come from the host of late; the land is empty, all are gone to the war; and a gloomy desolation, not unmixed with apprehension, makes wives and parents
"Count the slow days,
And tremble at the long protracted time."
The chant contains a catalogue of nobles who are gone;—a list of sounding names, diversified with picturesque circumstances, reminding us of the roll of the fallen angels in Milton, or the lists of dead warriors in Homer:—
"Amistres, Artaphernes, and the might
Of great Astaspes; Megabazes bold . . .
Artembares, that in his fiery horse
Delights: Masistres; and Imœus bold,
Bending with manly strength his stubborn bow;
Pharandaces, and Sosthenes that drives
With military pomp his rapid steeds."
From sacred Nile and Memphis; Lycians, the sons of luxury; foresters from far inland; troops from Euphrates and golden Babylon; Mysians who wield the javelin; Mardon from Tmolus, and Tharybis and Arcteus—all are gone forth to battle, and Persia is desolate and sad.
Some have found in this opening a burlesque of Persian names intended to amuse the Athenians: we may rather regard it as showing, what we have seen before, how Æschylus shares with Homer and Milton and Scott that power over names, which is one of the surest signs, says Mr Palgrave, of high poetic talent.
When the Chorus have reached the orchestra, their
