se to resist it?

"Yield, my Lord, yield," called Glaucon, in Persian, "the battle is
against you, and no fault of yours. Save the lives of your men."

Ariamenes gave a toss of his princely head, and with his left hand plucked
the javelin from his shoulder.

"A prince of the Aryans knows how to die, but not how to yield," he cast
back, and before the Athenians guessed his intent he sprang upon the
bulwark. There in the sight of his king he stood and bowed his head and
with his left arm made the sign of adoration.

"Seize him!" shouted Ameinias, divining his intent, but too late. The
Persian leaped into the water. In his heavy mail he sank like lead. The
wave closed over him, as he passed forever from the sight of man.

There was stillness on the Tyrian for a moment. A groan of helpless horror
was rising from the Barbarians on the shore. Then the Phoenicians fell upon
their knees, crying in their harsh tongue, "Quarter! Quarter!" and
embracing and kissing the feet of the victors. Thanks to the moment of
quietness given them, the Athenians' blood had cooled a little; they
gathered up the weapons cast upon the deck; there was no massacre.

Themistocles mounted the poop of the captured flag-ship, and Glaucon with
him. The wind was wafting them again into the centre of the channel. For
the first time for many moments they were able to look about them, to ask,
"How goes the battle?" Not the petty duel they had fought, but the great
battle of battles which was the life-struggle of Hellas. And behold, as
they gazed they pressed their hands upon their eyes and looked and looked
again, for the thing they saw seemed overgood for truth. Where the great
Barbarian line had been pushing up the strait, were only bands of
scattered ships, and most of these turning their beaks from Salamis. The
waves were strewn with wrecks, and nigh every one a Persian. And right,
left, and centre the triumphant Hellenes were pressing home, ramming,
grappling, capturing. Even whilst the fight raged, pinnaces were thrusting
out from Salamis--Aristeides's deed, they later heard--crowded with martial
graybeards who could not look idly on while their sons fought on the
ships, and who speedily landed on Psyttaleia to massacre the luckless
Persians there stationed. The cheers of the Barbarians were ended now;
from the shores came only a beastlike howling which drowned the paeans of
the victors. As the _Nausicaae's_ people looked, they could see the once