The Persians

CHORUS: For the king’s return
with his many-manned troops
doom is the feeling
in my heart convulsed,
as it faces the future.
For all Asia is gone,
its strength and its youth:
and the women lament for their men.

CHORUS, ANTISTROPHE A: And the furious leader the herd
of populous Asia he drives,
wonderful over the earth,
and admirals stern and rough
marshals of men he trusts:
gold his descent from Perseus,
he is the equal of a god.

CHORUS, STROPHE B: In his eyes lazuli flashing
like a snake’s murderous glances,
with his mariners, warriors, many,
and his Syrian chariot driving,
hard on the glorious spearmen
the archer Ares he leads.

CHORUS, ANTISTROPHE B: To the great torrent of heroes
there is none worthily equal,
who resist, by defenses secured,
the unconquerable billows of ocean:
Persians are never defeated,
the people tempered and brave.

CHORUS, STROPHE E: All the horse and infantry
like a swarm of bees have gone
with the captain of the host,
who joined the headlands of either land,
crossing the yoke of the sea.

CHORUS, ANTISTROPHE E: Beds with longing fill with tears,
Persian wives in softness weep;
each her armed furious lord
dismissed with gentle love and grief,
left all alone in the yoke.

QUEEN: Thus in the night these visions
I dreamed: but when, arisen, I touched the springs’
fair-flowing waters, approached the altar, wishing
to offer sacrifice religiously
to guardian deities, whose rites these are,
then to Phoebus’ hearth I saw an eagle fleeing.
Dumb in dread I stood: a falcon swooped
upon him, its wings in flight, its claws plucked
At his head: he did no more than cower, hare-like.
Those were my terrors to see, and yours to hear.

CHORUS LEADER: Queen mother, excessive fear
or confidence we do not wish to give you.
If your dreams were ominous, approach
the gods with supplications; pray that these
be unfulfilled, and blessings be fulfilled
for you, your son, your city, and your friends.
Next you must pour libations to the Earth
and the dead: and beg Darius, of whom you dreamed,
to send those blessings from the nether world
to light, for you and your son; and to hide
in darkness evils contrary, retained
within the earth. Propitious be your prayers.

QUEEN: So rich in numbers are they?

CHORUS LEADER: So great a host
as dealt to Persians many woes.

QUEEN: Are bow-plucked shafts their armament?

CHORUS LEADER: Pikes wielded-close and shielded panoplies.

QUEEN: What else besides? Have they sufficing wealth?

CHORUS LEADER: Their earth is veined with silver treasuries.

QUEEN: Who commands them? Who is shepherd of their host?

CHORUS LEADER: They are slaves to none, nor are they subject.

QUEEN: But how could they withstand a foreign foe?

CHORUS LEADER: Enough to vanquish Darius’ noble host.

QUEEN: We mothers dread to calculate.

CHORUS, STROPHE C: Raise a mournful, doleful cry
for Persians wretched:
all they made, all woe.
Alas! the host destroyed.

MESSENGER: O most hateful name of Salamis!
O woe! how I groan recalling Athens.

CHORUS, ANTISTROPHE C: Athens hateful to her foes.
Recall how many
Persian women are widowed,
and mothers have lost their sons.

QUEEN: Long am I silent, alas! struck down
by disasters exceeding speech and question.
Yet humans must perforce endure misfortunes
that are sent by the gods.

QUEEN: Ah! woe is me, the army all destroyed.
O bright night’s spectacle of dreams,
how clearly you foresaw my woe,
and you, my counselors, how poorly you have judged.
But yet, as you counseled thus,
first to the gods I’ll offer prayer; and then
to Earth and the dead I’ll come to offer gifts
from the house, a rich libation. I know I pray
for what is done and gone, but a brighter
fortune, in time to come, may there yet be.

CHORUS (chanting): O! Zeus, king, you destroyed
the multitudinous, proud
host of the Persian men;
and the cities of Sousa
and of Agbatana
concealed in the darkness of grief.
[…] The ladies of Persia
softly are weeping,
desiring each
him to behold
wedded but lately;
forsaking their couches,
soft with their coverlets,
the joy of their youth,
now they lament their sorrows,
insatiate, full of woe.
And I recite the mourning song,
doom of the gone,
woe upon woe.

CHORUS, STROPHE C: They throughout the Asian land
no more will Persian laws obey,
no more the lordly tribute pay,
exacted by compulsion;
nor falling faceward to the earth,
will they make obeisance now:
lost is the kingly power.

CHORUS, ANTISTROPHE C:
Nay, no longer is the tongue
kept in check, but loose are men
when loosened is the yoke of power,
to shout aloud their liberty.
And Ajax’ island, soaked with blood,
its earth, and washed round by the sea,
holds the remains of Persia.

QUEEN: My friends, if one’s experienced in troubles,
One knows that, when a flood of evil comes,
we tend to fear for everything; but when
a god provides an easy voyage, we think
that fortune’s never-ending wind will blow
forever. So now, to me all things are full of the fear
and visions from the gods assail my eyes,
and my ears already ring with cureless songs:
thus consternation terrifies my sense.
Therefore I departed from the palace,
returning here, unaccompanied
by chariots, by pomp and ceremony:
to the father of my son I bring
libations, propitious offerings for the dead.

DARIUS: All human beings suffer human troubles;
and many woes arise, some from the sea,
and others from the land, to those who live
a longer span of life.

XERXES, STROPHE A (singing): Here I am, ah, most lamentable:
to my native and ancestral land
I’ve become nothing but evil.

CHORUS (singing): Loudly shall I send, to greet your return,
an evil-omened shout, an evil-practiced cry:
a weeping wail I shall sing,
the wail of a Mariandynian mourner.

XERXES, ANTISTROPHE A: Send a wail of evil sound
lamenting and grievous; now
this god again has changed for me.

CHORUS: Mourning wail all-weeping shall I send,
in honor of the people’s suffering and sea-struck toils:
again a wailing filled with tears I’ll cry.

XERXES, STROPHE B (singing): Ionian Ares triumphed,
protector of their ships,
their partisan in war,
reaping gloomy flats of sea
and demon-haunted shores.

XERXES, ANTISTROPHE E (singing): Alas, too firm! I saw an unexpected misery.

CHORUS (singing): You mean the crowd of ships, routed and broken?

XERXES: I tore my garments at this calamity.

CHORUS: Ah, O woe!

XERXES: And even more than woe.

CHORUS: Double and triple the woe!

XERXES: Painful to us, but to our enemies joy.

CHORUS: And cut short was our power.

XERXES (singing): Cry out antiphonal to me.

CHORUS (singing): A woesome gift in response to woe.

XERXES: Raising a cry, join together our songs!

XERXES AND CHORUS: O woe, woe, woe upon woe.

CHORUS: Hearing this calamity,
Oh! I am pierced.
[…] Black with bruises again the blows are mixed,
Oh, with the groans.

XERXES, STROPHE G: Beat your breast too and cry Mysian laments.

CHORUS: Pain, pain.

XERXES: Tear the whitened hair of your beard.

CHORUS: With clenched hand, grimly mourning.

XERXES: Shriek a piercing cry.

CHORUS: And so I shall.

XERXES (singing): Go wailing to your homes.

CHORUS (singing): O woe, ah!

XERXES: Cries of woe throughout the city.

CHORUS: Yes, cries of woe indeed.

XERXES: Softly stepping, moan in grief.

CHORUS: O Persian land in hardness stepped.

XERXES: Oh, oh, by triple banks of oars…

CHORUS: Oh, oh…our ships were destroyed by theirs.
We shall escort you
with mournful lament.