The Greek Plays
Page 4
* * *
* Oscar Broneer, The Tent of Xerxes and the Greek Theater (Berkeley: University of California Publications in Classical Archaeology, vol. 1. no. 12, 1944).
PERSIANS
Translated by James Romm
This translation is based on the text of A. F. Garvie’s edition, Aeschylus: Persae (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2009).
CAST OF CHARACTERS (IN ORDER OF APPEARANCE)
CHORUS of Persian elders
ATOSSA, queen of the Persians; mother of Xerxes; widow of Darius
MESSENGER from the retreating Persian army
GHOST OF DARIUS, former king of the Persians; father of Xerxes
XERXES, king of Persia
Setting: The play takes place somewhere in the city of Susa, one of the royal seats of the Persian Empire. In the background is a council chamber. A group of old men enter, marching to the anapestic rhythm of their opening lines.
CHORUS: Here are we, the trusted ones *1
of the Persians gone to the land of Greece;
we, guards of the wealthy, gold-decked places,
chosen, as fits our age and rank,
by Xerxes himself, our lord and king,
the son of Darius,
to steward this land.
But my heart, a prophet of evil, is troubled
over the homeward return of the king
10
and of the army bright with gold.
All of the might that Asia has spawned
has departed. Howling for a young husband,
[…]*2
No messengers—riders nor runners—
have come to the Persian city.
The men of Susa and Ecbatana,
and of the ancient Kissian stronghold,*3
have set forth and left, some on horseback,
others on shipboard, and others, foot-soldiers,
20
forming the tight array of war;
Men like Amistres, Artaphrenes,
Megabates and Astaspes,
chieftains of Persia,
under-kings of the one Great King;
they are sped, heads of a mighty army,
horsemen and conquerors with the bow,
fearsome to look on, awesome in battle,
with steadfast resolve in their souls;
Artembares, stirred by the chariot’s onrush,
30
and Masistres, and the bow-master,
noble Imaeus; and Pharandaces,
and Sosthanes, the driver of horses.
Others have gone, sent forth by the Nile,*4
that great and much-nurturing stream: Sousicanes,
Pegastagon, the scion of Egypt,
and lofty Arsames, who governs
in holy Memphis; Ariomardus,
overseer of ancient Thebes;
and treaders of marshes,*5 now rowers of ships,
40
fearsome, numberless in their throng.
Following these went the host of the Lydians,
soft-living men, who control those who dwell
on a continent’s shores;*6 these Mitragathes
and noble Arcteus, royal commanders,
and the gold-covered city of Sardis sent out,
riding on chariots, some pulled by two teams,
others by three, dread weapons of war,
a fearsome sight to behold.
Dwellers on sacred Tmolus,*7 they hasten
50
to throw a slavish yoke upon Greece;
Mardon, Tharubis—anvils to spearheads—*8
and javelin-hurling Mysians.
Babylon, too,
the gold-covered city, sends forth a mixed throng
in a straggling line; these are stationed on ships,
stalwart with strength that draws back the bow.
From all of Asia there follows the race
that wields the dagger,*9
heeding the awesome call of the king.
Such is the flower of men now gone
60
from Persian land,
for whom every corner of Asia, their nursemaid,
groans and laments with terrible longing.
Parents and wives are trembling in fear
at the long stretch of time, the accounting of days.*10
strophe
By now the royal, city-sacking host
has crossed the straits and gone to lands adjacent,
70
linking with hemp-bound raft the gap that Helle swam,*11
throwing a many-bolted yoke on the neck of the sea, a new roadway.
antistrophe
Bold in assault, the leader of much-peopled Asia*12
drives his divine flock over the entire earth
in double advance, on foot and by sea,*13 trusting commanders
80
who stay firm and true—a godlike man from a race of gold.
strophe
He casts with his eyes the dark-blue glance of a murderous serpent;
he has great throngs of men and of ships, and he drives a Syrian chariot;
onto spear-famed men he hurls the bow-wielding war-god, Ares.*14
antistrophe
No one, we think, will stand up against the vast human river,
90
or keep out invincible waves of the sea by using stout bulwarks;
the host of the Persians cannot be attacked; strong of heart is our race.
strophe
Our god-sent Fate, from long ago,
sends victory; it charges the Persians
with tower-toppling wars,
105
with whirling swarms of horsemen, and with smashings of cities.
antistrophe
And they have learned to look upon
110
the briny grove of the far-faring sea
as the raging storm-wind whips it white,
114
relying on fine-stranded cables, and inventions for carrying troops.*15
epode*16
93
What mortal man can dodge the trick-filled deceptions of god?
Who thus has mastered the easy leap with a nimble foot?
Kindly and wheedling at first comes reckless Atē,*17
but then she leads men into nets and snares;
100
no mortal man can jump over, or hope to escape.
strophe
Thus is my heart robed in black and torn by terror.
117
“Oā!*18 for the Persian army”—
I dread that the city may hear this and learn
that Susa’s great fortress is emptied,
antistrophe
and the Kissians’ city will sing in reply
122
“Oā!”
while throngings of women hear this word
125
and the rending of linen clothes begins.
strophe
All the horse-borne host and all the foot-borne host
went out like a swarm of bees, following the army’s chieftain,
130
passing the headland that juts in the sea, land shared by two lands,
a double yoke bridging them both.*19
antistrophe
Beds that once held husbands now hold longing and tears;
the women of Persia, soft in their grief, are left alone,
each bidding farewell to her bedmate, the charging spear-man, with longing.
They’re yoke-mates alone in the yoke.
140
Persians!*20 Dwellers beneath
this ancient roof,*21
let us take thought, careful and deep;
the need has arrived:
How will he fare, Xerxes our king,
the son of Darius?
Is it the twang of the bow that has won,
or the might of the blade
that tips the spear?*22
150
But look! A light like the eyes of th
e gods,
the mother of our king, is coming,
my queen; I kneel before her.
We all must address her
with words of greeting.
(Atossa enters, on a chariot, finely arrayed.)
Hail, majesty, loftiest of deep-girt Persian women,
ancient mother of Xerxes, wife of Darius that was.
You are the spouse of one Persian god,*23 and a second one’s mother—
unless the divinity’s gone that has always guided the army.
ATOSSA: That’s it—That’s why I’ve left my gold-decked palace and come here,
160
left the bedroom of Darius, the room he and I once shared.
For worries are tearing my heart. I’ll confide it in you, my friends.
I can’t escape the warnings, the growing sense of fear—the fear that
our great wealth, with a cloud of dust, may upset with a kick
the success my husband, Darius, brought us—he, and one of the gods.
I cannot express this double concern that troubles my mind:
a great store of wealth, without men to guard it, has no place of honor,
yet the light does not shine on men who lack wealth to match their power.
We have wealth enough, no fault there. Yet fear sits before my eyes.
The master’s presence, to my mind, is like the eye of the house.
170
Therefore, since this is the state of things, take counsel with me
on what I’m about to say, you Persians, my old, trusted friends.
All my plans are in your hands; help make them wise.
CHORUS: Know this well, my country’s queen: you only need ask once
for any word or deed that lies within my power to grant.
The counselors you call in this matter are well-disposed to help you.
ATOSSA:*24 I’ve often been beset by dreams at night,
ever since the day my son dispatched the army
to the land of the Ionians,*25 hoping to take it.
But never yet did I see one so vivid
180
as the dream I had last night. Let me describe it.
Two women appeared to me, both finely dressed,
one in the robes that Persian women wear,
the other in Doric dress.*26 They seemed to be
far taller than the women one sees today,
and flawless in their beauty. They were sisters,
born from the same race; one dwelt in Greece,
her home by lot; the other, non-Greek land.*27
A discord then arose between these two,
or so I seemed to see; my son saw this
190
and tried to get control and calm them down;
he yoked them to a chariot, put halter-straps
below their necks. One gloried in this gear;
her mouth was pacified by bit and reins;
the other grew unquiet, and with her hands
she smashed the chariot’s gear and dragged it off
by force, now free of reins; she breaks the yoke
in two. Out falls my son; his father, standing there,
Darius, pities him; when Xerxes sees him,
he tears the robes he wears about his body.
200
That was what I saw in sleep last night.
When I awoke I dipped my hands in a spring
of sweet water; then, prompt with offerings,
I went to an altar, bringing a honey-meal cake,
a sacrifice for the gods who turn away evils.
But I glimpsed an eagle fleeing toward Phoebus’ shrine;
I stopped right there, friends, and stood speechless with fright:
for the next thing I saw was a falcon, flying full speed,
harassing the eagle with wings and tearing its head
with talons; the eagle had no defense but to cower,
210
surrendering itself. This bred terror in me as I watched,
now in you as you hear.
You can be certain of this:
If my son fares well, he will be a man worthy of wonder.
If he fares ill—But he can’t be held to account.*28
If he gets out alive, either way, he’ll still rule this land.
CHORUS: Mother of our king, we urge you to have neither too much fear
nor too much confidence. Beseech the gods with offerings,
ask them to avert the dream, if you’ve seen some meaningless phantom.
Pray that good things come to pass for yourself, for your children,
for the city, and for all your friends. Next, you must pour libations
220
to Earth, and to souls of the dead. Seek their favor, and ask them this:
that your husband, Darius, the one whom you say you see in your dream,
send blessings for you and your son, from below ground up to the daylight,
and that things without blessing stay fast in the earth and covered by shadow.
I advise this out of goodwill for you; I’m a prophet who sees with the heart.
We think that the outcome of all this for you will be nothing but good.
ATOSSA: Yes! You, the first to interpret these dreams, the one who delivered
this prophecy, you show kindness to both my son and my household.
May all turn out well.
(Indicating the offerings she has brought)
All of these we shall set out, as you counsel,
for the gods and for our loved ones who died and went below ground,
as soon as we return home.
230
Friends, here’s something I’d like to know:
Where’s this Athens they talk of? In what part of the earth does it lie?
CHORUS: Far away, in the direction of where lord Helios sets.
ATOSSA: Really? And yet my son longs to bring down this faraway city?
CHORUS: Yes, for if he succeeds, all of Greece would be under the King.
ATOSSA: They have such an army, such numbers of men, to accomplish all that?
CHORUS: […]
ATOSSA: […]*29
CHORUS: Yes, and such a large army as once did much harm to the Medes.
239
ATOSSA: Is it the bow-drawn blade in their hands that gives them such glory?
240
CHORUS: No, indeed. It’s their shields and the spears that they wield, standing firm.
237
ATOSSA: What else besides this? Do their royal houses hold adequate measures of wealth?
238
CHORUS: They have some fountain of silver, a treasury straight from the earth.*30
241
ATOSSA: Who is the shepherd that drives their army? What master compels them?
CHORUS: It is said they are neither subject nor slaves of any such man.
ATOSSA: What? But then how could they hold their own against warlike invaders?
CHORUS: They do—they destroyed the fine and full-numbered host of Darius.*31
ATOSSA: Your words bring fear to the minds of the parents of those on the march.
CHORUS: (looking offstage) But it seems that soon you will know the entire truth of this matter.
This man who comes here on the run distinctly looks to be Persian.
He brings some clear news of events, whether fine things, or evils, to hear.
MESSENGER:*32 (entering on the run) You cities all across the land of Asia,
250
And you, my Persis, reservoir of wealth,
how great is the success that’s been brought down
by a single blow. The flower of Persian youth
is fallen. Cry Oh! It’s an evil to first announce evils.
And yet, necessity bids me unfold the whole woe.
Persians: our entire army has been destroyed.
strophe
CHORUS: Agony, agony—fresh wounds, and
deep ones. aiai! W
eep,
Persians, as you hear them.
260
MESSENGER: Yes, since all we had is brought to ruin.
Beyond my hopes, I see the light of home.
antistrophe
CHORUS: Too long the time of life
for us old men, who hear
of this unlooked-for woe.
MESSENGER: I tell you, I was there. My tale of evils
did not arise from other men’s reports.
strophe
CHORUS: (lamenting) otototoi!*33
In vain the varied weapons
270
went out from Asian land
to attack implacable Hellas.
MESSENGER: The shores of Salamis and nearby lands
are heaped with bodies of the ill-fated dead.
antistrophe
CHORUS: otototoi! You tell of
corpses of friends, rock-smashed, sea-dipped,
life departed, carried about
in robes that drift with the tide.
MESSENGER: Their archery failed them. The whole force was destroyed
and mastered by rammings made by ships.
strophe
280
CHORUS: Call out the mournful cry,
the cry of ill fate for our fighters;
the gods have made everything wretched.
aiai, for the loss of the army.
MESSENGER: Hateful the name of Salamis, hateful to hear!
I groan as I bring Athens back to mind.
antistrophe
CHORUS: Athens! Reviled by her foes!
We remember as well.
Athens made many Persian women
husbandless, uselessly wed.*34
290
ATOSSA: I’ve held my tongue till now, struck dumb by evils.
Beyond all limit stretches our disaster—
sufferings too great to speak or ask about.
And yet, necessity makes us mortals bear
the pains the gods bestow. Stand and speak;
disclose, though groaningly, what they endured.
Who’s not yet dead? Or who among the leaders