ANTISTROPHE I.Dark-prowed ships that plough wide oceanWith well-poised wings through waves’ commotion,Ships, the countless crews that carried,In briny death ye saw them buried,Where the Ionian beaks were dashing,Where the Persian booms were crashing!And our monarch scarcely scaping,Left with life the deathful fray,Through the plains of Thracia shapingSad his bleak and wintry way.STROPHE II.But the firstlings of our lossesThe Ionian billow tosses,And Cychréan waves are hurried,O’er the stranded dead unburied.Let the sharp grief bite thy marrow,With thy wailing smite the sky!Freely voice thy heaving sorrow,With a weighty burden cry!ANTISTROPHE II.Woe’s me! by the wild waves driven,By the mute sea-monsters riven,n19The untainted ocean’s creaturesBattening on their traceless features!Heirless homes are lorn and lonely,Childless parents weep and wail,Old men weep; with weeping onlyThey receive the woeful tale.STROPHE III.Ah me! even now while we are mourningSome rebel hearts belike are spurningThe Persian rule; some serf refusesThe gold due to his master’s uses.And some are slow with reverence lowTo kiss the ground and adore,For the power that long was fresh and strongIs found no more.ANTISTROPHE III.The tongues of men, free from wise reining,Will now break forth with loud complaining;Unmuzzled now, unyoked, the rabbleWill blaze abroad licentious babble.For the blood-drenched soil of the sea-swept isleIts prey restoreth never.And the thing that hath been henceforth shall be seenNo more for ever.EnterAtossa.Atossa.Good friends, whoso hath knowledge of mishap,Knows this, that men, when swelling ills surge o’er them,Brood o’er the harm till all things catch the hueOf apprehension; but, when Fortune’s streamRuns smooth, the same, with confidence elate,Hope the boon god will blow fair breezes ever.Thus to my soul all things are full of fear,The adverse gods from all sides strike my eye,And in my ear, with ominous-ringing peal,Fate prophesies. Such terror scares my wits.No royal car to-day, no queenly pompIs mine; the broidered stole would ill becomeMy present mission, bringing as thou see’st,These simple offerings to appease the Shades;From the chaste cow, this white and healthful milk,This clearest juice, by the flower-working beeDistilled, this pure wave from the virgin spring,This draught of joyaunce from the unmingled grape,Of a wild mother born; this fragrant fruitOf the pale green olive, ever leafy-fair,n20And these wreathed flowers, of all-producing EarthFair children. But, my dear lov’d friends, I pray you,With pious supplication, now invoke,The god Dariusn21while on the earth I pourThese pure libations to the honour’d dead.Chorus.O queen, much-revered of the Persian nation,To the chambers below pour thou the libation,While we shall uplift the holy hymn,That the gods who reign in the regions dim,May graciously hear when we pray.O holy powers that darkly swayIn the subterranean night,O Earth, and Hermes, and thou who art kingOf the Shades that float on bodiless wing,Send, O send him back to the light!For, if remedy be to our burden of woes,He surely knows.CHORAL HYMN.STROPHE I.And dost thou hear me, blessed Shade, imploringThy aid divine, and freely pouringOf plaintive griefThe various flow?I will cry out, till Persia’s godlike chiefShall hear below.ANTISTROPHE I.O Earth, and ye that rule the shadowy homes,Send from your sunless domesThe mighty godOf Susan birth,Than whom no greater yet was pressed by the sodOf Persian earth.STROPHE II.O dear-loved man! dear tomb! and dearer dustThat in thee lies!O Aïdóneus, thy charge release,n22O stern Aïdóneus, and, in peace,Let king Darius rise!ANTISTROPHE II.He was a king no myriads vast he lostIn wars inglorious.Persia, a counsellor was he,A counsellor of god to thee,He with his hosts victorious.STROPHE III.Come, dread lord!n23Appear! Appear!O’er the sepulchre’s topmost tier;The disc of thy regal tiara showing,n24With thy sandals saffron-glowing,Come, good father Darius, come!ANTISTROPHE III.Fresh and unstaunched woes to hear,Lord of a mighty lord appear!For the clouds of Stygian night o’ercome us,And all our youth are perished from us,Come, good father Darius, come!EPODE.O woe! and woe! and yet againWoe, and misery, and pain!Why should’st thou die, and leave the landThou master of the mighty hand?Why should thy son with foolish ventureShake thy sure Empire to its centre?n25And why must we deploreThe countless triremes on the sea-swept shoreTriremes no more?n26The Shade ofDariusrises from the Tomb.Darius.O faithfullest of my faithful friends, compeersOf my fair youth, elders of Persia, sayWith what sore labour labours now the state?Pierced is the Earth, and rent with sounds of woe!And I my spouse beholding near the tombAm troubled, and her offerings I receivePropitious. Ye with her this cry have raisedOf shrill lament to bring the dead from Hades,No easy climb; the gods beneath the groundAre readier to receive than to dismiss;f31But I was lord above them. I am comeTo meet your questioning. Ask, while yet the timeChides not my stay. What ill weighs Persia down?STROPHEChorus.I cannot speak before thee;I tremble to behold thee;The ancient awe subdues me.Darius.Not to hold a long discourse, but swift to grant a short reply,I have left the homes of Hades, by your waitings deeply moved.What thou hast to ask me, therefore ask, and throw all fear aside.ANTISTROPHE.Chorus.I tremble to obey thee.Such sorrows to unfold thee,My powerless lips refuse me.Darius.Since the ancient reverence holds thee, and enchains thy mind, to theeI will speak, the aged partner of my bed, my high-born spouse.Cease thy weepings and thy waitings; tell me what mischance hath hapt.’Tis most human that mischances come to mortal man, not fewWoes by seas, not few by land, if the Fates prolong his span.Atossa.O all men in bliss surpassing while thine eyes beheld the day,Of all Persians envied, living like a god on earth, no lessHappy wert thou in thy dying, ere thou didst behold the depthOf this present woe, Darius. Thou, in short phrase shalt hear all.Persia’s strength is gone: the army lost: all ruined. I have said.Darius.How? Did pestilence smite the city, or did foul sedition rise?Atossa.Neither. Near far Athens routed was the Persian host.Darius.Who marched?Which of my children marched the host to Athens?Atossa.Thy impetuous sonXerxes. Xerxes of her children drained wide Asia’s plains.Darius.On foot,Or with triremes did he risk this foolish venture?Atossa.With two fronts,One by sea, by land the other.Darius.But so vast an army how?Atossa.With rare bonds of wood and iron, Helle’s streaming frith they crossed.Darius.Wood and iron! Could these fetter billowy Bosphorus in his flow?Atossa.So it was. Some god had lent him wit to plan his own perdition.Darius.Alas! a mighty god full surely robbed him of his sober mind.Atossa.And the fruit of his great folly we behold in matchless woes.Darius.I have heard your wailings: tell me more exact the dismal chance.Atossa.First the whole sea host being ruined brought like ruin on the foot.Darius.By the hostile spear of Hellas they have perished one and all?Atossa.Ay. The citadel of Susa, emptied of her children, moans.Darius.Alas! the faithful army!Atossa.All the flower of Bactria’s youth are slain.Darius.Woe, my hapless son! What myriads of our faithful friends he ruined!Atossa.Xerxes, stripped of all his glory, with a straggling few they say—Darius.What of him? Speak! Speak! I pray thee; is there safety, is there hope?Atossa.Fainly comes, with life scarce rescued, to the bridge that links the lands.Darius.And has crossed to Asia?Atossa.Even so, most surely, ran the news.Darius.Ah! on wings how swift the issue of the ancient doom hath sped!Thee, my son, great Jove hath smitten. Long-drawn years I hoped would roll,Ere fulfilment of the dread prophetic burden should be known.But when man to run is eager, swift is the god to add a spur.n27Opened flows a fount of sorrow to ourselves and to our friends.This my son knew not: he acted with green youth’s presumptuous daring,Weening Helle’s sacred current, Bosphorus’ flood divine to bindLike a slave with hammered fetters, damming its unconquered tide,Forcing passage against Nature for a host unwisely great.Being mortal with immortals, with Poseidon’s power he daredTo contend fool-hardy. Did not strong distemper hold the soulOf my hapless son? The riches stored by me with mickle careNow, I fear, will be the booty of the swiftest-seizing hand.Atossa.Converse with the sons of folly taught thy eager son to err,n28Thou wert great they said, and mighty, winning riches with thy spear,He, unmanly, chamber-fighting, adding nothing to thy store.With these taunts the ears assailing of thy warlike son, bad menPlanned at length the march to Hellas—planned his ruin and our woe.Darius.And, doing this, my son hath done a deedWhose heavy memory shall not die. For neverFell such mischance on Susa’s halls, since whenJove gave his honor that one sceptre swaysSheep-pasturing Asia. First the Mede was KingOf the vast host of people.n29Him his sonSucceeded, ending well things well begun;For wisdom still was rudder to his valour.Cyrus, the third from him, a prosperous man,Brought peace to all his friends. The Lydian people,The Phrygians, the Ionians, he subdued:With him no god was wroth; for he was wise.The fourth was Cyrus’ son: he was a leaderOf mighty hosts. Him, the fifth, Mardus followed,A blot to Persia, and the ancestral throne;Whom in the palace slew Artaphrenes,Sworn, with a chosen band of faithful friends,To give him secret riddance. Maraphis next,And seventh Artaphrenes: myselfThen won the lot I coveted. I marchedMy hosts to many wars, but never broughtMishap like this on Susa. My son, Xerxes,Being young hath young conceits; and takes no noteOf my advisement. Ye, who were my friends,And fellows in the government, can witness,We suffered loss, but we preserved the state.Chorus.Liege lord Darius, to what issue tendThy words? With greedy ears we wait to hearHow Persia henceforth may her strength repair.Darius.Learn from your loss, and never march your armiesAgain to Hellas, were they twice as strong.Not man alone, the land fights for the foe.Chorus.How mean’st thou this? how fights the land for them?Darius.Our mighty multitudes their barren coastKills by sheer famine.Chorus.But with a moderate host?Darius.A moderate host remains; but, of that few,Few shall see Persian land.Chorus.How? Shall the armyNot all from Europe cross by Helle’s frith?Darius.Few out of many; if the prophecies,That are in part fulfilled by what we see,(And the gods lie not) speak the future true.It is an empty hope that bids him leaveA select force behind him: they remain,Where with fat streams Asopus feeds the plain,Themselves to feed it fatter: in BœotiaMuch woe awaits them justly, the fair priceOf their own godless pride, that did not fearWhen first they entered Greece, to rob the altarsOf the eternal gods, to fire their temples,Uproot the old foundations of their shrines,And from their basements in commingled wreckDash down the images. Much harm they worked,And much shall suffer. From no shallow bedTheir woes shall flow, but like a spring gush forth,Still fresh enforced. With such gore-streaming deathThe Dorian spear shall daub Plataea’s soil;And the piled dead to generations threeSpeak this mute wisdom to the thoughtful eye—Proud thoughts were never made for mortal man;A haughty spiritf32blossoming bears a cropOf woe, and reaps a harvest of despair.Look on these things, pride’s just avengement; thinkOn Athens and on Hellas; fear to slightThe present bounty of the gods, lest theyRob you of much, while greed still gapes for more.Jove is chastiser of high-vaunting thoughts,And heavily falls his judgment on the proud;Therefore, my foolish son, when he shall come,With friendly warnings teach, that he may ceaseFrom rash imaginings that offend the gods.And thou, his aged mother, go within,And bring a seemly robe with thee, to meetThy son withal: for thou shalt see him soon,His broidered vestments torn in many a shred,Griefs blazonry. Thou only with kind wordsCanst soothe his sorrow, deaf to all beside.But now I go hence to the gloom below.Ye aged friends, farewell. Though ills surround,Yet give your souls to joyaunce, while ye may,For riches profit nothing to the dead.[The Shade ofDariusdescends.Chorus.O many woes, both present and to come,On the barbaric race I weep to hear!Atossa.O god, how many sorrows hast thou sentTo weigh me down: but this doth gnaw my heart,That I should live to see my kingly sonCome in griefs tattered weeds to Susa’s halls;But I will go and bring a seemly robeTo meet him, if I may. I will not leaveMy dear-loved son unsolaced in his woe.[Exit into the palace.CHORAL HYMN.STROPHE I.O glorious and great was the Persian land!To the cities of Susa that owned his commandHow blest was the day!Defeat came not nigh us when good old DariusWith invincible, godlike, victorious handHeld fortunate sway.ANTISTROPHE I.Sure-fenced were his cities with law, and no fearThe Persian knew when his armies were near;They came from the fight,Not weary and worn, and of glory shorn,But trophied with spoils, and with costliest gearAll proudly bedight.STROPHE II.What cities of splendourTo him did surrender,Though he crossed not the border that Halys prescribesTo the Median tribes!From Susa farThrace feared his war,And the islanded cities of Strymon the riverCowered at the clang of his sounding quiver.ANTISTROPHE II.And cities of power,Girt with wall and with tower,Far inland away from the frith and the bay,Rejoiced in his sway;The proud roofs that gleamO’er Helle’s broad stream,That fringe Propontis’ bosomed shores,And where the mouth of hoarse Pontus roars.STROPHE III.And the sea-swept isles that like sentinels standBreasting the ports of the Asian land,Lesbos and Chios, with bright wine glowing,And Samos, where groves of green olive are growing,Myconos, Paros, and Naxos together,Studding the main like brother with brother,And Andros that neighbourly lies in the sea,Tenos to thee.ANTISTROPHE III.And Lemnos that looks with a doubtful faceHalf to Asia, half to Thrace,And where Daedalean Icarus fell,And Rhodes and Cnidos of him can tell,And the cities of Cyprus great and small,Paphos and Soli obeyed his call,And the mother whose name the daughter borrows,That caused our sorrows.f33EPODE.And the towns of the Greeks, well peopled and wealthy,He swayed with counsels wise and healthy;And the mustered strength of the East stood by us,A harnessed array,Many-mingled were they,Made one at the call of the mighty Darius.But now the tide hath turned indeed,The gods have worked our woe,By the spear, and the glaive,And the fierce-lashing waveLow lies the might of the Mede!EnterXerxes.Xerxes.Ah wretched me! even so, even so;Suddenly, suddenly came the blow,And strong was the rod of the merciless godThat struck the Persian low!Ah me! Ah me!My knees beneath me shake, to seeThese seniors reverend and grey,Gathered to meet me on such a day.O would that I had been fated to dieWith the brave where destiny found them,When they stained with gore the stranger’s shore,And the darkness of death came round them!Chorus.O king of the goodly army, for theeWe weep, and the princes that went with thee,Of Persian nobles the glory and crown,Whom a god with his scythe mowed down!For the halls of Hades, dark and wide,Xerxes hath plenished with Persia’s pride,And the land laments her sons.Hundreds have trodden the path of gloom,Thousands of Asia’s choicest bloom;Tens of thousands, that wielded the bow,Are gone to the chambers of death below.Ah me! ah me! these strong-limbed men,Where be they now that were lusty then?All Asia mourns, O King, with thee,And bends the feeble knee.[Here commences, with mournful Oriental music, and with violent gesticulations, a great National Wail over the misfortunes of the Persian people.STROPHE I.Xerxes.I am the man! I am the man!The father of shame! the fount of disgrace!Weep me! weep me! once a king,Now to my country an evil thing,A curse to my race!Chorus.To meet thy returning,A voice of deep mourning,A tune evil-aboding,A cry spirit-goading,Of a Maryandine wailer,n30Thou shalt hear, thou shalt hear,O King, with many a tear!ANTISTROPHE I.Xerxes.Lift ye, lift ye, the piercing cry!Tune ye, tune ye, the doleful lay!For the ancient god of the Persian race,That bless’d our fathers, hath turned his faceFrom Xerxes away!Chorus.A cry spirit-piercing,The dark tale rehearsing,Of ocean red-heaving,The slaughtered receiving,The cry of a city that wails for her childrenThou shalt hear, thou shalt hear,O King, with many a tear!STROPHE II.Xerxes.Ares was strong on the side of the foe,The Ionian foe!Bristling with ships he worked our woe.His scythe did mow,The sea, the land,And laid us lowOn the dismal strand.Leader of Chorus.n31Lift, O lift, the earnest cry!Ask, and he will make reply.Chorus.Where is all thy troop of friends,That marched with thee away, away?Where is the might of Pharandaces,Susas and Pelagon, where be they?Where is Datamas, where Agdabatus,Psammis, and Susiscánes, say?All that marched from Ecbatana’s halls,Where be they? where be they?ANTISTROPHE II.Xerxes.From a Tyrian ship they leapt on shore,To leap no more.On the shore of Salamis drenched in gore,The stony shore,They made their bed,To rise no more,The dead! the dead!Leader of Chorus.Lift, O lift the earnest cry,Ask, and he will make reply!Chorus.Ah! say, where is Pharnúchus, where?Cariomardus, where is he?Where the chief Seualces, whereAelæus of noble degree?Memphis, Tharybis, and Masistris,Hystæchmas, and Artembares, say?All the brave that journeyed to Hellas,Where be they? where be they?STROPHE III.Xerxes.Ah me! ah me!They looked on Ogygian Athens,f34and straightWith one fell swoop down came the Fate,And we left them there with gasp and groan,On the shore of the stranger strewn.Chorus.Didst thou leave him there to lie,Batanóchus’ son, thy faithful eye?f35Him didst thou leave on Salamis’ shoresWho counted thy thousands by tens and by scoresThe strong Oebáres and Parthus, were theyLeft to be lashed by the hostile spray?The Persian princes—woe! woe! woe!Hast thou left to the flood and the foe?ANTISTROPHE III.Xerxes.Ah me! ah me!Balefully, balefully with sharp sorrow,Thou dost pierce my inmost marrow;My heart, my heart cries out to hear theeName the lost friends I loved so dearly!Chorus.One other name compels my grief,Xanthus, of Mardian men the chief;Ancháres the warlike, and lords of the steedDiaexis, Arsáces that ride with speed?Lythimnas, Kygdabatas, where be they,And Tolmos eager for the fray?Not, I wis, where they wont to be,Behind the tented car with thee.STROPHE IV.Xerxes.They are gone, the generals, gone for ever!Chorus.Lost, and to be heard of never!Xerxes.Woe worth the day!Chorus.Ye gods! on a public place of woeYe set us high;And Até on the sorrowful showDoth feast her eye.ANTISTROPHE IV.Xerxes.We are stricken, beyond redemption stricken!Chorus.Stricken of Heaven! with vengeance stricken!Xerxes.And sore dismay!Chorus.On an evil day we joined the fray,With the brave Greek name;From Ionian ships a sheer eclipseOn Persia came.STROPHE V.Xerxes.With such an army, struck so dire a blow!Chorus.So great a power, the Persian power, laid low!Xerxes.These rags, the rest of all my state, behold!Chorus.Ay! we behold.Xerxes.This arrow-case thou see’st, this quiver alone—Chorus.What say’st thou? this alone?Xerxes.This arrow-case my all.Chorus.From store how great, remnant how small!Xerxes.With no friends near, abandoned sheer.Chorus.The Ionian people shrinks not from the spear.ANTISTROPHE V.Xerxes.They face it well. I saw the deadly fight.Chorus.The sea-encounter saw’st thou, and the flight?Xerxes.Ay! and beholding it I tore my stole.Chorus.O dole! O dole!Xerxes.More dolorous than dole! and worse than worst!Chorus.O doubly, trebly curst!Xerxes.To us annoy, to Athens joy!Chorus.Our sinews lamed, our vigour maimed!Xerxes.Unministered and unattended!Chorus.Alas! thy friends on Salamis were stranded!STROPHE VI.Xerxes.Weep, and while the salt tears flow,To the palace let us go!Chorus.We weep, and, while the salt tears flow,To the palace with thee go.Xerxes.Ring the peal both loud and shrill!Chorus.An ill addition is ill to ill.Xerxes.Swell the echo!—high and higherLift the wail to my desire!Chorus.With echoing sorrow, high and higher,We lift the wail to thy desire.Xerxes.Heavy came the blow, and stunning.Chorus.From my eyes the tears are running.ANTISTROPHE VI.Xerxes.Lift thine arms and sink them low,Oaring with the oars of woe!n32Chorus.Our arms we lift, dark woes deploring,With the oars of sorrow oaring.Xerxes.Ring the peal both loud and shrill!Chorus.Grief to grief, and ill to ill.Xerxes.With shrill melody, high and higher,Lift the wail to my desire!Chorus.With thrilling melody, high and higher,We lift the wail to thy desire.Xerxes.Mingle, mingle sigh with sigh!Chorus.Wail for wail, and cry for cry.STROPHE VII.Xerxes.Beat your breasts; let sorrow surge,Like a Mysian wailer’s dirge!Chorus.Even as a dirge; a Mysian dirge.Xerxes.From thy chin the honor tear,Pluck thy beard of snowy hair!f36Chorus.We tear, we tear, the snowy hair.Xerxes.Lift again the thrilling strain!Chorus.Again, again, ascends the strain.ANTISTROPHE VII.Xerxes.From thy breast the white robe tear,Make thy wounded bosom bare!Chorus.The purfled linen, lo! I tear.Xerxes.Pluck the honor from thy head,Weep in baldness for the dead!Chorus.I pluck my locks, and weep the dead.Xerxes.Weep, weep! till thine eyes be dim!Chorus.With streaming woe, they swim, they swimEPODE.Xerxes.Ring the peal both loud and shrill!Chorus.Grief to grief, and ill to ill!Xerxes.Go to the palace: go in sadness!Chorus.I tread the ground sure not with gladness.Xerxes.Let sorrow echo through the city!Chorus.From street to street the wailing ditty.Xerxes.Sons of Susa, with delicate feet,n33Gently, gently tread the street!Chorus.Gently we tread the grief-sown soil.Xerxes.The ships, the ships by Ajax isle,The triremes worked our ruin sheer.Chorus.Go. Thy convoy be a tear.[Exeunt.[The End]NOTES TO THE PLAYSNOTES TO THE AGAMEMNON
ANTISTROPHE I.
Dark-prowed ships that plough wide ocean
With well-poised wings through waves’ commotion,
Ships, the countless crews that carried,
In briny death ye saw them buried,
Where the Ionian beaks were dashing,
Where the Persian booms were crashing!
And our monarch scarcely scaping,
Left with life the deathful fray,
Through the plains of Thracia shaping
Sad his bleak and wintry way.
STROPHE II.
But the firstlings of our losses
The Ionian billow tosses,
And Cychréan waves are hurried,
O’er the stranded dead unburied.
Let the sharp grief bite thy marrow,
With thy wailing smite the sky!
Freely voice thy heaving sorrow,
With a weighty burden cry!
ANTISTROPHE II.
Woe’s me! by the wild waves driven,
By the mute sea-monsters riven,n19
The untainted ocean’s creatures
Battening on their traceless features!
Heirless homes are lorn and lonely,
Childless parents weep and wail,
Old men weep; with weeping only
They receive the woeful tale.
STROPHE III.
Ah me! even now while we are mourning
Some rebel hearts belike are spurning
The Persian rule; some serf refuses
The gold due to his master’s uses.
And some are slow with reverence low
To kiss the ground and adore,
For the power that long was fresh and strong
Is found no more.
ANTISTROPHE III.
The tongues of men, free from wise reining,
Will now break forth with loud complaining;
Unmuzzled now, unyoked, the rabble
Will blaze abroad licentious babble.
For the blood-drenched soil of the sea-swept isle
Its prey restoreth never.
And the thing that hath been henceforth shall be seen
No more for ever.
EnterAtossa.
Atossa.
Good friends, whoso hath knowledge of mishap,
Knows this, that men, when swelling ills surge o’er them,
Brood o’er the harm till all things catch the hue
Of apprehension; but, when Fortune’s stream
Runs smooth, the same, with confidence elate,
Hope the boon god will blow fair breezes ever.
Thus to my soul all things are full of fear,
The adverse gods from all sides strike my eye,
And in my ear, with ominous-ringing peal,
Fate prophesies. Such terror scares my wits.
No royal car to-day, no queenly pomp
Is mine; the broidered stole would ill become
My present mission, bringing as thou see’st,
These simple offerings to appease the Shades;
From the chaste cow, this white and healthful milk,
This clearest juice, by the flower-working bee
Distilled, this pure wave from the virgin spring,
This draught of joyaunce from the unmingled grape,
Of a wild mother born; this fragrant fruit
Of the pale green olive, ever leafy-fair,n20
And these wreathed flowers, of all-producing Earth
Fair children. But, my dear lov’d friends, I pray you,
With pious supplication, now invoke,
The god Dariusn21while on the earth I pour
These pure libations to the honour’d dead.
Chorus.
O queen, much-revered of the Persian nation,
To the chambers below pour thou the libation,
While we shall uplift the holy hymn,
That the gods who reign in the regions dim,
May graciously hear when we pray.
O holy powers that darkly sway
In the subterranean night,
O Earth, and Hermes, and thou who art king
Of the Shades that float on bodiless wing,
Send, O send him back to the light!
For, if remedy be to our burden of woes,
He surely knows.
CHORAL HYMN.STROPHE I.
And dost thou hear me, blessed Shade, imploring
Thy aid divine, and freely pouring
Of plaintive grief
The various flow?
I will cry out, till Persia’s godlike chief
Shall hear below.
ANTISTROPHE I.
O Earth, and ye that rule the shadowy homes,
Send from your sunless domes
The mighty god
Of Susan birth,
Than whom no greater yet was pressed by the sod
Of Persian earth.
STROPHE II.
O dear-loved man! dear tomb! and dearer dust
That in thee lies!
O Aïdóneus, thy charge release,n22
O stern Aïdóneus, and, in peace,
Let king Darius rise!
ANTISTROPHE II.
He was a king no myriads vast he lost
In wars inglorious.
Persia, a counsellor was he,
A counsellor of god to thee,
He with his hosts victorious.
STROPHE III.
Come, dread lord!n23Appear! Appear!
O’er the sepulchre’s topmost tier;
The disc of thy regal tiara showing,n24
With thy sandals saffron-glowing,
Come, good father Darius, come!
ANTISTROPHE III.
Fresh and unstaunched woes to hear,
Lord of a mighty lord appear!
For the clouds of Stygian night o’ercome us,
And all our youth are perished from us,
Come, good father Darius, come!
EPODE.
O woe! and woe! and yet again
Woe, and misery, and pain!
Why should’st thou die, and leave the land
Thou master of the mighty hand?
Why should thy son with foolish venture
Shake thy sure Empire to its centre?n25
And why must we deplore
The countless triremes on the sea-swept shore
Triremes no more?n26
The Shade ofDariusrises from the Tomb.
Darius.
O faithfullest of my faithful friends, compeers
Of my fair youth, elders of Persia, say
With what sore labour labours now the state?
Pierced is the Earth, and rent with sounds of woe!
And I my spouse beholding near the tomb
Am troubled, and her offerings I receive
Propitious. Ye with her this cry have raised
Of shrill lament to bring the dead from Hades,
No easy climb; the gods beneath the ground
Are readier to receive than to dismiss;f31
But I was lord above them. I am come
To meet your questioning. Ask, while yet the time
Chides not my stay. What ill weighs Persia down?
STROPHEChorus.
I cannot speak before thee;
I tremble to behold thee;
The ancient awe subdues me.
Darius.
Not to hold a long discourse, but swift to grant a short reply,
I have left the homes of Hades, by your waitings deeply moved.
What thou hast to ask me, therefore ask, and throw all fear aside.
ANTISTROPHE.Chorus.
I tremble to obey thee.
Such sorrows to unfold thee,
My powerless lips refuse me.
Darius.
Since the ancient reverence holds thee, and enchains thy mind, to thee
I will speak, the aged partner of my bed, my high-born spouse.
Cease thy weepings and thy waitings; tell me what mischance hath hapt.
’Tis most human that mischances come to mortal man, not few
Woes by seas, not few by land, if the Fates prolong his span.
Atossa.
O all men in bliss surpassing while thine eyes beheld the day,
Of all Persians envied, living like a god on earth, no less
Happy wert thou in thy dying, ere thou didst behold the depth
Of this present woe, Darius. Thou, in short phrase shalt hear all.
Persia’s strength is gone: the army lost: all ruined. I have said.
Darius.
How? Did pestilence smite the city, or did foul sedition rise?
Atossa.
Neither. Near far Athens routed was the Persian host.
Darius.
Who marched?
Which of my children marched the host to Athens?
Atossa.
Thy impetuous son
Xerxes. Xerxes of her children drained wide Asia’s plains.
Darius.
On foot,
Or with triremes did he risk this foolish venture?
Atossa.
With two fronts,
One by sea, by land the other.
Darius.
But so vast an army how?
Atossa.
With rare bonds of wood and iron, Helle’s streaming frith they crossed.
Darius.
Wood and iron! Could these fetter billowy Bosphorus in his flow?
Atossa.
So it was. Some god had lent him wit to plan his own perdition.
Darius.
Alas! a mighty god full surely robbed him of his sober mind.
Atossa.
And the fruit of his great folly we behold in matchless woes.
Darius.
I have heard your wailings: tell me more exact the dismal chance.
Atossa.
First the whole sea host being ruined brought like ruin on the foot.
Darius.
By the hostile spear of Hellas they have perished one and all?
Atossa.
Ay. The citadel of Susa, emptied of her children, moans.
Darius.
Alas! the faithful army!
Atossa.
All the flower of Bactria’s youth are slain.
Darius.
Woe, my hapless son! What myriads of our faithful friends he ruined!
Atossa.
Xerxes, stripped of all his glory, with a straggling few they say—
Darius.
What of him? Speak! Speak! I pray thee; is there safety, is there hope?
Atossa.
Fainly comes, with life scarce rescued, to the bridge that links the lands.
Darius.
And has crossed to Asia?
Atossa.
Even so, most surely, ran the news.
Darius.
Ah! on wings how swift the issue of the ancient doom hath sped!
Thee, my son, great Jove hath smitten. Long-drawn years I hoped would roll,
Ere fulfilment of the dread prophetic burden should be known.
But when man to run is eager, swift is the god to add a spur.n27
Opened flows a fount of sorrow to ourselves and to our friends.
This my son knew not: he acted with green youth’s presumptuous daring,
Weening Helle’s sacred current, Bosphorus’ flood divine to bind
Like a slave with hammered fetters, damming its unconquered tide,
Forcing passage against Nature for a host unwisely great.
Being mortal with immortals, with Poseidon’s power he dared
To contend fool-hardy. Did not strong distemper hold the soul
Of my hapless son? The riches stored by me with mickle care
Now, I fear, will be the booty of the swiftest-seizing hand.
Atossa.
Converse with the sons of folly taught thy eager son to err,n28
Thou wert great they said, and mighty, winning riches with thy spear,
He, unmanly, chamber-fighting, adding nothing to thy store.
With these taunts the ears assailing of thy warlike son, bad men
Planned at length the march to Hellas—planned his ruin and our woe.
Darius.
And, doing this, my son hath done a deed
Whose heavy memory shall not die. For never
Fell such mischance on Susa’s halls, since when
Jove gave his honor that one sceptre sways
Sheep-pasturing Asia. First the Mede was King
Of the vast host of people.n29Him his son
Succeeded, ending well things well begun;
For wisdom still was rudder to his valour.
Cyrus, the third from him, a prosperous man,
Brought peace to all his friends. The Lydian people,
The Phrygians, the Ionians, he subdued:
With him no god was wroth; for he was wise.
The fourth was Cyrus’ son: he was a leader
Of mighty hosts. Him, the fifth, Mardus followed,
A blot to Persia, and the ancestral throne;
Whom in the palace slew Artaphrenes,
Sworn, with a chosen band of faithful friends,
To give him secret riddance. Maraphis next,
And seventh Artaphrenes: myself
Then won the lot I coveted. I marched
My hosts to many wars, but never brought
Mishap like this on Susa. My son, Xerxes,
Being young hath young conceits; and takes no note
Of my advisement. Ye, who were my friends,
And fellows in the government, can witness,
We suffered loss, but we preserved the state.
Chorus.
Liege lord Darius, to what issue tend
Thy words? With greedy ears we wait to hear
How Persia henceforth may her strength repair.
Darius.
Learn from your loss, and never march your armies
Again to Hellas, were they twice as strong.
Not man alone, the land fights for the foe.
Chorus.
How mean’st thou this? how fights the land for them?
Darius.
Our mighty multitudes their barren coast
Kills by sheer famine.
Chorus.
But with a moderate host?
Darius.
A moderate host remains; but, of that few,
Few shall see Persian land.
Chorus.
How? Shall the army
Not all from Europe cross by Helle’s frith?
Darius.
Few out of many; if the prophecies,
That are in part fulfilled by what we see,
(And the gods lie not) speak the future true.
It is an empty hope that bids him leave
A select force behind him: they remain,
Where with fat streams Asopus feeds the plain,
Themselves to feed it fatter: in Bœotia
Much woe awaits them justly, the fair price
Of their own godless pride, that did not fear
When first they entered Greece, to rob the altars
Of the eternal gods, to fire their temples,
Uproot the old foundations of their shrines,
And from their basements in commingled wreck
Dash down the images. Much harm they worked,
And much shall suffer. From no shallow bed
Their woes shall flow, but like a spring gush forth,
Still fresh enforced. With such gore-streaming death
The Dorian spear shall daub Plataea’s soil;
And the piled dead to generations three
Speak this mute wisdom to the thoughtful eye—
Proud thoughts were never made for mortal man;
A haughty spiritf32blossoming bears a crop
Of woe, and reaps a harvest of despair.
Look on these things, pride’s just avengement; think
On Athens and on Hellas; fear to slight
The present bounty of the gods, lest they
Rob you of much, while greed still gapes for more.
Jove is chastiser of high-vaunting thoughts,
And heavily falls his judgment on the proud;
Therefore, my foolish son, when he shall come,
With friendly warnings teach, that he may cease
From rash imaginings that offend the gods.
And thou, his aged mother, go within,
And bring a seemly robe with thee, to meet
Thy son withal: for thou shalt see him soon,
His broidered vestments torn in many a shred,
Griefs blazonry. Thou only with kind words
Canst soothe his sorrow, deaf to all beside.
But now I go hence to the gloom below.
Ye aged friends, farewell. Though ills surround,
Yet give your souls to joyaunce, while ye may,
For riches profit nothing to the dead.
[The Shade ofDariusdescends.
Chorus.
O many woes, both present and to come,
On the barbaric race I weep to hear!
Atossa.
O god, how many sorrows hast thou sent
To weigh me down: but this doth gnaw my heart,
That I should live to see my kingly son
Come in griefs tattered weeds to Susa’s halls;
But I will go and bring a seemly robe
To meet him, if I may. I will not leave
My dear-loved son unsolaced in his woe.
[Exit into the palace.
CHORAL HYMN.STROPHE I.
O glorious and great was the Persian land!
To the cities of Susa that owned his command
How blest was the day!
Defeat came not nigh us when good old Darius
With invincible, godlike, victorious hand
Held fortunate sway.
ANTISTROPHE I.
Sure-fenced were his cities with law, and no fear
The Persian knew when his armies were near;
They came from the fight,
Not weary and worn, and of glory shorn,
But trophied with spoils, and with costliest gear
All proudly bedight.
STROPHE II.
What cities of splendour
To him did surrender,
Though he crossed not the border that Halys prescribes
To the Median tribes!
From Susa far
Thrace feared his war,
And the islanded cities of Strymon the river
Cowered at the clang of his sounding quiver.
ANTISTROPHE II.
And cities of power,
Girt with wall and with tower,
Far inland away from the frith and the bay,
Rejoiced in his sway;
The proud roofs that gleam
O’er Helle’s broad stream,
That fringe Propontis’ bosomed shores,
And where the mouth of hoarse Pontus roars.
STROPHE III.
And the sea-swept isles that like sentinels stand
Breasting the ports of the Asian land,
Lesbos and Chios, with bright wine glowing,
And Samos, where groves of green olive are growing,
Myconos, Paros, and Naxos together,
Studding the main like brother with brother,
And Andros that neighbourly lies in the sea,
Tenos to thee.
ANTISTROPHE III.
And Lemnos that looks with a doubtful face
Half to Asia, half to Thrace,
And where Daedalean Icarus fell,
And Rhodes and Cnidos of him can tell,
And the cities of Cyprus great and small,
Paphos and Soli obeyed his call,
And the mother whose name the daughter borrows,
That caused our sorrows.f33
EPODE.
And the towns of the Greeks, well peopled and wealthy,
He swayed with counsels wise and healthy;
And the mustered strength of the East stood by us,
A harnessed array,
Many-mingled were they,
Made one at the call of the mighty Darius.
But now the tide hath turned indeed,
The gods have worked our woe,
By the spear, and the glaive,
And the fierce-lashing wave
Low lies the might of the Mede!
EnterXerxes.
Xerxes.
Ah wretched me! even so, even so;
Suddenly, suddenly came the blow,
And strong was the rod of the merciless god
That struck the Persian low!
Ah me! Ah me!
My knees beneath me shake, to see
These seniors reverend and grey,
Gathered to meet me on such a day.
O would that I had been fated to die
With the brave where destiny found them,
When they stained with gore the stranger’s shore,
And the darkness of death came round them!
Chorus.
O king of the goodly army, for thee
We weep, and the princes that went with thee,
Of Persian nobles the glory and crown,
Whom a god with his scythe mowed down!
For the halls of Hades, dark and wide,
Xerxes hath plenished with Persia’s pride,
And the land laments her sons.
Hundreds have trodden the path of gloom,
Thousands of Asia’s choicest bloom;
Tens of thousands, that wielded the bow,
Are gone to the chambers of death below.
Ah me! ah me! these strong-limbed men,
Where be they now that were lusty then?
All Asia mourns, O King, with thee,
And bends the feeble knee.
[Here commences, with mournful Oriental music, and with violent gesticulations, a great National Wail over the misfortunes of the Persian people.
STROPHE I.Xerxes.
I am the man! I am the man!
The father of shame! the fount of disgrace!
Weep me! weep me! once a king,
Now to my country an evil thing,
A curse to my race!
Chorus.
To meet thy returning,
A voice of deep mourning,
A tune evil-aboding,
A cry spirit-goading,
Of a Maryandine wailer,n30
Thou shalt hear, thou shalt hear,
O King, with many a tear!
ANTISTROPHE I.Xerxes.
Lift ye, lift ye, the piercing cry!
Tune ye, tune ye, the doleful lay!
For the ancient god of the Persian race,
That bless’d our fathers, hath turned his face
From Xerxes away!
Chorus.
A cry spirit-piercing,
The dark tale rehearsing,
Of ocean red-heaving,
The slaughtered receiving,
The cry of a city that wails for her children
Thou shalt hear, thou shalt hear,
O King, with many a tear!
STROPHE II.Xerxes.
Ares was strong on the side of the foe,
The Ionian foe!
Bristling with ships he worked our woe.
His scythe did mow,
The sea, the land,
And laid us low
On the dismal strand.
Leader of Chorus.n31
Lift, O lift, the earnest cry!
Ask, and he will make reply.
Chorus.
Where is all thy troop of friends,
That marched with thee away, away?
Where is the might of Pharandaces,
Susas and Pelagon, where be they?
Where is Datamas, where Agdabatus,
Psammis, and Susiscánes, say?
All that marched from Ecbatana’s halls,
Where be they? where be they?
ANTISTROPHE II.Xerxes.
From a Tyrian ship they leapt on shore,
To leap no more.
On the shore of Salamis drenched in gore,
The stony shore,
They made their bed,
To rise no more,
The dead! the dead!
Leader of Chorus.
Lift, O lift the earnest cry,
Ask, and he will make reply!
Chorus.
Ah! say, where is Pharnúchus, where?
Cariomardus, where is he?
Where the chief Seualces, where
Aelæus of noble degree?
Memphis, Tharybis, and Masistris,
Hystæchmas, and Artembares, say?
All the brave that journeyed to Hellas,
Where be they? where be they?
STROPHE III.Xerxes.
Ah me! ah me!
They looked on Ogygian Athens,f34and straight
With one fell swoop down came the Fate,
And we left them there with gasp and groan,
On the shore of the stranger strewn.
Chorus.
Didst thou leave him there to lie,
Batanóchus’ son, thy faithful eye?f35
Him didst thou leave on Salamis’ shores
Who counted thy thousands by tens and by scores
The strong Oebáres and Parthus, were they
Left to be lashed by the hostile spray?
The Persian princes—woe! woe! woe!
Hast thou left to the flood and the foe?
ANTISTROPHE III.Xerxes.
Ah me! ah me!
Balefully, balefully with sharp sorrow,
Thou dost pierce my inmost marrow;
My heart, my heart cries out to hear thee
Name the lost friends I loved so dearly!
Chorus.
One other name compels my grief,
Xanthus, of Mardian men the chief;
Ancháres the warlike, and lords of the steed
Diaexis, Arsáces that ride with speed?
Lythimnas, Kygdabatas, where be they,
And Tolmos eager for the fray?
Not, I wis, where they wont to be,
Behind the tented car with thee.
STROPHE IV.Xerxes.
They are gone, the generals, gone for ever!
Chorus.
Lost, and to be heard of never!
Xerxes.
Woe worth the day!
Chorus.
Ye gods! on a public place of woe
Ye set us high;
And Até on the sorrowful show
Doth feast her eye.
ANTISTROPHE IV.Xerxes.
We are stricken, beyond redemption stricken!
Chorus.
Stricken of Heaven! with vengeance stricken!
Xerxes.
And sore dismay!
Chorus.
On an evil day we joined the fray,
With the brave Greek name;
From Ionian ships a sheer eclipse
On Persia came.
STROPHE V.Xerxes.
With such an army, struck so dire a blow!
Chorus.
So great a power, the Persian power, laid low!
Xerxes.
These rags, the rest of all my state, behold!
Chorus.
Ay! we behold.
Xerxes.
This arrow-case thou see’st, this quiver alone—
Chorus.
What say’st thou? this alone?
Xerxes.
This arrow-case my all.
Chorus.
From store how great, remnant how small!
Xerxes.
With no friends near, abandoned sheer.
Chorus.
The Ionian people shrinks not from the spear.
ANTISTROPHE V.Xerxes.
They face it well. I saw the deadly fight.
Chorus.
The sea-encounter saw’st thou, and the flight?
Xerxes.
Ay! and beholding it I tore my stole.
Chorus.
O dole! O dole!
Xerxes.
More dolorous than dole! and worse than worst!
Chorus.
O doubly, trebly curst!
Xerxes.
To us annoy, to Athens joy!
Chorus.
Our sinews lamed, our vigour maimed!
Xerxes.
Unministered and unattended!
Chorus.
Alas! thy friends on Salamis were stranded!
STROPHE VI.Xerxes.
Weep, and while the salt tears flow,
To the palace let us go!
Chorus.
We weep, and, while the salt tears flow,
To the palace with thee go.
Xerxes.
Ring the peal both loud and shrill!
Chorus.
An ill addition is ill to ill.
Xerxes.
Swell the echo!—high and higher
Lift the wail to my desire!
Chorus.
With echoing sorrow, high and higher,
We lift the wail to thy desire.
Xerxes.
Heavy came the blow, and stunning.
Chorus.
From my eyes the tears are running.
ANTISTROPHE VI.Xerxes.
Lift thine arms and sink them low,
Oaring with the oars of woe!n32
Chorus.
Our arms we lift, dark woes deploring,
With the oars of sorrow oaring.
Xerxes.
Ring the peal both loud and shrill!
Chorus.
Grief to grief, and ill to ill.
Xerxes.
With shrill melody, high and higher,
Lift the wail to my desire!
Chorus.
With thrilling melody, high and higher,
We lift the wail to thy desire.
Xerxes.
Mingle, mingle sigh with sigh!
Chorus.
Wail for wail, and cry for cry.
STROPHE VII.Xerxes.
Beat your breasts; let sorrow surge,
Like a Mysian wailer’s dirge!
Chorus.
Even as a dirge; a Mysian dirge.
Xerxes.
From thy chin the honor tear,
Pluck thy beard of snowy hair!f36
Chorus.
We tear, we tear, the snowy hair.
Xerxes.
Lift again the thrilling strain!
Chorus.
Again, again, ascends the strain.
ANTISTROPHE VII.Xerxes.
From thy breast the white robe tear,
Make thy wounded bosom bare!
Chorus.
The purfled linen, lo! I tear.
Xerxes.
Pluck the honor from thy head,
Weep in baldness for the dead!
Chorus.
I pluck my locks, and weep the dead.
Xerxes.
Weep, weep! till thine eyes be dim!
Chorus.
With streaming woe, they swim, they swim
EPODE.Xerxes.
Ring the peal both loud and shrill!
Chorus.
Grief to grief, and ill to ill!
Xerxes.
Go to the palace: go in sadness!
Chorus.
I tread the ground sure not with gladness.
Xerxes.
Let sorrow echo through the city!
Chorus.
From street to street the wailing ditty.
Xerxes.
Sons of Susa, with delicate feet,n33
Gently, gently tread the street!
Chorus.
Gently we tread the grief-sown soil.
Xerxes.
The ships, the ships by Ajax isle,
The triremes worked our ruin sheer.
Chorus.
Go. Thy convoy be a tear.
[Exeunt.
[The End]