Atossa.
And the fruit of his great folly we behold in matchless woes.
Darius.
I have heard your wailings: tell me more exact the dismal chance.
Atossa.
First the whole sea host being ruined brought like ruin on the foot.
Darius.
By the hostile spear of Hellas they have perished one and all?
Atossa.
Ay. The citadel of Susa, emptied of her children, moans.