And when the fruit is ripe for love, the voice
Of Aphrodite bruiteth it abroad,
The while she guards the yet unripened growth.
Of Aphrodite bruiteth it abroad,
The while she guards the yet unripened growth.
Aeschylus
Thence, by the gadfly maddened, forth she flies
Unto far lands and alien peoples driven
And, following fate, through paths of foam and surge,
Sees, as she goes, the cleaving strait divide
Greece, from the Eastland riven.
And swift through Asian borders doth she urge
Her course, o'er Phrygian mountains' sheep-clipt side;
Thence, where the Mysian realm of Teuthras lies
Towards Lydian lowlands hies,
And o'er Cilician and Pamphylian hills
And ever-flowing rills,
And thence to Aphrodite's fertile shore, [5]
[Footnote: 5: Cyprus. ]
The land of garnered wheat and wealthy store
And thence, deep-stung by wild unrest,
By the winged fly that goaded her and drave,
Unto the fertile land, the god-possest,
(Where, fed from far-off snows,
Life-giving Nilus flows,
Urged on by Typho's strength, a fertilizing wave)
She roves, in harassed and dishonoured flight
Scathed by the blasting pangs of Hera's dread despite.
And they within the land
With terror shook and wanned,
So strange the sight they saw, and were afraid--
A wild twy-natured thing, half heifer and half maid.
Whose hand was laid at last on Io, thus forlorn,
With many roamings worn?
Who bade the harassed maiden's peace return?
Zeus, lord of time eterne.
Yea, by his breath divine, by his unscathing strength,
She lays aside her bane,
And softened back to womanhood at length
Sheds human tears again.
Then, quickened with Zeus' veritable seed,
A progeny she bare,
A stainless babe, a child of heavenly breed.
Of life and fortune fair.
_His is the life of life_--so all men say,--
_His is the seed of Zeus.
Who else had power stern Hera's craft to stay,
Her vengeful curse to loose_?
Yea, all from Zeus befell!
And rightly wouldst thou tell
That we from Epaphus, his child, were born:
Justly his deed was done;
Unto what other one,
Of all the gods, should I for justice turn?
From him our race did spring;
Creator he and King,
Ancient of days and wisdom he, and might.
As bark before the wind,
So, wafted by his mind,
Moves every counsel, each device aright.
Beneath no stronger hand
Holds he a weak command,
No throne doth he abase him to adore;
Swift as a word, his deed
Acts out what stands decreed
In counsels of his heart, for evermore.
[_Re-enter_ DANAUS.
DANAUS
Take heart, my children: the land's heart is kind,
And to full issue has their voting come.
CHORUS
All hail, my sire; thy word brings utmost joy.
Say, to what issue is the vote made sure,
And how prevailed the people's crowding hands?
DANAUS
With one assent the Argives spake their will,
And, hearing, my old heart took youthful cheer,
The very sky was thrilled when high in air
The concourse raised right hands and swore their oath:--
_Free shall the maidens sojourn in this land.
Unharried, undespoiled by mortal wight:
No native hand, no hand of foreigner
Shall drag them hence; if any man use force--
Whoe'er of all our countrymen shall fail
To come unto their aid, let him go forth,
Beneath the people's curse, to banishment_.
So did the king of this Pelasgian folk
Plead on behalf of us, and bade them heed
That never, in the after-time, this realm
Should feed to fulness the great enmity
Of Zeus, the suppliants' guard, against itself!
A twofold curse, for wronging stranger-guests
Who are akin withal, confrontingly
Should rise before this city and be shown
A ruthless monster, fed on human doom.
Such things the Argive people heard, and straight,
Without proclaim of herald, gave assent:
Yea, in full conclave, the Pelasgian folk
Heard suasive pleas, and Zeus through them resolved.
CHORUS
Arouse we now to chant our prayer
For fair return of service fair
And Argos' kindly will.
Zeus, lord of guestright, look upon
The grace our stranger lips have won.
In right and truth, as they begun,
Guide them, with favouring hand, until
Thou dost their blameless wish fulfil!
Now may the Zeus-born gods on high
Hear us pour forth
A votive prayer for Argos' clan! --
Never may this Pelasgian earth,
Amid the fire-wrack, shrill the dismal cry
On Ares, ravening lord of fight,
Who in an alien harvest mows down man!
For lo, this land had pity on our plight,
And unto us were merciful and leal,
To us, the piteous flock, who at Zeus' altar kneel!
They scorned not the pleas of maidenhood,
Nor with the young men's will hath their will stood.
They knew right well.
Th' unearthly watching fiend invincible,
The foul avenger--let him not draw near!
For he, on roofs ill-starred,
Defiling and polluting, keeps a ghastly ward!
They knew his vengeance, and took holy heed
To us, the sister suppliants, who cry
To Zeus, the lord of purity:
Therefore with altars pure they shall the gods revere.
Thus, through the boughs that shade our lips, fly forth in air,
Fly forth, O eager prayer!
May never pestilence efface
This city's race,
Nor be the land with corpses strewed,
Nor stained with civic blood!
The stem of youth, unpluckt, to manhood come,
Nor Ares rise from Aphrodite's bower,
The lord of death and bane, to waste our youthful flower.
Long may the old
Crowd to the altars kindled to consume
Gifts rich and manifold--
Offered to win from powers divine
A benison on city and on shrine:
Let all the sacred might adore
Of Zeus most high, the lord
Of guestright and the hospitable board,
Whose immemorial law doth rule Fate's scales aright:
The garners of earth's store
Be full for evermore,
And grace of Artemis make women's travail light;
No devastating curse of fell disease
This city seize;
No clamour of the State arouse to war
Ares, from whom afar
Shrinketh the lute, by whom the dances fail--
Ares, the lord of wail.
Swarm far aloof from Argos' citizens
All plague and pestilence,
And may the Archer-God our children spare!
May Zeus with foison and with fruitfulness
The land's each season bless,
And, quickened with Heaven's bounty manifold,
Teem grazing flock and fold.
Beside the altars of Heaven's hallowing
Loud let the minstrels sing,
And from pure lips float forth the harp-led strain in air!
And let the people's voice, the power
That sways the State, in danger's hour
Be wary, wise for all;
Nor honour in dishonour hold,
But--ere the voice of war be bold--
Let them to stranger peoples grant
Fair and unbloody covenant--
Justice and peace withal;
And to the Argive powers divine
The sacrifice of laurelled kine,
By rite ancestral, pay.
Among three words of power and awe,
Stands this, the third, the mighty law--
_Your gods, your fathers deified,
Ye shall adore_. Let this abide
For ever and for aye.
DANAUS
Dear children, well and wisely have ye prayed;
I bid you now not shudder, though ye hear
New and alarming tidings from your sire.
From this high place beside the suppliants' shrine
The bark of our pursuers I behold,
By divers tokens recognized too well.
Lo, the spread canvas and the hides that screen
The gunwale; lo, the prow, with painted eyes
That seem her onward pathway to descry,
Heeding too well the rudder at the stern
That rules her, coming for no friendly end.
And look, the seamen--all too plain their race--
Their dark limbs gleam from out their snow-white garb;
Plain too the other barks, a fleet that comes
All swift to aid the purpose of the first,
That now, with furled sail and with pulse of oars
Which smite the wave together, comes aland.
But ye, be calm, and, schooled not scared by fear,
Confront this chance, be mindful of your trust
In these protecting gods. And I will hence,
And champions who shall plead your cause aright
Will bring unto your side. There come perchance
Heralds or envoys, eager to lay hand
And drag you captive hence; yet fear them not;
Foiled shall they be. Yet well it were for you
(If, ere with aid I come, I tarry long),
Not by one step this sanctuary to leave.
Farewell, fear nought: soon shall the hour be born
When he that scorns the gods shall rue his scorn
CHORUS
Ah but I shudder, father! --ah, even now,
Even as I speak, the swift-winged ships draw nigh!
I shudder, I shiver, I perish with fear:
Overseas though I fled,
Yet nought it avails; my pursuers are near!
DANAUS
Children, take heart; they who decreed to aid
Thy cause will arm for battle, well I ween.
CHORUS
But desperate is Aegyptus' ravening race,
With fight unsated; thou too know'st it well.
In their wrath they o'ertake us; the prow is deep-dark
In the which they have sped,
And dark is the bench and the crew of the bark!
DANAUS
Yea but a crew as stout they here shall find,
And arms well steeled beneath a noon-day sun.
CHORUS
Ah yet, O father, leave us not forlorn!
Alone, a maid is nought, a strengthless arm.
With guile they Pursue me, with counsel malign,
And unholy their soul;
And as ravens they seize me, unheeding the shrine!
DANAUS
Fair will befall us, children, in this chance,
If thus in wrath they wrong the gods and you.
CHORUS
Alas, nor tridents nor the sanctity
Of shrines will drive them, O my sire, from us!
Unholy and daring and cursed is their ire,
Nor own they control
Of the gods, but like jackals they glut their desire!
DANAUS
Ay, but _Come wolf, flee jackal_, saith the saw;
Nor can the flax-plant overbear the corn.
CHORUS
Lustful, accursed, monstrous is their will
As of beasts ravening--'ware we of their power!
DANAUS
Look you, not swiftly puts a fleet to sea,
Nor swiftly to its moorings; long it is
Or e'er the saving cables to the shore
Are borne, and long or e'er the steersmen cry,
_The good ship swings at anchor--all is well_.
Longest of all, the task to come aland
Where haven there is none, when sunset fades
In night. _To pilot wise_, the adage saith,
_Night is a day of wakefulness and pain_.
Therefore no force of weaponed men, as yet
Scatheless can come ashore, before the bank
Lie at her anchorage securely moored.
Bethink thee therefore, nor in panic leave
The shrine of gods whose succour thou hast won
I go for aid--men shall not blame me long,
Old, but with youth at heart and on my tongue
[_Exit_ DANAUS.
CHORUS
O land of hill and dale, O holy land,
What shall befall us? whither shall we flee,
From Apian land to some dark lair of earth?
O would that in vapour of smoke I might rise to the
clouds of the sky,
That as dust which flits up without wings I might pass
and evanish and die!
I dare not, I dare not abide: my heart yearns, eager
to fly;
And dark is the cast of my thought; I shudder and
tremble for fear.
My father looked forth and beheld: I die of the sight
that draws near.
And for me be the strangling cord, the halter made
ready by Fate,
Before to my body draws nigh the man of my horror
and hate.
Nay, ere I will own him as lord, as handmaid to
Hades I go!
And oh, that aloft in the sky, where the dark clouds
are frozen to snow,
A refuge for me might be found, or a mountain-top
smooth and too high
For the foot of the goat, where the vulture sits lonely,
and none may descry
The pinnacle veiled in the cloud,
the highest and sheerest of all,
Ere to wedlock that rendeth my heart,
and love that is loveless, I fall!
Yea, a prey to the dogs and the birds of the mount
will I give me to be,--
From wailing and curse and pollution it is death,
only death, sets me free:
Let death come upon me before
to the ravisher's bed I am thrust;
What champion, what saviour but death can I find,
or what refuge from lust?
I will utter my shriek of entreaty,
a prayer that shrills up to the sky,
That calleth the gods to compassion,
a tuneful, a pitiful cry,
That is loud to invoke the releaser.
O father, look down on the fight;
Look down in thy wrath on the wronger,
with eyes that are eager for right.
Zeus, thou that art lord of the world,
whose kingdom is strong over all,
Have mercy on us! At thine altar for refuge
and safety we call.
For the race of Aegyptus is fierce,
with greed and with malice afire;
They cry as the questing hounds,
they sweep with the speed of desire.
But thine is the balance of fate,
thou rulest the wavering scale,
And without thee no mortal emprise
shall have strength to achieve or prevail.
Alack, alack! the ravisher--
He leaps from boat to beach, he draweth near!
Away, thou plunderer accurst!
Death seize thee first,
Or e'er thou touch me--off! God, hear our cry,
Our maiden agony!
Ah, ah, the touch, the prelude of my shame.
Alas, my maiden fame!
O sister, sister, to the altar cling,
For he that seizeth me,
Grim is his wrath and stern, by land as on the sea.
Guard us, O king!
[_Enter the_ HERALD OF AEGYPTUS]
HERALD OF AEGYPTUS
Hence to my barge--step swiftly, tarry not.
CHORUS
Alack, he rends--he rends my hair! O wound on
wound!
Help! my lopped head will fall, my blood gush o'er
the ground!
HERALD OF AEGYPTUS
Aboard, ye cursed--with a new curse, go!
CHORUS
Would God that on the wand'ring brine
Thou and this braggart tongue of thine
Had sunk beneath the main--
Thy mast and planks, made fast in vain!
Thee would I drive aboard once more,
A slayer and a dastard, from the shore!
HERALD OF AEGYPTUS
Be still, thou vain demented soul;
My force thy craving shall control.
Away, aboard! What, clingest to the shrine?
Away! this city's gods I hold not for divine.
CHORUS
Aid me, ye gods, that never, never
I may again behold
The mighty, the life-giving river,
Nilus, the quickener of field and fold!
Alack, O sire, unto the shrine I cling--
Shrine of this land from which mine ancient line did spring!
HERALD OF AEGYPTUS
Shrines, shrines, forsooth! --the ship, the ship be shrine!
Aboard, perforce and will-ye nill-ye, go!
Or e'er from hands of mine
Ye suffer torments worse and blow on blow.
CHORUS
Alack, God grant those hands may strive in vain
With the salt-streaming wave,
When 'gainst the wide-blown blasts thy bark shall strain
To round Sarpedon's cape, the sandbank's treach'rous grave.
HERALD OF AEGYPTUS
Shrill ye and shriek unto what gods ye may,
Ye shall not leap from out Aegyptus' bark,
How bitterly soe'er ye wail your woe.
CHORUS
Alack, alack my wrong!
Stern is thy voice, thy vaunting loud and strong.
Thy sire, the mighty Nilus, drive thee hence
Turning to death and doom thy greedy violence!
HERALD OF AEGYPTUS
Swift to the vessel of the double prow,
Go quickly! let none linger, else this hand
Ruthless will hale you by your tresses hence.
CHORUS
Alack, O father! from the shrine
Not aid but agony is mine.
As a spider he creeps and he clutches his prey,
And he hales me away.
A spectre of darkness, of darkness. Alas and alas! well-a-day!
O Earth, O my mother! O Zeus, thou king of the earth, and her child!
Turn back, we pray thee, from us his clamour and threatenings wild!
HERALD OF AEGYPTUS
Peace! I fear not this country's deities.
They fostered not my childhood nor mine age.
CHORUS
Like a snake that is human he comes,
he shudders and crawls to my side;
As an adder that biteth the foot,
his clutch on my flesh doth abide.
O Earth, O my mother! O Zeus, thou king of the earth,
and her child!
Turn back, we pray thee, from us his clamour
and threatenings wild!
HERALD OF AEGYPTUS
Swift each unto the ship; repine no more,
Or my hand shall not spare to rend your robe.
CHORUS
O chiefs, O leaders, aid me, or I yield!
HERALD OF AEGYPTUS
Peace! if ye have not ears to hear my words,
Lo, by these tresses must I hale you hence.
CHORUS
Undone we are, O king! all hope is gone.
HERALD OF AEGYPTUS
Ay, kings enow ye shall behold anon,
Aegyptus' sons--Ye shall not want for kings.
[_Enter the_ KING OF ARGOS.
THE KING OF ARGOS
Sirrah, what dost thou? in what arrogance
Darest thou thus insult Pelasgia's realm?
Deemest thou this a woman-hearted town?
Thou art too full of thy barbarian scorn
For us of Grecian blood, and, erring thus,
Thou dost bewray thyself a fool in all!
HERALD OF AEGYPTUS
Say thou wherein my deeds transgress my right.
THE KING OF ARGOS
First, that thou play'st a stranger's part amiss.
HERALD OF AEGYPTUS
Wherein? I do but search and claim mine own.
THE KING OF ARGOS
To whom of our guest-champions hast appealed?
HERALD OF AEGYPTUS
To Hermes, herald's champion, lord of search.
THE KING OF ARGOS
Yea, to a god--yet dost thou wrong the gods!
HERALD OF AEGYPTUS
The gods that rule by Nilus I revere.
THE KING OF ARGOS
Hear I aright? our Argive gods are nought?
HERALD OF AEGYPTUS
The prey is mine, unless force rend it from me.
THE KING OF ARGOS
At thine own peril touch them--'ware, and soon!
HERALD OF AEGYPTUS
I hear thy speech, no hospitable word.
THE KING OF ARGOS
I am no host for sacrilegious hands.
HERALD OF AEGYPTUS
I will go tell this to Aegyptus' sons.
THE KING OF ARGOS
Tell it! my pride will ponder not thy word.
HERALD OF AEGYPTUS
Yet, that I have my message clear to say
(For it behooves that heralds' words be clear,
Be they or ill or good), how art thou named?
By whom despoiled of this sister-band
Of maidens pass I homeward? --speak and say!
For lo, henceforth in Ares' court we stand,
Who judges not by witness but by war:
No pledge of silver now can bring the cause
To issue: ere this thing end, there must be
Corpse piled on corpse and many lives gasped forth.
THE KING OF ARGOS
What skills it that I tell my name to thee?
Thou and thy mates shall learn it ere the end.
Know that if words unstained by violence
Can change these maidens' choice, then mayest thou,
With full consent of theirs, conduct them hence.
But thus the city with one voice ordained--
_No force shall bear away the maiden band_.
Firmly this word upon the temple wall
Is by a rivet clenched, and shall abide:
Not upon wax inscribed and delible,
Nor upon parchment sealed and stored away. --
Lo, thou hast heard our free mouths speak their will:
Out from our presence--tarry not, but go!
HERALD OF AEGYPTUS
Methinks we stand on some new edge of war:
Be strength and triumph on the young men's side!
THE KING OF ARGOS
Nay but here also shall ye find young men,
Unsodden with the juices oozed from grain. [6]
[_Exit_ HERALD OF AEGYPTUS
But ye, O maids, with your attendants true,
Pass hence with trust into the fenced town,
Ringed with a wide confine of guarding towers.
Therein are many dwellings for such guests
As the State honours; there myself am housed
Within a palace neither scant nor strait.
There dwell ye, if ye will to lodge at ease
In halls well-thronged: yet, if your soul prefer,
Tarry secluded in a separate home.
Choose ye and cull, from these our proffered gifts,
Whiche'er is best and sweetest to your will:
And I and all these citizens whose vote
Stands thus decreed, will your protectors be.
Look not to find elsewhere more loyal guard.
[Footnote: 6: For this curious taunt, strongly illustrative of what
Browning calls "nationality in drinks," see Herodotus, ii. 77. A
similar feeling may perhaps be traced in Tacitus' description of the
national beverage of the Germans: "Potui humor ex hordeo aut frumento,
_in quandam similitudinem vini corruptus_" (_Germania_, chap, xxiii). ]
CHORUS
O godlike chief, God grant my prayer:
_Fair blessings on thy proffers fair,
Lord of Pelasgia's race_!
Yet, of thy grace, unto our side
Send thou the man of courage tried,
Of counsel deep and prudent thought,--
Be Danaus to his children brought;
For his it is to guide us well
And warn where it behoves to dwell--
What place shall guard and shelter us
From malice and tongues slanderous:
Swift always are the lips of blame
A stranger-maiden to defame--
But Fortune give us grace!
THE KING OF ARGOS
A stainless fame, a welcome kind
From all this people shall ye find:
Dwell therefore, damsels, loved of us,
Within our walls, as Danaus
Allots to each, in order due,
Her dower of attendants true.
[_Re-enter_ DANAUS. DANAUS
High thanks, my children, unto Argos con,
And to this folk, as to Olympian gods,
Give offerings meet of sacrifice and wine;
For saviours are they in good sooth to you.
From me they heard, and bitter was their wrath,
How those your kinsmen strove to work you wrong,
And how of us were thwarted: then to me
This company of spearmen did they grant,
That honoured I might walk, nor unaware
Die by some secret thrust and on this land
Bring down the curse of death, that dieth not.
Such boons they gave me: it behoves me pay
A deeper reverence from a soul sincere.
Ye, to the many words of wariness
Spoken by me your father, add this word,
That, tried by time, our unknown company
Be held for honest: over-swift are tongues
To slander strangers, over-light is speech
To bring pollution on a stranger's name.
Therefore I rede you, bring no shame on me
Now when man's eye beholds your maiden prime.
Lovely is beauty's ripening harvest-field,
But ill to guard; and men and beasts, I wot,
And birds and creeping things make prey of it.
And when the fruit is ripe for love, the voice
Of Aphrodite bruiteth it abroad,
The while she guards the yet unripened growth.
On the fair richness of a maiden's bloom
Each passer looks, o'ercome with strong desire,
With eyes that waft the wistful dart of love.
Then be not such our hap, whose livelong toil
Did make our pinnace plough the mighty main:
Nor bring we shame upon ourselves, and joy
Unto my foes. Behold, a twofold home--
One of the king's and one the people's gift--
Unbought, 'tis yours to hold,--a gracious boon.
Go--but remember ye your sire's behest,
And hold your life less dear than chastity.
CHORUS
The gods above grant that all else be well.
But fear not thou, O sire, lest aught befall
Of ill unto our ripened maidenhood.
So long as Heaven have no new ill devised,
From its chaste path my spirit shall not swerve.
SEMI-CHORUS
Pass and adore ye the Blessed, the gods of the city
who dwell
Around Erasinus, the gush of the swift immemorial
tide.
SEMI-CHORUS
Chant ye, O maidens; aloud let the praise of
Pelasgia swell;
Hymn we no longer the shores where Nilus to ocean
doth glide.
SEMI-CHORUS
Sing we the bounteous streams that ripple and gush
through the city;
Quickening flow they and fertile, the soft new life of
the plain.
SEMI-CHORUS
Artemis, maiden most pure, look on us with grace
and with pity--
Save us from forced embraces: such love hath no
crown but a pain.
SEMI-CHORUS
Yet not in scorn we chant, but in honour of
Aphrodite;
She truly and Hera alone have power with Zeus and
control.
Holy the deeds of her rite, her craft is secret and
mighty,
And high is her honour on earth, and subtle her
sway of the soul.
SEMI-CHORUS
Yea, and her child is Desire: in the train of his
mother he goeth--
Yea and Persuasion soft-lipped, whom none can deny
or repel:
Cometh Harmonia too, on whom Aphrodite bestoweth
The whispering parley, the paths of the rapture that
lovers love well.
SEMI-CHORUS
Ah, but I tremble and quake lest again they should
sail to reclaim!
Alas for the sorrow to come, the blood and the
carnage of war.
Ah, by whose will was it done that o'er the wide
ocean they came,
Guided by favouring winds, and wafted by sail and
by oar?
SEMI-CHORUS
Peace! for what Fate hath ordained will surely not
tarry but come;
Wide is the counsel of Zeus, by no man escaped or
withstood:
Only I Pray that whate'er, in the end, of this wedlock
he doom,
We as many a maiden of old, may win from the ill
to the good. [7]
[Footnote: 7: The ambiguity of these two lines is reproduced from
the original. The Semi-Chorus appear to pray, in one aspiration,
that the threatened wedlock may never take place, and, _if_ it does
take place, may be for weal, not woe. ]
SEMI-CHORUS
Great Zeus, this wedlock turn from me--
Me from the kinsman bridegroom guard!
SEMI-CHORUS
Come what come may, 'tis Fate's decree.
SEMI-CHORUS
Soft is thy word--the doom is hard.
SEMI-CHORUS
Thou know'st not what the Fates provide.
SEMI-CHORUS
How should I scan Zeus' mighty will,
The depth of counsel undescried?
SEMI-CHORUS
Pray thou no word of omen ill.
SEMI-CHORUS
What timely warning wouldst thou teach?
SEMI-CHORUS
Beware, nor slight the gods in speech.
SEMI-CHORUS
Zeus, hold from my body the wedlock detested, the
bridegroom abhorred!
It was thou, it was thou didst release
Mine ancestress Io from sorrow: thine healing it
was that restored,
The touch of thine hand gave her peace.
SEMI-CHORUS
Be thy will for the cause of the maidens! of two ills,
the lesser I pray--
The exile that leaveth me pure.
May thy justice have heed to my cause, my prayers
to thy mercy find way!
For the hands of thy saving are sure.
[_Exeunt omnes_.
THE PERSIANS
ARGUMENT
Xerxes, son of Darius and of his wife Atossa, daughter of Cyrus,
went forth against Hellas, to take vengeance upon those who had
defeated his father at Marathon. But ill fortune befell the king and
his army both by land and sea; neither did it avail him that he cast
a bridge over the Hellespont and made a canal across the promontory
of Mount Athos, and brought myriads of men, by land and sea, to
subdue the Greeks. For in the strait between Athens and the island
of Salamis the Persian ships were shattered and sunk or put to
flight by those of Athens and Lacedaemon and Aegina and Corinth, and
Xerxes went homewards on the way by which he had come, leaving his
general Mardonius with three hundred thousand men to strive with the
Greeks by land: but in the next year they were destroyed near
Plataea in Boeotia, by the Lacedaemonians and Athenians and Tegeans.
Such was the end of the army which Xerxes left behind him. But the
king himself had reached the bridge over the Hellespont, and late and
hardly and in sorry plight and with few companions came home unto
the Palace of Susa.
DRAMATIS PERSONAE
CHORUS OF PERSIAN ELDERS.
ATOSSA, WIDOW OF DARIUS AND MOTHER OF XERXES.
A MESSENGER.
THE GHOST OF DARIUS.
XERXES.
_The Scene is laid at the Palace of Susa_.
CHORUS
Away unto the Grecian land
Hath passed the Persian armament:
We, by the monarch's high command,
We are the warders true who stand,
Chosen, for honour and descent,
To watch the wealth of him who went--
Guards of the gold, and faithful styled
By Xerxes, great Darius' child!
But the king went nor comes again--
And for that host, we saw depart
Arrayed in gold, my boding heart
Aches with a pulse of anxious pain,
Presageful for its youthful king!
No scout, no steed, no battle-car
Comes speeding hitherward, to bring
News to our city from afar!
Erewhile they went, away, away,
From Susa, from Ecbatana,
From Kissa's timeworn fortress grey,
Passing to ravage and to war--
Some upon steeds, on galleys some,
Some in close files, they passed from home,
All upon warlike errand bent--
Amistres, Artaphernes went,
Astaspes, Megabazes high,
Lords of the Persian chivalry,
Marshals who serve the great king's word
Chieftains of all the mighty horde!
Horsemen and bowmen streamed away,
Grim in their aspect, fixed to slay,
And resolute to face the fray!
With troops of horse, careering fast,
Masistes, Artembares passed:
Imaeus too, the bowman brave,
Sosthanes, Pharandakes, drave--
And others the all-nursing wave
Of Nilus to the battle gave;
Came Susiskanes, warrior wild,
And Pegastagon, Egypt's child:
Thee, brave Arsames! from afar
Did holy Memphis launch to war;
And Ariomardus, high in fame,
From Thebes the immemorial came,
And oarsmen skilled from Nilus' fen,
A countless crowd of warlike men:
And next, the dainty Lydians went--
Soft rulers of a continent--
Mitragathes and Arcteus bold
In twin command their ranks controlled,
And Sardis town, that teems with gold,
Sent forth its squadrons to the war--
Horse upon horse, and car on car,
Double and triple teams, they rolled,
In onset awful to behold.
From Tmolus' sacred hill there came
The native hordes to join the fray,
And upon Hellas' neck to lay
The yoke of slavery and shame;
Mardon and Tharubis were there,
Bright anvils for the foemen's spear!
The Mysian dart-men sped to war,
And the long crowd that onward rolled
From Babylon enriched with gold--
Captains of ships and archers skilled
To speed the shaft, and those who wield
The scimitar;--the eastern band
Who, by the great king's high command,
Swept to subdue the western land!
Gone are they, gone--ah, welladay!
The flower and pride of our array;
And all the Eastland, from whose breast
Came forth her bravest and her best,
Craves longingly with boding dread--
Parents for sons, and brides new-wed
For absent lords, and, day by day,
Shudder with dread at their delay!
Ere now they have passed o'er the sea,
the manifold host of the king--
They have gone forth to sack and to burn;
ashore on the Westland they spring!
With cordage and rope they have bridged
the sea-way of Helle, to pass
O'er the strait that is named by thy name,
O daughter of Athamas!
They have anchored their ships in the current,
they have bridled the neck of the sea--
The Shepherd and Lord of the East
hath bidden a roadway to be!
From the land to the land they pass over,
a herd at the high king's best;
Some by the way of the waves,
and some o'er the planking have pressed.
For the king is a lord and a god:
he was born of the golden seed
That erst upon Danae fell--
his captains are strong at the need!
And dark is the glare of his eyes,
as eyes of a serpent blood-fed,
And with manifold troops in his train
and with manifold ships hath he sped--
Yea, sped with his Syrian cars:
he leads on the lords of the bow
To meet with the men of the West,
the spear-armed force of the foe!
Can any make head and resist him,
when he comes with the roll of a wave?
No barrier nor phalanx of might,
no chief, be he ever so brave!
For stern is the onset of Persia,
and gallant her children in fight.
But the guile of the god is deceitful,
and who shall elude him by flight?
And who is the lord of the leap,
that can spring and alight and evade?
For Ate deludes and allures,
till round him the meshes are laid,
And no man his doom can escape!
it was writ in the rule of high Heaven,
That in tramp of the steeds and in crash of the charge
the war-cry of Persia be given:
They have learned to behold the forbidden,
the sacred enclosure of sea,
Where the waters are wide and in stress
of the wind the billows roll hoary to lee!
And their trust is in cable and cordage,
too weak in the power of the blast,
And frail are the links of the bridge
whereby unto Hellas they passed.
Therefore my gloom-wrapped heart
is rent with sorrow
For what may hap to-morrow!
Alack, for all the Persian armament--
Alack, lest there be sent
Dread news of desolation, Susa's land
Bereft, forlorn, unmanned--
Lest the grey Kissian fortress echo back
The wail, _Alack, Alack_!
The sound of women's shriek, who wail and mourn,
With fine-spun raiment torn!
The charioteers went forth nor come again,
And all the marching men
Even as a swarm of bees have flown afar,
Drawn by the king to war--
Crossing the sea-bridge, linked from side to side,
That doth the waves divide:
And the soft bridal couch of bygone years
Is now bedewed with tears,
Each princess, clad in garments delicate,
Wails for her widowed fate--
_Alas my gallant bridegroom, lost and gone,
And I am left alone_!
But now, ye warders of the state,
Here, in this hall of old renown,
Behoves that we deliberate
In counsel deep and wise debate,
For need is surely shown!
How fareth he, Darius' child,
The Persian king, from Perseus styled?
Comes triumph to the eastern bow,
Or hath the lance-point conquered now?
[_Enter_ ATOSSA.
See, yonder comes the mother-queen,
Light of our eyes, in godlike sheen,
The royal mother of the king! --
Fall we before her! well it were
That, all as one, we sue to her,
And round her footsteps cling!
Queen, among deep-girded Persian dames thou highest and most royal,
Hoary mother, thou, of Xerxes, and Darius' wife of old!
To godlike sire, and godlike son, we bow us and are loyal--
Unless, on us, an adverse tide of destiny has rolled!
ATOSSA
Therefore come I forth to you, from chambers decked and golden,
Where long ago Darius laid his head, with me beside,
And my heart is torn with anguish, and with terror am I holden,
And I plead unto your friendship and I bid you to my side.
Darius, in the old time, by aid of some Immortal,
Raised up the stately fabric, our wealth of long-ago:
But I tremble lest it totter down, and ruin porch and portal,
And the whirling dust of downfall rise above its overthrow!
Therefore a dread unspeakable within me never slumbers, Saying,
_Honour not the gauds of wealth if men have ceased to grow,
Nor deem that men, apart from wealth,
can find their strength in numbers_--
We shudder for our light and king, though we have gold enow!
_No light there is, in any house, save presence of the master_--
So runs the saw, ye aged men! and truth it says indeed--
On you I call, the wise and true, to ward us from disaster,
For all my hope is fixed on you, to prop us in our need!
CHORUS
Queen-Mother of the Persian land, to thy commandment bowing,
Whate'er thou wilt, in word or deed, we follow to fulfil--
Not twice we need thine high behest, our faith and duty knowing,
In council and in act alike, thy loyal servants still!
ATOSSA
Long while by various visions of the night
Am I beset, since to Ionian lands
With marshalled host my son went forth to war.
Yet never saw I presage so distinct
As in the night now passed. --Attend my tale! --
A dream I had: two women nobly clad
Came to my sight, one robed in Persian dress,
The other vested in the Dorian garb,
And both right stately and more tall by far
Than women of to-day, and beautiful
Beyond disparagement, and sisters sprung
Both of one race, but, by their natal lot,
One born in Hellas, one in Eastern land.
These, as it seemed unto my watching eyes,
Roused each the other to a mutual feud:
The which my son perceiving set himself
To check and soothe their struggle, and anon
Yoked them and set the collars on their necks;
And one, the Ionian, proud in this array,
Paced in high quietude, and lent her mouth,
Obedient, to the guidance of the rein.
But restively the other strove, and broke
The fittings of the car, and plunged away
With mouth un-bitted: o'er the broken yoke
My son was hurled, and lo! Darius stood
In lamentation o'er his fallen child.
Him Xerxes saw, and rent his robe in grief.
Such was my vision of the night now past;
But when, arising, I had dipped my hand
In the fair lustral stream, I drew towards
The altar, in the act of sacrifice,
Having in mind to offer, as their due,
The sacred meal-cake to the averting powers,
Lords of the rite that banisheth ill dreams.
When lo! I saw an eagle fleeing fast
To Phoebus' shrine--O friends, I stayed my steps,
Too scared to speak! for, close upon his flight,
A little falcon dashed in winged pursuit,
Plucking with claws the eagle's head, while he
Could only crouch and cower and yield himself.
Scared was I by that sight, and eke to you
No less a terror must it be to hear!
For mark this well--if Xerxes have prevailed,
He shall come back the wonder of the world:
If not, still none can call him to account--
So he but live, he liveth Persia's King!
CHORUS
Queen, it stands not with my purpose to abet these fears of thine,
Nor to speak with glazing comfort! nay, betake thee to the shrine!
If thy dream foretold disaster, sue to gods to bar its way,
And, for thyself, son, state, and friends, to bring fair fate
to-day.
Next, unto Earth and to the Dead be due libation poured,
And by thee let Darius' soul be wistfully implored--
_I saw thee, lord, in last night's dream, a phantom from the grave,
I pray thee, lord, from earth beneath come forth to help and save!
To me and to thy son send up the bliss of triumph now,
And hold the gloomy fates of ill, dim in the dark below_!
Such be thy words! my inner heart good tidings doth foretell,
And that fair fate will spring thereof, if wisdom guide us well.
ATOSSA
Loyal thou that first hast read this dream, this vision of the
night,
With loyalty to me, the queen--be then thy presage right!
And therefore, as thy bidding is, what time I pass within
To dedicate these offerings, new prayers I will begin,
Alike to gods and the great dead who loved our lineage well.
Yet one more word--say, in what realm do the Athenians dwell?
CHORUS
Far hence, even where, in evening land, goes down our Lord the Sun.
ATOSSA
Say, had my son so keen desire, that region to o'errun?
CHORUS
Yea--if she fell, the rest of Greece were subject to our sway!
ATOSSA
Hath she so great predominance, such legions in array?
CHORUS
Ay--such a host as smote us sore upon an earlier day.
ATOSSA
And what hath she, besides her men? enow of wealth in store?
CHORUS
A mine of treasure in the earth, a fount of silver ore!
ATOSSA
Is it in skill of bow and shaft that Athens' men excel?
CHORUS
Nay, they bear bucklers in the fight,
and thrust the spear-point well.
ATOSSA
And who is shepherd of their host and holds them in command?
CHORUS
To no man do they bow as slaves, nor own a master's hand.
ATOSSA
How should they bide our brunt of war, the East upon the West?
CHORUS
That could Darius' valiant horde in days of yore attest!
ATOSSA
A boding word, to us who bore the men now far away!
CHORUS
Nay--as I deem, the very truth will dawn on us to-day.
A Persian by his garb and speed, a courier draws anear--
He bringeth news, of good or ill, for Persia's land to hear.
[_Enter_ A MESSENGER.
MESSENGER
O walls and towers of all the Asian realm,
O Persian land, O treasure-house of gold!
How, by one stroke, down to destruction, down,
Hath sunk our pride, and all the flower of war
That once was Persia's, lieth in the dust!
Woe on the man who first announceth woe--
Yet must I all the tale of death unroll!
Hark to me, Persians! Persia's host lies low.
CHORUS
O ruin manifold, and woe, and fear!
Let the wild tears run down, for the great doom is here!
MESSENGER
This blow hath fallen, to the utterance, And I, past hope, behold
my safe return!
CHORUS
Too long, alack, too long this life of mine,
That in mine age I see this sudden woe condign!
MESSENGER
As one who saw, by no loose rumour led,
Lords, I would tell what doom was dealt to us.
CHORUS
Alack, how vainly have they striven!
Our myriad hordes with shaft and bow
Went from the Eastland, to lay low
Hellas, beloved of Heaven!
MESSENGER
Piled with men dead, yea, miserably slain,
Is every beach, each reef of Salamis!
CHORUS
Thou sayest sooth--ah well-a-day!
Battered amid the waves, and torn,
On surges hither, thither, borne,
Dead bodies, bloodstained and forlorn,
In their long cloaks they toss and stray!
MESSENGER
Their bows availed not! all have perished, all,
By charging galleys crushed and whelmed in death.
CHORUS
Shriek out your sorrow's wistful wail!
To their untimely doom they went;
Ill strove they, and to no avail,
And minished is their armament!
MESSENGER
Out on thee, hateful name of Salamis,
Out upon Athens, mournful memory!
CHORUS
Woe upon this day's evil fame!
Thou, Athens, art our murderess;
Alack, full many a Persian dame
Is left forlorn and husbandless!
ATOSSA
Mute have I been awhile, and overwrought
At this great sorrow, for it passeth speech,
And passeth all desire to ask of it.
Yet if the gods send evils, men must bear.
(_To the_ MESSENGER)
Unroll the record! stand composed and tell,
Although thy heart be groaning inwardly,
Who hath escaped, and, of our leaders, whom
Have we to weep? what chieftains in the van
Stood, sank, and died and left us leaderless?
MESSENGER
Xerxes himself survives and sees the day.
ATOSSA
Then to my line thy word renews the dawn
And golden dayspring after gloom of night!
MESSENGER
But the brave marshal of ten thousand horse,
Artembares, is tossed and flung in death
Along the rugged rocks Silenian.
And Dadaces no longer leads his troop,
But, smitten by the spear, from off the prow
Hath lightly leaped to death; and Tenagon,
In true descent a Bactrian nobly born,
Drifts by the sea-lashed reefs of Salamis,
The isle of Ajax. Gone Lilaeus too,
Gone are Arsames and Argestes! all,
Around the islet where the sea-doves breed,
Dashed their defeated heads on iron rocks;
Arcteus, who dwelt beside the founts of Nile,
Adeues, Pheresseues, and with them
Pharnuchus, from one galley's deck went down.
Matallus, too, of Chrysa, lord and king
Of myriad hordes, who led unto the fight
Three times ten thousand swarthy cavaliers,
Fell, with his swarthy and abundant beard
Incarnadined to red, a crimson stain
Outrivalling the purple of the sea!
There Magian Arabus and Artames
Of Bactra perished--taking up, alike,
In yonder stony land their long sojourn.
Amistris too, and he whose strenuous spear
Was foremost in the fight, Amphistreus fell,
And gallant Ariomardus, by whose death
Broods sorrow upon Sardis: Mysia mourns
For Seisames, and Tharubis lies low--
Commander, he, of five times fifty ships,
Born in Lyrnessus: his heroic form
Is low in death, ungraced with sepulchre.
Dead too is he, the lord of courage high,
Cilicia's marshal, brave Syennesis,
Than whom none dealt more carnage on the foe,
Nor perished by a more heroic end.
So fell the brave: so speak I of their doom,
Summing in brief the fate of myriads!
ATOSSA
Ah well-a-day! these crowning woes I hear,
The shame of Persia and her shrieks of dole!
But yet renew the tale, repeat thy words,
Tell o'er the count of those Hellenic ships,
And how they ventured with their beaked prows
To charge upon the Persian armament.
MESSENGER
Know, if mere count of ships could win the day,
The Persians had prevailed. The Greeks, in sooth,
Had but three hundred galleys at the most,
And other ten, select and separate.
But--I am witness--Xerxes held command
Of full a thousand keels, and, those apart,
Two hundred more, and seven, for speed renowned! --
So stands the reckoning, and who shall dare
To say we Persians had the lesser host?
ATOSSA
Nay, we were worsted by an unseen power
Who swayed the balance downward to our doom!
MESSENGER
In ward of heaven doth Pallas' city stand.
ATOSSA
How then? is Athens yet inviolate?
MESSENGER
While her men live, her bulwark standeth firm!
ATOSSA
Say, how began the struggle of the ships?
Who first joined issue? did the Greeks attack,
Or Xerxes, in his numbers confident?
MESSENGER
O queen, our whole disaster thus befell,
Through intervention of some fiend or fate--
I know not what--that had ill will to us.
From the Athenian host some Greek came o'er,
To thy son Xerxes whispering this tale--
_Once let the gloom of night have gathered in,
The Greeks will tarry not, but swiftly spring
Each to his galley-bench, in furtive flight,
Softly contriving safety for their life_.
Thy son believed the word and missed the craft
Of that Greek foeman, and the spite of Heaven,
And straight to all his captains gave this charge--
_As soon as sunlight warms the ground no more,
And gloom enwraps the sanctuary of sky,
Range we our fleet in triple serried lines
To bar the passage from the seething strait,
This way and that: let other ships surround
The isle of Ajax, with this warning word--
That if the Greeks their jeopardy should scape
By wary craft, and win their ships a road.
Each Persian captain shall his failure pay
By forfeit of his head_. So spake the king,
Inspired at heart with over-confidence,
Unwitting of the gods' predestined will.
Thereon our crews, with no disordered haste,
Did service to his bidding and purveyed
The meal of afternoon: each rower then
Over the fitted rowlock looped his oar.
Then, when the splendour of the sun had set,
And night drew on, each master of the oar
And each armed warrior straightway went aboard.
Forward the long ships moved, rank cheering rank,
Each forward set upon its ordered course.
And all night long the captains of the fleet
Kept their crews moving up and down the strait.
So the night waned, and not one Grecian ship
Made effort to elude and slip away.
But as dawn came and with her coursers white
Shone in fair radiance over all the earth,
First from the Grecian fleet rang out a cry,
A song of onset! and the island crags
Re-echoed to the shrill exulting sound.
Then on us Eastern men amazement fell
And fear in place of hope; for what we heard
Was not a call to flight! the Greeks rang out
Their holy, resolute, exulting chant,
Like men come forth to dare and do and die
Their trumpets pealed, and fire was in that sound,
And with the dash of simultaneous oars
Replying to the war-chant, on they came,
Smiting the swirling brine, and in a trice
They flashed upon the vision of the foe!
