Thou, whose passing nations wept,
Wherefore hath ambition swept
Worlds that thou didst hold in fee,
Empire, awe and admiralty,
In one headlong ruin borne?
Ships perfidious, ships foresworn,
Crewless, oarless, scallop-scaled,
Ye your pride to Hellas vailed,
Hidden from the sight of suns
That gild her golden galleons!
Darius.
Trusty and well-beloved! Comrades of mine
When we were young together; now most grave
Signors of Persia, what afflicts the realm?
Earth groans and jars and frets with fevered pulse;
I see my consort standing by my tomb,
And verily I am afraid. Withal,
The cup of kind remembrance, poured in prayer,
I have received. And ye make lamentation
Beside my sepulchre in such shrill key
As calls up spirits: yea, with piteous cries
Summon me from my grave; and wayleave thence
Is hard to come by; for the infernal Gods
Love better to hold fast than to let go.
Nevertheless, with them have I prevailed,
And ye behold me! Haste! my time is short
And I would not offend. What aileth Persia?
What strange, what heavy stroke hath smitten her?
