Know that if numbers could have gained the day
Victory was ours, for the Hellenic fleet
Counted in all but thrice a hundred sail,
Of which were ten for swiftness set apart.
But with a thousand galleys Xerxes came—
His muster-roll I know—whereof the ships
For swiftness picked two hundred were and seven.
Think you herein ours was the weaker side?
Some deity against us turned the scale,
And brought confusion on our armament,
The powers of Heaven for Pallas' city fight.
ATOSSA.
Has Athens then escaped the avenger's hand?
MESSENGER.
Her walls are scatheless while her men remain.
ATOSSA.
Recount then how began the naval fight.
MESSENGER.
Lady, the origin of all our woes
Was the appearance of some evil power.
A man of Hellas from the Athenian fleet
Came forth unto thy son, King Xerxes, said
That, when the darkling shades of night came on,
His countrymen would flee, leaping aboard
Their ships, each as he might, to save their lives.
Which when King Xerxes heard, suspecting not
The Hellene's treachery nor the spite of heaven,
He gives this order to his admirals:—
As soon as daylight faded from the earth,
And darkness overspread the face of heaven,
In three divisions our main force to range,
Barring each outlet and each water-way,
And with the rest to circle Ajax' Isle;
All being warned that if the Hellenes found
A part unguarded and escaped their doom,
Each with his head should pay the penalty.
This fiat he with heart uplift sent forth,
As little knowing what the gods ordained.
Obedient to the word, our seamen all
Prepared their evening meal, then every man
In order to the rowlock lashed his oar.
Soon as the light of evening died away
And night came on, each man who plied the oar
Went to his ship with all the men-at-arms,
And the word passed along the lines of war.
Then they put forth, each in his place assigned,
And through the live-long night the captains kept
Our weary seamen toiling at the oar.
So passed the hours of darkness, yet the fleet
Of Hellas showed no sign of stealthy flight.
But when the white steeds of returning day
Suffused the land and sea with orient light,
From the Hellenic fleet the hymn of war
Pealed forth in unison, and echo loud
Rang out in answer from the rocky isle.
Amazement on the host of Asia fell
And consternation, for no thought of flight
Was in that solemn chant, but courage high,
Desire of battle, hope of victory.
Then did the trumpet, thrilling, fire all hearts.
The word was given, and with concordant sweep
Their dashing oars at once upturned the brine,
And soon their whole armada was in sight.
The right wing first came forth in fair array,
The whole fleet followed and the shout was raised
Through all the lines, "On, sons of Hellas, on;
On, for the freedom of your fatherland,
Your wives, your children, your forefathers' graves,
The temples of your gods; all are at stake."
In answer rang on our side, loud and wide,
The Persian war-cry. Time to lose was none.
At once, encountering with their brazen beaks
The squadrons met. A ship of Hellas first
Charged a Phoenician galley and stove in
Her stern-works; general then the onset grew.
At first the prowess of our Persian host
Made head, but, crowded in the narrow strait,
Our galleys, powerless mutual aid to lend,
Dashed on their consorts with their brazen beaks,
And swept each other's banks of oars away.
Meanwhile the watchful foe, surrounding them,
Charged on the rout; ship after ship went down
Before him, and the sea was lost to sight
Beneath the drifting wrecks and floating dead.
Then all resistance ended, and our ships
Plied one and all their oars in panic flight.
The foe, as 'twere a haul of tunny fish,
With splintered oars and fragments of the wreck
Assailed and slaughtered them; the waters rang
With mingled cries of death and victory,
Till night's dark veil descending closed the scene.
The sum of our disasters, though I spoke
For ten long days, I never could unfold.
Know in a word, so vast a multitude
Has never fallen in one disastrous day.