Xerxes Alas, wretched am I who have met this cruel doom which did not give the faintest sign of its coming! In what savage mood has Fortune trampled upon the Persian race? What misery is yet in store for me, unhappy wretch? The strength of my limbs is loosened as I look upon this aged group of citizens. Ah, Zeus, I wish that the doom of death had buried me, too, together with the men who have been laid low!
Chorus Alas, my king, for our noble army, for the high honor of Persia’s rule, and for the splendor of the men now cut off by Fate! The land bewails her native youth, slaughtered for Xerxes, who has crowded Hades with Persian slain. Many warriors, masters of the bow, our country’s pride, a great multitude of men, have perished. Alas, alas, for our trusty defence! The land of Asia, the leading power of the earth, has piteously, yes piteously, been bowed to her knees.
Xerxes Behold me, alas, a fitting subject for lamentation, born a source of ruin to my race and fatherland.
Chorus As a greeting for your return home I will lift up an ill-omened cry of woe, the voice, versed in lamentation, of a Mariandynian mourner, a wail attended by many a tear.
Xerxes Utter a strain of lamentation, plaintive and discordant. For Fortune has now veered and turned against me.
Chorus I will indeed utter the song of lamentation in commemoration of your sufferings and of our strongly-manned ships, buffeted by waves; the plaintive strain of our land which mourns its sons. And I will cry aloud in lamentation, shedding many a tear.
Xerxes Yes, for the Ionian naval force, turning the tide of battle, swept them away, the Ionian host, ravaging the dark sea and the shore of doom.
Chorus Woe! woe! cry aloud, learn about the whole disaster. Where is the rest of the multitude of your comrades? Where are those who stood by your side, such as Pharandaces, Susas, Pelagon, Dotamas, and Agdabatas, Psammis, and Susiscanes of Agbatana?
Xerxes By the shores of Salamis, dashing against its rugged shore, I left them, fallen in death from a Tyrian ship.
Chorus Woe! woe! cry aloud! Where is your beloved Pharnuchus, and the courageous Ariomardus? Where is prince Seualces, or Lilaeus of noble lineage, Memphis, Tharybis and Masistras, Artembares and Hystaechmas? This I ask you.
Xerxes Woe, woe is me! They beheld ancient and hateful Athens and with one convulsive struggle (alas, alas !) poor wretches, they lie gasping on the shore.
Chorus Did you really lose your trusty eye there, that which counted tens upon tens of thousands of the Persians, Batanochus’ son Alpistus . . . son of Sesames, Megabates’ son, Parthos and mighty Oebares, did you leave these behind? Alas, alas, the unhappy men! You speak of woe, surpassing woe, for noble Persians.
Xerxes In truth you stir yearning in me for my gallant comrades when you tell me of woe, surpassing woe, hateful and unforgettable. The heart within me cries out aloud for the wretched ones.
Chorus And yet there are others too whom we miss: Xanthis, commander of a myriad Mardian men, and warlike Anchares, Diaexis, too, and Arsaces, captains of the horse, Cegdadatas and Lythimnas, and Tolmus, insatiate in war. I marvel, that they do not follow behind around your wheeled tent.
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