CHORUS
A mine of treasure in the earth, a fount of silver ore!
A mine of treasure in the earth, a fount of silver ore!
Aeschylus
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.