Atossa.
O thou in happy fortune blest beyond the lot of mortals,
In envied glory, while thine eyes still gazed upon the sunlight,
Leading a life of happiness, a god unto the Persians.
Happy, in sooth, I deem thee now, dying before thou sawest
Our depth of ill. Thou in brief space the tale shall hear, Darius.
In utter ruin, so to speak, prostrate lies Persia's fortune. 710
Darius.
How, prithee? Came contagion's blast or discord o'er the city?
Atossa.
By neither, but near Athens' walls hath our whole host been routed.
Darius.
What son of mine an armament hath thither led? Inform me.
Atossa.
Impetuous Xerxes, all the life of wide-spread Asia draining.
Darius.
By land or sea, unhappy man, made be this mad endeavour?
Atossa.
By both in sooth; a twofold front there was of twofold army.
