_Atoss._ Yes, thus I come, our gold-decked palace leaving, The bridal bower Dareios with me slept in. Care gnaws my heart, but now I tell you plainly A tale, my friends, which may not leave me fearless, Lest boastful wealth should stumble at the threshold, And with his foot o'erturn the prosperous fortune That great Dareios raised with Heaven's high blessing. And twofold care untold my bosom haunteth: We may not honour wealth that has no warriors, Nor on the poor shines light to strength proportioned; Wealth without stint we have, yet for our eye we tremble; 170 For as the eye of home I deem a master's presence. Wherefore, ye Persians, aid me now in counsel; Trusty and old, in you lies hope of wisdom. _Chor._ Queen of our land! be sure thou need'st not utter Or thing or word twice o'er, which power may point to; Thou bid'st us counsel give who fain would serve thee. _Atoss._ Ever with many visions of the night[19] Am I encompassed, since my son went forth, Leading a mighty host, with aim to sack The land of the Ionians. But ne'er yet 180 Have I beheld a dream so manifest As in the night just past. And this I'll tell thee: There stood by me two women in fair robes; And this in Persian garments was arrayed, And that in Dorian came before mine eyes; In stature both of tallest, comeliest size; And both of faultless beauty, sisters twain Of the same stock.[20] And they twain had their homes, One in the Hellenic, one in alien land. And these two, as I dreamt I saw, were set 190 At variance with each other. And my son Learnt it, and checked and mollified their wrath, And yokes them to his chariot, and his collar He places on their necks. And one was proud Of that equipment,[21] and in harness gave Her mouth obedient; but the other kicked, And tears the chariot's trappings with her hands, And rushes off uncurbed, and breaks its yoke Asunder. And my son falls low, and then His father comes, Dareios, pitying him. And lo! when Xerxes sees him, he his clothes 200 Rends round his limbs. These things I say I saw In visions of the night; and when I rose, And dipped my hands in fountain flowing clear,[22] I at the altar stood with hand that bore Sweet incense, wishing holy chrism to pour To the averting Gods whom thus men worship. And I beheld an eagle in full flight To Phœbos' altar-hearth; and then, my friends, 210 I stood, struck dumb with fear; and next I saw A kite pursuing, in her wingèd course, And with his claws tearing the eagle's head, Which did nought else but crouch and yield itself. Such terrors it has been my lot to see, And yours to hear: For be ye sure, my son, If he succeed, will wonder-worthy prove; But if he fail, still irresponsible He to the people, and in either case, He, should he but return, is sovereign still.[23]