| Aeschylus Index |
XERXES
Ah me, how sudden have the storms of Fate, Beyond all thought, all apprehension, burst On my devoted head! O Fortune, Fortune! With what relentless fury hath thy hand Hurl'd desolation on the Persian race! Wo unsupportable! The torturing thought Of our lost youth comes rushing on my mind, And sinks me to the ground. O Jove, that Had died with those brave men that died in fight I CHORUS
O thou afflicted monarch, once the lord Of marshall'd armies, of the lustre beam'd From glory's ray o'er Persia, of her sons The pride, the grace, whom ruin now hath sunk In blood! The unpeopled land laments her youth By Xerxes led to slaughter, till the realms Of death are gorged with Persians; for the flower Of all the realm, thousands, whose dreadful bows With arrowy shower annoy'd the foe, are fall'n. XERXES
Your fall, heroic youths, distracts my soul. CHORUS
And Asia sinking on her knee, O king, Oppress'd, with griefs oppress'd, bends to the earth. XERXES
And I, O wretched fortune, I was born To crush, to desolate my ruin'd country! CHORUS
I have no voice, no swelling harmony, No descant, save these notes of wo, Harsh, and responsive to the sullen sigh, Rude strains, that unmelodious flow, To welcome thy return. XERXES
Then bid them flow, bid the wild measures flow Hollow, unmusical, the notes of grief; They suit my fortune, and dejected state. CHORUS
Yes, at thy royal bidding shall the strain Pour the deep sorrows of my soul; The suff'rings of my bleeding country plain, And bid the mournful measures roll. Again the voice of wild despair With thrilling shrieks shall pierce the air; For high the god of war his flaming crest Raised, with the fleet of Greece surrounded, The haughty arms of Greece with conquest bless'd, And Persia's wither'd force confounded, Dash'd on the dreary beach her heroes slain, Or whelm'd them in the darken'd main. XERXES
To swell thy griefs ask ev'ry circumstance. CHORUS
Where are thy valiant friends, thy chieftains where? Pharnaces, Susas, and the might Of Pelagon, and Dotamas? The spear Of Agabates bold in fight? Psammis in mailed cuirass dress'd, And Susiscanes' glitt'ring crest? XERXES
Dash'd from the Tyrian vessel on the rocks Of Salamis they sunk, and smear'd with gore The heroes on the dreary strand are stretch'd. CHORUS
Where is Pharnuchus? Ariomardus where, With ev'ry gentle virtue graced? Lilaeus, that from chiefs renown'd in war His high-descended lineage traced? Where rears Sebalces his crown-circled head: Where Tharybis to battles bred, Artembares, Hystaechmes bold, Memphis, Masistress sheath'd in gold? XERXES
Wretch that I am! These on the abhorred town Ogygian Athens, roll'd their glowing eyes Indignant; but at once in the fierce shock Of battle fell, dash'd breathless on the ground. CHORUS
There does the son of Batanochus lie, Through whose rich veins the unsullied blood Of Susamus, down from the lineage high Of noble Mygabatas flow'd: Alpistus, who with faithful care Number'd the deep'ning files of war, The monarch's eye; on the ensanguined plain Low is the mighty warrior laid? Is great Aebares 'mong the heroes slain, And Partheus number'd with the dead?- Ah me! those bursting groans, deep-charged with wo, The fate of Persia's princes show.
|
Buy Books!
|