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Rh which owned his rule. The incredible numbers which the historians assign to his forces are well known; at the lowest calculation they far exceeded the greatest hosts of modern times. But wealth, when it has given birth to pride, always brings ruin on its possessor. Overweening confidence is, in the Greek creed, an insult to the gods, and cannot fail to call down their wrath. Such was the fate of Xerxes. Checked at Thermopylæ, routed at Salamis, driven home in confusion to his own shores, followed thither by losses and defeat, the Great King became a spectacle to all men of the vanity of greatness when it is not guarded by moderation. Now for five years at least the Persian power has lain prostrate at the feet of Greece, and men have had time to learn the lesson which her misfortunes teach.

Such are perhaps the reflections which pass through the Athenian's mind when he hears it announced that the next play is to be "The Persians."

The curtain rises on a splendid scene of Eastern magnificence. It is Susa, the Persian capital, the abode of fabulous wealth, though now so humbled. The Chorus enter with the usual stately march, and with more than the usual gorgeousness of dress. They are the state councillors of the Great King, who, under the queen-mother Atossa, guard the dominions of their absent master. As they advance towards the orchestra they sing, in their processional hymn, a strain of anxiety and sad foreboding. No messengers have