Page:Four Plays of Aeschylus (Cookson).djvu/116

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So great a host, and all are gone!

And I am left, a thing men look upon

And weep and wail!

O royal Persian!

What hast thou not lost?

Nay, behold and see

Of sumptuous superfluity

The poor remains: the remnant left to me!

Yea, yea; thou hast lost ships, men, gear—

But worse remains: all Persia's power is here,

Clapped in the compass of an arrow-case!

Ye gods, into how little space

Is crept thy treasure still unspent!

Yet in this quiver there is room enough

To hold the relics of my armament.

Of bag and baggage, store and stuff,

Artillery and equipage, O King,

Hast thou brought back safe home this despicable thing?