So [well do they], that they destroyed a large and goodly army of Darius.

Truly thou tellest of what is dreadful for the parents of those who are gone to think upon.

But, as it seems to me, thou shalt soon know the whole truth; for the running of this man we may plainly perceive to be that of a Persian; and he is bringing some clear tidings of good or ill for us to hear.

O ye cities of the whole land of Asia! O realm of Persia, and mighty haven of opulence, how hath the ample weal been demolished by a single stroke, and the flower of the Persians is fallen and gone. Woe's me, 'tis an ill office to be the first messenger of ill, but yet it is necessary to unfold the whole of the disaster of the Persians, for all the army of the barbarians hath perished.

Dismal, dismal, strange evils, and adverse,-alas. Drench yourselves in tears, ye Persians, hearing of this sorrow.

How has all that armament gone to ruin! But I myself, beyond my hope, behold the day of my return.

Verily this life of ours appears too long protracted to us aged men, that we should hear of this unlooked-for calamity.

And in very deed I, being on the spot, and not having heard reports from others1, can tell how great ills have been dealt out to the Persians.

Woe! woe! in vain did the multitude of shafts of every kind go from the land of Asia, against a hostile land, the realm of Hellas.

The shores of Salamis, and all the adjoining region, are full of the corpses of those who miserably perished.

Woe! woe! thou tellest us that the dead bodies of our friends, tossed on the billow, oft immersed, are borne along on the twice-changing surface of the tide2.

Yes, for our bows availed us nought, and our whole host perished, beaten down by the collision of the beaks of the vessels.

Shriek forth a doleful outcry, full of woe to the wretched Persians; for ill did they succeed in all things, alas! when their host was destroyed.

O name of Salamis, most hateful to our ears. Alas! how I sigh when I remember Athens.

Hateful is Athens to us miserable: we have to remember, in sooth, how many of the Persian matrons it has made widows and bereft of their husbands to no gain1 of ours!

I, wretched, have for a long time kept silence, utterly astounded by the evils: for this calamity is too great for me to speak, or to enquire about our sufferings. Nevertheless, it is necessary for mortals to endure afflictions, when the gods award them : and do thou compose thyself and tell us, unfolding the whole of our suffering, even though thou sigh est over the evils: who is there that hath not fallen? and whom of the leaders of the host shall we bewail, who, having been appointed to a sceptred office, by his death left his file desolate without their chief?

Xerxes himself lives, and beholds the light.

Thou tellest me of a great light to my house, and a bright-dawning day after a night wrapped in gloom.

But Artembares, leader of a myriad of horse, is dashed against the rugged shores of Sileniae2. And Dadaces the chiliarch, beneath the stroke of the spear, bounded a light leap out of his vessel. Tenagon too, the true-born chieftain3 of the Bactrians, haunts the sea-beat isle of Ajax. Lilaeus, and Arsames, and Argestes third, overcome, keep butting against the hard shore around the dove-breeding isle. Arcteus, too, that dwelt near the sources of Egyptian Nile, Adeues, and Pheres-seues the third, Pharnuchus, these fell from one vessel. Matallus of Chrysa, commander of a myriad, leader of a body of thirty thousand black cavalry, in his death, tinged his bright auburn. bushy, thick, shadowy beard, changing its colour with a stain of purple4. And Arabus the Mage, and Artames the Bactrian, a settler on the rugged land, perished there. Amestris, and Amphistreus who wielded a spear that did great execution, and brave Ariomardus1 occasioning grief to Sardis, and Sesames, the Mysian; Tharybis, too, commander of five times fifty ships, of Lyrnaean race, a hero of fair form, lies wretched, having died by no means happily. And Syennesis, foremost in gallantry, governor of the Cilicians, that with his single arm occasioned much trouble to the foe, fell gloriously. Of such of our leaders have I now made mention; and I report a few of the many evils that have befallen us.

Alas! Alas! I hear these supreme of horrors, both a disgrace to the Persians, and a subject for shrill shriekings. But turn back again and tell me this, how great was the number of the ships of the Greeks, that they ventured to join battle with the Persian armament in the encounter of vessels?

So far as numbers are concerned, be well assured that the barbarians had the advantage with their ships: for the whole number of those of the Greeks amounted to ten squadrons of thirty, and beside these there were ten of surpassing excellence2. But Xerxes, for I know this also, had a thousand, the number of those which he led: and those which exceeded in swiftness were two hundred and seven: thus runs report. Do we seem to you to have been inferior in fight in this respect3? But 'twas some divinity that thus depressed the balance with a counterpoise of fortune.

The gods preserve the city of the goddess Pallas4.

The city indeed of Athens is still not laid waste, for while there are men there is a sure bulwark.

And what was the commencement of the encounter of the ships? Tell us; who began the fight, was it the Greeks, or my son, elated by, the multitude of his ships?

It was some fiend, lady, or evil spirit appearing from some quarter or other that began all the mischief. For a Greek that had come from the host of the Athenians1, told thy son Xerxes this, that, when the gloom of murky night should come, the Greeks would not remain, but, springing on the benches of their vessels, would severally, in different directions, save their lives by stealthy flight. And he, as soon as he heard it, not aware of the stratagem of the Greek, nor ol the jealousy of the gods, publishes this order to all his captains, that when the sun should have ceased to illumine the earth with his rays, and darkness tenant the temple of the firmament, they should draw up the squadron of the ships in three lines, to guard the outlets, and the murmuring passes of the sea, and others in a circle around the isle of Ajax; so that if the Greeks should elude fatal destruction, by discovering any escape for their ships by stealth, it was decreed, that they all should be deprived of their heads. To this effect he spake from a frantic spirit; for he knew not that which was preordained of the gods. And they, without disorder, and with obedient mind, both provided supper for themselves, and the mariner lashed his oar to the well-fitted rowlock. And when the light of the sun had waned, and night had come on, every man, master of an oar, went on board his ship, and every one that had sway over arms; and one line of ships of war cheered on another line, and they make sail as each had been appointed, and all the live-long night the commanders of the ships were keeping the whole naval host occupied in sailing about. And night withdrew, and the force of the Greeks by no means made a stealthy escape in any direction. But when Day, drawn by white steeds, had occupied the whole earth, of radiance beautiful to behold, first of all a shout from the Greeks greeted Echo like a song, and Echo from the island-rock at the same instant shouted forth an inspiring cry: and terror fell on all the barbarians, baulked of their purpose; for not as in flight were the Greeks then chaunting the solemn paean, but speeding on to the fight with gallant daring of soul. And the trumpet, with its clang, inflamed their whole line; and forthwith, with the collision of the dashing oar, at the word of command they smote the roaring brine. And quickly were they conspicuous to view. The right wing, well marshalled, led on foremost in good order, and secondly, their whole force was coming forth against us. and we could at the same time hear a mighty shout: SONS OF THE GREEKS! ON! FREE YOUR COUNTRY, AND FREE YOUR CHILDREN, YOUR WIVES, THE ABODES TOO OF THE GODS OF YOUR FATHERS, AND THE TOMBS OF YOUR ANCESTORS; NOW IS THE CONFLICT FOR THEM ALL! And sooth to say, a murmur of the Persian tongue met them from our line, and no longer was it the moment to delay, but forthwith ship dashed her brazen prow at ship. And a Grecian vessel commenced the engagement, and breaks off the whole of the figure-head of a Phoenician ship: and each commander severally directed his bark against another of the enemy's. At first, indeed, the torrent of the Persian armament bore up against them: but when the multitude of our ships were crowded in the strait, and no assistance could be given to one another, but they were struck by their own brazen beaks, and were smashing their entire equipment of oars, and the Grecian vessels, not without science, were smiting them in a circle on all sides, and the hulls of our vessels were upturned, and the sea was no longer to behold, filled as it was with wrecks and the slaughter of men. The shores, too, and the rugged rocks were filled with the dead; and every ship, as many as ever there were of the barbaric armament, was rowed in flight without order. But the Greeks kept striking, hacking us as it were tunnies, or any draught of fishes, with fragments of oars, and splinters of wrecks; and wailing filled the ocean brine with shrieks, until the eye of murky night removed it. But for the multitude of our woes,-no, not if I should recite them in order for ten days, could I complete the tale for thee. For be thou well assured of this, that there never fell in a single day a multitude of men of such number.

Alas! alas! a mighty ocean of ills has, in truth, burst upon both the Persians and the entire race of the barbarians.

Be now well assured of this, that the evil hath not yet reached its half. Such a visitation of ills hath come upon them, as to overbalance these even twice over.

And what event can have befallen that is yet more hateful than this? Say what misfortune this is, which, thou sayest, hath farther come upon the host, verging to greater horrors.

As many of the Persians as were in the very bloom of life, most valiant in their spirit, and distinguished by their high birth, and were ever foremost in faithfulness to our monarch himself, have fallen foully by a most inglorious doom.

Alas! the wretch that I am, my friends, by this evil hap. And by what kind of doom sayest thou that these of whom thou speakest perished?

There is a certain island lying off the shores of Salamis, small, a dangerous station for ships, which Pan, who delights in the dance, haunts on its beach. Thither [Xerxes] sends these men, in order that, when the foeman wandering out of their ships should make their escape to the island, they might slay the soldiery of the Greeks, an easy prey, and rescue their comrades from the streams of the sea, ill knowing of the future; for when God gave the glory of the naval battle to the Greeks, on that very day having fortified their bodies in their armour well-wrought of brass, they leaped out of their vessels, and encompassed the whole island around, so that they were at a loss whither they should betake themselves; for often were they smitten by stones from their hands, and arrows falling on them from the bowstring destroyed them. And at last, having charged them with one onslaught, they smite, they how in pieces the limbs of the wretches, until they had utterly destroyed the life of all of them. And Xerxes shrieked aloud, when he saw the depth of his calamities; for he had a seat that afforded a clear prospect1 of the whole armament, a high hill near the ocean brine; and having rent his clothes, and uttered a shrill wail, after issuing orders quickly to the land forces, he dismisses them in disorderly flight. Such a misfortune is it thine to wail over, in addition to the aforementioned.

O hateful demon! How hast thou then deluded the Persians in their hopes. But bitter did my son find the vengeance of renowned Athens, and those of the barbarians, whom Marathon formerly destroyed, sufficed not, for whom my son, thinking to exact atonement, drew1 upon himself so great a multitude of sufferings. But say thou-those of the ships which esaped destruction—where didst thou leave them? knowest thou so as to tell clearly?

The commanders of the ships, indeed, which were left, tumultuously take to flight before the wind, not in good order. But the residue of the forces perished both in the land of the Boeotians—some around the fountain spring suffering from thirst, and some2 of us exhausted by panting, pass on thence into the territory of the Phocians, and the land of Doris, and the Melian bay, where Spercheius waters the plain with kindly stream; and thence the soil of the Achaian land, and the city of the Thessalians received us, straitened for want of food: here, indeed, a great many perished both from thirst and hunger; for both these evils befel us. We came also into the land of Magnesia, and the country of the Macedonians, to the ford of the Axius, and the fenny reed of Bolbe, and to mount Pangaeus, Edonian land. And in this night God called up winter out of his season3, and congeals the whole stream of the sacred Strymon. And one that had aforetime believed not in the gods, then made prayer in orisons, doing reverence to earth and heaven4. And after that the host had ceased from offering their many invocations, it makes its passage across the ice-bound stream. And whosoever of us had sped our way before the rays of the god had been shed abroad, bath escaped; for the bright orb of the sun blazing with his beams, penetrated through the middle of the stream, warming it with its blaze. They fell, too, one upon another; and happy, in sooth, was any that most speedily broke off the breath of life. And as many as survived and attained to safety, having with difficulty made their way through Thrace with much toil1, having made their escape, have reached, in no great numbers, the land of their homes; so that the city of the Persians may well sigh, regretting the dearest youth of our country. These tidings are true: but I omit to tell you of many of the horrors which the god bath hurled down upon the Persians.

O daemon, hard to struggle with, how exceedingly heavy hast thou with thy feet leaped on the entire Persian race!

Alas! wretched that I am for our undone host! O manifest phantom of my visions of the night, how too truly didst thou discover the horrors to me. And very sorrily did ye interpret these things. But notwithstanding, since your speech sanctions this, I would fain first of all make my prayers to the gods; then will I come, after fetching from my dwelling2 a sacrificial cake, offerings both for earth and for the departed: over things past [recal] I well know, but it may be that something more auspicious will befal hereafter. But it behoves you to communicate faithful counsels with the faithful, touching what has taken place; and for my son, if he come hither before me, soothe ye him, and escort him into his dwelling, lest even a further ill be added over and above to our present ills3.

O sovereign Jove! now hast thou destroyed the armament of the high-vaunting and numerous Persians; and thou hast veiled in gloomy grief the city of Susa and of Ecbatana: and many virgins, rending their veils with their delicate hands, sharing in the sorrow, drench their bosoms with dense floods of tears. Our Persian matrons too, in excess of mourning, longing for the sight of the recent wedlock of their husbands, and having abandoned their couches4 covered with elegant tapestry, the delight of their delicate youth, they sorrow with most insatiate sighs. And I, for my part, heartily take [for my theme] the melancholy fate of the departed.

Now, in truth, the whole of the land of Asia made desolate moans. For Xerxes led forth, O gods! and Xerxes lost, well-a-day! Xerxes managed all things haplessly in his ocean-barks. Oh! why was not Darius at that time in command, so safe a master of the bow to the citizens, beloved sovereign of Susa? The ships, all winged alike and with dark-stained beaks, carried forth both our land forces and our marines, O gods! and ships destroyed them, ah! well-a-day! the ships with the deadly onslaughts of their beaks, and through the hands of the Ionians, as we hear, the king barely made his escape to the champagne and chilly tracts of Thrace. They therefore, indeed, first met their doom, alas! left by necessity, ah! around the shores of Cychreia1, woe's me! they have been drenched by the billows2. Moan, and gnash the teeth, and raise aloud the cry of sorrow; laments that shall reach the heavens, woe's me! and lengthen out the dismally-sounding shout, the piteous cry. And torn dreadfully by the sea, alas! they are lacerated by the dumb children, alas! of the unpolluted [deep,] woe's me! And the dwelling mourns its lord, bereft of him, and parents that are left childless, woe's me! advanced in age, wailing the calamities sent on them by the divinities, now hear the whole of their sorrow. And they in sooth throughout the land of Asia, no longer own the Persian sway, nor any longer pay their tribute under constraint imposed by their sovereign, nor prostrating themselves on the ground will they hold themselves in subjection: for the might of our monarch hath utterly perished. And no longer is the tongue of mortals held in check: for the people have been set at liberty to speak their mind freely, since the yoke of strength hath been loosened. And the sea-washed isle of Ajax, with its soil stained with gore, holds the [bodies] of the Persians.

My friends, whosoever is experienced in evils knows that when a sea-surge of troubles comes upon mortals, they are wont to dread all things: but when fortune glides smoothly, to feel confident that the same divinity will constantly propel their fortunes with a favourable breeze. For to me now all things are full of terror, and before my eyes appear the adverse dispensations of the gods; and there is ringing in my ears a strain not soothing; such an amazement in consequence of these horrors scares my soul. Wherefore I have come this way from my house a second time, without either car or my former pomp, bringing propitiatory drink-offerings for the sire of my child, things which are soothing charms to the dead; both, white milk, sweet for drink, from a holy cow, and the distillation of the flower-craftsman, transparent honey, along with limpid drops of a virgin fountain1, and this pure liquid from its wild mother, the glory of an ancient vine; and the fragrant fruit of the pale-green olive, that ever flourishes as to life in its leaves, is at hand, and wreathed flowers, children of the all-teeming earth. But, my friends, chaunt ye lays in accordance with these libations of the dead, and call up the divine Darius, and I will convey to the gods below these honours that are to be drank by earth.

Royal dame, venerable majesty of the Persians, do thou convey libations to the chambers beneath the earth, and we, in our lays, will implore the conductors of the dead beneath the earth to be propitious. Come, O ye holy divinities below the earth, both Earth and Mercury, and thou. monarch of the dead, send from beneath the spirit into the light of day; for if he knows any remedy2 of our ills, he alone could tell the termination more than mortals3. Does then the godlike monarch, of blessed memory, hear me as I utter the all-varied barbaric clear plaintive dismal cries? A loud outcry will I make over our utterly wretched sorrows. Does he then hear me from beneath the earth? But do thou, O Earth, and ye other rulers of the infernal regions, suffer the illustrious divinity, the god of the Persians, born in Susa, to pass from your dwellings, and send him into upper air, such an one as never heretofore Persian mould covered. Aye, dear was the man, and dear is his sepulchre, for dear was the character that it entombs. And thou, Aldoneus, that dost send the shades to this upper world, set at liberty, Aidoneus, Darius, all kingly as he was. Alas1! For as at no time he was the destroyer of men by the wasting calamities of war, so he was called by his Persians, counsellor divine; and counsellor divine he was, for he conducted the host well. Lord2, ancient lord, come, draw nigh, appear on the topmost peak3 of the mound, raising the saffrou dyed sandal of thy foot, displaying the crest of thy royal tiara. Come forth, O Darius, author of no ill: Hoa4! Show thyself, sovereign lord5, that thou mayest hear the sorrows of our sovereign, strange in their nature, and new. For some Stygian gloom is hovering over us; for all6 our youth have already sunk in ruin. Come forth, O Darius, author of no ill: Hoa! alas! alas! O thou that didst die deeply deplored by thy friends!7 O king, O king! why should these redoubled mishaps pass throughout all this thy land? All the three-banked galleys of this our land have utterly perished, so as to be no longer galleys.

O ye most trusty of the trusty! ye compeers of my youth, aged Persians, with what trouble is our city troubled? the ground groans, is smitten and torn8. And beholding my consort here near my sepulchre, I am in fear, I have received soothing libations. And ye arc wailing, standing near my sepulchre, and shouting shrill in cries that evoke the shades, ye piteously summon me. And exit is no easy matter, both in all other respects, and also inasmuch as the gods beneath the ground are better at receiving than at letting go. Notwithstanding, I having rule among them, am come; and be thou quick, that I may not be censured for the time [of my absence]. What new heavy calamity bath befallen the Persians?

I shrink in awe from looking on thee, and I shrink in awe from speaking in thy presence, by reason of my ancient reverence for thee.

But since persuaded by thy groanings I have come from below, in no wise utter a tedious tale, but concisely tell me, and complete the whole, laying aside thine awe for me.

I dread1 to comply, and I dread to speak in thy presence, telling things hateful to tell to friends.

But since the ancient dread of thy spirit is an obstacle to thee, do thou, aged partner of my bed, high-born dame, cease from these wailings and groans of thine, and give me a clear account. Human calamities will befal mankind. For many ills arise to mortals by sea, and many by land, if their more lengthened life be far protracted.

O thou who in thy prosperous lot didst excel all mortals, inasmuch as thou, so long as thou didst behold the rays of the sun, an object of envy, didst lead a continued life of happiness as a god to the Persians; now too do I envy thee dead, before thou didst witness this depth of ills. For in brief words thou shalt hear, Darius, the whole tale. In a word, the fortunes of the Persians have been utterly o'erthrown.

In what way? came there any blast of pestilence, or a rebellion on the city?

By no means; but the whole host hath been utterly destroyed about Athens.

And which of my sons led an armament thither? tell me.

Impetuous Xerxes, after draining the whole surface of the continent.