Xerxes Quotes

Now now, Emily, it isn't nice to tell the truth.

A is for Amy who fell down the stairs. B is for Basil assaulted by bears. C is for Clara who wasted away. D is for Desmond thrown out of a sleigh. E is for Ernest who choked on a peach. F is for Fanny sucked dry by a leech. G is for George smothered under a rug. H is for Hector done in by a thug. I is for Ida who drowned in a lake. J is for James who took lye by mistake. K is for Kate who was struck with an axe. L is for Leo who choked on some tacks. M is for Maud who was swept out to sea. N is for Neville who died of ennui. O is for Olive run through with an awl. P is for Prue trampled flat in a brawl. Q is for Quentin who sank on a mire. R is for Rhoda consumed by a fire. S is for Susan who perished of fits. T is for Titus who flew into bits. U is for Una who slipped down a drain. V is for Victor squashed under a train. W is for Winnie embedded in ice. X is for Xerxes devoured by mice. Y is for Yorick whose head was bashed in. Z is for Zillah who drank too much gin.

Go now, run along and tell your Xerxes that he faces free men here, not slaves

For a long while I have believed – this is perhaps my version of Sir Darius Xerxes Cama’s belief in a fourth function of outsideness – that in every generation there are a few souls, call them lucky or cursed, who are simply born not belonging, who come into the world semi-detached, if you like, without strong affiliation to family or location or nation or race; that there may even be millions, billions of such souls, as many non-belongers as belongers, perhaps; that, in sum, the phenomenon may be as “natural” a manifestation of human nature as its opposite, but one that has been mostly frustrated, throughout human history, by lack of opportunity. And not only by that: for those who value stability, who fear transience, uncertainly, change, have erected a powerful system of stigmas and taboos against rootlessness, that disruptive, anti-social force, so that we mostly conform, we pretend to be motivated by loyalties and solidarities we do not really feel, we hide our secret identities beneath the false skins of those identities which bear the belongers’ seal of approval. But the truth leaks out in our dreams; alone in our beds (because we are all alone at night, even if we do not sleep by ourselves), we soar, we fly, we flee. And in the waking dreams our societies permit, in our myths, our arts, our songs, we celebrate the non-belongers, the different ones, the outlaws, the freaks. What we forbid ourselves we pay good money to watch, in a playhouse or a movie theater, or to read about between the secret covers of a book. Our libraries, our palaces of entertainment tell the truth. The tramp, the assassin, the rebel, the thief, the mutant, the outcast, the delinquent, the devil, the sinner, the traveler, the gangster, the runner, the mask: if we did not recognize in them our least-fulfilled needs, we would not invent them over and over again, in every place, in every language, in every time.

Xerxes: It isn't wise to stand against me, Leonidas. Imagine what horrible fate awaits my enemies when I would gladly kill any of my own men for victory. King Leonidas: And I would die for any one of mine.

A small part of me noticed how hot Xerxes looked while licking blood off a dagger. I ignored that part of myself. She was unwell and beyond saving.

The sight of a certain depressed-to-the-max head of seaweed has made me quite ill.

All over Greece, strangers of a certain age will greet one another with the question, "And where were you and what did you do when Xerxes came to Marathon?" Then they exchange lies.

I am the sun I am the sea I am the one By infinity I am the spark I am the light I am the dark And I am the night I am Iran I am Xerxes I am Zal’s son And I am a beast I am God’s own Emissary Colour my heart Red, white and green I am Ferdowsi I am Hafez I am Saadi Rolled all in one breath Ibn Sina Omar Khayyam Look at me now Bundled in one I am the present I am the past I am the future My presence will last I am Ismail My soul is unleashed ‘Till the day at least The sun sets in the east

I believe that Periander or Perdiccas or Xerxes or Ismenias the Theban, or some other rich and mighty man, who had a great opinion of his own power, was the first to say that justice is ’doing good to your friends and harm to your enemies.

Wherever we are posted, there we stand, come life or death, to the end.

That demon you met, Xerxes. He works for a fifth-level demon named Vald.

Xerxes was just as determined as his father had been

Xerxes does not want your lives, sir,” Tommie called. “Only your arms.” Leonidas laughed. “Tell him to come and get them.

Was there a nation in Asia that Xerxes did not take with him against Greece? Was there a river, except the greatest, that his army did not drink dry?

That's why war--explicitly in Clausewitz, implicitly in Tolstoy--must reflect policy. For when policy reflects war, it's because some high-level hedgehog--a Xerxes, or a Napoleon--has fallen in love with war, making it an end in itself. They'll stop only when they've bled themselves bloodless. And so the culminating points of their offensives are self-defeat.

Xerxes rasped softly, “I want to show you my nest.” My heart skipped a beat. I whispered softly, “Do you lay eggs?” Had I missed the signs all along? Was Xerxes part bird, part kitten?

I felt unsteady as I lead Xerxes to his seat. Women in his kingdom were but dressing for a man's bed and a satisfactory way to provide heirs. The king had once banished a queen on the advice of his counsel. Now would he accept the word of his queen and banish the adviser? Dear God, I pleaded silently, how can it be that I should change history? I am a prisoner myself – how can I asked for the freedom of a nation?

The prudent leader “dreads and reflects on everything that can happen to him but is bold when he is in the thick of action.” Xerxes listens patiently, but objects that “if you were to take account of everything . . . , you would never do anything. It is better to have a brave heart and endure one half of the terrors we dread than to [calculate] all of the terrors and suffer nothing at all. . . . Big things are won by big dangers.

And seeing all the Hellespont covered over with the ships and all the shores and the plains of Abydos full of men, then Xerxes pronounced himself a happy man, and after that he fell to weeping. Artabanus, his uncle, therefore perceiving him the same who at first boldly declared his opinion advising Xerxes not to march against Hellas-this man, I say, having observed that Xerxes wept, asked as follows: 'O king, how far different from one another are the things which thou hast done now and a short while before now! for having pronounced thyself a happy man, thou art now shedding tears.' He said : 'Yea, for after I had reckoned up, it came into my mind to feel pity at the thought how brief was the whole life of man, seeing that of these multitudes not one will be alive when a hundred years have gone by.

There was no politics in Persia because the great king was the master of slaves, not rulers of citizens. The point is beautifully made by Herodotus, the father of history and our own starting point. The exiled Spartan king, Demaratus, had taken refuge at the court of the great king of Persia, Darius I, in 491 BCE. Darius made him the ruler of Pergamum and some other cities. In 480 Darius's son and successor, Xerxes, took him to see the enormous army he had assembled to avenge his father's humiliation by the Athenians in an earlier attempt to conquer Greece. 'Surely,' he said to Demaratus, "the Greeks will not fight against such odds.' He was displeased when Demaratus assured him that they certainly would. 'How is it possible that a thousand men-- or ten thousand, or fifty thousand should stand up to an army as big as mine, especially if they were not under a single master but all perfectly free to do as they pleased?' He could understand that they might feign courage if they were whipped into battle as his Persian troops would be, but it was absurd to suppose that they would fight against such odds. Not a bit of it, said Demaratus. THey would fight and die to preserve their freedom. He added, 'They are free--yes--but they are not wholly free; for they have a master, and that master is Law, which they fear much more than your subjects fear you. Whatever this master commands they do; and his command never varies: it is never to retreat in battle, however great the odds, but always to remain in formation and to conquer or die.' They were Citizens, not subjects, and free men, not slaves; they were disciplined but self-disciplined. Free men were not whipped into battle.

For the misfortunes that befall us and the illnesses that harass us make even a short life seem long. And so because life is a hardship, death proves to be a human being's most welcome escape, and the god, who gives us merely a taste of sweetness in life, is revealed to be a jealous deity.

This headland was [34] the point to which Xerxes’ engineers carried their two bridges from Abydos – a distance of seven furlongs. One was constructed by the Phoenicians using flax cables, the other by the Egyptians with papyrus cables. The work was successfully completed, but a subsequent storm of great violence smashed it up and carried everything away. Xerxes was very angry when he [35] learned of the disaster, and gave orders that the Hellespont should receive three hundred lashes and have a pair of fetters thrown into it. I have heard before now that he also sent people to brand it with hot irons. He certainly instructed the men with the whips to utter, as they wielded them, the barbarous and presumptuous words: ‘You salt and bitter stream, your master lays this punishment upon you for injuring him, who never injured you. But Xerxes the King will cross you, with or without your permission. No man sacrifices to you, and you deserve the neglect by your acid and muddy waters.’ In addition to punishing the Hellespont Xerxes gave orders that the men responsible for building the bridges should have their heads cut off.17 The men who received these invidious orders duly carried them [36] out, and other engineers completed the work.

The Greeks thought of culture as character. It was predictability across scale: the behavior of a city, a state, or a people in small things, big things, and those in between. 32 Knowing who they were and what they wanted, the Spartans were wholly predictable. They saw no need to change themselves or anyone else. The Athenians’ strategy of walling their cities, however, had reshaped their character, obliging them restlessly to roam the world. Because they had changed, they would have to change others—that’s what having an empire means—but how many, to what extent, and by what means? No one, not even Pericles, could easily say. Pericles was not Xerxes. “I am more afraid of our own blunders than of the enemy’s devices,” he admitted as war approached. Knowing that the Athenians’ empire could not expand indefinitely, Pericles “unsparingly pruned and cut down their ever busy fancies,” Plutarch explained, “supposing it would be quite enough for them to do, if they could keep the [Spartans] in check.” 33 But as Pericles’ agents acknowledged before the Spartan assembly, allowing the empire the equality he celebrated within the city could cause contraction, perhaps even collapse.

If only humankind would soon succeed in destroying itself; true, I'm afraid : it will take a long time yet, but they'll manage it for sure. They'll have to learn to fly too, so that it will be easier to toss firebrands into cities (a pretty sight : a portly, bronze boat perhaps, from which a couple of mail-clad warriors contemptuously hurl a few flaming armored logs, while from below they shoot at the scaly beasts with howling arrows. They could also easily pour burning oil out of steel pitchers. Or poison. In the wells. By night). Well, they'll manage it all right (if I can come up with that much !). For they pervert all things to evil. The alphabet : it was intended to record timeless poetry or wisdom or memories - but they scrawl myriads of trashy novels and inflammatory pamphlets. What do they deftly make of metals ? Swords and arrow tips. - Fire ? Cities are already smoldering. And in the agora throng the pickpockets and swashbucklers, cutpurses, bawds, quacks and whores. And at best, the rest are simpletons, dandies, and brainless yowlers. And every one of them self-complacent, pretending respectability, bows politely, puffs out coarse cheeks, waves his hands, ogles, jabbers, crows. (They have many words : Experienced : someone who knows plenty of the little underhanded tricks. - Mature : has finally unlearned every ideal. Sophisticated : impertinent and ought to have been hanged long ago.) Those are the small fry; and the : every statesman, politician, orator; prince, general, officer should be throttled on the spot before he has time or opportunity to earn the title at humankind's expense. - Who alone can be great ? Artists and scientists ! And no one else ! And the least of them, if an honest man, is a thousand times greater than the great Xerxes. - If the gods would grant me 3 wishes, one of them would be immediately to free the earth of humankind. And of animals, too (they're too wicked for me as well). Plants are better (except for the insectavores) - The wind has picked up.

Ferris had nearly gotten it right. In that single day 713,646 people had paid to enter Jackson Park. (Only 31,059—four percent—were children.) Another 37,380 visitors had entered using passes, bringing the total admission for the day to 751,026, more people than had attended any single day of any peaceable event in history. The Tribune argued that the only greater gathering was the massing of Xerxes’ army of over five million souls in the fifth century B.C. The Paris record of 397,000 had indeed been shattered. When the news reached Burnham’s shanty, there were cheers and champagne and stories through the night. But the best news came the next day, when officials of the World’s Columbian Exposition Company, whose boasts had been ridiculed far and wide, presented a check for $ 1.5 million to the Illinois Trust and Savings Company and thereby extinguished the last of the exposition’s debts. The Windy City had prevailed.

Before coming to the Black Wood, I had read as widely in tree lore as possible. As well as the many accounts I encountered of damage to trees and woodland -- of what in German is called Waldsterben, or 'forest-death' -- I also met with and noted down stories of astonishment at woods and trees. Stories of how Chinese woodsmen in the T'ang and S'ung dynasties -- in obedience to the Taoist philosophy of a continuity of nature between humans and other species -- would bow to the trees which they felled, and offer a promise that the tree would be used well, in buildings that would dignify the wood once it had become timber. The story of Xerxes, the Persian king who so loved sycamores that, when marching to war with the Greeks, he halted his army of many thousands of men in order that they might contemplate and admire one outstanding specimen. Thoreau's story of how he felt so attached to the trees in the woods around his home-town of Concord, Massachusetts, that he would call regularly on them, gladly tramping 'eight or ten miles through the deepest snow to keep an appointment with a beech-tree, or yellow-birch, or an old acquaintance among the pines. When Willa Cather moved to the prairies of Nebraska, she missed the wooded hills of her native Virginia. Pining for trees, she would sometimes travel south 'to our German neighbors, to admire their catalpa grove, or to see the big elm tree that grew out of a crack in the earth. Trees were so rare in that country that we used to feel anxious about them, and visit them as if they were persons'....

Neither Xerxes nor Artabanus, therefore, would have passed F. Scott Fitzgerald’s test, from 1936, for a first-rate intelligence: “the ability to hold two opposed ideas in the mind at the same time, and still retain the ability to function.” 21 Fitzgerald may have intended nothing more than a reproach to himself. His writing career had stalled by then, and four years later he would die, of alcoholism, heart disease, and an obscurity made all the more painful by his earlier fame. He was only forty-four. 22 But the cryptic capaciousness of his aphorism, like Berlin’s on foxes and hedgehogs, has made it immortal. The Delphic oracle would have been envious. 23 One possible meaning for Fitzgerald’s opposites could be taking the best from contradictory approaches while rejecting the worst: precisely the compromise that Xerxes and Artabanus failed to reach twenty-four centuries earlier. How, though, might you do that? It’s easy to see how two minds can reach opposite conclusions, but can opposites coexist peacefully within one? They certainly didn’t in Fitzgerald’s, whose life was as tortured as Tolstoy’s, and half the length.

It would be a more serious objection, if true, to say that all these feelings are remote from us, and that poetry should be drawn from what is true and near at hand. Art derived from the most familiar reality does exist, and its range is perhaps the greatest. But it is nonetheless true that great interest, sometimes even beauty, can spring from actions which derive from a mode of thinking and feeling so remote from anything we feel, anything we believe, that we cannot even begin to understand them, that they unfold before us like an unexplained spectacle. What is more poetic than Xerxes, son of Darius, having the sea whipped with rods, the sea that had swallowed up his fleet?

If we win today, we will win the right to fight again tomorrow!’ I said. ‘That is all we will win today. And if we win tomorrow . . .’ I smiled. ‘Then we win the right to fight again the next day – and the next and the next until the Great King wearies of the contest or he runs out of slaves or we run out of free men to face him. And if we win? If we defeat the Great King?’ I held up my wounded hand. Some men cheered. ‘Then we win the right to fight him again the next time he comes against us. This is what freedom is. The Great King has no idea how poor we are, or what we have in herds or in olive trees. He seeks only to own us.’ I smiled to think of Xerxes in his hall in Susa, who was attacking us mostly to satisfy Mardonius. And for pride. ‘We must win today, and tomorrow, and again the day after, and then we must go home and train our sons to win again,

Fifty years elapsed between the retreat of Xerxes and the beginning of the war; during these years took place all those operations of the Hellenes against one another and against the Barbarian which I have been describing. The Athenians acquired a firmer hold over their empire and the city itself became a great power. The Lacedaemonians saw what was going on, but during most of the time they remained inactive and hardly attempted to interfere. They had never been of a temper prompt to take the field unless they were compelled; and they were in some degree embarrassed by wars near home. But the Athenians were growing too great to be ignored and were laying hands on their allies.They could now bear it no longer: they made up their minds that they must put out all their strength and overthrow the Athenian power by force of arms. And therefore they commenced the Peloponnesian War. (Book 1 Chapter 118.2)

One of the earliest records of calisthenics training was handed down to us by the historian Herodotus, who recounts that prior to the Battle of Thermopolylae (c.480 BC) the god-king Xerxes sent a party of scouts to look down over the valley at his hopelessly outnumbered Spartan enemies, led by their king, Leonidas. To the amazement of Xerxes, the scouts reported back that the Spartan warriors were busy training their bodies with calisthenics. Xerxes had no idea what to make of this, since it looked as though they were limbering up for battle. The idea was laughable, because beyond the valley lay Xerxes’ Persian army, numbering over one hundred and twenty thousand men. There were only three hundred Spartans. Xerxes sent messages to the Spartans telling them to move or be destroyed. The Spartans refused and during the ensuing battle the tiny Spartan force succeeded in holding Xerxes’ massive army at bay until the other Greek forces coalesced. You might have seen a dramatization of this battle in Zac Snyder’s epic movie 300 (2007).

And still I had not admitted to myself that I should have stopped seeing Albertine long before, for she had entered, in relation to me, that wretched period when a being, dispersed in space and time, is no longer a woman in our eyes, but a series of events on which we cannot shed light, a series of insoluble problems, a sea which, like Xerxes, we absurdly try to beat, to punish it for all that it has swallowed up. Once this period has begun, one is inevitably defeated. Happy are those who see it in time not to be drawn into a useless, exhausting battle, surrounded on all sides by the limits of our imagination, where jealousy struggles so humiliatingly that the same man who once, if the eyes of his constant companion fell for a moment on another man, imagined a conspiracy, suffered who knows what torments, may later allow her to go out alone, sometimes with the man he knows is her lover, choosing this torture which is at least familiar in preference to the terrible unknown. It is a question of finding a rhythm which one afterward follows from habit.

Fame is of that force, as there is scarcely any great action wherein it hath not a great part, especially in the war. Mucianus undid Vitellius by a fame that he scattered, that Vitellius had in purpose to remove the legions of Syria into Germany, and the legions of Germany into Syria; whereupon the legions of Syria were infinitely inflamed. Julius Cæsar took Pompey unprovided, and laid asleep his industry and preparations by a fame that he cunningly gave out, how Cæsar’s own soldiers loved him not; and being wearied with the wars, and laden with the spoils of Gaul, would forsake him as soon as he came into Italy. Livia settled all things for the succession of her son Tiberius, by continually giving out that her husband Augustus was upon recovery and amendment; and it is a usual thing with the bashaws to conceal the death of the Grand Turk from the janizaries and men of war, to save the sacking of Constantinople, and other towns, as their manner is. Themistocles made Xerxes, king of Persia, post apace out of Græcia, by giving out that the Grecians had a purpose to break his bridge of ships which he had made athwart Hellespont.

The inherited sense of being a higher type of creature with higher claims already makes such a man fairly cold and leaves his conscience at rest: we all, indeed, lose all feeling of injustice when the difference between ourselves and other creatures is very great, and will kill a gnat, for example, without the slightest distress of conscience. Thus it is no sign of baseness in Xerxes (whom even the Greeks depict as being outstandingly noble) when he takes a son from his father and has him dismembered because he has expressed fearful and ominous misgivings about the whole campaign they are engaged on: in this instance the individual is disposed of like an annoying insect: he is too lowly to be allowed to go on upsetting a world-ruler. Indeed, no cruel man is so cruel as he whom he has misused believes; the idea of pain is not the same thing as the suffering of it. The same applies to the unjust judge, to the journalist who misleads public opinion with petty untruths. Cause and effect are in all these cases surrounded by quite different groups of thoughts and sensations; while one involuntarily presupposes that doer and sufferer think and feel the same and, in accordance with this presupposition, assesses the guilt of the one by the pain of the other.

Xerxes, I read, ‘halted his unwieldy army for days that he might contemplate to his satisfaction’ the beauty of a single sycamore. You are Xerxes in Persia. Your army spreads on a vast and arid peneplain…you call to you all your sad captains, and give the order to halt. You have seen the tree with the lights in it, haven’t you? You must have. Xerxes buffeted on a plain, ambition drained in a puff. Your men are bewildered…there is nothing to catch the eye in this flatness, nothing but a hollow, hammering sky, a waste of sedge in the lee of windblown rocks, a meager ribbon of scrub willow tracing a slumbering watercourse…and that sycamore. You saw it; you will stand rapt and mute, exalted, remembering or not remembering over a period of days to shade your head with your robe. “He had its form wrought upon a medal of gold to help him remember it the rest of his life.” We all ought to have a goldsmith following us around. But it goes without saying, doesn’t it, Xerxes, that no gold medal worn around your neck will bring back the glad hour, keep those lights kindled so long as you live, forever present? Pascal saw it; he grabbed pen and paper and scrawled the one word, and wore it sewn in his shirt the rest of his life. I don’t know what Pascal saw. I saw a cedar. Xerxes saw a sycamore.

Here, till our navy of a thousand sail Have made a breakfast to our foe by sea, Let us encamp to wait their happy speed.- Lorraine, what readiness is Edward in? How hast thou heard that he provided is Of martial furniture for this exploit? Lorraine To lay aside unnecessary soothing, And not to spend the time in circumstance, 'Tis bruited for a certainty, my lord, That he's exceeding strongly fortified; His subjects flock as willingly to war As if unto a triumph they were led. Charles England was wont to harbor malcontents, Bloodthirsty and seditious Catilines, Spendthrifts, and such as gape for nothing else But changing and alteration of the state. And is it possible that they are now So loyal in themselves? Lorraine All but the Scot, who solemnly protests, As heretofore I have informed his grace, Never to sheathe his sword or take a truce. King John Ah, that's the anch'rage of some better hope. But, on the other side, to think what friends King Edward hath retained in Netherland Among those ever-bibbing epicures -- Those frothy Dutchmen puffed with double beer, That drink and swill in every place they come -- Doth not a little aggravate mine ire; Besides we hear the emperor conjoins And stalls him in his own authority. But all the mightier that their number is, The greater glory reaps the victory. Some friends have we beside domestic power: The stern Polonian, and the warlike Dane, The King of Bohemia, and of Sicily Are all become confederates with us, And, as I think, are marching hither apace. [Drums within.] But soft, I hear the music of their drums, By which I guess that their approach is near. Enter the King of Bohemia, with Danes, and a Polonian Captain with other soldiers, some Muscovites, another way. King of Bohemia King John of France, as league and neighborhood Requires when friends are any way distressed, I come to aid thee with my country's force. Polonian Captain And from great Moscow, fearful to the Turk, And lofty Poland, nurse of hardy men, I bring these servitors to fight for thee, Who willingly will venture in thy cause. King John Welcome Bohemian King, and welcome all. This your great kindness I will not forget; Besides your plentiful rewards in crowns That from our treasury ye shall receive, There comes a hare-brained nation decked in pride, The spoil of whom will be a treble gain. And now my hope is full, my joy complete. At sea we are as puissant as the force Of Agamemnon in the haven of Troy; By land, with Xerxes we compare of strength, Whose soldiers drank up rivers in their thirst. Then Bayard-like, blind, overweening Ned, To reach at our imperial diadem Is either to be swallowed of the waves Or hacked a-pieces when thou com'st ashore.

Instead there was a rush on me of people having to have immediate action; some hand-hacked old kitchen stiff as thickened with grease as a miner or sandhog would be with clay, wanting me to go and see his boss, subito; or an Indian would bring his grievances written in a poem on a paper bag soaked with doughnut oil.[….] There were Greek and Negro chambermaids from all the hotels, porters, doormen, checkroom attendants, waitresses, specialists [….]. All kinds were coming. The humanity of the under-galleries of pipes, storage, and coal made an appearance, maintenance men, short-order grovelers; or a ducal Frenchman, in homburg, like a singer, calling himself “the beauty cook,” who wrote down on his card without taking off his gloves. And then old snowbirds and white hound-looking faces, guys with Wobbly cards from an earlier time, old Bohunk women with letters explaining what was wanted, and all varieties of assaulted kissers, infirmity, drunkenness, dazedness, innocence, limping, crawling, insanity, prejudice, and from downright leprosy the whole way again to the most vigorous straight- backed beauty. So if this collection of people has nothing in common with what would have brought up the back of a Xerxes’ army or a Constantine’s, new things have been formed; but what struck me in them was a feeling of antiquity and thick crust. But I expect happiness and gladness have always been the same, so how much variation should there be in their opposite? Dealing with them, signing them into the organization and explaining what to expect, wasn’t all generous kindness. In large part it was rough, when I wanted to get out of the way. The demand was that fierce, the idea having gotten around that it was a judgment hour, that they wanted to pull you from your clerical side of the desk to go with them.

He imagined himself at the lectern discussing the ancient Greeks to his American students: “The First Persian War, in which Miltiades defeats Darius at Marathon in 490 BC, leads to the Second Persian War, in which the Athenian navy commanded by Themistocles destroys the Persian navy under Xerxes at Salamis in 480 BC. Ten years of war gives the Greeks fifty years of peace, a golden age. The Athenians secure peace on the Hellespont through the Delian League, a mutual-security pact in which the other Greek city-states pay Athens a tribute to protect them against future Persian aggression. Sound familiar?” Lin Bao would then imagine himself looking out at his class, at their blank expressions, in which the past held no relevance, in which there was only the future and that future would always be American. Then, in his imagined class, Lin Bao would tell his students of their past but also of their future. He would explain how America’s golden age was born out of the First and Second World Wars, just as Greece had found its greatest era of prosperity in the aftermath of the two Persian Wars. Like the Athenians with the Delian League, Lin Bao would explain how the Americans consolidated power with mutual-security pacts such as NATO, in which they would make the largest contributions in exchange for military primacy over the western world—much as the Athenians had gained military primacy of the then-known world through the Delian League. Lin Bao would always wait for the question he knew was coming, in which one of his students would ask why it all ended. What external threat overwhelmed the Delian League? What invader accomplished what the Persian fleet could not at Salamis? And Lin Bao would tell his students that no invader had come, no foreign horde had sabotaged the golden age forged by Miltiades, Themistocles, and Greece’s other forefathers. “Then how?” they would ask. “If the Persians couldn’t do it, who did?” And so, he would say, “The end came—as it always does—from within.

The Greeks rebult Athens, building the incredible Acropolis and the blackened columns of the original Parthenon were set into the walls. The Greeks would never forgive or forget the Persian attack and the Greek tribes vowed revenge on Xerxes empire. It would be a twenty year old Alexander who took revenge.

Cyrus and Darius created Persia, Xerxes inherited it, his successors destroyed it.

Xerxes BY JACOB ABBOTT WITH ENGRAVINGS

The Mother of Xerxes. B.C. 522–484

Now I would fain know the man that ever went about to form such laws as should bind the hearts of men, or prepare such rewards as should reach the souls and consciences of men. Truly, if any mortal man—be he the greatest of the world’s monarchs —should make a law that his subjects should love him with all their hearts and souls, and not dare, upon peril of his greatest indignation, to bid a traitorous thought against his royal person welcome in their souls, but presently confess it to him, or else he would be avenged on him; he would deserve to be more laughed at for his pride and folly, than Xerxes for casting his fetters into the Hellespont to chain the surly waves with them into his obedience, or Caligula, that threatened the air, if it durst rain when he was at his pastimes, who yet, poor sneak, durst not himself so much as look into the air when it thundered. Certainly a bedlam would be fitter for such a madman than a king’s throne and palace, that should so far forfeit his reason, as to think that the thoughts and hearts of men were within his territories and jurisdiction. 

Over the front altar wall, we see the spandrel of Esther and Haman. This story is found in both Hebrew and Christian Bibles in the book of Esther. It is read in full every year by the Jews on Purim, the holiday that celebrates the salvation of the Jews in the ancient Persian Empire, the largest community of Jews in the Diaspora at that time. The emperor Achashverosh, whom some historians think might be Xerxes II, rules over his vast empire from his capital of Shushan (Susa in modern Iran) but cannot run his personal life very well. He holds enormous marathon banquets and orgies with his decadent pagan wife, Vashti. According to the unexpurgated Talmudic version, he has her killed after she refuses to dance nude for his guests. The Persian emperor’s vizier, or right-hand man—indeed, he practically runs the empire for him—is Haman, a power-hungry egomaniac who yearns to be as mighty as the emperor himself. He advises the newly widowed ruler to hold a sort of “beauty pageant” to find the most desirable woman in Persia to be his next wife. Esther, a beautiful young Jewess, wins the pageant and is crowned queen of Persia. However, she doesn’t tell anyone in the palace—especially the emperor or Haman—that she is a Jew. Later in the story, Haman decides to massacre all the Jews in the empire and dupes Achashverosh into validating the decree. At the last minute, Esther finds enough faith and courage to tell the king that she is a Jew, condemned to die because of Haman’s evil machinations. The emperor has Haman strung up high on the very tree upon which he wanted to hang the leaders of the Jews. In an ironic way, the wicked vizier gets his wish, being elevated high above the common crowd.

The gold, lamp, Xerxes, is probably the most important thing in your life.

The gold lamp, Xerxes, is probably the most important thing in your life.

Although many people provided logistical and technical support, the watch collection was basically put together by Vibha and Xerxes who worked extremely long hours and on countless weekends, recalls Anil. Foreign travel

We fucked up. It was all just to make you jealous. But you’ve always been ours. You’re my kitten,” Cobra whispered in my ear as I stared sadly at Xerxes. The last thing I heard before I fell asleep. “You will be punished for not choosing me, but I’ve never stopped owning you. How could I? You are my soul.

I want to show you my nest.” My heart skipped a beat. I whispered softly, “Do you lay eggs?” Had I missed the signs all along? Was Xerxes part bird, part kitten?

For by what manner of right did Xerxes march against Greece, or his father against Scythia? Or take the countless other cases of the sort that one might mention. Why, surely these men follow nature—the nature of right—in acting thus; yes, on my soul, and follow the law of nature[nomos phuseos]—though not that, I dare say, which is made by us; we mold the best and strongest amongst us, taking them from their infancy like young lions, and utterly enthrall them by our spells and witchcraft, telling them the while that they must have but their equal share, and that this is what is fair and just. But, I fancy, when some man [aner] arises with enough nature [hikanen phusin], he shakes off all that we have taught him, bursts his bonds, and breaks free; he tramples underfoot our codes and juggleries, our charms and “laws,” which are all against nature; our slave rises in revolt and shows himself [epanastas anephane] our master, and there shines [exelampse] out the full light of the right by nature  [tes phuseos dikaion].

Xerxes tinha razão. Se tentarmos prever tudo, arriscamo-nos a não fazer nada. Mas também a tinha Artabano. Se não nos prepararmos para tudo o que pode acontecer, garantimos que alguma parte disso acontecerá.

Titan was an acronym for Tata Industries and Tamil Nadu: “T” and “I” for Tata Industries and “TAN” for Tamil Nadu. And so, finally and adventitiously, this long-gestated venture came to see the light of day,’ elaborated Xerxes.

Xerxes wanted to know why the three hundred Spartans had fought so hard. Why had they sacrificed everything for this King Leonidas? What was it about the king that made him such a great leader? And the Spartan replied. “A king does not abide within his tent while his men bleed and die upon the field. A king does not dine while his men go hungry, nor sleep when they stand at watch upon the wall. A king does not command his men’s loyalty through fear nor purchase it with gold; he earns their love by the sweat of his own back and the pains he endures for their sake. That which comprises the harshest burden, a king lifts first and sets down last. A king does not require service of those he leads but provides it to them…

The empire ruled by Darius and his son Xerxes commanded a greater proportion of the world’s population

this time, even the ephors agreed that Sparta could not sit idly by and watch Xerxes reduce Greece to ruins.

Xerxes sent a Persian to the Greeks, but he was not a soldier.

The size of Xerxes’s army has been speculated as having between a hundred thousand and three million men

Xerxes must have been resolved to spare no man or ship in his quest to seize their land.

A Herulian fighting in a Greek army that calls itself Roman. Destined to marry an Arab princess and fight in a Persian war,” Xerxes mused. “It seems too ridiculous for even the most outlandish of campfire tales.

a supposed night attack by loyalist Greeks on Xerxes’s camp in the very middle of the Thermopylae campaign,

As for his son and successor Xerxes, he came to a very bad end,

paradox, though, was that the Greece Xerxes sought to conquer was not a rich, soft land of luxuries.

Leonidas, including decapitation on Xerxes’s express orders,

The Greeks had killed some twenty thousand on the Persian side, including two of Xerxes’s own half-brothers.

When Leonidas was killed at Thermopylae, Mardonius and Xerxes had him decapitated and his head stuck on a pole.

Eventually, sometime in July, Xerxes’s land forces reached the border between Macedonia and Thessaly

In 484 or so mainland Greeks south of Macedonia first got wind of Xerxes’s hostile intentions and preparations.

Xerxes was able to make his stately way past Mt Olympus and through Thessaly unimpeded

fleet of 271 warships against Xerxes’s 1,200-ship armada on the cape of Artemisium

You do not need to fear me, Esther." She simply nodded. "But you do." She smoothed her gown. "I will do whatever you ask of me, my lord." "You remind me of Vashti," he said, his tone low, husky. "And yet you are nothing like her." A deep sigh escaped him. "You draw out a need within me to protect you, though you are willing to do whatever I ask. You delight me, Esther.

He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed each finger. When he came to her mother's ring, he paused. "Tell me about this ring. It is not like the jewels I have provided my women." "It belonged to my mother. She died when I was a baby." The comment brought a look of approval to his eyes. He smiled. "Esther. You have made me feel things tonight that I have not felt in a very long time. A sense that I must protect you at all costs has arisen within me." He paused as if searching for the right words. "I have the strongest desire to take you to my bed, and yet I cannot. Not yet." She gave him a quizzical look, not sure whether to fear or hope. "I want you, Esther. But I also want you to be happy, and this is a life you did not choose. So I will give you a choice. You can either marry me at week's end and take Vashti's place as queen of Persia... or you may go back to your father and marry a man of your desire. You are young and I am old in comparison. And I am not likely to ever make such an offer to anyone again. This is completely out of character for me." He laughed lightly. "My advisors would think me mad." "You would offer me this and never take me to your bed?" The idea seemed incredulous since she had spent the past year preparing for that very thing. He nodded. "It is as though the gods will not allow me to touch you outside of marriage. I do not understand its, but you give me a feeling that we could truly be one of heart and soul.

For the first time since Xerxes had chosen her as queen, she felt as though she had fallen from a sense of favor too one of fear. She held power she had never known before. The king had listened to her over Haman, and no woman had ever held such sway over the king in all of the years these women had known him. Even Vashti could not have persuaded him against Xerxes' nobles. But Esther, by God's grace, had prevailed against Haman.

Cries of joy rose in the city as copies of the decree were fastened to the walls of the king's gate and at prominent places throughout the capital. Esther stood near, watching the frantic work. Awe that God had used her for this moment caused joy to rise up within her. When she heard the singing and laughter of the people outside, she wanted to weep and dance at the same time. Was this why You placed me here, Adonai? She had always wondered what possible reason there could have been for her to be so chosen. Surely other women were more beautiful than she. Surely other women had captured Xerxes' heart. With a Persian wife in Amestris who had given him sons, there had been no need for him to seek another wife. Even if he missed Vashti, it wasn't like he needed more. And yet here she stood, watching her father, second in command to the throne, write letters to every satrap, governor, high officer, and noble in all 127 provinces of her husband's kingdom. All because God saw fit to use her. Her. Hadassah. Her face heated with the humbling thought. How unworthy she felt, yet how blessed.

Now, my sweet girl, you are officially my wife and my queen." His whispered words spoken with intensity matched the passion of his green eyes. He was indeed handsome. As he took her hand to lift her to her feet, he turned them to face the crowd. "Behold, today Persia has a new queen! Queen Esther!

After a meal of yogurt soup, duck with pomegranate and walnut sauce over barley, stewed spinach, and baked apples, they could move to her receiving room and enjoy wine in the comfort of a more private setting.

I wish to better understand the king. I have never seen him or met him, and I do not wish to enter his chambers in four months without some knowledge of who he is." Hegai's jaw clenched, and he looked about despite the closed doors and the privacy they shared. "You know what every other virgin knows. I am sure your maids have told you enough." She studied him. "Is it wrong of me to ask to know more than the gossips say? I know nothing of his character, of his personality. What does he enjoy? Does he laugh easily? Is he a man of quick temper? What goals does he have for the kingdom?" Hegai smiled, his shoulders relaxing. "Ah, I see. You ask intelligent questions, but I fear I do not know the answers to any of them. These are things the wife of the king might one day ask, and things perhaps his advisors understand, but I daresay that King Xerxes is a private man. He does not share such things with his servants." "And yet, from what I understand, it was his servants who recognized his sorrow over Vashti and suggested this contest. Is that not correct?" Esther twisted the belt at her waist. "It is correct." Hegai leaned forward, elbows on his knees. "Esther, I like you. I think you hold much potential to please the king.

He grinned, feeling as young as he once did in Vashti's presence. Esther brought back the joys of youth, and he felt a sense of deep gratitude and satisfaction that he had listened to his servants when they suggested the contest that had brought her to him. He would not admit to her his deep need, nor how well she fulfilled that in him, but he felt it just the same.

I was allowed to visit the king's library, where a scribe read to me some of your exploits and the history written in the annals of kings. I hope this does not displease you." She silently hoped she had not revealed something that might get Hegai in trouble. The king smiled. "I am amazed that you had interest. I have no issue against you gaining such knowledge. No other wife has ever cared what I do." She searched his gaze. "I would think it very odd not to care what my husband enjoys or gives his time to do. Your words surprise me." He rose and took her hand in his. "And you surprise me, Esther.

As dawn broke the next morning, she looked on Xerxes with a love she had never felt before, love and gratitude to Adonai. She had not wanted this life. Would not have picked it, given the choice. But she could not deny that God had been with her all along and chosen her to live with this man for this season in history. As she gazed on her sleeping husband, then toward the sun peeking through the curtains surrounding them, she smiled. Her life was not her own. She belonged to her Creator. The plans He had for her were for good and not for evil. To give her and her people a future and a hope.

Xerxes gazed at Esther as she slept, marveling at the way her expression held such peace, her dark hair splayed over the pristine white cushion beneath her head. He had found not a single flaw in her and had quickly concluded that she surpassed even Vashti in beauty. He released a deep, contented sigh as he shifted on one elbow. Esther stirred and opened her eyes to meet his gaze. Her smile, slow and appreciative, caused a greater sense of protectiveness to rise within him. Did she love him? Could she love him? Without doubt he loved her. She had pleased him like no other. "You are awake," he said, surprised at the huskiness in his voice. What was this new feeling of exuberant joy? He was not one to grow flustered like this. Never like this. But Esther... he could not stop the need to touch his lips to hers. "I find you have tempted me beyond reason," he said when he felt confident that his voice would not again betray him. She wrapped both arms around his neck and pulled him closer. "I am glad," she whispered against his ear. "If I were not a temptation, you might not find me pleasing." She kissed him, this time not waiting for him to take the lead as she had the night before. He laughed when she pulled away, and they both caught their breath. "How bold my queen has become!

I was so caught up in the discussion that I almost didn't notice Apicata sneaking shy glances at young Casca. Celera had, however, and was watching with amusement. She winked at me when she saw I had also noticed their interest. As Casca mouthed a sweet nothing to Apicata, Celera seized the moment. "Apicata, I understand you have begun reading the Histories of Herodotus. Tell me, how do you like them?" She almost choked on her honey water, not expecting to be addressed. Casca averted his eyes when he saw me looking in his direction and both of them turned as red as the cushions upon which we were seated. Apicata recovered quickly. "I've almost finished them. Father was entertaining Annaeus Seneca and when he heard I had not yet read it, he sent me a copy." "Have you reached the part about how the Ethiopians bury their dead in crystal coffins?" Casca asked, turning his body to rest his chin on both hands and stare at her directly. "Oh, yes, I'm long past that! I'm reading about how Xerxes had the waters of Hellespont whipped for not obeying him." Her eyes sparkled. "Wait till you reach the Battle of Thermopylae. What a heroic story!" The exchange continued for a few minutes with additional commentary from the others, who were oblivious to the undercurrent between the youths.

The final reason we want to know the will of God is because we are cowardly. It’s true. Sometimes when we pray to know the will of God, we are praying a coward’s prayer: “Lord, tell me what to do so nothing bad will happen to me and I won’t have to face danger or the unknown.” We want to know everything is going to be fine for us or for those we love. But that’s not how God spoke to Esther. As a Jewish woman who won an unusual beauty contest to become Xerxe’s queen (see Esther 2:2-17), Esther would learn that God’ plans can include risk—and an opportunity to show courage. The king’s right-hand man, Haman, was the enemy of the Jews and devised a plot to kill all the Jewish people, and Xerxes, king of Persia, unwittingly signed this decree. When Mordecai, Esther’s older cousin and guardian, learned of this plot, he told Esther, knowing she was the only one in a position to save the Jewish people—her people. But she refused, telling him that if she visited King Xerxes without being summoned, she would, by Persian law, be killed—unless the king extended the golden scepter and spared her life. Entering the throne room on her own was very risky, which is why Esther sent people to Mordecai to say that she wouldn’t do it. The Scriptures give us Mordecai’s response to the words of Esther’s emissaries: Then Mordecai told them to reply to Esther, “Do not think to yourself that in the king’s palace you will escape any more than all the other Jews. For if you keep silent at this time, relief and deliverance will rise for the Jews from another place, but you and your father’s house will perish. And who knows whether you have not come to the kingdom for such a time as this?” (Esther 4:13-14) So what would you do at this point? Pray for some sign from heaven? Wait for God’s will to be revealed? Question why God would put you in such a predicament? Do nothing, figuring that anything involving suffering and possible death must not be His plan for your life? Look at what Esther did: Then Esther told them to reply to Mordecai, “Go, gather all the Jews to be found in Susa, and hold a fast on my behalf, and do not eat or drink for three days, night or day. I and my young women will also fast as you do. Then I will go to the king, though it is against the Law, and if I perish, I perish.” (vv. 15-16).

Moments later, as the specter exited through the window it had entered, Victor Xerxes Valenzuela once again found himself floating out at sea. Only this time the ocean was a viscous crimson, the sky above, a lackluster black.

I’m not sulking. But…but when I recall my actions at Yura’s house…. I feel wretched, pathetic, and so very ashamed!! Aaaaahh! Sharon…Reim…and in the end even Gilbert-kun chastised me and got angry with me…How do I say it? I’m…so utterly graceless.” “Haah….my, I am amazed. You have only come to realize that now? If you had not noticed, allow me to lay it out for you. You are not “an all-powerful man who can do everything himself…but merely a middle-aged man coming on in years who thinks he can do everything himself! You always look down on people with an overbearing attitude. You act as if you know it all, yet keep it to yourself! You pretend to be an adult, but you are a perfectionist who hates to lose, and trivial things make you nervous. You are a difficult person who likes to take care of people but hates being taken care of himself! Well!? What part of that sounds like a graceful adult to you!?” “Fu fu fu fu fu…fu fu fu fu fu fu…” “Break?” “Aah ha ha ha haha! Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-haaa!!” “B…br?” “Aww, gee. I’m hopeless. I’m well and truly…hopeless.” “?! Xerxes niisan…!?” “Gilbert germs have infected me.” “Huh? Gilbert ge…?” “So please….Sharon. May I keep being…a good-for-nothing a while longer?

Finally, I understood. He hadn't rejected me. He had done what he could to hold on to me. And the day I had approached him with my request, he had protected me publicly, though no doubt it had cost him something with Otanes. I put a gentle hand on his shoulder. "That was a clever ploy, my lord. Far cleverer than anything I could have thought of." He whirled around so quickly the bed dipped, and I tumbled against him. He grabbed me and held on tight, his fingers not quite steady. He had expected me to criticize him. To point out the shortcoming of his plan. To complain of his insufficient power. Instead, I gave him what he needed most. I made him feel safe in his own skin, because I always saw the best in him. I understood that the forces against him wielded too much weight and power, and I saw the strength it required for him to survive them. Everyone called his father Great. He had always known he could never be a match to Darius. But what few had eyes to see was the strength it took for him to place one foot before the other and simply endure. I saw. He knew I looked up to him. Not as a king, but as a man. And that day, he learned that I knew how to forgive him also. I suppose that was why he loved me.

Thanks to my year of royal preparation and mind-numbing beauty treatments, I was twenty by the time Xerxes laid eyes on me. Practically ancient for a virgin. That might have been part of the attraction. I was not a giggling child. I had a woman's conversation and interests. Nor was I an ambitious princess, sharpening my avaricious talons on the sword of his power. He could see I did not care. The less I cared, the more beautiful he found me. Men are strange creatures.

His [Xerxes'] uncle Artabanus perceived this, he who in the beginning had spoken his mind freely and advised Xerxes not to march against Hellas. Marking how Xerxes wept, he questioned him and said, “O king, what a distance there is between what you are doing now and a little while ago! After declaring yourself blessed you weep.” Xerxes said, “I was moved to compassion when I considered the shortness of all human life, since of all this multitude of men not one will be alive a hundred years from now.” Artabanus answered, “In one life we have deeper sorrows to bear than that. Short as our lives are, there is no human being either here or elsewhere so fortunate that it will not occur to him, often and not just once, to wish himself dead rather than alive. Misfortunes fall upon us and sicknesses trouble us, so that they make life, though short, seem long. Life is so miserable a thing that death has become the most desirable refuge for humans; the god is found to be envious in this, giving us only a taste of the sweetness of living.” (Book 7 Chapter 46)

Artabanus answered and said, “O king, may the vision that appeared in my dream bring such an end as we both desire! But I am even now full of fear and beside myself for many reasons, especially when I see that the two greatest things in the world are your greatest enemies.” Xerxes made this response: “Are you possessed? What are these two things that you say are my greatest enemies? Is there some fault with the numbers of my land army? Does it seem that the Greek army will be many times greater than ours? Or do you think that our navy will fall short of theirs? Or that the fault is in both? If our power seems to you to lack anything in this regard, it would be best to muster another army as quickly as possible.” Artabanus answered and said, “O king, there is no fault that any man of sound judgment could find either with this army or with the number of your ships; and if you gather more, those two things I speak of become even much more your enemies. These two are the land and the sea. The sea has nowhere any harbor, as I conjecture, that will be able to receive this navy and save your ships if a storm arise. Yet there has to be not just one such harbor, but many of them all along the land you are sailing by. Since there are no harbors able to receive you, understand that men are the subjects and not the rulers of their accidents. I have spoken of one of the two, and now I will tell you of the other. The land is your enemy in this way: if nothing is going to stand in your way and hinder you, the land becomes more your enemy the further you advance, constantly unaware of what lies beyond; no man is ever satisfied with success. So I say that if no one opposes you, the increase of your territory and the time passed in getting it will breed famine. The best man is one who is timid while making plans because he takes into account all that may happen to him, but is bold in action.” (Book 7 Chapter 47.2-49)

Yet you know Solon’s saying, ‘Call no man fortunate till he is dead.

For we have not an innumerable multitude of books among us, disagreeing from and contradicting one another, [as the Greeks have,] but only twenty-two books, 8 which contain the records of all the past times; which are justly believed to be divine; and of them five belong to Moses, which contain his laws and the traditions of the origin of mankind till his death. This interval of time was little short of three thousand years; but as to the time from the death of Moses till the reign of Artaxerxes king of Persia, who reigned after Xerxes, the prophets, who were after Moses, wrote down what was done in their times in thirteen books. The remaining four books contain hymns to God, and precepts for the conduct of human life. It is true, our history hath been written since Artaxerxes very particularly, but hath not been esteemed of the like authority with the former by our forefathers, because there hath not been an exact succession of prophets since that time; and how firmly we have given credit to these books of our own nation is evident by what we do; for during so many ages as have already passed, no one has been so bold as either to add any thing to them, to take any thing from them, or to make any change in them; but it is become natural to all Jews immediately, and from their very birth, to esteem these books to contain Divine doctrines, and to persist in them, and, if occasion be willingly to die for them.