Of captured fishes, the Hellenès, armed
With splint of oar, or fragment from the wreck,
Batter'd, and clave with dislocating blows.
Shrieks and loud wailing filled the ocean brine,
Till all 'neath eye of swarthy night was lost. 430
But all our losses, though for ten whole days
I told them over, could I not recount.
Of this be sure, that never in one day
Perished of men so vast a multitude.
Atossa.
Woe! Woe! Of ills a mighty sea hath burst
On Persia, and on all the Asian race.
Messenger.
Be thou assured, but half our loss thou knowest;
Upon them came calamity so vast
As twice to overweigh the ills yet told.
Atossa.
What Fortune could than this more hostile be? 440
Say, what this woe which came, as thou dost state,
Upon the host, charged with still heavier bale?
Messenger.
All Persia's sons, in fairest bloom of life,
Bravest of soul, pre-eminent by birth,
And to the king himself still first in trust,—
These died ignobly, by inglorious doom.
Atossa.
Ah wretched me, my friends, for deadly chance!
But say, what form of ruin these o'erwhelm'd?
