dreadful bows With arrowy shower annoyd the foe, are falln.

XERXES

Your fall, heroic youths, distracts my soul.

CHORUS

And Asia sinking on her knee, O king, Oppressd, with griefs oppressd, bends to the earth.

XERXES

And I, O wretched fortune, I was born To crush, to desolate my ruind country!

CHORUS

I have no voice, no swelling harmony, No descant, save these notes of wo,

Harsh, and responsive to the sullen sigh, Rude strains, that unmelodious flow,

To welcome thy return.

XERXES

Then bid them flow, bid the wild measures flow Hollow, unmusical, the notes of grief; They suit my fortune, and dejected state.

CHORUS

Yes, at thy royal bidding shall the strain Pour the deep sorrows of my soul; The suffrings of my bleeding country plain, And bid the mournful measures roll.

Again the voice of wild despair

With thrilling shrieks shall pierce the air; For high the god of war his flaming crest Raised, with the fleet of Greece surrounded, The haughty arms of Greece with conquest blessd, And Persias witherd force confounded, Dashd on the dreary beach her heroes slain, Or whelmd them in the darkend main.

XERXES

To swell thy griefs ask evry circumstance.

CHORUS

Where are thy valiant friends, thy chieftains where?

Pharnaces, Susas, and the might

Of Pelagon, and Dotamas? The spear

Of Agabates bold in fight?

Psammis in mailed cuirass dressd, And Susiscanes glittring crest?

XERXES

Dashd from the Tyrian vessel on the rocks Of Salamis they sunk, and smeard with gore The heroes on the dreary strand are stretchd.

CHORUS

Where is Pharnuchus? Ariomardus where, With evry gentle virtue graced?

Lilaeus, that from chiefs renownd in war His high-descended lineage traced?

Where rears Sebalces his crown-circled head: Where Tharybis to battles bred,

Artembares, Hystaechmes bold,

Memphis, Masistress sheathd in gold?

XERXES

Wretch that I am! These on the abhorred town Ogygian Athens, rolld their glowing eyes Indignant; but at once in the fierce shock Of battle fell, dashd breathless on the ground.

CHORUS

There does the son of Batanochus lie, Through whose rich veins the unsullied blood Of Susamus, down from the lineage high Of noble Mygabatas flowd:

Alpistus, who with faithful care

Numberd the deepning files of war, The monarchs eye; on the ensanguined plain Low is the mighty warrior laid?

Is great Aebares mong the heroes slain, And Partheus numberd with the dead?

Ah me! those bursting groans, deep-charged with wo, The fate of Persias princes show.

XERXES

To my grieved memory thy mournful voice, Tuned to the saddest notes of wo, recalls My brave friends lost; and my rent heart returns In dreadful symphony the sorrowing strain.

CHORUS

Yet once more shall I ask thee, yet once more, Where is the Mardian Xanthes might, The daring chief, that from the Pontic shore Led his strong phalanx to the fight?

Anchares where, whose high-raised shield Flamed foremost in the embattled field?

Where the high leaders of thy mail-clad horse, Daixis and Arsaces where?

Where Cigdadatas and Lythimnas force, Waving untired his purple spear?

XERXES

Entombd, I saw them in the earth entombd; Nor did the rolling car with solemn state Attend their rites: I followd: low they lie (Ah me, the once great leaders of my host! Low in the earth, without their honours lie.

CHORUS

O wo, wo, wo! Unutterable wo

The demons of revenge have spread;

And Ate from her drear abode below

Rises to view the horrid deed.

XERXES

Dismay, and rout, and ruin, ills that wait On mans afflicted fortune, sink us down.

CHORUS

Dismay, and rout, and ruin on us wait, And all the vengeful storms of Fate:

Ill flows on ill, on sorrows sorrows rise; Misfortune leads her baleful train;

Before the Ionian squadrons Persia flies, Or sinks ingulfd beneath the main.

Falln, falln is her imperial power, And conquest on her banners waits no more.

XERXES

At such a fall, such troops of heroes lost, How can my soul but sink in deep despair!

Cease thy sad strain.

CHORUS

Is all thy glory lost?

XERXES

Seest thou these poor remains of my rent robes?

CHORUS

I see, I see.

XERXES

And this ill-furnishd quiver?

CHORUS

Wherefore preserved?

XERXES

To store my treasured arrows.

CHORUS

Few, very few.

XERXES

And few my friendly aids.

CHORUS

I thought these Grecians shrunk appalld at arms.

XERXES

No: they are bold and daring: these sad eyes Beheld their violent and deathful deeds.

CHORUS

The ruin, sayst thou, of thy shattered fleet?

XERXES

And in the anguish of my soul I rent

My royal robes.

CHORUS

Wo, wo!

XERXES

And more than wo.

CHORUS

Redoubled, threefold wo!

XERXES

Disgrace to me,

But triumph to the foe.

CHORUS

Are all thy powers

In ruin crushd?

XERXES

No satrap guards me now.

CHORUS

Thy faithful friends sunk in the roaring main.

XERXES

Weep, weep their loss, and lead me to my house; Answer my grief with grief, an ill return Of ills for ills. Yet once more raise that strain Lamenting my misfortunes; beat thy breast, Strike, heave the groan; awake the Mysian strain To notes of loudest wo; rend thy rich robes, Pluck up thy beard, tear off thy hoary locks, And battle thine eyes in tears: thus through the streets Solemn and slow with sorrow lead my steps; Lead to my house, and wail the fate of Persia.

CHORUS

Yes, once more at thy bidding shall the strain Pour the deep sorrows of my soul;

The suffrings of my bleeding untry plain, And bid the Mysian measures roll.

Again the voice of wild despair

With thrilling shrieks shall pierce the air; For high the god of war his flaming crest Raised, with the fleet of Greece surrounded, The haughty arms of Greece with conquest blessd, And Persias withered force confounded, Dashd on the dreary beach her heroes slain., Or whelmd them in the darkend main.

THE END

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