Page:Four Plays of Aeschylus (Cookson).djvu/84

72

A light indeed

To me and all my house! A glad day-break

After black mirk of night.

But Artembares

Chief of ten thousand horse, is brayed and beat

All up and down the sharp Silenian shore.

And Dadakas, the Chiliarch, struck by a spear

Dropped like an airy diver in the sea.

And Tenagon, most noble Tenagon,

True Bactrian to the core, is a wanderer now

Round Ajax' wave-washed, ocean-echoing isle.

Lilaeus, Arsames and Argétes

Fell fighting, and are ground against the rocks

That gird the steep holm where the ring-doves breed:

And Arcteus, neighbour once of inland streams,

Founts of Egyptian Nilus, and Adeues,

Yea, and Pharnuchus, weighted with the load

Of ponderous armour—three from out one ship—

Plunged overboard. The Chrysian Matallus,

Lord of ten thousand fighting men, went down.

And he who marshalled thirty thousand horse,

All black, his dark, flame-coloured, bushy beard

Dyed gules in his own gore. The Arabian

Magus, and Artames the Bactrian,

Far from the rough, stern land he chose for home,

Perished in those disastrous seas. There sank

Amistris; and Amphistreus cast away

His spear. And Ariomardus, good as brave,

To the great grief of Sardis met his death.