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Title: The Persians [Persae]
Author: Aeschylus (ca. 525-456 B.C.)
Translator: Murray, George Gilbert Aim (1866-1957)
Date of first publication [this translation]: 1939
Date of first performance [original play]: 472 B.C.
Edition used as base for this ebook:
   London: George Allen & Unwin, 1939
   [first edition]
Date first posted: 19 March 2011
Date last updated: 19 March 2011
Project Gutenberg Canada ebook #752

This ebook was produced by:
Barbara Watson, James Wright
& the Online Distributed Proofreading Canada Team
at http://www.pgdpcanada.net






                                  THE PERSIANS




                            Uniform with this volume

                                    EURIPIDES

                         Alcestis (_24th Thousand_)
                          Bacch (_29th Thousand_)
                          Electra (_50th Thousand_)
                        Hippolytus (_38th Thousand_)
                   Iphigenia in Tauris (_32nd Thousand_)
                           Medea (_33rd Thousand_)
                           Rhesus (_9th Thousand_)
                      The Trojan Women (_39th Thousand_)


                                   ARISTOPHANES

                          The Frogs (_24th Thousand_)


                                    SOPHOCLES

                    Oedipus, King of Thebes (_24th Thousand_)


                                    AESCHYLUS

                         Agamemnon (_14th Thousand_)
                       The Chophoroe (_5th Thousand_)
                       The Eumenides (_4th Thousand_)
               The Suppliant Women (Supplices) (_4th Thousand_)
                      Prometheus Bound (_4th Thousand_)
                   The Seven Against Thebes (_4th Thousand_)

                        The Oresteia (Collected Edition)




                                   AESCHYLUS

                                 THE PERSIANS

                                   [Persae]

                   Translated into English rhyming verse
                         with Preface and Notes

                                      by
                                GILBERT MURRAY
                        D.C.L., LL.D., LITT.D., F.B.A.


                                    London
                          GEORGE ALLEN & UNWIN LTD
                                 Museum Street




                           FIRST PUBLISHED IN 1939




                             ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

                          PRINTED IN GREAT BRITAIN
                       _in 11-Point Caslon Old Face_

                          BY UNWIN BROTHERS LIMITED
                                   WOKING




                                   PREFACE


THE PERSIANS is often described as a historical play, and consequently
as the earliest historical play in existence. But the phrase is
misleading. No doubt the play is an immensely valuable historical
document. It gives a detailed account of one of the great decisive
battles of the world fought more than two thousand four hundred years
ago; an account by one who was not only an eye-witness but a combatant,
not only a combatant but a man of genius. But the truth is, all Greek
tragedies were to the Greeks historical. The murder of Agamemnon, the
madness of Orestes or Alcmaeon, the sacrifice or non-sacrifice of
Iphigenia, were all parts of a great floating mass of tradition kept
alive in people's memories by story-tellers, by poets, or by religious
rituals. The peculiar fact about THE PERSIANS is not that its subject is
historical, but that it is recent, and, although recent, is admitted to
the tremendous dignity of the heroic drama. The deliverance from Persia
was felt at that time to be something miraculous, superhuman; a thing to
make a man kneel and pray rather than boast. "It is not we who have done
this," exclaimed Themistocles, the chief engineer of the victory, after
his crowning success. It was the gods and heroes striking down the pride
and impiety of man. (_Herodotus_ VIII. 109.)

This feeling of religious thankfulness found expression in several
ways. Notably it entered into the public festivals. At the Great
Dionysia a tragedy on the subject by the poet Phrynichus was performed
as soon as Athens was restored after the Persian retreat. It was called
the _Phoenissae_ or _Women of Sidon_--doubtless such women formed the
chorus--and its sweet Ionian lyrics lived long in the memories of
Athens. Aristophanes describes old admirers of Phrynichus, fifty years
afterwards, humming its tunes as they walked up the hill towards the law
courts,

              Staffs in their hands, old music on their lips,
              Wild honey and the East and loveliness.

Aeschylus' play, some five or six years later, is said to have been a
sort of _remaniement_ of Phrynichus' theme, with the scene changed, the
chorus different, and doubtless many other elements altered. One would
not be surprised to learn that there had been a regular celebration of
the Great Deliverance at the Dionysia every year from 477 to 472; but if
so, the institution was not permanent. Tragedy was not quite the
suitable vehicle for such a record of joy and thanksgiving. Tragedy is a
_Trauerspiel_, a Lamentation; and of necessity must set its scene among
the defeated. There was also a celebration at the Panathenaic Festival,
where an epic by Choirilos on the story of the Persian War had for a
time the unique privilege of being recited along with the poems of
Homer. In the Aianteia, too, an old festival in honour of Ajax the
Salaminian hero, the Battle of Salamis seems to have found a place. In
sum, if we wish to use a modern analogy, THE PERSIANS is more like a
national celebration or thanksgiving service than a historical play of
the Shakespearian sort. But such comparisons are all apt to be
misleading. THE PERSIANS is a Greek tragedy. Its story seemed, even to
those who had taken part in it, to belong to the heroic tradition
through its grandeur and mystery; to the religious tradition because it
represented the judgment of the gods and heroes on the impious
atheists--or monotheists: there was little difference between them--who
had sacked their temples and overthrown their altars and images. It is
interesting to notice that an earlier attempt by Phrynichus to use
contemporary events as a theme for tragedy was resented and punished. He
was heavily fined for his _Taking of Miletus_; no doubt other causes may
have been at work, but evidently a mere military disaster was not
thought suitable for the heroic stage.

The extreme simplicity of THE PERSIANS in staging and construction need
hardly surprise us. It puts the play where it chronologically belongs,
somewhere between the _Suppliant Women_ and the _Seven against Thebes_.
Only two characters are ever on the stage at once; only two have names,
the rest are simply Messenger, Chorus, Queen--for the name Atossa does
not occur in the text. As for the scene, Aeschylus seems to have used
the plain round orchestra or dancing ground, with a small structure in
the centre which does for an altar or for the tomb of Darius, as may be
required, and a _skn_ or house-front at the back, which serves equally
for a council-chamber where the Elders sit or for the palace of the
Queen. The place of action is of course Persia; but it would be mere
modern elaboration to try to fix it in some particular locality in
Persia. The Elders speak of themselves as being in Susa, the tomb of
Darius was really just outside Persepolis, many hundred miles away,
while the reception of Xerxes at the end of the play suggests that he
has only just reached his native land.

A more interesting point is the method by which Aeschylus contrives to
remove his theme from the atmosphere of the poor prosaic here-and-now
into that of the heroic "far away and long ago." In the first place no
Greek is ever mentioned by name. To say a word in praise of Themistocles
or Aristdes would have spoilt everything. We may remember how Pheidias
was found guilty of "impiety" for putting alleged likenesses of himself
and Pericles in the battle with the Amazons on Athena's shield. Persians
on the other hand are mentioned abundantly and with deliberate effect.
Artaphernes, Artembares and Hystaichmas seemed remote and awful beings
with the fascination of distance about them. Their names too are grand
and barbaric. They fit in with the strange oriental
interjections--Aristophanes accuses the Chorus of saying "Yow-oy," but
that is an exaggeration--the strange forms like "Darina" for Darius,
and "Balln" for some Phoenician phrase like "Ba'alnu," "our Baal or
Lord", and the many ingenious arrangements of words really Greek so as
to sound exotic. To reproduce this effect I have ventured to use the
Biblical Javan, or Ywn, to transliterate In, or In, the name by
which the Persians called the Greeks, and have occasionally knocked off
from proper names the final syllable with which they were Hellenized and
which to our ears makes them all sound Greek.

But of course mere remoteness is not enough to lift a theme to the
height of tragedy. It needs positive dignity as well. And THE PERSIANS
has that dignity to the full. There is no abuse of the enemy, no
ridicule, no mean exultation; no accusations of cowardice or cruelty.
Atossa and Darius are noble figures. The princes and satraps who fell in
battle make an impression of grandeur. Even Xerxes, in the full flood of
his oriental lamentations, accepts generously the whole blame for his
country's defeat. Modern vulgarity did not make its appearance till
about a century later in the _Persae_ of Timotheus, when it roused, one
is glad to know, a storm of artistic disapprobation.

Not that Xerxes is for a moment excused. The invasion of Hellas is a
crime, the crime of _Hubris_, dark but heroic; the crime of one who
claims to be, for some fantastic reason or no reason at all, above human
kind and above the law. Such _Hubris_ is according to Greek beliefs the
sin of sins, the forbidden fruit always tempting proud man to his
destruction. For the truth is against him; he is not what he imagines.
He is but a man like other men, and above him is the eternal law of God.
One can hardly help reflecting how deeply our world of to-day is
overshadowed by the presence of that same inhuman _Hubris_, and how it
still sits wondering whether it dare believe as the Greeks did.




                                 THE PERSIANS




                            CHARACTERS IN THE PLAY


                           CHORUS of PERSIAN ELDERS.
                           ATOSSA, the QUEEN, MOTHER of XERXES.
                           MESSENGER.
                           DARIUS, FATHER of XERXES.
                           XERXES, KING of PERSIA.




The play was first acted in the year 472 B.C., eight years after
the Battle of Salamis. The first prize was won by Aeschylus,
with the _Phineus_, _Persians_, _Glaucus of Potniae_, and _Prometheus_.




                                 THE PERSIANS                             [1-15]


[_The stage, or rather Orchstra, is a large round space with no scenery
except a House Front at the back and an altar-like structure in the
centre. In the first division of the play_ (_ll._ 1-153) _we are before
the Council Chamber at Susa, in the second_ (_ll._ 596-851) _at the Tomb
of Darius, in the third before the King's Palace._]

                                   CHORUS.

Faithful to them that sailed o'ersea
To Grecian lands our name we hold,
"The Persians' Trust"; true guardians we
Of many a temple rich in gold
And holy, whom our Lord and King,
  Xerxes, Darius-born,
For age and honour hath extolled
  To watch his land forlorn.
And while we wait his homecoming,
For him and for his golden host
With fear and dark imagining
My spirit in a storm is tossed.
For all the strength of Asia born,
Like hounds at a young master's horn
  Baying, away hath flown,
And now for long no royal post
Cometh, no rider from the host,
  Back to great Persia's Throne.
From Agbatan, from Susa tall,                                            [16-41]
From ancient Kissia's guarded wall,
We saw the horse and chariot go,
The gliding ships, the footmen slow,
  In pomp of war far-thrown.
Among them men of mighty name,
Amistras, Artaphernes, came,
Astaspes, Megabtes, Lords
Of Persia, kings beneath the Eye
Of the one King, most great, most high,
  Ruling their subject hordes,
With trampling horse, with clanging bow,
Dread to behold and stern to know,
  High hearts and faithful swords.
Then Artembar, glad knight in fray,
Imaios of the shafts that slay,
Masistras, Pharandkes, yea,
  And charioted Sosthnes
Rode past us. Many another king
Did Nile the many-childed bring,
To war; the Master of the Spring,
  Egyptian Sousisknes,
Arsam the tall, who holdeth guard
O'er holy Memphis, Ariomard
From ageless Thebes, with river men
Who bend the bow and stride the fen,
  Multitudes dark and fell.
We saw the armies proud and gay
Of Lydia, who in thralldom sway
The tribes of Asia; them the wise                                        [42-64]
Arcteus and Mtrogthes, Eyes
Of the Great King, from Sardis sent
With all her golden armament:
In fourfold aye and sixfold team
We saw their myriad chariots gleam,
  Fearful to see or tell.
There marched the Tmolian mountaineer
Who vowed on Hellas' neck to cast
The bond slave's yoke. There Mardon passed
And Tharybis, anvils of the spear;
There, rank by rank, the Mysian lance
Flashed; and with trailing wide advance
There swept the golden Babylon
Her motley nations on and on;
Men of the river, men who know
The magic of the fearless bow,
And all the long-knived multitude
Of Asia's hidden valleys, rude
But faithful, followed, row on row,
  King's men untameable.

--So hath the flower of Persia's youth
  Departed, whom in strong desire
  This Asian soil that nursed their growth
  Lamenteth; and without avail
    Full many a sire,
  Full many a wife and mother stay
  Waiting as day still followeth day,
    And dread the lengthening tale.

                                      [_Strophe_ 1                       [65-86]
--They are gone, the great armies battle-proven,
    City-quellers; they have reached the further side;
  They have builded them a causeway flax-enwoven
    O'er the strait where maiden Helle sank and died.
      For they sought a path and found it,
      And with many fetters bound it
    For a yoke upon the shoulders of the tide.

                                  [_Antistrophe_ 1
And the dread King, his multitudes he guideth
  As a flock God hath given to his hand.
In his stern true captains he confideth
  To be masters of the water and the land.
    From the shower of heavenly gold
    Were his fathers sprung of old,
  And god-like among mortals doth he stand.

                                      [_Strophe_ 2
In his dark eye is the glare of a serpent, flashing fear;
  Many-handed, many-navied, he hath spurred his Syrian car;
He descendeth on the nations; he has baffled the strong spear
  With the bow-shaft that slayeth from afar.

                                  [_Antistrophe_ 2                      [87-106]
In whom, then, confide ye, to withstand the armd flood,
  Put his gyves upon the storm and enchain the rushing tide?
For the armies of the Persian none living hath withstood,
  And the land's heart laugheth in its pride.

                                      [_Strophe_ 3
So it hath been from of old; the o'erthrowing of strong towers
  Is the birthright of the Persian, god-appointed to his trust;
And the thunder of the horsemen and their gladness, it is ours,
    And the trampling of cities in the dust.

                                  [_Antistrophe_ 3
We have turned us to the sea, and no fear is in our mind;
  With our bridges cable-woven we have climbed from steep to steep;
We have seen the waves whiten in the fury of the wind,
  We have faced the holy places of the deep.

--But the deep craft of God, who shall 'scape from it or hide him?     [107-127]
    Can the runner run so swift, can the leaper leap so high?
  Man seeeth but a smile, and lo, At is beside him,
      With the net none outclimbeth till he die.

                                      [_Strophe_ 4
    --Therefore doth my spirit mourn,
      Robed in darkness, stabbed with fear,
      Lest a cry the people hear,
      "Woe, woe;
      Woe for Persia's host forlorn,"
      Ringing through the wide unmanned
      Streets of Susa's lonely land

                                  [_Antistrophe_ 4
      And the ancient Kissian hold
      Shall reply with manifold
      Lamentation, murmuring,
      "Woe, woe,
      Woe for people and for King,"
      Till the women weep, and tear
      The fine linen robes they wear.

      All the hands that chariots drive,
      All the feet of armd tread,
      Gone, like bees that leave the hive,                             [128-154]
      Round their one lord marshalld:
      Out beyond the bridgd tide
      That doth world from world divide.

      And at home, whence these are gone
      There be pillows wet with tears,
      Where some woman, delicately
      Proud, as Persian women be,
      Yearning for her man, her own
      Battle-fiery warrior, gone
      Forth amid the flashing spears,
        Bears the yoke alone.

                                   LEADER.

  --Peace! And before this ancient pile,
    Lords of the land true-counselling,
    Repose ye, and take thought the while
    What need is come, how fares our King:
    Is it the bow's victorious sway
    Or iron spear-head wins the day?

     --But hither, like a star of heaven
        One cometh, Mother to the King
      And Queen to me. I bow the knee.
        Persians, to her be reverence given
        By all, and words of welcoming.

      [_As the_ ELDERS _move right and left to sit upon the steps
           the_ QUEEN _enters in her chariot of state with many
           followers_.

                                   LEADER.                             [155-167]

O Queen most high, above all Persia's deep-girt daughters glorified,
Thou Xerxes' reverend Mother, Hail! All hail to thee, Darius' bride.
A god of Persia gave thee love, a god of Persia hast thou born,
Unless that star that shone of old hath faded from this land forlorn.

                                   ATOSSA.

For that I came. For that I left my chambers canopied with gold,
Darius' chamber, where he slept, where in his arms I lay of old;
And care is plucking at my heart. O friends and faithful, to your ears
I trust a tale, not mine alone; the tale of one beset with fears
Lest Fate, our master, overturn, onsweeping with relentless stride,
The splendours that Darius reared when, sure, some god was at his side.
For that there murmureth in my heart a thought two-edged and hard to tell:
"Put not thy trust in store of wealth, save men be there to guard it well:
Nor if the poor man's fame is dim, forget what strength is in his hand."
Wealth, arms, and ships enough are ours. Yet for the Eye of all        [168-184]
    the land
I tremble. Is not Persia's Eye her King? Therefore I ask of you
Your counsel in this fear, my Persians, ye the agd and the true,
In whom for faithful words and wise my trust is and has ever been.

                                   LEADER.

Thou art the mistress of the land, and ne'er shalt summon twice, O Queen,
Our aid in counsel or in act, where'er we have the power to guide;
Servants true-hearted in thy need are these thou callest to thy side.
               [ATOSSA _descends from the Chariot_.

                                   ATOSSA.

Long have I dwelt with visions through the hours
Of darkness, ever since, with all his powers
Marshalled, my son departed for the shore
Of Hellas, conquering. But ne'er before
Flashed there so clear a vision on my sight--
I tell thee the whole tale--as yester night.
Meseemed there came two women in fair guise,
Robed, one in Persian garb, one Dorian-wise,
Clear to my dreaming sight: in stature far
Grander they seemed than earthly women are,
Of flawless beauty, sisters of one race.                               [185-211]
Each had her home in its appointed place,
In Hellas one, and one in Barbary.
Then rose between them, so I seemed to see,
Some discord; and my son saw, and would fain
Calm them, and make them gentle to the rein
Beneath his chariot, and his yoke would bind
On both their necks; and one with head inclined
Was glad and plumed her in that harness proud,
Meek to the curb. The other, all uncowed,
Struggled, and with both hands asunder tore
The harness, and away unbridled bore
The chariot, and at mid-yoke snapt the wood;
And my son fell. And there beside him stood
His father, King Darius, pityingly.
And Xerxes, when he saw him, gave a cry
And rent his robes. So much I saw in dream.
  I rose and quickly in a flowing stream
Cleansed me, and with an incense-bearing train
Approached our altar-stair, to pour amain
To Them that avert Evil their full meed
Of offering. They it is whom now we need.
When, lo, an eagle in the air, which fled
To Apollo's temple! Dumb I stood with dread:
And looked, and there, pursuing in full flight,
A hawk wide-winged, with talons stretched to smite
The eagle's head. And he did naught but cower
And yield his body to the victor's power.
  Terrors be these for me to look upon,
For you to hear. Howbeit, be sure, my son,
Victorious, shall be alway among men                                   [212-225]
A wonder; if he fail . . . Nay, even then,
Once saved, he abideth no man's reckoning,
But reigneth still unchallenged, Persia's King.

                                   LEADER.

O Mother of the Land, we fain would neither turn thee to despair,
Nor yet embolden overmuch. Go thou and seek the gods in prayer:
Is aught among thy dreams amiss, beseech that it be turned to naught;
Is aught good, to thy house and thee be it to blessed fullness brought,
Yea, and to all the land and all who love us. Next, drink offerings pour
To great Earth and her buried dead; but chiefly with thy love implore
Thy lord Darius--sayest thou not himself was with thee yester night?--
To send for thee and for his son good things from darkness up to light;
Whate'er is other, let Earth hold it down, let Darkness make it blind!
No prophet I; only in love I speak, with seercraft of the mind,
Thy dream so reading that, whate'er it bode, the end may griefless be.

                                   ATOSSA.                             [226-235]

So be it! First reader of my dreams, a loving seer I find in thee;
And strong thy word of omen hast thou made, for me and for my sons.
That which is good may Heaven fulfil! These issues, as thy counsel runs,
I lay upon the gods above and the beloved who lie below;
So saying I go within.--Yet stay. There is a thing I fain would know;
Say where, in all this peopled world, a city men call Athens lies?

                                   LEADER.

Far distant, where our Lord the Sun sinks and his last effulgence dies.

                                   ATOSSA.

And this far western land it is my son so craved to make his prey?

                                   LEADER.

Aye, for if Athens once were his, all Hellas must his word obey.

                                   ATOSSA.

Has Athens then such multitudes, such hosts of mighty men, to lead?

                                   LEADER.                             [236-242]

A faithful army, which of old hath wrought much havoc on the Mede.

                                   ATOSSA.

An army; have they likewise wealth, enough to keep the land from dearth?

                                   LEADER.

A silver fountain-spring is theirs, a secret treasure-house of Earth.

                                   ATOSSA.

What weapon flashes in their hands? Have they the bow that smites afar?

                                   LEADER.

Not so; the spear that stabbeth close, the shield that goes not back in war.

                                   ATOSSA.

What master holds them in the fray, what shepherd's rod to drive the herd?

                                   LEADER.

To no man living are they slaves, nor bow them before no man's word.

                                   ATOSSA.                             [243-254]

Unmastered, how can they endure the onset of an angry foe?

                                   LEADER.

Methinks Darius knoweth, and his great and goodly armies know.

                                   ATOSSA.

Thy words bring evil thoughts to them whose children are beyond the sea.

                                   LEADER.

But stay; methinks thou soon shalt hear the full tale, yea, the certainty.
I see out yonder one that runs as runs the Persian couriers; Oh,
For sure some certain news at last he beareth, be it weal or woe!
                           [_Enter the_ MESSENGER.

                                  MESSENGER.

  O walls of all the East, O towers of might,
  Persia, my home, thou haven of delight,
  How in one blow our garnered bliss is fled,
  All, and the flower of Persia fallen and dead!
  God's mercy, though 'tis bitter to the soul
  To bear ill tidings, I must needs unroll
  The full tale of our sorrow. The whole host                          [255-271]
  Of Barbary, O my countrymen, is lost!

      [_He breaks down in tears, and in the following scene only
           recovers himself for a moment at a time._

                             CHORUS. [_Strophe_ 1

    O pain, burden of pain
      Fierce-hearted, strange:
    Ye Persians, weep amain
      For sorrow, for times that change.

                                  MESSENGER.

  All yonder, all is death. Alone I come
  And beyond hope, to see the light of home.

                          CHORUS. [_Antistrophe_ 1

    This life, 'tis a tale long told
      Long borne; to hear
    A-sudden, being so old,
      Griefs that surpass our fear.

                                  MESSENGER.

  I heard not others' tales. Myself was there
  To read the full-told story of despair.

                             CHORUS. [_Strophe_ 2

    In vain! was it all in vain,
      Those crowding shafts of war
    Flew o'er the Asian main
      To the Hellene's angry shore?

                                  MESSENGER.                           [272-289]

  Crowded with dead men miserably lost
  Is Salamis, and the bay, and all the coast.

                          CHORUS. [_Antistrophe_ 2

    They whom we loved, Ah me,
      Wave-beaten limbs sea-dyed,
    Dead things awash in the sea,
      The long cloaks flapping wide!

                                  MESSENGER.

  Our arrows served us not; the beakd prow
  Shattered our ships, and laid the bowmen low.

                             CHORUS. [_Strophe_ 3

    Woe to the men of war! Uplift your voice
      In bitter weariness, in long lament.
    Shall all that is evil everywhere rejoice?
      Is that great host forespent?

                                  MESSENGER.

  Salamis! Salamis! Oh, name of hate!
  I groan remembering Athens, now too late.

                          CHORUS. [_Antistrophe_ 3

    Hate her, ye men of war! Let her be hated
      For ever. "Athens": see ye forget her not.
    Remember the widows, the childless, the unmated:
      These things hath Athens wrought.

                                   ATOSSA.                             [290-309]

Long have I held my peace, as one struck dumb
With sorrow. When so vast a thing is come
Upon us, who can tell it, or who dare
To ask the story? . . . Yet, since man must bear
What the gods send, be still, thou, and unroll--
Albeit thy tears yet run--thine evil scroll
To the utter end. Say first, who is not slain
Of sceptred kings, and who shall ne'er again
Look on this land, but leave an empty throne?

                                  MESSENGER.

Xerxes himself yet lives, and sees the sun.

                                   ATOSSA.

That word is joy to all my house, a bright
Gleam, as of morning after starless night.

                                  MESSENGER.

But Artembar lies battered--he the chief
Of myriad horse--on the Silenian reef.
The chiliarch Dadokas, in one fell leap,
Tossed by a lance, went headlong to the deep.
On Ajax' rock, wave-beaten, tempest-blown,
Lies Bactria's best and truest, Tenagn.
Lilaios, Arsames, Argestes too,
By that small isle where the wild pigeons flew
Lay, butting in the refluence of the wave                              [310-336]
The hard ground with their foreheads. Arcteus brave,
Who dwelt beside the Nile-spring's furthest marge,
Adeuas, and the wielder of the targe,
Pharnouchos, fell, three from a single barque.
Lordly Metallos, Chryse's myriadarch,
The tangled forest of his beard so red
Hath dyed a costlier crimson; he lies dead.
Ahrab the Mede, and Bactrian Artabas,
Who led three myriad coal-black horse, alas!
Drowning, upon a cruel shore they found
Refuge and perished as they touched the ground.
Amistris and Amphistreus of the dart
Unresting, Ariomardos true of heart--
How Sardis loved him!--Mysian Artames,
And Tharybis, the cleaver of the seas
With five times fifty ships, of Lyrna's race. .
I saw him dead, a man once fair of face,
Alas, in death not happy! And withal
Syennesis, the highest heart of all,
Cilicia's lord, none like him in the fray,
Ringed with dead Greeks, in glory passed away.

                                   ATOSSA.

Alas, thy tale is as a mountain steep
Of grief; yea, shame and lamentation deep
In Persia. But go back, and tell me this.
What were the numbers of the craft of Greece?
How did they dare confront the serried row
Of Persian ships in onset prow to prow?

                                  MESSENGER.                           [337-354]

For multitude, be sure, our eastern men
Had conquered, for the Greeks had squadrons ten,
Thirty in each, with ten select for speed
On special service. Under Xerxes' lead--
I know the numbers--stood a thousand sail,
And separate, of speed incomparable,
Two hundred keels and seven. . Who shall say
We were too weak to face the foe that day?
But some dark daemon, with no poisd scale,
Down weighed us, and made strength of no avail.
Those gods protect their own Athna's land.

                                   ATOSSA.

How so? Does Athens yet unbroken stand?

                                  MESSENGER.

While her men live, she hath a breechless wall.

                                   ATOSSA.

How first began the battle? Tell me all.
Was it the Greek who struck, or did the King,
My son, his great force to the hazard fling?

                                  MESSENGER.

Queen, for the first beginning of these woes,
Some fiend or madman--whence he came, who knows?--
Greek-seeming, from the Athenian ranks drew near                       [355-383]
To Xerxes' self, and whispered in his ear
That, once the veil of hiding night should fall,
The Greeks would wait no more, but one and all
Leap to their oars, and, scattering left and right,
Make off to save their lives in headlong flight.
Xerxes gave ear, and reckoning not the while
Of heaven's malignity or Grecian guile,
His word to all the ship-masters sent round;
Soon as the sun should leave the parchd ground
And darkness take the temples of the sky,
The main fleet in three columns should stand by,
Closing the way to Athens, while the rest
Went round the island, guarding on the west
The narrow ways and races loud with foam.
Else, if the Greeks escaped an evil doom
Finding some secret way of flight, he said,
Each master of a ship would lose his head.
  Such was his word; right full of mirth was he,
So little guessed he what the end should be!
  In order and obedience all the fleet
Supped and prepared; each oarsman took his seat
And nimbly to the rowlock strapped his oar.
Meantime the sunlight melted from the shore
And night drew on, and in their ships arrayed
Each man at arms, each bender of the blade,
Waited. From rank to rank the word was passed
Down the long line, and on they moved at last,
Each to his station. All the long night through
Each captain rowing, rowing, kept his crew;
And night wore on, and never sound nor sight                           [384-414]
From the Greek fleet gave sign of secret flight;
Not till the wild white horses of the morn
Took all the earth with glory; then was borne
A sound across the sea, a voice, a strong
Clamour exultant like a leaping song,
And Echo answering from the island rock
Cried battle. To our men there came a shock
Of fear and hopes undone. No note there rang
Of flight in that high paean that they sang,
Only glad courage, hot to do and dare.
Out burst their trumpets, flaming through the air.
In splashed their foaming oars, and straining stirred
The briny furrows at the helmsman's word,
And all the ships were out and clear to view.
The right wing led the van, in order due,
Behind it the whole fleet, prow after prow.
Then one great shout: "Now, sons of Hellas, now!
Set Hellas free, set free your wives, your homes,
Your gods' high altars and your fathers' tombs.
Now all is on the stake!" At once from us
A storm of Persian voices clamorous
Made answer, but no time was left to speak.
Already ship on ship its brazen beak
Had driven. The first rammer was a Greek,
Which sheared away a great Sidonian's crest;
Then close, one on another, charged the rest.
  At first the long-drawn Persian line was strong
And held; but in those narrows such a throng
Was crowded, ship to ship could bring no aid.
Nay, with their own bronze-fangd beaks they made                      [415-437]
Destruction; a whole length of oars one beak
Would shatter; and with purposed art the Greek
Ringed us outside, and pressed, and struck; and we--
Our oarless hulls went over, till the sea
Could scarce be seen, with wrecks and corpses spread.
The reefs and beaches too were filled with dead,
And every ship in our great fleet away
Rowed in wild flight. And there, through all the bay,
As men kill tunnies crowded on the shore,
Or some great fish, with clubs of broken oar
And spars of wreck, they beat and broke and killed
Our men. With crying all the air was filled,
Out from the narrows to the shoreless main,
Of slain men and men wailing for the slain,
Till the blind veil of night swept all away.
  Not though for ten long days, day after day,
I spoke, could I express that mass of woe.
For never yet--this ye may surely know--
Have on one day so many thousands died.

                                   ATOSSA.

Ah me, a flood of suffering deep and wide
Hath broke on Persia, yea, and all the east.

                                  MESSENGER.

O Queen, all thou hast heard, two-fold increased,
Were not yet all. Such added coils of woe
Befell as twice outbalance those ye know.

                                   ATOSSA.                             [438-458]

What bitterer fortune can there be? But tell
Thy tidings to the last. What thing befell
Darkening our skies to this still deadlier storm?

                                  MESSENGER.

The chosen of the host, of goodliest form,
Of noblest lineage, of most valiant sword,
And truest heart at the King's counsel board,
Are dead, unpitied and unhonoured, all.

                                   ATOSSA.

O ye who love me, 'tis an evil fall.
But tell thy tale. By what fate perished these?

                                  MESSENGER.

An isle there is, in Salaminian seas,
Small, of ill anchorage, where none may dwell
Save Pan the dancer by the soft sea swell.
Here Xerxes landed them. He hoped that, when
Flung from their broken vessels, shipwrecked men
Made for the island, these might watch, and slay
Our enemies floundering, an easy prey
Amid those briny streams, or save a friend
If any came. Ill he foresaw the end!
  Soon as God gave them victory on the sea,
The Greeks, ere fall of eve, their panoply
Of bronzen arms did on, and leaping out,
Landed and ringed that island all about.
Our men had no escape. From left and right                             [459-481]
Stones hand-flung battered them, and flight on flight
Of arrows from the bow-string raining slew.
Then in one rush they charged, and overthrew
Our lines and hacked and butchered, till no more
Breathed any life of man upon that shore.
And Xerxes groaned, looking upon that deep
Of misery. For a throne he had, a steep
And towering crest, hard by the open sea,
Commanding all the field. Yea, bitterly
His voice he lifted up, his robes he rent,
And order swift to the land army sent,
Then headlong turned and fled. Weep then, for more
Affliction, beside that I told before.

                                   ATOSSA.

O Doom of Wrath, how hast thou made untrue
The hope of Persia! Long my son shall rue
His vengeance on great Athens. . . . Had the plain
Of Marathon not enough of Persian slain?
For whom he needs must seek revenge, and lo,
Heaps on his head this magnitude of woe.
  But speak, the ships that 'scaped that evil day,
Where dids't thou leave them? Hast thou power to say?

                                  MESSENGER.

The galleys that escaped, discomfited,
Blindly before the wind to refuge fled.
Meantime the army: on Boeotian ground                                  [482-507]
One part was left, and thirsted, crowding round
Some little well, or empty, labouring
For breath, went searching for some water spring.
  The rest of us, retreating, made our way
Through Phocis, Locris, and the Melian bay,
Where old Spercheios, streaming through the flat,
Brought us his blessed water. After that
Food failed, as through the Achaean vale we fled,
And walld Thessaly. 'Twas there the dead
Fell thickest, some from hunger, some from thirst.
The two were there together. Then we burst
Through to Magnesia and the mountain coast
Of Macedon. By Axios' ford we crossed,
Passed the marsh reeds of Bolbe and the cold
Ridge of Pangaion, that the Edonians hold.
That night God sent a storm, and winter came
Out of all season and froze hard the stream
Of holy Strymon. Many a man, who ne'er
Had recked at all before of god or prayer,
Then lifted up his voice and bowed his knee
To Earth and Heaven. Aye, long and earnestly
They prayed, and then across the ice-bound flood
Set forth. And verily their luck was good
Who crossed before the light of morning came.
For soon a bright round sun, with rays like flame,
Spread heat, and midway pierced the ice beneath.
In crowds, one on another, down to death
They fell; and him I hold the happiest
Whose life-breath soonest failed him. For the rest,
Escaped beyond the river, day by day,                                  [508-529]
With toil and sweat through Thrace they forced their way,
And now, a scant and scattered band, return
To the old land where still our hearth-fires burn.
  Well may this realm of Persia weep in ruth
For those her best-beloved, her people's youth.
All I have told is true, but much unsaid
Remains that God hath hurled on Persia's head.

                                   LEADER.

O Fortune hard to fathom, how on all
That Persia loved thy heavy hand doth fall!

                                   ATOSSA.

Woe for a mighty army sunk so deep!
Thou vision of my phantom-haunted sleep
Most clear thou didst foretell some evil thing!
And all too light was your interpreting.
  Howbeit, as thou hast counselled, first will I
Give prayer and worship to the gods on high,
And then to Earth and the Departed bring
Out of my stores a rich drink-offering--
Too late, I know, when that 'gainst which I pray
Is past; yet something peradventure may
Be left, which prayer can mend. Therefore do you
With others of true heart take counsel true
To meet our land's affliction. And my son--
If he should here return while I am gone,
Comfort ye him, and guide him to the door,                             [530-557]
Lest to these griefs he add yet one grief more.
        [_Exit_ ATOSSA, _with retinue, into the Palace_.

                                   LEADER.

  O Zeus, how hast thou, then, cast down
    All Persia's host, the great, the proud,
    And buried in a weeping cloud
  Agbatana's and Susa's town!
  Now many a silken veil shall fall
    Torn by soft hands, and many a breast
    Be wet with tears through veil and vest
  For grief that is the grief of all.
  And many a gentle Persian bride
    Is yearning for her lord new-wed,
    The tender arms, the silken bed,
  Youth and its joyance and its pride.
  They weep, they weep, unsatisfied;
  And shall not we, the old men, shed
  Tears of remembrance for the dead?

                             CHORUS. [_Strophe_ 1

 --Now riseth up on either hand
   A groan from Persia's empty land:
       Xerxes hath led, Ah, woe is me!
       Xerxes hath lost, Ah, misery!
 Xerxes hath wrought his evil thought
   With galleys on the waste of sea.
   And where wast thou, the Untouched of Woe,
   Darius of the conquering Bow,
   Our Lord, our loved one, long ago?


                                  [_Antistrophe_ 1                     [558-570]
--Landsmen and seamen, there they lie:
  O sweeping wing, O darkling eye,
      Of ships that led, Ah, woe is me!
      Of ships that lost, Ah, misery!
They sank below the beakd blow
  And Ywn smote them down to die;
  And now along the uncomforted
  And angry tracks of Thrace, they said,
  With followers few, the King is fled.

                                      [_Strophe_ 2
  --But some, by an earlier doom
        Snared to die,
    Ah me, where the billows lash
    The crags that are Cychreus' Tomb,
    Lie weltering. Wail and gnash
    Your teeth! Uplift your cry
    As a dark cloud in the sky!
        Let your voice drain
    Its last wild note from pain.

                                  [_Antistrophe_ 2
    They are torn by the awful sea;
        They are gnawed, Woe's me,
    By the voiceless tribes that creep
    From the womb of the virgin deep:
    And the desolate houses weep
    "We are old, we are childless": High                               [580-601]
    It is lifted; it fills the sky.
        Do these not know
    The extreme depth of woe?

                                      [_Strophe_ 3
  --No more o'er the Orient nations
        The Law of the Persian hath sway.
    No more do they bring supplications
        And tribute to Him they Obey,
    Nor bow them in worship and cower
    On the earth; for the Great King's power
        Is fallen away.

                                  [_Antistrophe_ 3
    The tongue of mankind is no longer
        In prison; the yoke is undone
    Of greatness; a voice riseth stronger
        From people whose freedom is won.
    The blood-soaked wave-lashed Isle
    Of Ajax hath wrecked by guile
        Persia's great throne.
      [_Re-enter_ ATOSSA _with only two attendants_.

                                   ATOSSA.

He who hath walked the hard ways of the world
Well knoweth how, when once the storm is hurled
Upon him, man sees terrors everywhere,
Even as before, when fate was flowing fair,
He deemed for ever the same wind would blow.                           [602-627]
Where'er I turn my world is full of woe.
Against mine eyes shapes of God's anger stare,
And in mine ears ring voices of despair,
Such depth of fear hath cast all reason out.
Therefore without my chariots, and without
The pride I came with, from the house I bring
To my son's sire in peace this offering,
Meet to appease the dim hearts of the dead:
White milk and sweet from kine unblemishd,
Pale honey that the blossom-thieves distil;
With water blended from a virgin rill;
And here, true offspring of a mother wild,
An ancient vine's bright essence undefiled;
And she whose leaves make spring of all the year,
The olive, lo, her fragrant fruit is here,
And Earth's fair children, flowers, engarlanded.
  Friends, with such song as worship of the dead
Beseems, make music, calling from his grave
Darius, the Great Spirit, to rise and save,
While I, the Queen, in due procession go
With draughts earth-slaking to the Gods below.
    [ATOSSA, _with her Attendants, offers prayers and libations
        at the_ TOMB.

                                   LEADER.

    O Queen, of Persia worshippd,
      Through earth's deep veins thine offerings send
    While we to Them that guide the Dead
      Make song to hear us and befriend.
    Ye holy Rulers of the Night,                                       [628-651]
      Hermes and Earth, and King dark-browed,
      Help now and hinder not the proud
    Spirit up-striving to the light;
      Some secret comfort he may know,
      He only, that would heal our woe.

                              CHORUS. [_Strophe_ 1

    Doth he hearken, he in glory,
      The great King who is as god,
    To a choked voice, a dumb story
      In words strange yet understood?
    Shall my sorrow force its way until he hear me
      From his realm beneath the sod?

                                  [_Antistrophe_ 1
    O ye Lords of the Departed
      And thou Earth, ye shall not stay
    In his goings the proud-hearted
      Spirit, Persia's god alway,
    Such an one as never yet--O guide him to us!--
      In the soil of Persia lay.

                                      [_Strophe_ 2
As ye loved him, love his grave-mound, where the old kind thoughts abide,
Adneus, thou Upraiser, Adneus, be his guide,
  Where a King stalketh lonely to the light.
          Drysha!

                                  [_Antistrophe_ 2                     [652-675]
In the madness of lost battles never wasted he our youth;
They had named him "God in Counsel," and God counselled him in truth,
  For his hand upon the helm steered aright.
          Drysha!

                                      [_Strophe_ 3
O our Ba'al, ancient Ba'al, be thou near!
On the crest of this thy grave-mound, Oh, appear!
Let the crocus-golden sandal give a sign;
Let the High King's tiara rise and shine;
Thou our Father, thou undarkened, hear, Oh hear!
          Ba'alnu!

                                  [_Antistrophe_ 3
A thing meet for lamentation and strange woe,
O thou Master of our Masters, hear and know;
For a darkness as of death is overhead,
And the youth of all our people lieth dead,
Thou our Father, thou undarkened, far below.
          Ba'alnu!

    --Long dead, long wept for, why
        Why hath this been,
      King, King, to whom we cry,
        This thing unknown before,

[676-696]

This two-fold monstrous weeping wage of sin?
  A dead land, and at sea
The ships, the three-bank oard ships, Ah me!
  Oard no more, no more.
          Drysha! Ba'alnu!

    [_The Ghost of_ DARIUS _rises slowly from out his Tomb. The_ ELDERS
        _prostrate themselves before him_.

                                   DARIUS.

O ye among the true supreme in truth,
Elders of Persia, comrades of my youth,
What ails my land? Why groans she thus forlorn,
Her brow sore bruisd and her body torn?
To see my wife but now beside my grave
I trembled, nor refused the gifts she gave.
And now ye too in grief, on either hand,
With necromantic lamentation stand,
Crying for help. Hard is the road I tread;
Hard every way, and They that hold the dead
Have swifter hands to grasp than to let go.
Yet, seeing I have some power among them, lo,
I am here. But haste. I may not linger late.
What strange affliction boweth down my state?

                                   CHORUS.

      Oh, we fear to meet thine eye,
      And we fear to make reply,
    For the awe that was about thee from of old.

                                   DARIUS.                             [697-709]

'Twas but in answer to your call I clove the darkness and am here.
What would ye with me? Waste me not this little hour with words of fear,
But, showing plain what need thou hast, speak on and that old awe forget.

                                   CHORUS.

          Oh, we fear to see thy face,
          And we dare not grant thy grace,
      With a tale too bitter to be told.

                                   DARIUS.

So be it. Since that ancient awe beneath your bosoms lingereth yet,
Thou, agd partner of my bed, thou, Queen of royal lineage, cease
From lamentation. Let me hear these tidings clearly and in peace.
Affliction is man's lot, and needs must come to things of mortal birth.
Evils abundant from the seas are born, and evils from the earth,
To fall upon mankind, as life draws onward in its lengthening span.

                                   ATOSSA.

O thou exalted on a throne more than the thrones of mortal man,
In life all Persia held thee blest, a sunlit life of happy breath,     [710-720]
And now, to have died ere eyes have seen our fall, I hold thee blest in death.
Darius, but a little time sufficeth to make all things known.
Let the dread word be spoken. All our power is wrecked and overthrown.

                                   DARIUS.

How wrecked? Came there some pestilence from heaven? Or treason in the state?

                                   ATOSSA.

Not so, O King. Our army round the shores of Athens met its fate.

                                   DARIUS.

Athens? And who among my sons hath marched the Persian armies there?

                                   ATOSSA.

The fiery Xerxes. For that march he swept the plains of Asia bare.

                                   DARIUS.

How went he forth, by land or sea--unhappy--on a quest so vain?

                                   ATOSSA.

By land and sea at once he moved, a two-fold front and armies twain.

                                   DARIUS.                             [721-728]

So vast an army, and on foot! How could they cross the narrow sea?

                                   ATOSSA.

On Hell's flood his engines laid a yoke, to make the passage free.

                                   DARIUS.

And this he wrought! With prison bars he curbed the living Bosphorus?

                                   ATOSSA.

'Tis so. Methinks there wrought with him some daemon that he ventured thus.

                                   DARIUS.

Surely, some daemon great in power to shed such darkness o'er his thought!

                                   ATOSSA.

Till now all men may see the end, and know what issue he hath wrought.

                                   DARIUS.

What stroke then hath befallen, that thus ye wail as for a nation lost?

                                   ATOSSA.

The ships defeated fled, and brought destruction on the land-borne host.

                                   DARIUS.                             [729-736]

Is all the strength of Persia, all alike, so wasted by the spear?

                                   ATOSSA.

These empty streets of Susa town weep for the men that are not here.

                                   DARIUS.

Alas, ye gods! The faithful band, the help of all in need, undone!

                                   ATOSSA.

And Bactria's armies utterly are perished; none remaineth, none!

                                   DARIUS.

Unhappy son, the youth, the flower of Persia's warriors cast away!

                                   ATOSSA.

And Xerxes, with a faithful few, deserted and alone, they say. . . .

                                   DARIUS.

Came to what end at last, and where? Speak out. Is anything not lost?

                                   ATOSSA.

Came, thanking God, back to the bridge whereby from world to world he crossed.

                                   DARIUS.                             [737-749]

And stands again on Persian soil in safety? This is very sooth?

                                   ATOSSA.

It is. 'Mid many rumours this prevaileth. None denies its truth.

                                   DARIUS.

I see all; 'tis the end foretold. How swift the oracle hath sped!
The word of Zeus, I knew, must be fulfilled; and lo, on Xerxes' head
It falleth. I had looked for this not until many years were gone,
But when man hasteth of himself toward sorrow, God will help him on.
Here is a spring of evils burst on us and ours, which all might know
Save him who, understanding not, in his hot youth, hath made it flow.
He thought in fetters, like a slave, the holy Hellespont to bind,
And Bosphorus, the stream of God, refashion to his mortal mind.
With hammered bonds of iron he wrought for a great host a far-flung road,
And, not in wisdom, dreamed a dream that man could match himself with God,
Subdue Poseidon! What was this but madness of the soul? I fear         [750-768]
Lest my long garnered treasure fall a prey to the first ravisher.

                                   ATOSSA.

These be the lessons he hath learned, our fiery son, from men of naught,
Who whispered, clinging to his side, how thou with conquering spear hadst
    wrought
Great kingdoms for thy sons, while he, unmanly, never past the gate
Had moved in arms, nor added one new province to thine ancient state.
Heard day by day from evil men, such gibings goaded him to seek
At last some deed of deathless fame, and hurl his armies on the Greek.

                                   DARIUS.

  Therefore is done the deed they lusted for,
  Great and undying, such as ne'er before
  Hath fallen, to lay all Susa desolate,
  Not since God first to man this high estate
  Granted, that o'er all realms of Asia one,
  Bearing the staff of law, should rule alone.
  Mdos was first to guide his multitude;
  A son of Mdos next, whose rule was good,
  For wisdom was the helmsman of his mind.
  Then Cyrus, happiest he of human kind,
  Brought by his rule to all the Faithful peace.                       [769-792]
  Lydia and Phrygia did his realm increase,
  Ywn he drove before him. Yet, I wot,
  Merciful was he, and God loathed him not.
  The fourth to rule the land was Cyrus' son;
  The fifth, false Mardos, shame to the ancient throne
  And soil that bore him; him, with treason true,
  Bold Artaphernes in his castle slew,
  With six good comrades, plighted to the deed.
  And lots were cast, and fell as I had need;
  And many lands with many hosts of war
  I swept withal, but never thus did mar
  My country's fortune. But my son . . . in truth
  A young man's thoughts are but the foam of youth:
  The charge I gave him Xerxes hath forgot.
    O partners of my long life, well ye wot,
  Not all who erst have held this ancient throne
  Such weight of ill have wrought as he alone.

                                   LEADER.

How then, O Lord Darius? Wherein lies
The burden of thy charge? And in what wise
May stricken Persia still her welfare seek?

                                   DARIUS.

No more against the regions of the Greek
Send forth your hosts, whate'er their force and might.
For Earth herself fights with him in his fight.

                                   LEADER.                             [793-812]

The Earth fights with him? How, O Master, say.

                                   DARIUS.

Numbers too great by famine she will slay.

                                   LEADER.

A small and chosen army we can raise.

                                   DARIUS.

Nay, for not even the army that now stays
In Greece, shall e'er again this country see.

                                   LEADER.

How? Is not all the host of Barbary
Returned to Asia safe o'er Hell's strait?

                                   DARIUS.

Few out of many, if God's word of fate
We trust, as knowing sure from days gone by
It falleth not here true and there a lie;
Which thus foretells: By empty hopes made blind
Xerxes a chosen army leaves behind
Where old Aspus, with his rills like rain,
Boeotia's treasure, waters the wide plain.
There doth the crown of suffering yet await
Those godless, those of pride infatuate,
Who made of Greece their prey, nor held it shame
To rob her gods and give her shrines to flame.
Altars lie wrecked, and images of God
O'erthrown, disbased, and down in rubbish trod.
For which dire sin dire suffering now is theirs,                       [813-838]
And direr still shall be; nor yet appears
Dry land beneath the springs: still, still they flow.
An oozing crust Plataea's field shall know
Of mire blood-soaked beneath the Dorian lance;
And piles of dead dumb warning shall advance
Even to our children's children, that the eye
Of mortal man lift not his hopes too high.
Pride in her flower makes full the barren ears
Of At, and no harvest hath but tears.
Ye, therefore, having seen these deeds this way
To judgment brought, remember Athens! Yea,
Remember Hellas! Nor let any man,
Scorning the lot wherewith his life began,
For lust of what he hath not, wreck his bliss.
Zeus sitteth Judge above us. His it is
To check the uncurbd dreams of man, and weight
Is in his arm to bend the crooked straight.
  Therefore do ye, being warned of God to move
In wisdom's way, advise my son, and prove
With grave admonishment, that he may still
The voice of pride, nor war against God's will.
  And thou, mine agd and belovd, thou
Mother of Xerxes, to thy chambers now
Returning, seek such raiment as is meet
For princes, and go forth therewith to greet
Thy son. There be but tatters round his bare
Breast, of the raiment rent in his despair.
Go, comfort him. From none but thee, be sure,
Counsel or comfort will his heart endure.
  I to the dark once more shall tread my path;                         [839-863]
And ye, old friends, even in this hour of wrath
Grant your soul day by day what she may crave
Of joy. Man takes no riches to the grave.
    [_The Ghost of_ DARIUS _sinks beneath the Tomb_.

                                   LEADER.

'Tis pain to hear the wounds of Barbary,
Many this day, and many yet to be.

                                   ATOSSA.

Thou Evil Doom, in many a stab thy spite
Hath pierced my flesh; but this, methinks, doth bite
Deepest, the shame and loud dishonouring
Of my son's body. Robes meet for a King
Shall wait his coming. Never shall my care
Fail my belovd in his deep despair.
                    [_Exit_ ATOSSA _into the Palace_.

                              CHORUS. [_Strophe_ 1

Golden and great was the life that the Gods let fall to us,
    In King Darius' day;
Griefless, unconquered, divine, he was then all in all to us;
    And the land loved his sway.
Straight in that day were our goings; our armies were glorious;
    Our laws stood firm, like towers;
Unwounded, unwearied, our men came from battle victorious;
    Great peace at home was ours.

                                  [_Antistrophe_ 1                     [864-896]
What far-off peoples he conquered, yet crossed not the Halys,
    Nor stirred from his own place!
The brood of the waters, who walk the Strymonian valleys,
    Heard from the wilds of Thrace;
The turreted steadings, far up from the Lakeland, unbidden
    Bowed to his voice as law;
The proud Hellespontiac cities; Propontis far-hidden;
    The Euxine's iron jaw.

                                      [_Strophe_ 2
Far reacheth the horn of the sea, but the wave-lashed islands,
    Close to our shores that ride,
  Lesbos and olive-rich Samos obeyed his hand,
  Myconos, Chios and Paros and Naxos and
    Tnos at Andros' side.

                                  [_Antistrophe_ 2
And them in the clasp of the deep, the mid-main highlands
    Of Lemnos, he made strong;
  Rhodos and Cnidos and Icaros' isle were his,
  Cyprian Paphos and Soli and Salamis--
    Whose Mother wrought this wrong!
In the portion of Ywn full many a rich Greek town                    [897-924]
  His wise thought held in fee;
Strength unfailing was ever between his hands,
His mail-clad armies, his aids from a myriad lands.
O Reversal of God, we are broken, we lie cast down,
  Scourged by the conquering sea.
                                  [_Enter_ XERXES.

                                   XERXES.

      And am I fallen, O woe is me,
      In this dark coil of misery,
          Pathless? O Fate,
      How hast thou trod beneath thy hate
      The neck of Persia's chivalry!
      What cometh yet of grief to bear?
      My limbs are melted under me.
      O Father Zeus, when I behold
      This remnant of my people there,
          So few, so old,
      May the great darkness veil my head
      With them that battled and are dead!

                                   CHORUS.

  --Cry, cry, O King, for the valiant host,
    For the Persian Law and its glory great,
    For the beauty of men, the pride, the state,
      Cut down and lost!

  --The land doth groan for her youth, her own,
    The youth of the land whom Xerxes led,
    Crowder of Hades with Persian dead!
      They are gone, they are gone,                                    [925-947]
    The men very many, the bowmen strong,
    The flower of the land, a myriad throng.

  --For the brave, for the true, woe's me, woe's me!
    The land of thy birth, O Lord of the Earth,
    Forlorn, forlorn, is fallen to her knee.

                            XERXES. [_Strophe_ 1

    Yea, look upon my face, and cry
    Your fill. A thing of shame am I,
    A thing born to bring misery
    To land and house that cherished me.

                                   CHORUS.

I waft thee on the wind--let it comfort thy return--
A voice of lost hope, a remembering of fears;
As the dark Mariandynian uplifteth him to mourn,
A loud lamentation, that struggleth with tears.

                          XERXES. [_Antistrophe_ 1

      Cry out, and falter not, though weak
      With weeping, struggling yet to speak.
      All that ye feared might come to be
      Hath come, hath turned and fallen on me.

                                   CHORUS.

Yea, all will I speak, till the whole tale be said,
The suffering of man, the smiting of the sea,
The burden of a land whose sons lie dead:
I will cry, cry my sorrow till the tears run free.

                            XERXES. [_Strophe_ 2                       [948-970]

        Ywn hath ta'en them
        Ywn embattled,
        In conquering galleys
        In ship-walld war;
    When he clove the dark of the waters
        And the desolate shore.

                                   CHORUS.

--Woe, woe! Cry on till he tell thee all!
--Where be the rest, thy friends withal,
  The band who fought at the Great King's side?
  Where Pharandkes, and more beside,
  Sousas, Pelagon, Psammis, Datamas,
  And Sousiskn and Agabatas,
        Agabatana's pride?

                          XERXES. [_Antistrophe_ 2

          I left them dying;
          Fallen I left them
          From a Tyrian galley,
          Fallen and lost;
    By the headlands of Salamis, battered
          On the rock-riven coast.

                                   CHORUS.

--Why is Pharnouchos not with thee?
--And Ariomardos, where is he?
  Where is the Lord Seualkes gone?
  Lilaios where, the faithful son?
  Memphis, Tharybis and Msistras,                                     [971-991]
  And Artembar and Hystaichmas?
        I ask these things.

                            XERXES. [_Strophe_ 3

          They looked upon Athens
          The ancient, the loathd,
          And in one fell music
            They went to their death,
          On the hard land writhing,
            Gasping for breath.

                                   CHORUS.

  Does he too in that ruin lie
  Whom Persia knew for thine own Eye
  Most faithful, Batanchos' son,
  Counter of myriad myriads, known
  And marshalled? Is Alpistos there
  And Megabtes, Ssames,
  And Parthos and Oibres? Where
  Hast left them?--Left them, and they died
  Held by the foe! We ask for these.
  Wound beyond wound to Persia's pride!

                          XERXES. [_Antistrophe_ 3

    Thou wakest my heart's love
    For the true companions
    With thy tale unforgotten,
        Ill on ill, without rest.
    The heart crieth, crieth,
        From the dark of my breast.

                                   CHORUS.                            [992-1013]

        Others we seek, and more again:
        The myriadarch of Mardian men,
        Xanths, the Arians' lord, Anchar;
            More, more there are;
        Diaixis, aye, and Arsakas,
        Captains of horse, they are not here!
        Lythimnas tall, and Dadakas,
        And Tolmos of the tireless spear.
'Tis strange, 'tis strange! Not round thy silken-lined
Wheel-tent they stand; they follow not behind.

                       XERXES AND CHORUS. [_Strophe_ 4

XE.     Lost, they are lost,
        They that were leaders of the host.
CH.     Lost, alas, without a name!
XE.       Woe's me, woe's me!
CH.     Ye gods, how have ye wrought a shame
        We dreamed not of; her image there
        Glares as the eyes of At glare.

XE.     Down cast, down cast,     [_Antistrophe_ 4
        Yea, while the span of life shall last!
CH.     Down to the earth! Is this not plain?
XE.       New woe, new woe!
CH.     With sons of Ywn on the main
        We met, we fought, we fled afar.
        Alas, the Persian loves not war!

                                      [_Strophe_ 5                   [1014-1037]
XE.     Down cast indeed; and my great host
        About me lost!--CH. What is not lost
        That once was ours, O Thou that hast
          Led all astray?
XE.     This that thou see'st of mine array.
CH.       I see, I see.
XE.     This holder of the shafts that slay.
CH.     A quiver . . . this our only stay?
XE.     Empty of arrows! Woe is me.
CH.     Little is here.
XE.       No helpers near.
CH.     Is Ywn one that flieth from the spear?

                                  [_Antistrophe_ 5
XE.     Nay, all too valiant. I behold
        A grief unlooked for.--CH. Thou hast told
        Of bulwarked Persians backward rolled
          Seeking to flee.
XE.     'Twas that I rent my robe to see.
CH.       Ah, well-a-day!
XE.     And more than that of misery!
CH.     Two-fold and three-fold grievous day!
XE.     And joyous to our enemy!
CH.     Our strength undone.
XE.       My state swept bare.
CH.     Our friends deep-sunken in the sea's despair.

                                      [_Strophe_ 6                   [1038-1059]
XE.     Wet ye our wounds with tears, and homeward go.
CH.       Brought low, brought low!
XE.     Cry as I cry, and beat your bosoms so.
CH.       Grievous gift from woe to woe!
XE.     Make music with me.--CH. Burdens here
        And burdens yonder, tear on tear!

                                  [_Antistrophe_ 6
XE.     Lift arms, lift arms, and sorrow as I say.
CH.       Ah, well-a-day.
XE.     Cry as I cry, and beat your breast this way.
CH.       Lord, to hear is to obey.
XE.     Lift up your voices.--CH. Even so,
        Timed with a black and sobbing blow.

                                      [_Strophe_ 7
XE.     Now beat your breast, and raise a Mysian song.
CH.       Ah, misery!
XE.     Tear me your beard's old honour, white and long.
CH.     'Tis torn, 'tis torn right grievously.
XE.     And cry, yea, cry!--CH. That will I do for thee.

                                  [_Antistrophe_ 7                   [1060-1076]
XE.     With blade-like hands thy bosom's raiment tear.
CH.       Ah, misery.
XE.     Think of our soldiers slain, and rend thy hair.
CH.       'Tis torn, 'tis torn right grievously.
XE.     Make wet thine eyes.--CH. Through tears I cannot see.

XE.     Each make answer as he hears.
CH.       Woe, ah woe!
XE.     Then back into the house with tears.
CH.     O soil of Persia, hard to tread!
XE.     Wailing through the city go.
CH.     Through the long streets, even so.
XE.     O ye that walked so softly, raise your head,
          Let your grief roam.
CH.     O soil of Persia, thou art hard to tread!
XE.     O trireme ships, O shoals of Persian dead!
CH.     With sobs that scarce find voice I lead thee home.

    [_The whole procession has now disappeared into the Palace._




                                NOTES


The ancient Argument tells us that THE PERSIANS was considered to be
modelled upon Phrynichus' _Phoenissae_ (_Women of Sidon_), and that it
was produced in the Archonship of Menon (473-472 B.C.). Since the civil
year was calculated from summer to summer, and the Great Dionysia took
place in the spring, it follows that THE PERSIANS was performed in the
spring of 472. It was part of a tetralogy: _Phineus_, _Persae_, _Glaucus
Potnieus_, and _Prometheus_. This last was not our _Prometheus_ but a
satyr-play called _Prometheus the Fire-kindler_, in which, we are told,
a Satyr, seeing fire for the first time and fascinated by its beauty,
tried to kiss it and burnt his beard. Of the other plays little is
known.

We happen also to have a fragmentary inscription giving lists of the
theatrical productions of the time, in which the extract for Menon's
year runs: "_Tragedies, Pericles of Cholarg chorgus. Aeschylus
composer._" We know therefore that the great Pericles was the Chorgus
for THE PERSIANS, that is, he bore the expense and provided the
costumes, etc. (See Wilhelm's _Urkunden_, p. 18.)

The historical background of THE PERSIANS may be illustrated by a famous
passage in _Herodotus_ (VII, 140 ff. abbreviated). "Here I am compelled
to express an opinion which will offend most people. I cannot refrain
from saying what I believe to be the truth. If the Athenians, in fear of
the approaching peril, had deserted their country, or short of that, had
stayed and given themselves up to Xerxes, there would have been no
attempt to resist the King by sea." . . . (And he could not have been
resisted by land, whatever heroism the Spartans might have shown.) "The
truth is, the Athenians were the saviours of Hellas. It was they who
inspired the rest of Greece to fight, and, next to the Gods, it was they
who repulsed the King. The fearful oracles which came from Delphi and
spread terror far and wide never succeeded in inducing them to desert
Hellas; they stayed and faced the invader.

"They had sent ministers to Delphi and were preparing to consult the
oracle, but just as they had entered the sanctuary and sat waiting, the
Pythia, whose name was Aristonk, uttered this prophecy:

  Wretches, why sit ye so still? Begone to the ends
      of the earth,
  From the heights of your ring-walled City begone,
      from the home of your birth;
  For neither the head of her now nor the body abides
      as before,
  Nor ends of the feet nor the hands; nor flesh of the
      trunk any more
  Remaineth, nay, all is destroyed. Red fire and Ares
      in wrath
  Breaketh her down to the dust in his Syrian chariot's
      path.
  Nor wrecketh he Athens alone, but many strong
      cities the same
  Shall suffer, and temples of Gods very many be
      given to flame:
  I see them stand even now, the walls with sweat
      running down;
  And shaking with fear are the pillars thereof;
      and over the crown
  Floweth a blackness of blood, for the evil of fate
      they foresee.
  Up, get ye gone from my shrine, and brood on the
      evils to be.

"The Ministers were greatly distressed, but in their despair there came
to them a Delphian of the highest reputation, Timon, son of Androblus,
and advised them to take a suppliant bough and visit the oracle again,
appealing as suppliants. The Athenians did as he advised, and said:
'Lord, we pray thee to have mercy on these suppliant boughs, and give us
some better oracle about our fatherland. Else we will never leave this
shrine, but stay where we are until we die.' The prophetess then gave
them a second answer:

  Pallas hath prayed the All-Father for mercy, but
      prayeth in vain,
  Urging him long with the words of her lips, the
      thought of her brain.
  Only one word will I speak; it is iron: it yields not
      at all.
  When all things else in the land by the foe are taken
      and fall,
  From haunted Kithairon's steep to Cecrops' boundary
      stone,
  To Tritogeneia is granted a Bulwark of Wood,
      which alone
  Unbroken for ever shall stand, and save thy children
      and thee.
  The horse and the foot are upon thee: await them
      not. Armies I see
  Very great from the plains of the East. Give way
      and seek refuge apace,
  Turning thy back to him now; thou shalt look him
      again in the face.
  O Salamis holy, for thee shall the sons of woman
      be slain,
  Belike when they gather the harvest, belike when
      they scatter the grain."

This second oracle was duly written down and brought back to Athens.
There remained the question of its interpretation. Was the "Bulwark of
Wood" the old wooden fence round the Acropolis; or again did it mean the
ships? But if the ships, why the prophecy of disaster at Salamis? "Now
there was in Athens a man who had recently come to the front, by name
Themistocles and son of Neocles. This man argued that the prophets had
not interpreted the whole of the oracle aright. If the line had really
referred to the Athenians it would not have been phrased so mildly. It
would have been 'O Salamis cruel,' not 'O Salamis holy,' if she were to
be the death of her own people. Rightly understood, the God must have
referred to the enemy, not to the Athenians. So he urged them to prepare
for a war by sea; that was their 'bulwark of wood.'" (_Herodotus_ VII,
140 ff.)

P. 19, ll. 1-2. "Trust":] The Council of Elders were "The King's Trust,"
as certain officials were The King's Eye, (below l. 980) or the King's
Ears.

P. 19, l. 14. Royal Post:] An organized postal service throughout the
Persian Empire had been established by Darius (_Herodotus_ VIII, 98). It
is one of the features which illustrate the great superiority of the
Persians to the Greeks in material civilization.

P. 20, l. 16. Agbatana:] (Hangmatna) the capital of Media; Susa
(Shushan, "lily"), capital of Persia.

P. 20, ll. 21 ff. Amistras, Artaphernes, etc.:] Aeschylus makes great
play with these grand Persian names. He cites 55 names, all
superficially Hellenized. A few seem neither Persian nor Greek (Memphis,
Syennesis, Psammis?); a few have been given a completely Greek form
(Tolmos, Pelagon) while 42 seem genuine Persian. Aeschylus must have had
access to some genuine "army list" or information from prisoners. Like
Herodotus, he is impressed by the great variety of nations under
Xerxes' rule, from the highly armed Persians and Medes to Ethiopians
with painted bodies and stone-headed arrows and Libyans with spears
headless but hardened in the fire. (_Herodotus_ VII, 61-80.)

P. 22, l. 65. This ode is in the Ionic metre, which is often used in
tragedy to produce an Asiatic atmosphere, for example in the
_Prometheus_ and the _Bacchae_. The base is a four-syllable foot, two
short followed by two long ("In the last hour | of the forenoon"), with
a common variation, transposing the last long of the first foot with the
first short of the second, which makes a more trochaic effect. ("On a
misty moisty forenoon.") The last syllable can be dropped.

P. 22, l. 67. A causeway flax-enwoven:] Xerxes' two bridges of boats
over the Hellespont made on the popular mind of Greece an impression of
inordinate power and arrogance amounting to impiety. (Below, p. 54, ll.
722 ff.) Yet the bridge was made, or at any rate re-made after its
destruction, by a Greek engineer, Harpalus. Probably Greece had the
engineering skill, but not the capital, necessary for such enterprises.
The canal through the Isthmus separating Mt. Athos from the land was an
even greater "impiety," but is not mentioned by Aeschylus.

P. 23, l. 108, We have turned us to the sea:] This is felt to be the
fatal mistake. See p. 46, l. 560, p. 63, l. 906.

P. 25, l. 135, Delicately proud:] The average Greek admired, while he
half despised, the superior refinement and luxury of the Persian
civilization. He felt as the Swiss towards the Burgundians, or the Boers
towards the British.

P. 25, l. 147, Bow . . . or iron spear-head:] The Persian infantry used
bows and wicker shields, making an elastic front quick to advance or
retire. The Greeks put their faith in their heavy-armed infantry
(_hopltae_), armed with spear and shield for close fighting, and
admitted a certain prejudice against the archer as a man who did not
stand his ground. The Athenians had, as a matter of fact, a very good
force of archers.

P. 25, l. 151, Mother to the King:] Atossa, daughter of Cyrus and second
wife of Darius Hystaspes, who at this time "held all the power."
(_Herodotus_ VII, 3.)

P. 26, l. 155, The long trochaic metre, like _Locksley Hall_ ("Comfort?
Comfort scorned of devils, this is truth the poet sings") is
characteristic of early tragedy. It produced, we are told, an effect of
speed and excitement, and is used in later tragedy for that purpose
(e.g. _Iphigenia in Tauris_ and _Bacchae_). Curiously enough, the
_Locksley Hall_ metre has with us a quite different and rather elegiac
effect. To avoid this I have added a syllable in front.

P. 26, l. 157, A God of Persia:] Apparently one of Aeschylus' mistakes.
The Kings of Egypt and probably most Asiatic Kings were regarded by
their peoples as Gods. It was chiefly the Oriental influence which
induced the Roman Emperors to accept divine honours. The Great King may
well have been worshipped as a god by his various pagan subject races,
but certainly not by his own Zoroastrians.

P. 27, l. 178, The name _Persai_ had to the Greeks a peculiarly ominous
signification, as in Greek the word meant "to destroy" and is so used in
this line. Somewhat similarly the fact that the word _rm_ in Greek
means "strength" increased the fear of Rome.

P. 27, l. 180, Atossa's dream:] Compare Io's dreams in the _Prometheus_,
and Clytemnestra's in the _Chophoroe_. Observe that Asia is not
represented as "inferior" or "a lesser breed without the law." The two
continents are sisters, and equally superhuman in beauty.

P. 28, l. 201, In a flowing stream:] The ordinary methods of Greek
superstition after an ominous dream were to wash it away, to show it to
the sun, to take it to the altar of some Averter of Evil, and to seek a
friendly interpreter. The first interpretation had a special
authority--or at least a special effect on the feelings of the dreamer.

P. 29, l. 212, He abideth no man's reckoning:] In the constitutional
states of Greece, of course, an official responsible for such disasters
would be removed from his post and probably impeached.

P. 29, l. 217, Is aught amid thy dreams amiss:] The Leader virtually
says: "I am no expert interpreter of dreams. In yours there are probably
both good and bad elements, so pray the gods to fulfil the first and
annul the second."

P. 30 f., ll. 231 ff., Discussion of Athens. Herodotus tells us (V, 105)
that when the news of the revolt of the Ionians, with Athenian help, was
announced to Darius, "he made no account of the Ionians, knowing that
they would be easily dealt with, but asked who the Athenians were. When
he was informed, he asked for his bow, put an arrow on the string and
shot it up into the sky, saying 'Zeus, that it be given me to punish the
Athenians!' He also charged one of his servants, when dinner was set
before the King, to say three times, 'Master, remember the Athenians.'"

Here, Atossa learns that Athens is very far away; had once defeated a
Persian army, at Marathon; possesses the special resource of a silver
mine, at Laureion; fights hand to hand with the spear. Then comes a
striking point. "If they have no Master over them, surely they will run
away?" The answer is given more fully in _Herodotus_ VII, 104, where
Demartus, the exiled Spartan King, answers Xerxes: "They are free, but
not free in everything. There is a Master over them called Law, whom
they fear more than thy slaves fear thee."

P. 32, l. 247, The Messenger. The man runs like a Persian courier, see
l. 14. He appeals first to the strong defences of Persia, then to the
life of serene happiness within.--Note the simplicity with which
Aeschylus uses his Messenger as contrasted, for instance, with the
artistry of the Messenger's entrance in the _Hippolytus_. Contrast also
the artistry of the next scene, where the Messenger tries to tell his
story but keeps breaking down, while the grief of the Elders finds its
expression in lyrics. The technique of choral lyric was mastered earlier
in Greece than that of drama.

P. 33, l. 269, Shafts of war:] Metaphorical for the men. Note the first
mention of the name Salamis.

P. 34, l. 277, Long cloaks:] So the MSS., but the reading is doubtful.

P. 35, l. 302, Note the gradual recovery of the Messenger. At first he
can hardly speak, only cry brokenly that all is lost. Then in this
speech he gives a list, but still a rather incoherent and exclamatory
list, of all the dead leaders that he can remember--leaders from all
countries, and slain in all kinds of different ways. Later on, at l.
353, he will give a clear and detailed account of the battle, though
there also his story fails when the defeat turns to sheer disaster.

P. 35, l. 303, The Silniai were reefs on the coast of Salamis.

P. 35, l. 309, Where the wild pigeons flew:] Many rocks in the
Mediterranean are haunted by particular kinds of birds and get such
names as Hawks Rock, Pigeon Rock or the like.

P. 37, ll. 337 ff., The numbers. Numbers in military history are
notoriously untrustworthy. No sea power, I believe, has ever had as many
as twelve hundred ships on the Mediterranean; yet Aeschylus goes out of
his way to say "I know the numbers." No doubt he had an official list of
the Greek ships, 300 including ten fast "cruisers." He probably had also
some official Persian list, either a document captured or a statement
drawn up from the examination of prisoners. This was perhaps a list of
the whole naval force available to the Great King, not the particular
force engaged at Salamis. Even so it seems enormous. It has been
suggested that, since the Persian navy had five component fleets, and
the Phoenician fleet, which was the best and most famous, consisted of
200 or 207 ships, the thousand total was reached by assuming that all
the fleets were the same size as the Phoenician. It may be noticed that
Herodotus, in the same way, gives a list of the whole land forces under
the command of the King, and seems to imply that they all took part in
the invasion of Greece. Persia had, of course, large territories to
police and many frontiers to guard. But, when all allowances are made,
the Greeks were fighting against very heavy odds.

P. 37, l. 348, Athens still unbroken:] Athens had been occupied by the
Persians, the Acropolis taken, and all its temples burnt to the ground.
But the Athenians still lived. With their women and children they had
evacuated the city and gone across the strait to Salamis, staking all on
their "wooden walls." See p. 76.

P. 37, l. 354, Some fiend or madman:] His name was Sikinnos; he was
tutor (_paidaggos_) to Themistocles' sons.

P. 38, l. 366, Three columns:] Perhaps the three divisions correspond to
the three channels to be blocked; the first between the mainland and
Psyttaleia, the second between Psyttaleia and Salamis, the third on the
western side of the island between Salamis and the Megarid. The battle
was all in the first two channels.

P. 39, l. 406, A storm of Persian voices:] Obviously a Greek speaking.

P. 40, l. 424, As men kill tunnies:] The shoals of these enormous fish
are driven crowding into inlets of the shore where the water gets
shallower and shallower and the space less; then they are killed with
clubs and harpoons.

P. 41, l. 447, An isle there is:] The small island of Psyttaleia,
between the Attic coast and the long promontory of Salamis now called
Cape Barbara. Aeschylus magnifies rather strangely this sequel to the
great battle. One must remember (1) that the Greeks always attached
special honour to hand-to-hand infantry fighting as against sea-fighting
or mere archery; (2) they set immense store on picked troops. The loss
of 500 true Spartans at Sphacteria brought the Lacedaemonians almost to
their knees. It is possible also that Aeschylus wished to give glory to
Aristdes (see below) as well as to Themistocles.

P. 41, l. 456, Their panoply of bronzen arms:] This body of _hopltae_
(heavy infantry) was led by Aristdes, "the Just," who had returned from
his ostracism just before the battle.

P. 43, ll. 482 ff., The flight. After Salamis Xerxes lost command of the
sea and had difficulties in supplying his land army. One army corps had
to be sent back to secure Ionia; another to guard the communications in
Thrace; the third was left with Mardonius in Boeotia. This description
of a rout in which Xerxes flies with torn garments and empty quiver is
symbolical rather than historical. No doubt Xerxes returned to Persia in
advance of the main armies with a small attendance. The difficulties of
such large forces in obtaining food and drink are hardly exaggerated,
and there is no reason to doubt the incident about the crossing of the
Strymon.

P. 45, l. 555, Untouched of woe:] The reign of Darius seems to the
Elders to have been a sort of Golden Age. In reality, Darius had
suffered a severe defeat in Scythia and was the actual originator of
the expedition against Greece.

P. 47, l. 584, No more o'er the orient nations:] This final strophe and
antistrophe form a change both in metre and feeling from the rest.
Instead of the horror of deaths in the sea we are made to feel the
liberation of the Ionians from Persia. Through the regret of the Elders
one feels the joy of those whose speech is at last "no longer in
prison."

P. 48, l. 611, Atossa's sacrifice to the dead is fireless and bloodless.
Cf. Iphigenia's sacrifice to Orestes, who is supposed to be dead, _Iph.
Taur._ 160 ff. "Unblemished" implies "never put under the yoke."

P. 49, l. 634, Strange yet understood:] Words in the strange language
which Darius understands. Aeschylus contrives to give a curious barbaric
colour to this invocation.

P. 50, l. 658, Ba'alnu:] the word used by Aeschylus is perhaps an
attempt to render some Phoenician form meaning "Our Lord." Similarly
Darina (or Darysha) is not Greek, but doubtless represents some
Asiatic form. The actual Greek words in the text here are made to sound
barbaric, an effect which I have tried to obtain by repetitions.

P. 50, l. 660, "Crocus-golden" was the royal colour: the tiara was a
head-covering of felt, rather like a fez or tarbouche, which the King
alone wore upright. It is sometimes represented as covered with jewels.

P. 50, l. 666, Master of our masters:] Master even of the "King of
Kings."

P. 51, l. 681, Ghost of DARIUS. The Ghost knows nothing of what has
happened on earth since his death, but he does know of an oracle
foretelling in detail certain errors which at some time would be
committed by a Persian King and followed by certain punishments. He sees
from what Atossa tells him that the oracle is being fulfilled.

P. 51, l. 691, I have some power among them:] He is still a King in the
underworld, as Agamemnon is enthroned "beside the Kings of the Dark
Land." (_Cho._ 358.)

P. 54, l. 722, On Helle's flood he laid a yoke:] See p. 78, l. 67.

P. 54, l. 728, The ships defeated . . . brought destruction on the
land-borne host:] This is an exact summary of the military situation. We
do not know whether Susa and Bactria suffered in any special degree.

P. 57, l. 765, Medos:] This elementary sketch of the history of the
Persian Empire is evidently meant for the Athenian audience, not for the
Persian Elders. It shows how little was known of Persia in Aeschylus'
time and what a great advance was made by the writings of Herodotus some
forty years afterwards. Herodotus was born a Persian subject and had
travelled in Persia. "Medos" is merely a personified Media, of the same
type as "Ion" or "Amphictyon." Aeschylus does not know the names of
Cyaxares or Astyages, nor does he seem to realize that Cyrus was an
Elamite who conquered the Median king Astyages.

P. 57, l. 767, For wisdom was the helmsman:] This line suggests that his
name was Artaphrenes (or Artaphernes), a name which would sound to a
Greek like "Right-minded." See below.

P. 58, l. 774, Mardos:] Or rather the impostor who claimed to be Mardos
or Smerdis, brother of Cambyses, and was overthrown by the conspiracy of
the Seven, led by Artaphrenes, or Intaphrenes (Vindafrana), as Herodotus
correctly names him. Smerdis is called Bardija in the great Behistun
inscription, where the whole story is told by Darius himself.

P. 58, l. 792, Earth herself fights with him:] A true judgment; the
Persian forces were too large for the country to support, especially
when they had lost command of the sea.

P. 59, l. 800, Few out of many:] Few of the 60,000 men left with
Mardonius in Boeotia to complete the conquest of Greece. The battle of
Plataea, fought on August 27(?), 479 B.C., clinched the victory of
Salamis by driving the Persians out of the Greek mainland. It was
specially, as Aeschylus generously mentions, a victory of the Spartans.

P. 59, ll. 810 ff., Altars lie wrecked, and images of God O'erthrown,
etc.:] The explanation of these proceedings is to be found in
_Herodotus_ I, 131: "These are the customs which, to my knowledge, the
Persians practise. They do not count it lawful to erect images, temples
and altars, and count it sheer folly to do so. This, I understand, is
because they do not believe in anthropomorphic gods, as the Greeks do."
The Zoroastrian religion condemned idolatry. The impression made by this
iconoclasm, like that of Cromwell's troops in English churches, lasted
long. Alexander when invading the Persian Empire made a point of
treating all sacred objects with respect in order to emphasize the
difference between his conduct and that of Xerxes 250 years before.
(_Polybius_ V, 10.) Line 811 is repeated in _Agamemnon_ 527 to show the
final unforgiveable Hubris of Agamemnon in Troy.

P. 60, ll. 829-836, The reception of Xerxes:] The Elders are to give him
advice and "grave admonishment"; but before that, his mother is to
soothe his despair and bring him suitable garments. Evidently she is
supposed to have done this before his entrance at l. 908. He does not
enter in torn garments and he takes patiently the "admonishments" and
even the sarcasm of the Elders. The empty quiver at ll. 1017 ff. is the
only material sign of his ruin. The breast-beating and tearing of hair
and of raiment (ll. 1054 ff.) are merely symbolic.

(Another possible view is that the lines about Atossa clothing and
comforting her son are an addition; originally he entered in torn
raiment, with dust on his head and an empty quiver, to symbolize his
defeat; the Elders received him with bitter reproaches--as they
certainly do--and tore their hair and garments--as they are said to do.
This would imply that Aeschylus, or some early producer of the play, had
left alternative versions to be used as preferred. Cf. _Eumenides_, ll.
404 ff., where a choice is allowed between two ways of bringing Athena
on to the stage, either driving a chariot or flying through the air on a
_mchan_.)

P. 61, ll. 852 ff., This interesting lyric tells the fall of the Persian
Empire in the Aegean and the foundation of the Athenian. In the Golden
Age of Darius there was "the Law of the Medes and Persians which
altereth not" (Daniel vi. 8), peace at home, victory abroad. Though he
never crossed the Halys, the principal river of Asia Minor, and at one
time the boundary between the Lydian and Persian Empires, he was obeyed
by nations far away: by the Paeonian lake-dwellers in the Strymon valley
and by the other Paeonians who lived higher up in fortified villages; by
the Greek cities of the Hellespont, Propontis and Euxine; by the islands
near the coast and the islands far out to sea, and by the Ionian cities
of Anatolia. Athens never held the valley of the Strymon, but most of
the islands and the Ionian coast were included in the Confederacy which
grew into the Athenian Empire.

The "Mother" or metropolis of these Ionian settlements was, of course,
Athens.

P. 63, l. 914, This remnant of my people:] The Elders themselves.

P. 64, l. 939, The Mariand[^y]ni were a tribe on the Black Sea who bewailed
in the height of summer a young Vegetation God, like Thammuz, Adonis,
Linos, etc., called Bormos. Lamentation in the full sense, including
inarticulate cries, tearing of the cheeks, prepared performances, etc.,
was barbaric, and forbidden in Athens by a law of Solon. In tragedy,
where lamentation formed part of the original ritual, it is generally
treated as a strange exotic performance in the style of some Asiatic
people. Cf. l. 1054, "a Mysian song."

P. 65, l. 955, Cry on, till he tell thee all:] One member of the Chorus
encourages another to demand the full account from Xerxes.

P. 66, ll. 979 f., The "King's Eye" was an official:] see on ll. 1-2.
The army was organized in units of a myriad under a "myriadarch."
Herodotus misunderstands this (VII, 60) but is right in making most of
his calculations by myriads.

P. 67, l. 1001, 'Tis strange:] The Elders pretend to be surprised at not
finding these great officers with the King. "They are not accompanying
his luxurious travelling-carriage; perhaps they are following behind?
No!"--There is the same sarcastic tone in l. 1013, "The Persian loves
not war!" and l. 1025--The Ionian, whom we call timid, is apparently not
so.

P. 70, l. 1072, Ye that walk so softly:] Barefooted peoples think much
about their feet. To "walk delicately" was a sign of luxury: it implied
either soft ground or smooth streets to walk upon, or else the
possession of well-made shoes--both of them aspirations beyond the reach
of the average hardy Greek. The "soft-footed Lydian" (_Herodotus_ I,
55), the Princess in the _Medea_ (1164) and Ganymedes in heaven (_Tro._
821) all "walked delicately."

This lamentation is not only written with great technical skill, but
seems to combine an expression of utter defeat and desolation with a
certain nobleness and dignity. The conquered oppressor is not mocked.




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Transcriber's Notes:-

The line numbers refer to the lines in the original Greek text, not
the lines as translated.

Minor punctuation errors corrected.




[End of The Persians, by Aeschylus,
translated by Gilbert Murray]
