The Persians | ||
Enter Chorus of Persian Elders.
We the title bear of Faithful,
Friends of Persians gone to Hellas,
Watchers left of treasure city
Gold-abounding, whom, as oldest,
Xerxes hath himself appointed,
He, the offspring of Dareios,
As the warders of his country.
And about our king's returning,
And our army's, gold-abounding,
Over-much, with evil boding,
Does my mind within me shudder,
(For our whole strength born of Asia
Sorely frets: nor courier cometh,
Nor any horseman, bringing tidings
To the city of the Persians.
From Ecbatana departing,
Or Susa, or the Kissian fortress,
Forth they sped upon their journey,
Some in ships, and some on horses,
Some on foot, still onward marching,
In their close array presenting
Squadrons duly armed for battle:
Then Amistres, Artaphernes,
Megabazes, and Astaspes,
Mighty leaders of the Persians,
Kings, and of the great King servants,
March, the chiefs of mighty army.
Archers they and mounted horsemen,
Dread to look on, fierce in battle,
Artembares, horse-controller,
And Masistres, and Imæos,
Archer famed, and Pharandakes,
And the charioteer Sosthanes;
Sent forth others, Susiskanes,
Pegastagon, born in Egypt,
And the chief of sacred Memphis;
Great Arsames, Ariomardos,
Ruler of primeval Thebæ,
And the marshmen, and the rowers,
Dread and in their number countless.
And their fellow crowds of Lydians,
Very delicate and stately,
Who the people of the mainlands
Rule throughout,—whom Mitragathes
And brave Arkteus, kingly chieftains,
And Sardis, gold-abounding, send forth,
Riding on their many chariots,
Three or four a-breast their horses,
Sight to look upon all dreadful!
And the men of sacred Tmolos
Rush to place the yoke of bondage
Mardon, Tharybis, spear-anvils,
And the Mysians, javelin-darting,
Babylôn too, gold-abounding,
Sends a mingled crowd, swept onward,
Both the troops who man the vessels,
And the skilled and trustful archers;
And the race the sword that beareth,
Follows from each clime of Asia,
At the great King's dread commandment.
These, the bloom of Persia's greatness,
Now are gone forth to the battle;
And for these, their mother country,
Asia, mourns with mighty yearning;
Wives and mothers faint with trembling
Through the hours that slowly linger,
Counting each day as it passes.
Stroph. I.
Hath to the land beyond the sea passed over,
Crossing the straits of Athamantid Helle,
On raft by ropes secured,
As yoke upon the neck of mighty ocean.
'Gainst all the land his sacred host directeth
In two divisions, land and naval forces,
Trusting the chieftains stern,
The men who drive the host to fight, relentless,—
He, sprung from gold-born race, a hero godlike,
With many a hand, and many a ship, and driving his Syrian chariot,
He brings upon spearmen renowned the battle of conquering arrows.
Hard to fight is the host of the Persians, the people stout-hearted.
Who with a nimble foot of one leap is easily sovereign?
For Até, fawning and kind, at first a mortal betraying,
Then in snares and meshes decoys him,
Whence one who is but man is vain doth struggle to 'scape from.
Prevailed, and on the Persians brought this task,
Wars with the crash of towers,
And set the surge of horsemen in array,
And the fierce sack that lays a city low.
The wide sea hoary with the violent blast,
Waxing o'er confident
In cables formed of many a slender strand,
And rare device of transport for the host.
As clad in mourning, mutter in its fear,
Ah me! ah me! for all the Persian host!
Lest soon our country learn
That Susa's spacious fort is void of men.
Shall echo heavy thud of hands on breast.
Woe! woe! when all the crowd of women speak
This utterance of great grief,
And byssine robes are rent in agony.
And host that march on foot,
Like swarm of bees, have gone with him who led
The vanguard of the host,
Crossing the sea-washed, bridge-built promontory
That joins the shores of either continent.
In grief for husbands gone,
And Persian wives are lavish in their grief,
Each yearning for her lord;
And each who sent her warrior-spouse to battle
Now mourns at home in dreary solitude.
And sitting in this ancient hall of ours,
Let us take thought deep-counselling and wise,
(Sore need is there of that,)
How fareth now the great king Xerxes, he
Who calls Dareios sire,
Bearing the name our fathers bore of old?
Is it the archer's bow that wins the day?
Or does the strength prevail
Of iron point that heads the spear's strong shaft?
But lo! in glory like the face of gods,
The mother of my king, my queen, appears,
Let us do reverent homage at her feet;
Yea, it is meet that all
Should speak to her with words of salutation.
Enter Atossa in a chariot of state.
O sovereign queen of Persian wives deep-zoned,
Mother of Xerxes, old and venerable,
Wife of Dareios! hail!
'Twas thine to join in wedlock with a spouse
Whom Persians owned as God,
And of a God thou art the mother too,
Unless its ancient Fortune fails our host.
Yes, thus I come, our gold-decked palace leaving,
The bridal bower Dareios with me slept in.
Care gnaws my heart, but now I tell you plainly
A tale, my friends, which may not leave me fearless,
Lest boastful wealth should stumble at the threshold,
And with his foot o'erturn the prosperous fortune
That great Dareios raised with Heaven's high blessing.
And twofold care untold my bosom haunteth:
We may not honour wealth that has no warriors,
Nor on the poor shines light to strength proportioned;
Wealth without stint we have, yet for our eye we tremble;
For as the eye of home I deem a master's presence.
Wherefore, ye Persians, aid me now in counsel;
Trusty and old, in you lies hope of wisdom.
Chor.
Queen of our land! be sure thou need'st not utter
Or thing or word twice o'er, which power may point to;
Thou bid'st us counsel give who now are willing.
Atoss.
Ever with many visions of the night
Am I encompassed, since my son went forth,
Leading a mighty host, with aim to sack
The land of the Ionians. But ne'er yet
Have I beheld a dream so manifest
There stood by me two women in fair robes;
And this in Persian garments was arrayed,
And that in Dorian came before mine eyes;
In stature both of tallest, comeliest size;
And both of faultless beauty, sisters twain
Of the same stock. And they twain had their homes,
One in the Hellenic, one in alien land.
And these two, as I dreamt I saw, were set
At variance with each other. And my son
Learnt it, and checked and mollified their wrath,
And yokes them to his chariots, and his collar
He places on their necks. And one was proud
Of that equipment, and in harness gave
Her mouth obedient, but the other kicked,
And tears the chariot's trappings with her hands,
And rushes off uncurbed, and breaks its yoke
Asunder. And my son falls low, and then
His father comes, Dareios, pitying him.
And lo! when Xerxes sees him, he his clothes
Rends round his limbs. These things I say I saw
In visions of the night; and when I rose,
I at the altar stood with hand that bore
Sweet incense, wishing holy chrism to pour
To the averting Gods whom thus men worship.
And I beheld an eagle in full flight
To Phœbos' altar-hearth; and then, my friends,
I stood, struck dumb with fear; and next I saw
A kite pursuing, in her wingèd course,
And with his claws tearing the eagle's head,
Which did nought else but crouch and yield itself.
Such terrors it has been my lot to see,
And yours to hear: For be ye sure, my son,
If he succeed, will wonder-worthy prove;
But if he fail, still irresponsible
He to the people, and in either case,
He, should he but return, is sovereign still.
Chor.
We neither wish, O Lady, thee to frighten
O'ermuch with what we say, nor yet encourage:
But thou, the Gods adoring with entreaties,
If thou hast seen aught ill, bid them avert it,
And that all good things may receive fulfilment
For thee, thy children, and thy friends and country.
And next 'tis meet libations due to offer
Dareios, whom thou say'st by night thou sawest,
With kindly mood from 'neath the Earth to send thee
Good things to light for thee and for thine offspring,
While adverse things shall fade away in darkness.
Such things do I, a self-taught seer, advise thee
In kindly mood, and any way we reckon
That good will come to thee from out these omens.
Atoss.
Well, with kind heart, as first expounder, thou
Of these my dreams hast brought out welcome meaning
For me, and for my sons; and thy good news,
May it receive fulfilment! And this too,
As thou dost bid, we to the Gods will offer,
And to our friends below, when we go homeward.
But first, my friends, I wish to hear of Athens,
Where in the world do men report it standeth?
Chor.
Far to the West, where sets our king the Sun-God.
Atoss.
Was it this city my son wished to capture?
Chor.
Aye, then would Hellas to our king be subject.
Atoss.
And have they any multitude of soldiers?
Chor.
A mighty host, that wrought the Medes much mischief.
Atoss.
And what besides? Have they too wealth sufficing?
A fount of silver have they, their soil's treasure.
Atoss.
Have they a host in archers' skill excelling?
Chor.
Not so, they wield the pike and shield and bucklers.
Atoss.
What shepherd rules and lords it o'er their people?
Chor.
They are not slaves of any man, nor subjects.
Atoss.
How then can they sustain a foe invading?
Chor.
So that they spoiled Dareios' goodly army.
Atoss.
Dread news is thine for sires of those who 're marching.
Chor.
Nay, but I think thou soon wilt know the whole truth;
This running one may know is that of Persian:
'Tis clear he brings some good or evil tidings.
Enter Messenger.
Mess.
O cities of the whole wide land of Asia!
O soil of Persia, haven of great wealth!
How at one stroke is brought to nothingness
Our great prosperity, and all the flower
'Tis ill to be the first to bring ill news;
Yet needs must I the whole woe tell, ye Persians;
All our barbaric mighty host is lost.
Stroph. I.
Chor.
O piteous, piteous woe!
O strange and dread event!
Weep, O ye Persians, hearing this great grief!
Mess.
Yea, all things there are ruined utterly;
And I myself beyond all hope behold
The light of day at home.
Antistroph. I.
Chor.
Long, long doth life appear
To me, bowed down with years,
On hearing this unlooked-for misery.
Mess.
And I, indeed, being present and not hearing
The tales of others, can report, ye Persians,
What ills were brought to pass.
Stroph. II.
Chor.
Alas, alas! in vain
The many-weaponed and commingled host
Went from the land of Asia to invade
The soil divine of Hellas.
Mess.
Full of the dead, slain foully, are the coasts
Of Salamis, and all the neighbouring shore.
Chor.
Alas, alas! sea-tossed
The bodies of our friends, and much disstained:
Thou say'st that they are drifted to and fro
In far out-floating robes.
Mess.
E'en so; our bows availed not, but the host
Has perished, conquered by assault at sea.
Stroph. III.
Chor.
Wail, raise a bitter cry
And full of woe, for those who died in fight.
How every way the Gods have wrought out ill,
Ah me! ah me! our army all destroyed!
Mess.
O name of Salamis that most I loathe!
Ah how I groan, remembering Athens too!
Antistroph. III.
Chor.
Yea, to her enemies
Athens may well be hateful, and our minds
Remember how full many a Persian wife
She, for no cause, made widows and bereaved.
Atoss.
Long time I have been silent in my woe,
Crushed down with grief; for this calamity
Exceeds all power to tell the woe, or ask.
Yet still we mortals needs must bear the grief
The Gods send on us. Clearly tell thy tale,
Unfolding the whole mischief, even though
Thou groan'st at evils, who there is not dead,
And which of our chief captains we must mourn,
Left by their death that office desolate.
Mess.
Xerxes still lives and sees the light of day.
Atoss.
To my house, then, great light thy words have brought,
Bright dawn of morning after murky night.
Mess.
Artembares, the lord of myriad horse,
On the hard flinty coasts of the Sileni
Is now being dashed; and valiant Dadakes
Captain of thousands, smitten with the spear,
Leapt wildly from his ship. And Tenagon,
Best of the true old Bactrians, haunts the soil
Of Aias' isle; Lilaios, Arsames,
And with them too Argestes, there defeated,
Hard by the island where the doves abound,
Beat here and there upon the rocky shore.
[And from the springs of Neilos, Ægypt's stream,
Arkteus, Adeues, Pheresseues too,
These with Pharnuchos in one ship were lost;]
Matallos, Chrysa-born, the captain bold
Of myriads, leader he of swarthy horse
Some thirty thousand strong, has fallen low,
His red beard, hanging all its shaggy length,
Deep dyed with blood, and purpled all his skin.
Arabian Magos, Bactrian Artames,
[Amistris and Amphistreus, guiding well
The spear of many a conflict, and the noble
Ariomardos, giving cause of woe
At Sardis; and the Mysian Seisames.]
With seven score ships and ten came Tharybis;
Lyrnæan he in birth, once fair in form,
He lies, poor wretch, a death inglorious dying:
And, first in valour proved, Syennesis,
Kilikian Satrap, who, as one man, gave
Most trouble to his foes, and nobly died.
Of leaders such as these I mention make,
And out of many evils tell but few.
Atoss.
Woe, woe! I hear the very worst of ills,
Shame to the Persians, cause of bitter wail;
But tell me, going o'er the ground again,
How great the number of the Hellenes' navy,
That they presumed with Persia's armament
To wage their warfare in the clash of ships.
Mess.
As far as numbers went, be sure, the ships
Of Persia had the better, for the Hellenes
Had as their total ships but fifteen score,
And other ten selected as reserve.
And Xerxes (well I know it) had a thousand
Which he commanded—those that most excelled
So stands the account. Deem'st thou our forces less
In that encounter? Nay, some Power above
Destroyed our host, and pressed the balance down
With most unequal fortune, and the Gods
Preserve the city of the Goddess Pallas.
Atoss.
Is the Athenians' city then unsacked?
Mess.
Their men are left, and that is bulwark strong.
Atoss.
Next tell me how the fight by sea began.
Who led the attack? Were those Hellenes the first,
Or was my son, exulting in his strength?
Mess.
The author of the mischief, O my mistress,
Was some foul fiend or Power on evil bent;
For lo! a Hellene from the Athenian host
Came to thy son, to Xerxes, and spake thus,
That should the shadow of the dark night come,
The Hellenes would not wait him, but would leap
Into their rowers' benches, here and there,
And save their lives in secret, hasty flight.
And he forthwith, this hearing, knowing not
The Hellene's guile, nor yet the Gods' great envy,
Gives this command to all his admirals,
With his bright rays, and darkness thick invade
The firmament of Heaven, to set their ships
In three-fold lines, to hinder all escape,
And guard the billowy straits, and others place
In circuit round about the isle of Aias:
For if the Hellenes 'scaped an evil doom,
And found a way of secret, hasty flight,
It was ordained that all should lose their heads.
Such things he spake from soul o'erwrought with pride,
For he knew not what fate the Gods would send;
And they, in no disorder, but obeying,
Then made their supper ready, and each sailor
Fastened his oar around true-fitting thole;
And when the sunlight vanished, and the night
Had come, then each man, master of an oar,
Went to his ship, and all men bearing arms,
And rank encouraged rank in vessel long;
And so they sail, as 'twas appointed each,
And all night long the captains of the fleet
Kept their men working, rowing to and fro;
Night then came on, and the Hellenic host
In no wise sought to take to secret flight,
And when day, bright to look on with white steeds,
O'erspread the earth, then rose from the Hellenes
Loud chant of cry of battle, and forthwith
And terror then on all the Persians fell,
Of fond hopes disappointed. Not in flight
The Hellenes then their solemn pæans sang:
But with brave spirit hasting on to battle,
With martial sound the trumpet fired those ranks:
And straight with sweep of oars that flew through foam,
They smote the loud waves at the boatswain's call;
And swiftly all were manifest to sight.
Then first their right wing moved in order meet;
Next the whole line its forward course began,
And all at once we heard a mighty shout,—
“O sons of Hellenes, forward, free your country;
Free too your wives, your children, and the shrines
Built to your fathers' Gods, and holy tombs
Your ancestors now rest in. Now the fight
Is for our all.” And on our side indeed
Arose in answer din of Persian speech,
And time to wait was over: ship on ship
Dashed its bronze-pointed beak, and first a barque
Of Hellas did the encounter fierce begin,
And from Phœnikian vessel crashes off
Her carved prow. And each against his neighbour
Steers his own ship: and first the mighty flood
Of Persian host held out. But when the ships
Help to each other, they with mutual shocks,
With beaks of bronze went crushing each the other,
Shivering their rowers' benches. And the ships
Of Hellas, with manœuvring not unskilful,
Charged circling round them. And the hulls of ships
Floated capsized, nor could the sea be seen,
Filled, as it was, with wrecks and carcases;
And all the shores and rocks were full of corpses.
And every ship was wildly rowed in fight,
All that composed the Persian armament.
And they, as men spear tunnies, or a haul
Of other fishes, with the shafts of oars,
Or spars of wrecks went smiting, cleaving down;
And bitter groans and wailings overspread
The wide sea-waves, till eye of swarthy night
Bade it all cease: and for the mass of ills,
Not, though my tale should run for ten full days,
Could I in full recount them. Be assured
That never yet so great a multitude
Died in a single day as died in this.
Atoss.
Ah, me! Ah, me! Great then the sea of troubles
Mess.
Be sure our evil fate is but half o'er:
On this has supervened such bulk of woe,
As more than twice to outweigh what I tell.
Atoss.
And yet what fortune could be worse than this?
Say, what is this disaster which thou tell'st
That turns the scale to greater evils still?
Mess.
Those Persians that were in the bloom of life,
Bravest in heart and noblest in their blood,
And by the king himself deemed worthiest trust,
Basely and by most shameful death have died.
Atoss.
Ah! woe is me, my friends, for our ill fate!
What was the death by which thou say'st they died?
Mess.
There is an isle that lies off Salamis,
Small, with bad anchorage for ships, where Pan,
Pan the dance-loving, haunts the sea-washed coast.
There Xerxes sends these men, that when their foes,
Being wrecked, should to the islands safely swim,
They might with ease destroy th'Hellenic host,
And save their friends from out the deep sea's paths;
But ill the future guessing: for when God
Gave the Hellenes the glory of the battle,
In that same hour, with arms well wrought in bronze,
And the whole isle encircled, so that we
Were sore distressed, and knew not where to turn;
For here men's hands hurled many a stone at them;
And there the arrows from the archer's bow
Smote and destroyed them; and with one great rush,
At last advancing, they upon them dash
And smite, and hew the limbs of these poor wretches,
Till they their foes had utterly destroyed.
[And Xerxes when he saw how deep the ill,
Groaned out aloud, for he had ta'en his seat,
With clear, wide view of all the army round,
On a high cliff hard by the open sea;
And tearing then his robes with bitter cry,
And giving orders to his troops on shore,
He sends them off in foul retreat. This grief
'Tis thine to mourn besides the former ills.]
Atossa.
O hateful Power, how thou of all their hopes
Hast robbed the Persians! Bitter doom my son
Devised for glorious Athens, nor did they,
The invading host who fell at Marathon,
Suffice; but my son, counting it his task
To exact requital for it, brought on him
So great a crowd of sorrows. But I pray,
Where did'st thou leave them? Can'st thou clearly tell?
Mess.
The captains of the vessels that were left,
With a fair wind, but not in meet array,
Took flight: and all the remnant of the army
Fell in Bœotia—some for stress of thirst
About the fountain clear, and some of us,
Panting for breath, cross to the Phokians' land,
The soil of Doris, and the Melian gulf,
Where fair Spercheios waters all the plains
With kindly flood, and then the Achæan fields
And city of the Thessali received us,
Famished for lack of food; and many died
Of thirst and hunger, for both ills we bore;
And then to the Magnetian land we came,
And that of Macedonians, to the stream
Of Axios, and Bolbe's reed-grown marsh,
And Mount Pangaios and the Edonian land.
And on that night God sent a mighty frost,
Unwonted at that season, sealing up
The whole course of the Strymon's sacred flood;
And he who erst had deemed the Gods as nought,
Both earth and heaven. And after that the host
Ceased from its frequent calling on the Gods,
It crosses o'er the glassy, frozen stream;
And whosoe'er set forth before the rays
Of the bright God were shed abroad, was saved;
For soon the glorious sun with burning blaze
Reached the mid-stream and warmed it with its flame,
And they, confused, each on the other fell.
Blest then was he whose soul most speedily
Breathed out its last. And those who yet survived
And gained deliverance, crossing with great toil
And many a pang through Thrakè, now are come,
Escaped from perils, no great number they,
To this our sacred land, and so it groans,
This city of the Persians, missing much
Our country's dear-loved youth. Too true my tale,
And many things I from my speech omit,
Ills which the Persians suffer at God's hand.
Chor.
O Power resistless, how o'erwhelmingly
On all the Persian race have thy feet leapt!
Atoss.
Ah! woe is me for that our army lost!
Oh, vision of the night that cam'st in dreams!
Too clearly did'st thou shew me of these ills.
But ye (to Chorus)
did judge them far too carelessly;
Yet since your counsel pointed to that course,
I to the Gods will first my prayer address.
And then with gifts to Earth and to the dead,
For our past ills, I know, 'tis all too late,
But for the future, I may hope, will dawn
A better fortune! But 'tis now your part
In these our present ills, in counsel faithful
To commune with the Faithful; and my son,
Should he come here before me, comfort him,
And home escort him, lest he add fresh ill
To all these evils that we suffer now.
[Exit.
Chor.
O Zeus our king, who now to nothing
Hast brought the army of the Persians,
Multitudinous, greatly boasting;
And with gloomy woe hast shrouded
Both Ecbatana and Susa;
Many maidens now are tearing
With their tender hands their mantles,
Wet with drenching tears their bosoms,
In the common grief partaking;
And the brides of Persian warriors,
Dainty even in their wailing,
Longing for their new-wed husbands,
Reft of bridal couch luxurious,
With its coverlet so dainty,
Losing joy of wanton youth-time,
Mourn in never-sated wailings.
And I too in fullest measure
Raise again the cry of sorrow,
Weeping for the loved and lost ones.
Left desolate of men,
'Twas Xerxes led them forth, woe! woe!
'Twas Xerxes lost them all, woe! woe!
'Twas Xerxes who with evil counsels sped
Their course in sea-borne barques.
Why was Dareios erst so free from harm,
First bowman of the state,
The leader whom the men of Susa loved;
These ships, dark-hulled, well-rowed,
Their own ships bore them on, woe! woe!
Their own ships lost them all, woe! woe!
Their own ships, in disastrous onset urged,
And by Ionian hands?
The king himself, we hear, but hardly 'scapes
Through Thrakè's wide-spread steppes,
And paths o'er which the tempests wildly sweep.
Perforce unburied left, alas!
Are scattered round Kychreia's shore, woe! woe!
Lament, mourn sore, and raise a bitter cry,
Grievous, the sky to pierce, woe! woe!
Of loud and full lament.
Their carcases are gnawed, alas!
By the dumb brood of the pure sea, woe! woe!
And each house mourneth for its vanished lord;
And childless sires, woe! woe!
Mourning in age o'er griefs the Gods have sent,
Now hear their utter loss.
None now own the sway of Persia,
Nor bring they any more their tribute,
Owning sway of sovereign master.
Now low upon the Earth, laid prostrate,
Is the strength of our great monarch.
Tongues fast bound: for now the people
May with freedom speak at pleasure;
For the yoke of power is broken;
And blood-stained in all its meadows
The sea-washed isle of Aias holdeth
What was once the Persian army.
Atoss.
Whoe'er, my friends, is vexed in troublous times,
A man is wont to fear in everything;
But when Fate flows on smoothly, then to trust
That the same Fate will ever send fair gales.
So now all these disasters from the Gods
Seem in mine eyes filled full of fear and dread,
And in mine ears rings cry unjubilant,
So great a dread of all has seized my soul:
And therefore now, without or chariot's state
Or former pomp, have I thus issued forth
From out my palace, to my son's sire bringing
Libations loving, gifts propitiatory,
Meet for the dead; milk pure and white from cow
Unblemished, and bright honey that distils
From the flower-working bee, and water drawn
From virgin fountain, and the draught unstained
From a wild mother, fruit of ancient vine;
And here too of the tree that evermore
Keeps its fresh life in foliage, the pale olive,
Is the sweet-smelling fruit, and twinèd wreaths
Of flowers, the children of all-fertile Earth.
But ye, my friends, o'er these libations poured
In honour of the dead, chant forth your hymns,
And call upon Dareios as a God:
While I will send unto the Gods below
[Goes to the tomb of Dareios in the centre of the stage.
Chor.
Do thou libations pour
To the dark chambers of the dead below;
And we with hymns will pray
The Powers that act as escorts of the dead
To give us kindly help beneath the earth.
But oh, ye holy Ones in darkness dwelling,
Hermes and Earth, and thou, the Lord of Hell,
Send from beneath a soul
Up to the light of earth;
For should he know a cure for these our ills,
He, he alone of men, may tell the end.
The king, like Gods in power,
Hear me, as I send forth
My cries in barbarous speech,
Yet very clear to him,—
Sad, varied, broken cries
So as to tell aloud
Our troubles terrible?
Ah, does he hear below?
The other Lords of those
Grant that the godlike one
May come from out your home,
The Persians' mighty God,
In Susa's palace born;
Send him, I pray you, up,
The like of whom the soil
Of Persia never hid.
For dear the life it hides;
Aidoneus, O Aidoneus, send him forth,
Thou who dost lead the dead to Earth again,
Yea, send Dareios, even as he was!
Lose all his warrior-host,
But Heaven-taught Counsellor the Persians called him,
And Heaven-taught Counsellor in truth he proved,
Since he still ruled his host of subjects well.
Come to the summit of sepulchral mound,
Lifting thy foot encased
In slipper saffron-dyed,
And giving to our view
Thy royal tiara's crest:
Woes new and strange, our lord has now endured;
For on us now has fallen
A dark and Stygian mist,
Since all the armed youth
Has perished utterly;
Speak, O Dareios, faultless father, speak.
Bewail with many tears,
Why thus, O Lord of lords,
In double error of wild frenzy born,
Have all our triremes good
Been lost to this our land,
Ships that are ships no more, yea, ships no more?
The Ghost of Dareios appears on the summit of the mound.
Dar.
O faithful of the Faithful, ye who were
Companions of my youth, ye Persian elders,
What troubles is't my country toils beneath?
The whole plain groans, cut up and furrowed o'er,
And I, beholding now my queen beloved
And her libations graciously received;
But ye wail loud near this my sepulchre,
And shouting shrill with cries that raise the dead
Ye call me with your plaints. No easy task
Is it to come, for this cause above all,
That the great Gods who reign below are apter
To seize men than release: yet natheless I,
Being great in power among them, now am come.
Be quick then, that none blame me as too late;
What new dire evils on the Persians weigh?
Chor.
I fear to look on thee,
Fear before thee to speak,
With all the awe of thee I felt of old.
Dar.
But since I came by thy complaints persuaded,
From below rising, spin no lengthened tale;
But shortly, clearly speak, and tell thy story,
And leave awhile thine awe and dread of me.
Chor.
I dread thy wish to grant,
I dread to say thee nay,
Saying things that it is hard for friends to speak.
Dar.
Nay then, since that old dread of thine prevents thee,
Do thou [to Atossa]
the ancient partner of my bed,
My noble queen, from these thy plaints and moanings
May well on mortals fall; for many evils,
Some on the sea, and some on dry land also,
Happen to men if life be far prolonged.
Atoss.
O thou, who in the fate of fair good fortune
Excelled'st all men, who, while yet thou sawest
The sun's bright rays, did'st lead a life all blessed,
Admired, yea, worshipped as a God by Persians,
Now, too, I count thee blest in that thou died'st
Before thou saw'st the depth of these our evils.
For now, Dareios, thou shalt hear a tale
Full, yet in briefest moment. In a word,
The Persians' state is ruined utterly.
Dar.
How so? Hath plague or discord seized my country?
Atoss.
Not so, but all the host is lost at Athens.
Dar.
What son of mine led that host thither, tell me?
Atoss.
Xerxes the mighty, emptying all the mainland.
Dar.
Made he this mad attempt by land or sea?
Atoss.
By both; two lines there were of two great armies.
Dar.
How did so great a host effect its passage?
Atoss.
He bridged the straits of Helle, and found transit.
Dar.
Did he prevail to close the mighty Bosporos?
So was it; yet some God, it may be, helped him.
Dar.
Alas! some great God came and stole his wisdom.
Atoss.
Yea, the end shows what evil he accomplished.
Dar.
And how have they fared, that ye thus bewail them?
Atoss.
The naval host, o'ercome, destroyed the army.
Dar.
What! is the whole host by the spear laid low?
Atoss.
For this doth Susa's city mourn her losses.
Dar.
Alas, for that brave force and mighty army!
Atoss.
The Bactrians all are lost, not old men merely.
Dar.
Poor fool! how he hath lost the flower of forces!
Atoss.
Xerxes, they say, alone, with but few others. ...
Dar.
What is his end, and where? Is there no safety?
Atoss.
Is glad to gain the bridge that joins two mainlands.
Dar.
And has he reached this mainland? Is that known well?
Atoss.
Yea, the report holds good. Here is no discord.
Dar.
Ah me! Full swift the Oracles' fulfilment!
And on my son hath Zeus their end directed.
I hoped the Gods would work them out more slowly;
And now for all my friends a fount of evils
Seems to be found. And this my son, not knowing,
In youth's rash mood, hath wrought; for he did think
To curb the sacred Hellespont with fetters,
As though it were his slave, and sought to alter
The stream of God, full-flowing Bosporos,
And with his hammered chains around it cast,
Prevailed to make his mighty host a highway;
And though a mortal, thought, with no good counsel,
To master all the Gods, yea, e'en Poseidon.
Nay, was not my poor son oppressed with madness?
And much I fear lest all my heaped-up treasure
Become the spoil and prey of the first comer.
Atoss.
Such lessons haughty Xerxes hath been taught
By intercourse with men of evil mood:
Who say that thou great wealth for thy sons gained'st
By thy spear's might, while he in cowardice
Does his spear-work indoors, and nothing adds
Unto his father's glory. Such reproach
Hearing full oft from men of evil mood,
He planned this expedition against Hellas.
Dar.
Thus then a deed portentous hath been wrought,
Ever to be remembered, such as ne'er
Since Zeus our king ordained this dignity,
That one man should be lord of Asia's plains,
Where feed her thousand flocks, and hold the rod
Of sovran guidance: for the Median first
Ruled o'er the host, and then his son in turn
Finished the work, for reason steered his soul;
And Kyros came as third, full richly blest,
And ruled, and gained great peace for all his friends;
And he won o'er the Lydians and the Phrygians,
And conquered all the wide Ionian land;
For such his wisdom, he provoked not God.
And Kyros' son came fourth, and ruled the host;
And Mardos fifth held sway, his country's shame,
Shame to the ancient throne; and him with guile
Artaphrenes the brave smote down, close leagued
With men, his friends, to whom the work was given.
[Sixth, Maraphis and seventh Artaphrenes.]
And with a mighty host great victories won.
Yet no such evil brought I on the state;
But my son Xerxes, young, thinks like a youth,
And all my solemn charge remembers not;
For know this well, my old companions true,
That none of us who swayed the realm of old
Did e'er appear as working ills like these.
Chor.
What then, O King Dareios? To what end
Lead'st thou thy speech? And how, in this our plight,
Could we the Persian people prosper best?
Dar.
If ye no more attack the Hellenes' land,
E'en though the Median host outnumber theirs.
To them the land itself is true ally.
Chor.
What meanest thou? How fights the land for them?
Dar.
It slays with famine those vast multitudes.
Chor.
We then a host, select, compact, will raise.
Dar.
Nay, e'en the host which now in Hellas stays
Will ne'er return in peace and safety home.
Chor.
How say'st thou? Does not all the barbarous host
Cross from Europa o'er the straits of Hellè?
Dar.
But few of many; if 'tis meet for one
Who looks upon the things already done
To trust the oracles of Gods; for they,
And if this be so, then on vain hopes resting,
He leaves a chosen portion of his army:
And they abide where, watering all the plain
Asôpos pours his fertilising stream
Dear to Bœotian land; and there of ills
The topmost crown awaits them, penalty
Of wanton outrage and of godless thoughts;
For they to Hellas coming, held not back
In awe from plundering even fanes of Gods
And burning down their temples; and laid low
Are altars, and the shrines of Gods o'erthrown,
E'en from their base. They therefore having wrought
Deeds evil, now are suffering, and will suffer
Evil not less, and not as yet is seen
The deep foundation of the ills, but still
They grow up to completeness. Such a stream
Of blood and slaughter soon shall flow from them
By Dorian spear upon Platæan ground,
And heaps of corpses shall to children's children,
That mortal man should not wax overproud;
For wanton pride from blossom grows to fruit,
The full corn in the ear, of utter woe,
And reaps a tear-fraught harvest. Seeing then,
Such recompense of these things, cherish well
The memory of Athens and of Hellas;
Let no man in his scorn of present fortune,
And thirst for other, mar his good estate;
Zeus is the avenger of o'erlofty thoughts,
A terrible controller. Therefore now,
Since voice of God bids him be wise of heart,
Admonish him with counsel true and good
To cease his daring sacrilegious pride;
And thou, O Xerxes' mother, old and dear,
Go to thy home, and taking what apparel
Is fitting, go to meet thy son; for all
The costly robes around his limbs are torn
To rags and shreds in very agony.
But do thou kindly soothe his soul with words;
For he to thee alone will deign to hearken;
But I must leave the earth for darkness deep:
And ye, old men, farewell, although in woe,
And give your soul its daily bread of joy;
For to the dead no profit bringeth wealth.
[Exit, disappearing in the earth.
Chor.
I shudder as I hear the many woes
Both past and present that on Persians fall.
[O God, how many evils fall on me!
And yet this one woe biteth more than all,
Hearing my son's shame in the rags of robes
That clothe his limbs. But I will go and take
A fit adornment from my house, and try
To meet my son. We will not in his troubles
Basely abandon him whom most we love.]
Chor.
Stroph. I.
Had we as subjects once,
When our old king, Dareios, ruled the land,
Meeting all wants, dispassionate, supreme,
A monarch like a God.
And laws of tower-like strength
Directed all things; and our backward march
After our wars unhurt, unsuffering led
Our prospering armies home.
Not crossing Halys' stream
Nor issuing from his home,
There where in Strymon's sea,
Lie near the coasts of Thrakian colonies.
The cities girt with towers,
They hearkened to our king;
And those who boast their site
By Hellè's full, wide stream,
Propontis with its bays, and mouth of Pontos broad.
Facing the headland jutting in the sea,
Close bound to this our coast;
Lesbos, and Samos with its olive groves;
Chios and Paros too;
Naxos and Myconos, and Andros too
On Tenos bordering.
That lie midway between the continents,
Lemnos, Icaria's land;
Rhodos and Cnidos and the Kyprian towns,
And with them Soli famed,
Whose parent city now our groans doth cause;
Of Hellenes in the Ionian region dwelling,
He governed at his will;
His was the unconquered strength of warrior host,
Allies of mingled race.
And now, beyond all doubt,
In strife of war defeated utterly,
We find this high estate
Through wrath of God o'erturned
By bitter loss at sea.
Enter Xerxes in kingly apparel, but with his robes rent, with Attendants.
Xer.
Oh, miserable me!
Who this dark hateful doom
That I expected least
Have met with as my lot,
How stern and fierce of mood
Towards the Persian race
God has displayed himself!
What woe will come on me?
Gone is my strength of limb,
These aged men beholding.
That with the men who fell
Death's doom had covered me!
Chor.
Ah woe, O king, woe! woe!
For the army brave in fight,
And our goodly Persian name,
And the fair array of men,
Whom God hath now cut off!
And the land bewails its youth
Who for our Xerxes fell,
For him whose deeds have filled
Hades with Persian souls;
For many heroes now
Are Hades-travellers,
Our country's chosen flower,
Mighty with darts and bow;
For lo! the myriad mass
Of men has perished quite.
Woe, woe for our fair fame!
And Asia's land, O King,
Is terribly, most terribly, overthrown.
Xer.
I then, oh misery!
Have to my curse been proved
Sore evil to my country and my race.
Chor.
Yea, and on thy return
I will lift up my voice in wailing sore,
Cry of sore-troubled thought,
As of a mourner born
Lament of many tears.
Antistroph. I.
Xer.
Yea, utter ye a wail
Dreary and full of grief;
For lo! the face of Fate
Against me now is turned.
Chor.
Yea, I will raise a cry
Dreary and full of grief,
Giving this tribute due
To all the people's woes,
And all our loss at sea,
Troubles of this our State
That mourneth for her sons;
Yea, I will wail full sore,
With flood of bitter tears.
Stroph. II.
Xer.
For lo! our naval host,
Giving victory to our foes,
Has from Ionians, yea,
Ionians, suffered loss,
Leaving the dark sea's plain,
And that ill-omened shore,
Stripped of its strength for war.
Chor.
Yea, wail, search out the whole;
Where are our other friends?
Where thy companions true,
Such as Pharandakes,
Agdabatas, Susiskanes
From Ecbatana who started?
Antistroph. II.
Xer.
I left them low in death,
Falling from Tyrian ship,
On Salaminian shores,
Beating now here, now there,
On the hard rock-girt coast.
Chor.
Ah, where Pharnuchos then,
And Ariomardos brave?
And where Sevalkes king,
Lilæos proud of race,
Memphis and Tharybis,
Masistras, and Artembares,
Hystæchmas? This I ask.
Stroph. III.
Xer.
Woe! woe is me!
They have looked on at Athens' ancient towers,
Her hated towers, ah me!
All, as by one fell stroke,
Unhappy in their fate
Lie gasping on the shore.
Chor.
And he, thy faithful Eye,
Who told the Persian host,
Myriads on myriads o'er,
Of Batanôchos old,
[OMITTED]
And the son of brave Sesames,
Son himself of Megabates.
Parthos, and the great Œbares,
Did'st thou leave them, did'st thou leave them?
Ah, woe! ah, woe is me,
For those unhappy ones!
Thou to the Persians brave
Tellest of ills on ills.
Antistroph. III.
Xer.
Ah, thou dost wake in me
The memory of the spell of yearning love
For comrades brave and true,
Telling of cursed ills,
Yea, cursed, hateful doom;
And lo, within my frame
My heart cries out, cries out.
Chor.
Yea, another too we long for,
Xanthes, captain of ten thousand
Mardian warriors, and Anchares
Arian born, and great Arsakes
And Diæxis, lords of horsemen,
Kigdagatas and Lythimnas,
Tolmos, longing for the battle:
For they come not, as the rear-guard
Of thy tent on chariot mounted.
Stroph. IV.
Xer.
Gone those rulers of the army.
Chor.
Gone are they in death inglorious.
Xer.
Ah woe! ah woe! Alas! alas!
Chor.
Ah! the Gods have sent upon us
Ill we never thought to look on,
Conspicuous like to which in sorrow
Ne'er hath Atè seen another.
Antistroph. IV.
Xer.
Smitten we by many sorrows
Such as come on men but seldom.
Chor.
Smitten we, 'tis all too certain.
Xer.
Fresh woes! fresh woes! ah me!
Chor.
Now with adverse turn of fortune,
With Ionian seamen meeting,
Fails in war the race of Persians.
Stroph. V.
Xer.
Too true. Yea I and that vast host of mine
Are smitten down.
Chor.
Too true—the Persians' majesty and might
Have perished utterly.
See'st thou this remnant of my armament?
Chor.
I see it, yea, I see.
Xer.
(pointing to his quiver.)
Chor.
What speak'st thou of as saved?
Xer.
This treasure-store for darts.
Chor.
Few, few of many left!
Xer.
Thus we all helpers lack.
Chor.
Ionian soldiers flee not from the spear.
Antistroph. V.
Xer.
Yea, very brave are they, and I have seen
Unlooked-for woe.
Chor.
Wilt tell of squadron of our sea-borne ships
Defeated utterly?
Xer.
I tore my robes at this calamity.
Chor.
Ah me, ah me, ah me!
Xer.
Ay, more than all ‘ah me's’!
Chor.
Two-fold and three-fold ills!
Xer.
Grievous to us—but joy,
Great joy, to all our foes!
Chor.
Lopped off is all our strength.
Xer.
Stripped bare of escort I!
Chor.
Yea, by sore loss at sea
Disastrous to thy friends.
Stroph. VI.
Xer.
Weep for our sorrow, weep,
Yea, go ye to the house.
Chor.
Woe for our griefs, woe, woe!
Cry out an echoing cry.
Chor.
Ill gift of ills on ills.
Xer.
Weep on in wailing chant.
Chor.
Oh! ah! Oh! ah!
Xer.
Grievous our bitter woes.
Chor.
Ah me, I mourn them sore.
Antistroph. VI.
Xer.
Ply, ply your hands and groan;
Yea, for my sake bewail.
Chor.
I weep in bitter grief.
Xer.
Cry out an echoing cry.
Chor.
Yea, we may raise our voice,
O Lord and King, in wail.
Xer.
Raise now shrill cry of woe.
Chor.
Ah me! Ah! Woe is me!
Xer.
Yea, with it mingle dark. ...
Chor.
And bitter, grievous blows.
Stroph. VII.
Xer.
Yea, beat thy breast, and cry
After the Mysian type.
Chor.
Oh, misery! oh, misery!
Xer.
Yea, tear the white hair off thy flowing beard.
Chor.
Yea; with clenched hands, with clenchèd hands, I say,
In very piteous guise.
Xer.
Cry out, cry out aloud.
Chor.
That also will I do.
Xer.
And with thy fingers tear
Thy bosom's folded robe.
Chor.
Oh, misery! oh, misery!
Xer.
Yea, tear thy hair in wailing for our host.
Chor.
Yea, with clenched hands, I say, with clenchèd hands,
In very piteous guise.
Xer.
Be thine eyes wet with tears.
Chor.
Behold the tears stream down.
Epode.
Xer.
Raise a re-echoing cry.
Chor.
Ah woe! ah woe!
Xer.
Go to thy home with wailing loud and long.
Chor.
O land of Persia, full of lamentations!
Xer.
Through the town raise your cries.
Chor.
We raise them, yea, we raise.
Xer.
Wail, wail, ye men that walked so daintily.
Chor.
O land of Persia, full of lamentations!
Woe! woe!
Xer.
Alas for those who in the triremes perished!
Chor.
With piteous words of woe will I escort thee.
[Exeunt in procession, wailing, and rending their robes.
“The Faithful,” or “trusty,” seems to have been a special title of honour given to the veteran councillors of the king, (Xenoph. Anab. i. 15,) just as that of the “Immortals” was chosen for his body-guard, (Herod. vii. 83.)
Susa was pre-eminently the treasury of the Persian kings (Herod. v. 49; Strabo. xv. p. 731), their favourite residence in spring, as Ecbatana in Media was in summer and Babylon in winter.
Kissia was properly the name of the district in which Susa stood; but here, and in v. 123, it is treated as if it belonged to a separate city. Throughout the play there is, indeed, a lavish use of Persian barbaric names of persons and places, without a very minute regard to historical accuracy.
Here, as in Herodotos and Greek writers generally, the title, “the King,” or “the great King,” was enough. It could be understood only of the Persian. The latter name had been borne by the kings of Assyria. (2 Kings xviii. 28.) A little later it passed into the fuller, more boastful form of “the King of kings.”
The inhabitants of the Delta of the Nile, especially those of the marshy districts near the Heracleotic mouth, were famed as supplying the best and bravest soldiers of any part of Egypt.—Comp. Thucyd. i. 110.
The epithet was applied probably by Æschylos to the Lydians properly so called, the barbaric race with whom the Hellenes had little or nothing in common. They in dress, diet, mode of life, their distaste for the contents of the arena, seemed to the Greeks the very type of effeminacy. The Ionian Greeks, however, were brought under the same influence, and gradually acquired the same character. The suppression of the name of the Ionians in the list of the Persian forces, may be noticed as characteristic. The Athenian poet would not bring before an Athenian audience the shame of their Asiatic kinsmen.
“Spear-anvils,” sc., meeting the spear of their foes as the anvils would meet it, turning its point, themselves steadfast and immovable.
So Herodotos (vii. 74) in his account of the army of Xerxes describes the Mysians as using for their weapons those darts or “javelins” made by hardening the ends in the fire.
Helle the daughter of Athamas, from whom the Hellespont took its name. For the description of the pontoons formed by boats, which were moored together with cables and finally covered with faggots, comp. Herod. vii. 36.
Syrian, either in the vague sense in which it became almost synonymous with Assyrian, or else showing that Syria, properly so called, retained the fame for chariots which it had had at a period as early as the time of the Herbrew Judges, (Judg. v. 3.) Herodotos (vii. 140) gives an Oracle of Delphi in which the same epithet appears.
The description, though put into the mouth of Persians, is meant to flatter Hellenic pride. The Persians and their army were for the most part light-armed troops only, barbarians equipped with javelins or bows. In the sculptures of Persepolis, as in those of Nineveh and Khorsabad, this mode of warfare is throughout the most conspicuous. They, the Hellenes, were the hoplites, warriors of the spear and the shield, the cuirass and the greaves.
A touch of Athenian exultation in their life as seamen. To them the sea was almost a home. They were familiar with it from childhood. To the Persians it was new and untried. They had a new lesson to learn, late in the history of the nation, late in the lives of individual soldiers.
The bridge of boats, with the embankment raised upon it, is thought of as a new headland putting out from the one shore and reaching to the other.
Stress is laid by the Hellenic poet, as in the Agamemnon, (v. 895,) and in v. 707 of this Play, on the tendency of the East to give to its kings the names and the signs of homage which were due only to the Gods. The Hellenes might deify a dead hero, but not a living sovereign. On different grounds the Jews shrank, as in the stories of Nebuchadnezzar and Dareios, (Dan. iii. 6,) from all such acts.
In the Greek, as in the translation, there is a change of metre, intended apparently to represent the transition from the tone of eager excitement to the ordinary level of discourse.
With reference either to the mythos that Asia and Europe were both daughters of Okeanos, or to the historical fact that the Asiatic Ionians and the Dorians of Europe were both of the same Hellenic stock. The contrast between the long flowing robes of the Asiatic women, and the short, scanty kilt-like dress of those of Sparta must be borne in mind if we would see the picture in its completeness.
Athenian pride is flattered with the thought that they had resisted while the Ionian Greeks had submitted all too willingly to the yoke of the Barbarian.
Lustrations of this kind, besides their general significance in cleansing from defilement, had a special force as charms to turn aside dangers threatened by foreboding dreams.—Comp. Aristoph. Frogs, v. 1264; Persius, Sat. ii. 16.
The political bearing of the passage as contrasting this characteristic of the despotism of Persia with the strict account to which all Athenian generals were subject, is, of course, unmistakable.
The question, which seems to have rankled in the minds of the Athenians, is recorded as an historical fact, and put into the mouth of Dareios by Herodotos, (v. 101.) He had asked it on hearing that Sardis had been attacked and burnt by them.
The words point to the silver mines at Laureion, which had been worked under Peisistratos, and of which this is the first mention in Greek literature.
Once more the contrast between the Greek hoplite and the light-armed archers of the invaders, is dwelt upon. The next answer of the Chorus dwells upon the deeper contrast, then prominent in the minds of all Athenians, between their democratic freedom and the despotism of Persia.
The system of postal communications by means of couriers which Dareios had organised had made their speed in running proverbial, (Herod. viii. 97.)
With the characteristic contempt of a Greek for other races, Æschylos makes the Persians speak of themselves throughout as ‘barbarians,’ ‘barbaric.’
Possibly Salamis itself, as famed for the doves which were reared there as sacred to Aphrodite, but possibly also one of the smaller islands in the Saronic gulf, which the epithet would be enough to designate for an Athenian audience.
As regards the number of the Persian ships, 1000 of average, and 207 of special swiftness, Æschylos agrees with Herodotos, who gives the total of 1207. The latter, however, reckons the Greek ships not at 310, but 378, (vii. 89.)
The fact that Athens had actually been taken, and its chief buildings plundered and laid waste, was, of course, not a pleasant one for the poet to dwell on. It could hardly, however, be entirely passed over, and this is the one allusion to it. In the truest sense it was still “unsacked:” it had not lost its most effective defence, its most precious treasure.
As the story is told by Herodotos, (viii. 75,) this was Sikinnos, the slave of Themistocles, and the stratagem was the device of that commander to save the Greeks from the disgrace and ruin of a sauve qui peut fight in all directions.
The Greeks never beheaded their criminals, and the punishment is mentioned as being specially characteristic of the barbaric Persians.
The Æginetans and Megarians, according to the account preserved by Diodoros, (xi. 18,) or the Lacedæmonians, according to Herodotos, (viii. 65.)
This may be meant to refer to the achievements of Ameinias of Pallene, who appears in the traditional life of Æschylos as his youngest brother.
Tunny-fishing has always been prominent in the occupations of the Mediterranean coasts, and the sailors who formed so large a part of every Athenian audience would be familiar with the process here described, of striking or harpooning them. Aristophanes (Wasps, 1087) coins (or uses) the word “to tunny,” (θυνναζω), to express the act. Comp. Herod. i. 62.
Sc., Psyttaleia, lying between Salamis and the mainland. Pausanias (i. 36–82) describes it in his time as having no artistic shrine or statue, but full everywhere of roughly-carved images of Pan, to whom the island was sacred. It lay just opposite the entrance to the Peiræos. The connexion of Pan with Salamis and its adjacent islands seems implied in Sophocles, Aias. 695.
The manœuvre was, we learn from Herodotos (viii. 95), the work of Aristeides, the personal friend of Æschylos, and the statesman with whose policy he had most sympathy.
The lines are noted as probably a spurious addition, by a weaker hand, to the text, as introducing surplusage, as inconsistent with Herodotos, and as faulty in their metrical structure.
No trace of this passage over the frozen Strymon appears in Herodotos, who leaves the reader to imagine that it was crossed, as before, by a bridge. It is hardly, indeed, consistent with dramatic probability that the courier should have remained to watch the whole retreat of the defeated army; and on this and other grounds, the latter part of the speech has been rejected by some critics as a later addition.
The ritual described is Hellenic rather than Persian, and takes its place (Soph. Electr. 836; Eurip. Iphig. Taur. 583; Homer, Il. xxiii. 219), as showing what offerings were employed to soothe or call up the spirits of the dead. Comp. Pliny, Hist. Nat. xxx.
The description obviously gives the state dress of the Persian kings. They alone wore the tiara erect.—Xen. Kyrop. viii. 3, 13.
Either that he has heard the measured tread of the mourners round his tomb, as they went wailing round and round, or that he has heard the rush of armies, and seen the plain tracked by chariot-wheels, and comes, not knowing all things, to learn what it means.
The words point to the wide-spread belief that when the souls of the dead were permitted to return to earth, it was with strict limitations as to the time of their leave of absence.
As Herodotos (viii. 117) tells the story, the bridge had been broken by tempest before Xerxes reached it.
Probably Mardonios and Onomacritos the Athenian soothsayer are referred to, who, according to Herodotos (vii. 6, viii. 99) were the chief instigators of the expedition.
Astyages, the father-in-law of Kyaxares and grandfather of Kyros. In this case Æschylos must be supposed to accept Xenophon's statement that Kyaxares succeeded Astyages. Possibly, however, the Median may be Kyaxares I., the father of Astyages, and so the succession here would harmonise with that of Herodotos. The whole succession must be looked on as embodying the loose, floating notions of the Athenians as to the history of their great enemy, rather than as the result of inquiry.
Stress is laid on the violence to which the Asiatic Ionians had succumbed, and their resistance to which distinguished them from the Lydians or Phrygians, whose submission had been voluntary.
Mardos. Under this name we recognise the Pseudo-Smerdis of Herodotos, (iii. 67,) who, by restoring the dominion of the Median Magi, the caste to which he himself belonged, brought shame upon the Persians.
Possibly another form of Intaphernes, who appears in Herodotos (iii 70) as one of the seven conspirators against the Magian Pseudo-Smerdis.
The force of 300,000 left in Greece under Mardonios, (Herod. viii. 113,) afterwards defeated at Platæa.
This was of course a popular topic with the Athenians, whose own temples had been outraged. But other sanctuaries also, the temples at Delphi and Abæ had shared the same fate, and these sins against the Gods of Hellas were naturally connected in the thoughts of the Greeks with the subsequent disasters of the Persians. In Egypt these outrages had an iconoclastic character. In Athens they were a retaliation for the destruction of the temple at Sardis, (Herod. v. 102.)
The reference to the prominent part taken by the Peloponnesian forces in the battle of Platææ is probably due to the political sympathies of the dramatist.
Apparently an allusion to the oracle given to Crœsos, that he, if he crossed the Halys, should destroy a great kingdom.
The name originally given to the Echinades, a group of islands at the mouth of the Acheloös, was applied generically to all islands lying near the mouth of great rivers, and here, probably, includes Imbros, Thasos, and Samothrakè.
The geography is somewhat obscure, but the words seem to refer to the portion of the islands that are named as opposite (in a southerly direction) to the promontory of the Troad.
Salamis in Kypros had been colonised by Teukros the son of Aias, and had received its name in remembrance of the island in the Saronic Gulf.
The name seems to have been an official title for some Inspector-General of the Army. Comp. Aristoph. Acharn. v. 92.
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