No More Learning

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!