Psammis in mailed cuirass dress'd,
And Susiscanes' glitt'ring crest?
XERXES
Dash'd from the Tyrian vessel on the rocksOf Salamis they sunk, and smear'd with goreThe 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 warHis 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 townOgygian Athens, roll'd their glowing eyesIndignant; but at once in the fierce shockOf battle fell, dash'd breathless on the ground.
CHORUS
There does the son of Batanochus lie,
Through whose rich veins the unsullied bloodOf 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 plainLow 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.
XERXES
To my grieved memory thy mournful voice,
Tuned to the saddest notes of wo, recallsMy brave friends lost; and my rent heart returnsIn dreadful symphony the sorrowing strain.
CHORUS
Yet once more shall I ask thee, yet once more,Where is the Mardian Xanthes' might,The daring chief, that from the Pontic shoreLed his strong phalanx to the fight?
Anchares where, whose high-raised shield
Flamed foremost in the embattled field?
Where the high leaders of thy mail-clad horse,Daixis and Arsaces where?
Where Cigdadatas and Lythimnas' force,
Waving untired his purple spear?
XERXES
Entomb'd, I saw them in the earth entomb'd;Nor did the rolling car with solemn stateAttend their rites: I follow'd: low they lie(Ah me, the once great leaders of my host!
Low in the earth, without their honours lie.
CHORUS
O wo, wo, wo! Unutterable wo
The demons of revenge have spread;
And Ate from her drear abode below
Rises to view the horrid deed.
XERXES
Dismay, and rout, and ruin, ills that waitOn man's afflicted fortune, sink us down.
CHORUS
Dismay, and rout, and ruin on us wait,
And all the vengeful storms of Fate:
Ill flows on ill, on sorrows sorrows rise;Misfortune leads her baleful train;
Before the Ionian squadrons Persia flies,Or sinks ingulf'd beneath the main.
Fall'n, fall'n is her imperial power,
And conquest on her banners waits no more.
XERXES
At such a fall, such troops of heroes lost,How can my soul but sink in deep despair!
Cease thy sad strain.
CHORUS
Is all thy glory lost?
XERXES
Seest thou these poor remains of my rent robes?
CHORUS
I see, I see.
XERXES
And this ill-furnish'd quiver?
CHORUS
Wherefore preserved?
XERXES
To store my treasured arrows.
CHORUS
Few, very few.
XERXES
And few my friendly aids.
CHORUS
I thought these Grecians shrunk appall'd at arms.
XERXES
No: they are bold and daring: these sad eyesBeheld their violent and deathful deeds.
CHORUS
The ruin, sayst thou, of thy shattered fleet?
XERXES
And in the anguish of my soul I rent
My royal robes.
CHORUS
Wo, wo!
XERXES
And more than wo.
CHORUS
Redoubled, threefold wo!
XERXES
Disgrace to me,
But triumph to the foe.
CHORUS
Are all thy powers
In ruin crush'd?
XERXES
No satrap guards me now.
CHORUS
Thy faithful friends sunk in the roaring main.
XERXES
Weep, weep their loss, and lead me to my house;Answer my grief with grief, an ill returnOf ills for ills. Yet once more raise that strainLamenting my misfortunes; beat thy breast,Strike, heave the groan; awake the Mysian strainTo notes of loudest wo; rend thy rich robes,Pluck up thy beard, tear off thy hoary locks,And battle thine eyes in tears: thus through the streetsSolemn and slow with sorrow lead my steps;Lead to my house, and wail the fate of Persia.
CHORUS
Yes, once more at thy bidding shall the strainPour the deep sorrows of my soul;The suff'rings of my bleeding untry plain,And bid the Mysian measures roll.
Again the voice of wild despair
With thrilling shrieks shall pierce the air;For high the god of war his flaming crestRaised, with the fleet of Greece surrounded,The haughty arms of Greece with conquest bless'd,And Persia's withered force confounded,Dash'd on the dreary beach her heroes slain.,Or whelm'd them in the darken'd main.
THE END
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