The Athenaid: a poem, by the author of Leonidas. [pt.1]

Table of contents

- [halftitle]

- [frontispiece]

- [titlepage]

- ADVERTISEMENT.

- ERRATA.

- THE ATHENAID. BOOK the FIRST.

- THE ATHENAID. BOOK the SECOND.

- THE ATHENAID. BOOK the THIRD.

- THE ATHENAID. BOOK the FOURTH.

- THE ATHENAID. BOOK the FIFTH.

- THE ATHENAID. BOOK the SIXTH.

- THE ATHENAID. BOOK the SEVENTH.

- THE ATHENAID. BOOK the EIGHTH.

- THE ATHENAID. BOOK the NINTH.

- THE ATHENAID. BOOK the TENTH.

THE ATHENAID, A POEM.

VOL. I.

THE •THENAID, A POEM,

BY THE AUTHOR OF LEONIDAS.

〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉

〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉

AESCHYL. PERSAE.

VOL. I.

LONDON: PRINTED FOR T. CADELL, IN THE STRAND. MDCCLXXXVII.

ADVERTISEMENT.

THE ATHENAID, written by the late Richard Glover, Esq was left by him, among other literary works, to Miss Glover (now Mrs. Halsey) who presents it to the Public exactly copied from her Father's Manuscript, except what regards the punctuation, and introduction of now and then a connective word, inserted by the good offices of a Friend.—The Poem was not finished early enough before Mr. Glover's decease for him to revise it, as he intended; yet, incorrect as it may be for want of such revisal, the Editor flatters herself that it will be favorably received, as the genuine work of an Author, who was ever distinguished by public approba •ion.—An earnest desire of doing honor to the memory of a deceased Parent, and also of gratifying the literary world with the Sequel to LEONIDAS, which the present Poem contains, and which together includes the most brilliant period of the Grecian History, are the motives for her Publication.

ERRATA.

- B. I. l. 390, for Alpheus, read Alphēus.

- B. I. l. 520, for Dioneces, read Dieneces.

- B. III. l. 324, for ut, read But.

- B. IV. l. 340, for servants, read servant's.

- B. VI. l. 80, after blood place a full stop.

- B. X. l. 72, for Erotria, read Eretria.

- B. X. l. 337, for waite, read waits.

THE ATHENAID.
BOOK the FIRST.

THE Persians vanquish'd, Greece from bondage sav'd,

The death of great Leonidas aveng'd

By Attic virtue—celebrate, O Muse!

A burning ray the summer solstice cast,

Th' Olympiad was proclaim'd; when Xerxes pour'd

His millions through Thermopylae, new-stain'd

With blood. From Athens Aeschylus divine

In genius, arts, and valour, musing deep

On his endanger'd country's future doom,

Repairs, invited by an evening still,

To clear Ilissus, Attic stream renown'd.

Beneath an oak, in solitary state

Apart, itself a wood, the hero's limbs

On tufted moss repose. He grasps the lyre;

Unfolded scrolls voluminous he spreads

Along the ground: high lays repeating thence,

Leonidas the Spartan he extols,

And sweeps th' accordant strings. To closing day

He bade farewel, and hail'd th' ascending stars

In music long continued; till the stream

With drowsy murmur won his eye to sleep,

But left his fancy waking. In a dream

The god of day, with full meridian blaze,

Seem'd to assume his function o'er the skies;

When, lo! the earth divided: through the cleft

A gush of radiance dimm'd the noon-tide sun.

In structure all of diamond, self pois'd,

Amid redundant light a chariot hung

Triumphal. Twelve transparent horses breath'd

Beams from their nostrils, dancing beams of day

Shook from their manes. In lineaments of man,

Chang'd to immortal, there the mighty soul

Of Sparta's king apparent shone. His wounds

Shot forth a splendour like the clust'ring stars,

Which on Orion's chest and limbs proclaim

Him first of constellations. Round in cars

Of triumph too arrang'd, the stately forms

Of those whom virtue led to share his doom,

And consecrate Thermopylae to fame.

Pines tipp'd with lightning seem'd their spears; their shields

Broad like Minerva's aegis: from their helms

An empyreal brightness stream'd abroad:

Ineffable felicity their eyes,

Their fronts the majesty of gods display'd.

Erect the glorious shape began to speak

In accents louder than a bursting cloud—

Pentelicus, Hymettus seem'd to shake

Through all their quarries, and Ilissus beat

His shudd'ring banks in tumult—Thou, whose muse

Commands th' immortalizing trump of fame,

Go to the sage Hellanodics, the just

Elēan judges of Olympian palms;

There in thy own celestial strains rehearse,

Before that concourse wide, our deeds and fate.

Let our example general Greece inspire

To face her danger; let the Spartan shield

Protect th' Athenians, else I died in vain.

The brilliant vision, now dispersing, leaves

The wond'ring bard. He, starting, in his ken

Discerns no other than the real scene

Of shadows brown from close embow'ring wood,

Than distant mountains, and the spangled face

Of heav'n, reflected from the silver stream.

But pensive, brooding o'er his country's fate,

His step he turns. Themistocles, who rul'd

Athenian councils, instant he accosts

With large recital of his awful dream.

Obey the mandate, cries the chief: alarm

Th' Olympian concourse: from the Delphian port

Of Cirrha sail for Elis: on thy way

Consult Apollo in the state's behalf,

Which to that function nominates thy worth:

Of Xerxes' march intelligence obtain.

This said, they parted. Aeschylus by dawn

Commenc'd his progress, join'd by numbers arm'd,

Like him to Pisa's barrier destin'd all,

Electing him their chief. Five times the sun

Renew'd his orbit, five successive nights

The moon enlarg'd her crescent, ere they reach'd

Phoebean Delphi, seated on a rock

Abrupt, sublime. Yet thence the curious eye

Must upward look to meet the summits blue

Of double-topp'd Parnassus, where the god

Oracular is worshipp'd. Here they trac'd

Barbarian violence profane. Consum'd

Were hamlets, temples levell'd to the dust,

The statues broken, each religious bow'r

A burning mass of embers. Wrapt in smoke,

With cinders strewn, so glows the region round

Portentous Aetna, or Vesuvius dire,

Death's flaming cauldrons; when their stony ribs

And min'ral bowels, liquefied by fire,

O'erwhelm the fields, by nature left unbless'd,

Alone unbless'd of all Sicania's bound,

Or lovely-fac'd Hesperia. Dubious here

Th' Athenians halt, while fierce the sultry noon

Inflames the sky. From Delphi's open gates,

To Attic eyes no stranger, Timon comes,

Sage priest of Phoebus, magistrate unsoil'd,

The public host of Athens, to the plain

Descending swift with followers who bear

His buckler, spear, and armour. On his head

Were ashes sprinkled: rent, his garb presag'd

Some black disaster. What malignant dart

Of fortune wounds thee? Aeschylus aloud,

While by the hand Cecropia's host he press'd.

To him the Delphian: From deserted roofs,

Depopulated streets, I come to hail

Thee, bound by hospitable ties my friend,

Thee, dear to Phoebus, by Minerva grac'd,

Thy country's goddess. Me thou often saw'st

A parent bless'd in Amarantha's bloom,

Yet ripe in virtue. Her, presenting pray'r

With votive flow'rs before Minerva's shrine,

This very hour Barbarians have enthrall'd,

Borne in my sight precipitate away.

O wife lamented, gather'd in thy prime

By ruthless Pluto! in Elysian groves

How shall I meet thee, and the tidings bear

Of thy lost child, to servitude a prey,

To violation doom'd? Yet more: the rage

Of these invaders, who have spoil'd our fields,

Defac'd our temples, driv'n to shelt'ring caves,

To pathless cliffs, our populace dismay'd,

Is now ascending to insult the fane,

With sacrilegious violence to seize

Th' accumulated off'rings by the great

And good from age to age devoted there.

He scarce had finish'd, when the earth beneath

Rock'd from her center in convulsive throes;

From pole to pole th' ethereal concave groan'd:

Night from her cavern with gigantic steps

Bestrode the region, lifting high as heav'n

Her broad, infernal palm, whose umbrage hides

The throne of light; while, glancing through the rifts

Of her black mande, overlaid with clouds,

Blue vapours trail'd their fires. The double head

Of tall Parnassus reeling, from the crag

Unloos'd two fragments; mountainous in bulk,

They roll to Delphi with a crashing sound,

Like thunder nigh whose burst of ruin strikes

The shatter'd ear with horror. Thus the bard

Unmov'd, while round him ev'ry face is pale:

Not on our heads these menaces are thrown

By ireful nature, and portentous heav'n;

Th' unrighteous now, th' oppressor of mankind,

The sacrilegious, in this awful hour

Alone should feel dismay. My Delphian host,

Who knows but thund'ring Jove's prophetic son

Now vindicates his altar; in his name

Now calls the turbid elements to war?

What shrieks of terror fill thy native streets!

The hills with barb'rous dissonance of cries,

The caverns howl. Athenians, be prepar'd,

Best so when arm'd: then, Timon, case thy limbs;

The season teems with prodigy. Secure

In conscious virtue, let us calmly watch

The mighty birth. By heav'n! through yonder gate

The foes are driven; confusion, wild despair,

With panic dread pursue them: friends, embrace

Th' auspicious moment; lift your pious blades,

Ye chosen men, auxiliars to a god!

He spake, advancing with his holy friend

To battle. Shiv'ring at their own misdeed,

At heav'n-inflicted punishment, the foes

Unnerv'd, distracted, unresisting, deem'd

The warriors two celestials from above,

Cas'd in Vulcanian panoply, to wage

The war of gods. The whole Athenian train

In equal fervour with Barbarian blood

Distain their weapons. So from forests drear,

When barren winter binds the foodful earth,

Enrag'd by famine, trooping wolves invade

A helpless village; unwithstood, they range

With greedy fangs, and dye with human gore

The snow-envelop'd ways. The Delphian race,

By fear so lately to the neighb'ring hills

And caves restrain'd, forsake their shelt'ring holds;

In clusters rushing on the foes dismay'd,

Accomplish their defeat. Th' Athenian chief

Triumphant, red with massacre, admits

A Persian youth to mercy, who his shield

And sword surrenders. Persian, dost thou hope

Thy flow'ring bloom shall ripen to enjoy

A length of days? (severe his victor spake)

Then to my questions utter words sincere.

Reveal thy name, thy father's. Where encamps

The host of Xerxes? Whither doth he point

His inroad next? To violate this fane

By his appointment was thy youth compell'd?

Last, if thou know'st, what impious savage tore

The Delphian maiden from Minerva's shrine?

The Persian answers with a crimson'd cheek,

With eyes in tears—Ah! little now avails

Th' illustrious current of Argestes' blood

To me a captive, less the name I bear

Of Artamanes. By the king's decree

That we were sent, that I unwilling came,

Is truth sincere. Our leader slain, the heaps

Of these disfigur'd carcases have made

Their last atonement to th' insulted god.

The king in rich Orchomenus I left;

Who through Boeotia meditates to march

Against th' Athenians. He, alas! who seiz'd

The beauteous virgin at Minerva's shrine,

He is my brother, eldest of the race,

Far hence secure; while captive here I mourn

His heinous outrage, and my own disgrace.

Addressing Timon, here Cecropia's bard:

Preserve this youth a hostage for thy child:

He seems deserving; thee I know humane.

Now to Apollo's temple be my guide.

Still dost thou droop?—O Aeschylus, exclaims

Desponding Timon, from the woes begun

This day in Delphi, I to Athens trace

A series black with evil. Lo! the wise,

The righteous Aristides from your walls

Through jealousy of merit is expell'd;

Themistocles the cause. Himself, though great,

Yet envious, and ambitious that his light

May blaze unrivall'd, of th' Athenian state

Extinguishes the brightest. Sparta shews,

At this dread crisis, how the hearts of men

By selfish eares and falsehood are deprav'd.

She to the land of Pelops still confines

Her efforts, on the neighb'ring isthmus rears

A partial bulwark, leaving half the Greeks,

Your noble seat, this oracle, expos'd

To devastation: little she regards

Our god profan'd, our progeny enslav'd;

Her chief Pausanias, arrogant and stern,

O'erlooks my suff'rings. Feeling what I fear

For thee and others, I must droop, my friend.

To him the bard, in these sententious strains:

Not endless sunshine is the lot of man,

Nor ever blooming seasons. Night succeeds

The day, as day the night: rude winter frowns,

Fair summer smiles. Thus variable the mind,

Not less than human fortune, feels the strife

Of truth and error, which alternate reign

The arbiters of nature. Dark the deed,

A deed of gloomy night, when envy forc'd

The best Athenian from his natal roof:

But light will soon return. Though Sparta break

Her promise pledg'd; though false Boeotia prop

A foreign throne; still Athens will sustain

Herself and Greece, will retribution pay

To Aristides, and her morn dispel

The mist of error with a glorious blaze.

No more—my duty calls me to the fane.

They move, and passing by Minerva's grove,

Two monuments of terror see. There stopp'd

The massy fragments, from Parnassus rent:

An act of nature, by some latent cause

Disturb'd. Tremendous o'er Barbarian ranks

The ruins down the sacred way had roll'd,

Leaving its surface horrible to sight;

Such as might startle war's remorseless god,

And shake his heart of adamant. Not long

This blood-congealing spectacle detains

The troop, which swiftly to the Pythian dome

Press their ascending steps. The martial bard

First, as enjoin'd by holy form, to scenes

Far diff'rent, sweet Castalia's fount and grove,

Resorts, with pure ablution to redeem

From dust and slaughter his polluted limbs,

To holy eyes obscene. Beside the fane,

Within a flow'ring bosom of the hill,

Through veins of rock beneath embow'ring shade,

The rills divine replenish, as they flow,

A cavity of marble. O'er the brim,

In slender sheets of liquid crystal, down

They fall harmonious. Plistus takes below

To his smooth bed their tribute. Plunging there

In deep obscurity of wood, whose roof

With ridgy verdure meets the low-bent eye

From that stupendous cliff, his current winds

Through shade awhile; thence issuing large in view,

Refreshes grateful meads, by mountains edg'd,

Which terminate on Cirrha, Delphian port.

Beyond her walls blue Neptune spreads his face

Far as Achaia's wide expanse of coast,

With tow'rs and cities crown'd. The marble fount

On either side is skirted thick by groves

Of ancient laurel with luxuriant arms,

In glossy green attir'd. There Phoebus, pride

Of Parian quarries, stands a form divine,

In act to draw an arrow from the case

Loose hanging o'er his shoulder; and in look

Serene, but stern: his worshippers to guard,

As if the Pythian serpent were in sight,

He meditates the combat. Here disarm'd,

His limbs from all th' impurities of Mars

Th' Athenian purges. Menial care supplies

A garment silver-white: an olive branch

His suppliant hand sustains. He seeks the fane;

He mounts the steps magnificent: the gates

On sounding hinges turn their brazen valves.

Across an area vast, with solemn shade

Of massy columns border'd, slow he moves

His manly frame. Procumbent at the mouth

Of that abyss oracular, whose fume

Breathes wild sensation through the Pythian maid,

With hands outstretch'd, he offers up this pray'r:

O vanquisher of Python! Seed of Jove,

Whose eleutherian might the tyrant dreads!

Bright pow'r of day, dispenser of that fire

Which kindles genius in the human breast!

God of that light diffusing through the soul

The rays of truth and knowledge! Friend to man,

His monitor prophetic! O admit

Athenians, anxious for their country's weal,

In this her day of peril to consult

Thy wisdom, thy protection to implore!

Her tripod high the prophetess ascends:

Enthusiastic motion strains her form,

In flashes rolls her eyeballs, and bespreads

Her agitated front with floating hair.

Her weight a laurel, planted nigh, upholds,

Which she embraces; her convulsive grasp

Shakes to the root the groaning trunk, the boughs,

The clatt'ring foliage. Forth she bursts in foam.

Fly, wretched men, to earth's extremest bound!

I see, I see th' Acropolis in flames,

Your temples crumble, and your turrets nod:

I see the blood run sable through your streets.

All unabash'd, the hero firm replies:

Yet further speak. Though citadel and fanes

Be doom'd to ashes, must the nation fall?

If so, instruct thy suppliants how their fall

May prove most glorious in the sight of gods

And men.—The Pythian answers with a look

Of pity, soft'ning her tempestuous rage:

Ah! still my tongue like adamant is hard.

Minerva's tow'rs must perish: Jove severe

So wills; yet granting, at his daughter's suit,

Her people refuge under walls of wood.

But shun the myriads of terrific horse,

Which on your fields an eastern Mars will range.

She ceas'd; Th' Athenian notes her answer down:

To one, the most entrusted of his train,

He gives the tablet. Back to Athens fly,

He said; the son of Neocles alone,

By his unbounded faculties, can pierce

The hidden sense of these mysterious strains;

All which of Xerxes thou hast heard, report:

I must depart to Elis.—Must thou go?

Dejected Timon then: what safety here

For me remains? Barbarians will return;

My countrymen, dishearten'd as before,

Resort to caverns. Though the god hath sav'd

His shrine, the rest of Phocis lies a prey,

Boeotia, Locris, Doris, to the foe.

Yet what have I, O Aeschylus! to dread?

I have no other child for savage force

To violate: In Amarantha lost,

My joy, my hope are vanish'd; and the hand,

Which lays me breathless, will befriend me best.

Th' Athenian here: Unmanly is despair,

A noxious weed, whose growth, my Delphian host,

Let courage wither. Phoebus hath denounc'd

The waste of Athens. Hopeful I forebode,

That prouder walls and battlements will lift

Their heads for ages; and that eye of Greece

With inextinguishable ray surpass

Its former lustre. Quit this dang'rous place,

With us embarking: borrow help from time,

Safe counsellor to wisdom. You, the race

Of holy Delphi, should the foe return,

Again dispersing to your caves, rely

On your protecting god. Not vers'd alone

In holy rites, in arms and council tried,

A chief like Timon fame forbids to hide

His dignity in caverns.—Timon here:

Thou shalt conduct me, thou my friendly star!

Meantime selected messengers I send

The needful barks at Cirrha to prepare.

Now from the temple under Timon's roof

Admitted, vig'rous with refection due

Of rest and food, to Cirrha they proceed

With Artamanes. Ready are the barks,

The gale propitious, calm the wat'ry plain:

When, like the feather'd sojourners, who leave

Their late abode on winter's bleak approach,

To wing their flight for climates more benign,

These with extended canvas quit the port,

And, doubling round Achaia, cut the main

To sacred Pisa. On their way the harp

Of Aeschylus, preluding to the strain

Which on his banks Alpheus was to hear,

Relieves the sailor toiling at his oar,

Enchants the wind retentive of the sounds

Which harmonize his breath. If round the keel

Of sweet Arion dolphins ever play'd,

Or blithsome Nereids to the pleasing mood

Of Orpheus danc'd, while Argo plough'd the deep;

They now had felt controulment as in bonds,

Not on their pliant, azure-glossy fins

Disporting light, but rigid with amaze

At this majestic muse. Yet sounding verse,

In solemn cadence to the deep-ton'd lyre,

Which could the boist'rous mariner subdue,

The ear of Timon, languid by despair,

Rejects, attentive to his grief alone,

Which sighs within. Society is pain,

Ev'n with his friend. A solitary couch

He seeks; recumbent, not reposing, there

Consumes the hours in pertinacious woe,

Which sheds no tear. If wearied nature sinks,

His sleep is troubled; visions of the night

Appal his spirit; starting, he forsakes

A thorny pillow; rushes on the deck

With lamentations to the midnight moon.

Alarm'd, th' Athenian chief approaching seiz'd

On Timon's hand; with earnest looks enquir'd

Why thus complaining he disturbs the calm,

From his own pillow chacing due repose?

Ah! I have seen my daughter, he replies,

Have seen her twice!—Where seen her? all distress'd

Th' Athenian questions.—On a rock she stood,

A naked rock, the parent wild exclaims;

Unloos'd her zone, dishevell'd was her hair;

The ravisher was nigh. On sight of me,

Who no assistance from the shore could reach,

O father, father! I am sham'd, deflower'd,

But here will end my sorrows and disgrace;

She said, and plung'd precipitate. I saw

Her body swallow'd by the greedy surge,

Unwept, depriv'd of sepulture, to float.

Illusion all! the bard consoling spake;

The phantom offspring of distemper'd sleep.

A second time, the frantic fire pursues,

Did Amarantha meet my aking sight;

Then, like an eastern concubine attir'd,

Her head was blazon'd with Barbaric gems;

With golden gloss her wanton garment wav'd:

With her despoiler hand in hand she walk'd,

Disclaim'd her father, and her father's gods.

Oh then I wish'd her on the waves again,

To parch in winds, or sate some vulture's beak!

The youthful captive Artamanes, rous'd,

Stands nigh in gen'rous tears. To him the bard:

Ingenuous Persian, check thy tears, and lend

Thy hand benign: committed to his couch

Him watch and fuccour.—Hourly was perform'd

The pious office; noblest Delphians round

Assist in tears; while now the moonlight twice

Danc'd on the billows. On the second morn

They land in Elis. Fame had gone before,

Promulgating the valour which aveng'd

The Delphian god, prophetic light to man,

Ev'n more than Jove in Ammon's Libyan shrine

Or Dodonaean groves. A shining car

Waits on the shore; a herald there salutes

The warrior bard. Divine Athenian, hail!

Hail, righteous captain of a righteous band!

These olive crowns to thee and them I bear;

So have the sage Hellanodics ordain'd,

Who to their just tribunal through my voice

Invite thy presence. Aeschylus receives

The victor's chaplet, and ascends the car.

Along Alphēus to th' Olympian lists

He passes through spectators all array'd

In garlands too, and num'rous like the flow'rs

Embellishing the river's fragrant sides,

Or like the pebbles in his murm'ring bed.

Th' approach of Aeschylus is known. Between

Two rows of victors in their olive crowns

He o'er the sanded area greets the thrones,

Where, grac'd with scepters magisterial, sat

Th' Elēan judges. Standing on the car,

To them, uprising from their seats, he spake:

If to have fought for Delphi and her god

Deserve this chaplet, what superior praise

To him is due, who voluntary died

For Lacedaemon? But he claims no more

Than emulation from the sons of Greece,

Like him to save their countries and their laws.

He hath his honours in the bless'd abodes;

From him I come deputed; hear in me

Leonidas. A vision, as of gods,

To me, late slumb'ring on Ilissus, rose;

In semblance rose Leonidas, begirt

With all the virtuous partners in his fate.

Before me earth divided; through the cleft

A gushing radiance dimm'd the eye of noon.

In structure all of diamond, self-pois'd,

Amid redundant light, a chariot hung

Triumphal. Twelve transparent horses breath'd

Beams from their nostrils, dancing beams of day

Shook from their manes. In lineaments of man,

Chang'd to immortal, with a shape enlarg'd,

A stature lengthen'd, there the mighty soul

Of Sparta's king apparent shone. His wounds

Shot forth a starlike splendour. Round in cars

Triumphal too arrang'd, the stately forms

Of those whom virtue led to share his doom,

And consecrate Thermopylae to fame.

To me these words the glorious shape address'd:

Go to the sage Hellanodics, the just

Elēan judges of Olympian palms:

In that wide concourse celebrate my death.

Let my example gen'ral Greece inspire

To face her danger; let the Spartan shield

Protect th' Athenians, else I died in vain.

Attention mute th' Hellanodics command:

The thick'ning crowd is hush'd. The bard proceeds,

While inspiration swells his copious breast,

Flames in his eye, and thunders from his voice.

Parnassian Phoebus he invok'd, the pow'r

Of prophecy and song. His aid is due

In celebration of the man who heard

The oracle from Delphi, and obey'd.

"A king deriv'd from Hercules must die

"For Lacedaemon." Who obedient heard?

Leonidas: he left his household gods,

His wife belov'd, his offspring; at the gate

Of Greece, Thermopylae, he fought, he fell:

With him what heroes? Alpheus, Maron bled,

There Agis, there Dioneces, the seer,

Megistias, bold Diomedon, the youth

Of Dithyrambus, Thespia's hoary chief,

Demophilus; for you they all expir'd:

Rise, Greeks, revenge their fall! in that revenge

Your laws, your manners, and religion save.

You who aspire to these Olympic wreaths,

The brightest guerdon to a Grecian brow,

Yet will you linger, till Barbaric arms

Annihilate th' Olympiad? Not to die

Leonidas invites; no, Greeks, to live!

Surmounting foes enervate by the dread

His death impress'd, to fill your cup of life

With virtuous glory, to enjoy your hopes

In peace, in years and merit then mature

Be his companions in eternal bliss.

Such was the substance; but in swelling phrase

At large, full tide of poesy and zeal,

Flow'd his high-ton'd, enthusiastic song.

End of the First Book.

THE ATHENAID.
BOOK the SECOND.

TH' inspiring measures close. To arms, to arms,

Innumerable mouths concurrent sound;

To arms, to arms, reply the pillar'd isles

Of Jove's Olympian temple: down his banks

To distant Neptune glad Alphēus wafts

The glorious clamour. Through th' assembly vast

Meantime an elevated form is seen,

With gracious gesture, animating look,

Approaching: now before th' Elean thrones

Of solemn judgment he majestic stands,

Known for the man by Themis plac'd in rank

Above his fellow mortals; archon once

Of Athens, now an exile: him the chief

Among the grave Hellanodics address'd:

Hail, Aristides! On th' Olympian games

Thy presence throws new dignity: what crown

Can they provide to equal thy desert?

While others court the prize of strength and skill,

Activity and valour; in the lists

Of virtue only Aristides strives.

With him on earth competitor is none;

Him Jove, sole perfect judge of gods and men,

Can recompense alone. He scornful views

Ambitious heroes, who assume the names

Of thunder-bearers, vanquishers of towns,

And ravagers of kingdoms: vain attempt

In feeble man to imitate in pow'r

Th' inimitable gods! On thee he casts

An eye delighted; thee, by ev'ry tongue

Proclaim'd the just; thee, emulating heav'n,

Where mortals may, in goodness. Yet our voice

Shall, what we can, decree dispraise to those

Whose envy wrong'd that sacred head of thine.

Forbear that censure, Aristides spake:

Though liberty may err through jealous care,

That jealous care far oft'ner saves a state

Than injures private worth. That I forgave

My condemnation, be my witness, Jove!

Whom I, departing from my native soil,

Implor'd that Athens ne'er might feel the loss

Of Aristides. To confirm that pray'r

I have employ'd my exile; not in quest

Of splendid refuge in the courts of kings,

But through each city with unwearied steps

Have pass'd, exhorting, stimulating Greece

To bold defence. I gladly am forestall'd

Here by a noble countryman, whose arm

At Marathon was fam'd, whose Attic lays

Immortalize the brave. I now invoke,

Not with less fervour, though in humbler phrase,

The patriots there triumphant e'en in death,

The manes of Leonidas, of all

Whose gen'rous blood new-spilt in freedom's cause,

Thermopylae beholds, to spread abroad

Their glorious spirit, and exalt your minds

Above the sense of danger. Now the weal

Of gen'ral Greece a gen'ral effort claims.

March to the plain, ye Doric warriors! mount

Your decks; th' Athenians with united arms

Support, no longer in that isthmian fence

Your trust reposing. Were the wall of brass,

Were adamant the rampart, if the pow'r

Of Athens, once extinguish'd, leave your coasts

Defenceless, soon to Pelops' Isle the foe,

Like death, a thousand avenues will find.

He ceas'd: A second acclamation rends

The sky; again th' Olympian temple groans

In replication, and Alphēan banks

Reverberate the sound. The Attic bard

Meantime, o'er-spent with labour of the mind

And voice loud straining, to the tranquil porch

Of Jove is lightly borne; nor knows the hands,

Benevolent and pious, which sustain

His languid burden; till these friendly words

In tones remember'd dissipate his trance.

Doth Aeschylus forget me? O recal

Melissa's brother, and Oïleus' son,

Whose Locrian hinds at one auspicious hour

Assisted thy bold mariners to hurl

Th' Oetaean ruins on Barbarian heads.

See Meliboeus off'ring to thy lip

The stream's refreshing moisture.—Soon restor'd,

Th' Athenian thus: Illustrious Medon, hail!

How fares Melissa, how thy native land?

She rests, I hope, on Oeta still secure,

Returns the Locrian. When Laconia's king

Was slain, and I, commanded to retreat,

Charg'd with a solemn notice to her state,

That he expir'd obedient to the laws;

My life, devoted to avenge his blood,

I sav'd. O'erpow'ring Xerxes soon reduc'd

The Locrians, Dorians, ev'ry northern Greek.

In time my father's treasure I remov'd,

Which with a hundred followers I bore

To Lacedaemon. There indiff'rence cold

I found to all except of Pelops' Isle;

Attention sole to build an isthmian wall:

Pausanias, guardian to the minor king,

Son of divine Leonidas, disdains

Our just complaint: The Ephori confine

To this contracted region all their care,

Save Aëmnestus. Gen'rous oft he mourn'd;

In vain his torpid colleagues he reprov'd.

Disgusted there, I join'd these solemn games,

Where in contention of the warlike spear

I prov'd a victor. Olive-bound, my head

On future fields its freedom shall maintain;

Else, with my late preserver's fate in view,

Shall dying roll this chaplet in the dust.

Repair with me to Athens, cries the bard.

Sage is that counsel, Aristides near

Subjoins: time presses; Aeschylus, embark:

Aegina's hospitable round supplies

My place of rest.—Now swift th' Athenian band,

With Medon's, seek their Delphian barks again;

While Aristides holds an inland course,

Still to his country meditating good,

Of his own wrongs forgetful. As he roam'd

From state to state, his eloquence instill'd

The love of freedom, horror at her loss,

Unchanging hatred to monarchal sway,

With concord, valour, fortitude, and zeal

For Greece in danger. From his wonted seat

In heav'n, so Phoebus, patient and resign'd,

An exile wander'd on the earth below;

Beneficent and helpful, there diffus'd

His light of science; with salubrious skill

Imparted health, and taught the varied use

Of lenient roots and plants. The Delphian keels

Meantime are loosen'd from Elēan sands,

With sails outstretch'd for Athens. On his couch

Still Timon lies despairing; near him watch

The chiefs humane: in kind officious care

The Persian captive from his forehead wipes

The dews of anguish. With a sudden start

Him now the Delphian, erring, thus bespoke:

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Oh Alexander! thou hast lost, my son,

Thy dear betroth'd, the land of Phocis lost

Her noblest virgin! Reach my arms—I see

The ravisher before me: though he frowns,

Begirt with savage multitudes, my sword

Shall reach his barb'rous heart. Here Medon turns

To Aeschylus: The sight of Delphi's chief,

So nobly excellent, so honour'd, lov'd,

By all resorting to consult his god,

A sight once grateful, pierces now my soul

With agony. How oft hath music sooth'd

Distemper'd bosoms! Let thy tuneful chords,

Medicinally sweet, apply their aid.

To him the bard: My harmony his ear

But late rejected. Meliboeus, try

The softer sounds which Pan hath taught the swains.

A modulation by Melissa taught

I will essay, th' obedient swain replies.

He said, and lightly touch'd his warbling flute.

Like fountains rilling, or mellifluous notes

Of birds, a soft and lulling flow attun'd

The ambient air. At first th' afflicted man

Paus'd in attention, soon a trickling tear

Bedew'd his beard; the remedy was chang'd

To pain, and thus he recommenc'd his moan.

Thou, Amarantha, too couldst wake the soul

Of music, melting in thy parent's ear,

Refining joyful seasons, or the hours

Of care beguiling. In a foreign clime

Hang up thy harp, sad captive! Let thy hand

Forget her skill, nor charm Barbarian minds.

But hark! I hear the ruffian. Slave! he calls,

Resume thy harp: Some chosen hymn of Greece,

Such as delighted Phoebus, chaunt to me,

Me now thy god. O Alexander, fly,

Redeem thy love. Apollo, who couldst hurl

Parnassian summits on a host of foes,

Make me thy instrument of wrath! My nerves

Convert to pierceless adamant; my lance

Point with thy father's lightning! Me thy priest,

Sprung from an old, heroic, sacred line,

Thou shouldst avenge. But vengeance is too late;

My daughter yields: a minstrel to her lord,

To her deflow'rer, with obsequious art

The Grecian chords she prostitutes, and smiles

To see my suff'rings!—During this distress,

With canvas press'd, the squadron bounds along

By Coryphasium, by Messene's gulph

In Nestor's Pylian kingdom, by the peak

Of Taenarus, projecting o'er a cave,

Night's gloomy chamber, fabled to descend

Low as Plutonian regions. Thrice the morn

Serenely smil'd, ere Malea's top their sails

O'ershades, Laconian promontory bleak,

The residence of storms. Five distant masts

Are now descried; when Aeschylus bespake

The Locrian chief: Not friendly are those decks;

Our navy, since Thermopylae was forc'd,

To Salamis retiring, leaves the foes

At large to range the sea. Thy counsel give;

To some Laconian harbour shall we steer,

Or wait their coming? Here Oïleus' son:

Thou art my leader; thee propitious Mars

On land and main with equal pow'rs endues:

How can I counsel, stranger to the waves?

At thy commandment to retreat, or fight,

Behold me ready.—Then by Mars, replies

The warrior bard, as no resistless force

Bears down against us, yet insulting hoists

A threat'ning signal, Delphians, rest the oar;

Provide your arms; Athenians, Locrians, arm!

This said, his pinnace, launch'd in haste, convey'd

His orders round to form th' embattled line.

Six were the vessels; Lo! a stately bark

In regal pendants leads th' opponent van.

As when a vernal sun's precarious beam

Is intercepted by a sudden cloud,

Whose turgid folds are overcharg'd with hail;

Some palace, broad, impenetrably roof'd,

Defies the clatt'ring, ineffectual drift,

Which harmless melts away—so flew a show'r

Of missive arms, of arrows, javelins, darts,

With pebbles whirling from the forceful sling,

On Grecian helms and implicated shields;

But innocently fell. Now side to side

The chieftains grappled, and gigantic death

To either deck outstretch'd his purple feet.

Malignant art no engine hath devis'd

To man destructive like his own fell hand

In serried fight. But slaughter now began

To pause in wonder, while the Asian chief,

Whose blazon'd armour beam'd with gold, engag'd

Cecropia's hardy vet'ran foot to foot,

With falchion falchion, shield encount'ring shield.

So, in the season when lascivious heat

Burns in their veins, two branching-headed stags,

Of all the herd competitors for sway,

Long with entangled horns persist in strife,

Nor yield, nor vanquish: stand in gaze the rest,

Expecting which by conquest shall assume

The mastery of all. Now Timon, rous'd

With Meliboeus, and the captive youth,

Starts from his pillow: they attain the poop,

Which instant boarded from an eastern ship

By hostile arms is held. Brave Medon quits

His former station; Aeschylus he leaves

A firm defender there: his falchion keen

Aloft he waves. As some tremendous shark,

Who with voracious jaws resistless foams

Along the main, and finny tribes devours,

Or drives before him on the sun-bright waves,

Where late secure they wanton'd—Medon's might,

Prevailing thus, the steerage heaps with dead;

Though not in time victorious to retain

Unhappy Timon, Meliboeus good,

And Artamanes, not unwilling borne

With them away to join his friends again.

Two Delphian vessels their auxiliar beaks

Present. More furious had the contest glow'd

In ev'ry quarter; when o'er Malean cliffs

The wind began to howl, the troubled sky

To flash sulphureous, menacing a storm,

Such as Saturnia on the Dardan fleet,

Or Neptune's rage for Polyphemus blind

Dash'd on Laërtes' much enduring son.

The squadrons separate; To the shelt'ring lee

Of Malea steer the Grecians; while their foes

Expatiate o'er the roomy sea, to shun

The local tumults of that stormy shore,

And hold a distant course. O'er Timon's fate

Th' Athenian now finds leisure to lament

With Medon, Medon with responsive grief

For Meliboeus. By return of dawn

The waters calm'd invite the vigorous oars

To recommence their progress. Coasting down

Laconia's sea-beat verge, they wear the day;

Then resting moor in Cynosura's port.

From Aeschylus in sighs these accents broke:

Here Aesculapius by his pow'rful art,

Which dar'd revive departed breath in man,

Offending Pluto, thunder-pierc'd by Jove,

Lodg'd his own clay in Cynosura's mold.

O now to immortality preferr'd,

Kind god of med'cine! wouldst thou hear my suit,

Thou shouldst restore Leonidas, to warm

Unfeeling Sparta; then thy Delphian sire

The menac'd doom of Athens would revoke,

Nor I besprinkle with indignant tears

Laconia's shore. O Locrian guest, I call'd

Thy welcome feet to Athens: thou mayst view

(For so the oracle to me denounc'd)

Her tow'rs in dust.—Minerva's tow'rs to fall

Hath Phoebus doom'd? the Locrian chief exclaim'd;

I, who have lost my country, yet can find

A tear for Athens: I attest the gods,

As in one vessel, Aeschylus, we steer

Together now, thy fortune I will share;

And down her stream, howe'er the tempest roar,

With thee embark'd, will never quit thy side.

The tragic bard unbends his mournful brow,

Thus answ'ring: Gen'rous Medon, I confess,

Approaching nearer to my seat of birth,

I dropp'd a tear of anguish; nature wept

At sad forebodings of destruction there.

But know, a true Athenian ne'er desponds:

Abandon'd by allies, condemn'd by heav'n

To see their city burnt, that gallant race

Will yet assert their liberty; will save

Ev'n faithless Sparta, and thy home redeem.

This said, they slept, till morning gives her sign

To weigh the anchors, and unfurl the sails.

Aurora's third appearance tips with light,

Of roseate tincture, spacious walls and tow'rs

Of no ignoble city, rising clear

From shading mists to view. The poet then:

Lo! Medon, fair Troezene; rich her soil,

Her people gen'rous, to Cecropia's state

Inviolably faithful. See that isle

Which fronts the port; redundant in delights

Of art and nature, though of circuit small,

Calauria shews her verdant round of wood.

Here disembarking, with devotion pure

We must invoke the trident-bearing god.

This isle from Phoebus Neptune in exchange

For Delphi took. Thrice holy is the soil,

Deserving rev'rence, by that pow'r belov'd,

Who shar'd a third of ancient Saturn's reign,

His son a brother to Olympian Jove.

Here shall we greet some wonder of her sex,

The sacerdotal maid. Troezene's laws

One of her noblest daughters in her bud

Establish here presiding, here confin'd

To priestly functions, till the genial god

Of marriage hence redeem her, grown mature

For care less rigid, and a tend'rer tie.

The heroes land, where opening to their sight

An elevation of the ground, attir'd

In flow'r-enamell'd turf, display'd the fane

Of structure vast in marble: brass the gates

Refulgence cast; a peristyle sustain'd

The massy roof; huge columns on their heads

The crisped foliage of acanthus bore,

And high o'erlook'd th' impenetrable shade

Which screen'd the island round. Perennial springs

Supplied melodious currents through the woods,

In artificial beds of pearly conchs

Along the sea-beat margin cull'd by nymphs,

The temple's chaste attendants. Unrestrain'd

Here flow'd the native waters; there confin'd

By marble fountains, win th' enchanted eye

To shady-skirted lawns, to op'ning glades,

Or canopies of verdure: all the founts

Were grac'd by guardian images of gods,

The train of Neptune.—Lo! the gate is thrown

Abroad; the priestess, lovely in her shape

As virgin Thetis to the nuptial arms

Of Peleus led, more blooming than the flow'rs

Beneath her decent step, descends the slope:

A matron staid behind her solemn treads;

Close to her side, in radiant arms, a youth

Who like a brother of the Graces moves.

His head, uncas'd, discovers auburn locks

Curl'd thick, not flowing: his sustaining hand

She, rosy-finger'd, to her own admits.

He seem'd Apollo, not with martial fires

Such as on Titan's race he darted keen,

But with th' enamour'd aspect which he wore

When Clymene he won, or Daphne woo'd:

She Cynthia, not a huntress, when the chace

Of rugged boars hath flush'd her eager cheek,

But gently stooping from an argent cloud,

Illumining mount Latmus, while she view'd

Her lov'd Endymion, by her magic pow'r

Entranc'd to slumber.—Aeschylus approach'd,

To whom the youth: Great bard and warrior, hail!

Whose valiant deeds on Artemisium's flood,

In that first conflict with Barbarian fleets,

I strove to copy: there was all my praise.

Me Troezen's leader, from my post remote,

Thou see'st: forbear to wonder, and attend.

Thy Athens now is desolate—relax

That anxious brow—her constancy, her zeal

For gen'ral freedom, elevate her name

Beyond all triumphs. Her discerning chief,

Themistocles, interpreting the words

Of Pythian Phoebus, prov'd that ships alone,

The fleets of Athens, were the wooden walls

Of refuge. All persuaded, fires and sons,

With mothers, daughters, cheerfully forsook

Their native roofs. Lo! Salamis o'erflows

With your illustrious people; through her towns

Aegina swarms; to multitudes myself

Have been conductor; in Troezenian homes,

By cordial invitation, they reside.

To each a daily stipend by a law

They find allotted, schools with teachers fill'd,

That not unletter'd from Troezene's walls

The sons of learned Athens may depart,

When victory to come rebuilds her tow'rs.

With thee behold me ready to embark

For Salamis again, where anchor'd lies

The whole confederated fleet. I leave

My Ariphilia, this my dear betroth'd,

To fight my country's battles; but return,

I trust in Mars, more worthy of her love:

To her and Neptune I but now consign'd

The most ennobled of Athenian dames.

Ha! see on yonder beach the form divine

Of Aristides, newly wafted o'er

From Troezen: thither, not unbid, he came

From his late virtuous progress, in our bounds

Through willing minds sage counsel to diffuse,

His own exterminated friends console.

Cleander finish'd. Soon th' arrival known

Of Aristides from the temple call'd

The Attic dames, from ev'ry purlieu near,

Who with their children in assembly throng

Around him. Silent tears confess his loss

To them and Athens. His benignant mold

By sympathy had melted into grief;

If wisdom, ever present in his soul,

Had not his long-tried constancy upheld

To their behoof. Environ'd by the troop

Of lovely mourners, stood the godlike man

Like some tall cedar, in a garden plac'd

Where glowing tufts of flow'rs and florid plants

Once bloom'd around; now, sear'd by scorching blasts,

In faded colours pine. In look, in phrase

Humane he spake: Be comforted, and hear

My voice applaud Themistocles, my foe,

Whose counsels have preserv'd you. But what praise

Is yours, O glories of the tender sex!

Who brave the floods, without a murmur leave

Your native, dear abodes for public good!

Ye ornaments of Greece, the pride and boast

Of happy fathers, husbands, brothers, sons!

As yet unseen, Euphemia from the rest

Impatient stepp'd, his mother. At her sight,

The best, the greatest of mankind inclines

Before the authress of his being, low

As some celestial to the rev'rend form

Of Cybele, progenitrix of gods.

Her aged arms extending, she began:

Thy moderation aggravates the crime

Of Athens. Son, remember, when thou bad'st

Our household gods farewel, thy parting pray'r;

That Athens never might regret the loss

Of Aristides. Righteous man! then first

The righteous pow'rs denied a pray'r of thine;

Who with inflicted vengeance for thy wrong

Have sorely taught Athenians to lament

In thee their safety banish'd.—Mother, cease,

He quick replied; controul presumptuous thoughts;

Let such uncomfortable words no more

Be heard by these already plung'd in woe:

It is Laconia, who her aid withholds,

Cecropian tribes afflicts. But, noble dames,

In this asylum sojourning a while,

Trust your own merits, and a guardian god;

The sons of Athens on his own domain

He will exalt by conquest, soon transport

Her daughters back to liberty and peace:

From him that grace continue to deserve,

By resignation to his brother Jove,

Who loves the patient.—As on lands adust

By hot solstitial rays, when genial clouds,

In season due unbosoming their stores

Of kindly rain, new dress the pasture brown;

Again the flowrets on the meadows spring;

O'er meadows, fresh in verdure, youthful steeds,

Led by the parent females, joyous bound,

The heifers gambol, kids and lambkins dance,

The birds in dripping bow'rs their plumes repair,

And tune their choral, gratulating throats—

So consolation from his blameless mouth,

With looks benevolent, in soothing tones

Relieves dejection. Soft composure smooths

Each matron's forehead; virgins smile around;

With sprightly feet the children beat the turf,

Him as their father hail in shrill delight.

Not so his own two daughters: infants young,

A dying mother's pledge, Euphemia's charge,

His side they leave not, clinging to his knees

Like woodbines sweet about some stately tree:

He kiss'd, he bless'd them, but controul'd his tears.

Now tow'rds the bay with Aeschylus he turns;

Cleander follows. Ariphilia mute

Stands fix'd in tears; as Niobe, congeal'd

By grief to marble, through its oozing pores

Distill'd sad moisture, trickling down unheard.

On Sipylus the nymphs, by pity call'd,

The weeping rock environ'd; so the train,

Who minister in Neptune's sacred dome,

Inclose their priestess, whom her matron sage

Leads from Cleander's oft reverted sight.

End of the Second Book.

THE ATHENAID.
BOOK the THIRD.

O'ER his own squadron soon Troezene's chief

Hath reassum'd command; the rest embark

Aboard the Delphian. Aeschylus then spake:

To Salamis we hoist returning sails:

Say, Aristides, shall my voice, of weight

Among the tribes, solicit thy recal?

Our country wants that helpful hand of thine.

No, Aristides answers, this again

Might waken faction; let the monster sleep.

Themistocles directs united minds,

In him confiding: not the stock reviv'd

Of all Cecropia's heroes since her birth,

Could like this union prop the Attic state.

Brave too the son of Neocles, expert,

Cool, politic; his talents will uphold

The public safety for his own renown.

May he enjoy a glory so acquir'd!

My secret counsels from Aegina's isle

Shall not be wanting: for my country's sake,

Which I forgive, him, author of my wrongs,

My utmost efforts shall advance to fame.

The gulph Saronic now admits their keel.

By Epidaurus coasting, they attain

The cape of high Spiraeum, which o'erlooks

Aegina. Guided by Aurora's light,

Th' illustrious exile on that isle they land;

Thence veering, steer for Salamis. These words

Now break from Medon; Silent have I gaz'd

On Aristides, shortly must behold

Themistocles; Athenian friend, explain

Between such men what cause produc'd their feuds.

Their diff'rent merits, Aeschylus replied,

Rais'd emulation in their younger days.

A soldier's part they gallantly achiev'd

In the same rank at Marathon; I saw,

Admir'd their valour. For distinction high

In pow'r and fame, Themistocles hath us'd

His num'rous virtues; Aristides walk'd

In virtuous paths, alone by virtue mov'd;

For him his justice hath a title gain'd

Of JUST. The son of Neocles, inflam'd

By envy, stirr'd the people's jealous fear

Against his rival to assert a law,

Where, by inscription of his name on shells,

A citizen so potent, that his will

Seems only wanting to subvert the state,

Is by concurrence of six thousand hands

Doom'd for ten years to absence from their bounds,

Without disgrace or mulct. Among the tribes

Themistocles hath since obtain'd a sway

Which might incur the rigour of that law;

Yet by the gods his influence supreme

He at this crisis gallantly employs

To save the public.—Lift thy wond'ring eyes!

The whole confederated fleet of Greece,

Four hundred gallies, bulwark all the round

Of Salamis: one animated mass

That island shews; from swarms of either sex,

And ev'ry age, dales, hillocks seem to heave

With undulating motion.—His discourse

Clos'd with his voyage: on the furrow'd sands

Of Salamis the vessels rest their keels;

Where living waters from a copious spring

Discharge their bubbling current. On a smooth,

But gently-shelving green, pavilions rose;

One from the rest sequester'd, under shade

Of oaks above, was neighbour to the fane

Of Telamonian Ajax, hero known

At Troy: the Attic phalanx then he join'd,

By Athens honour'd since with rites divine.

This tent, by ensigns of command in front

Adorn'd, Themistocles possess'd: alone

He now remain'd; artificer sublime

Of great expedients, in the greatest storms

Which rock a state, he, politic and firm,

In manly strife with fortune when she frown'd,

Whene'er she smil'd her favour to secure—

He now, to feed his enterprising soul,

Successes past enumerating sat,

Thus in a glow of thought: While others dream'd

Of rest and safety permanent in Greece,

I from the day of Marathon presag'd

The war begun, not finish'd; I, in time,

Exhorted Athens to construct her fleet,

A destin'd refuge; for the sail and oar,

The shrouds and rudder, I her lusty youth

Prepar'd; ere yet the Hellespont was bridg'd,

I cur'd intestine feuds distracting Greece;

When fate remov'd Leonidas from earth,

My penetration, fathoming the depths

Of ocean, like futurity foresaw

Laconia's sloth; yet undismay'd I form'd

The mighty plan to save th' Athenian state

By yielding Athens to Barbarian flames.

That I might plead the mandates of a god,

I won, by secret gifts, the Pythian maid

An oracle to render, which I fram'd;

Th' interpretation to enforce, that ships

Were wooden walls, Minerva's priest I gain'd

Among the people to imprint belief

By feign'd portents, and all religion's craft,

That to the sea their deity was fled,

Th' Acropolis deserting. Thus at will

This restive, fierce democracy I sway

For their salvation, and my own behoof

In pow'r and lustre .... Interrupting here

His eagle vanity in lofty soar,

The warrior-poet and Oïleus' son

Appear. Serene and vacant he descends

At once to affability and ease;

As from his airy tow'r the lark, who strikes

Heav'n's highest concave with his matin trill,

His pinions shuts, and tranquil drops to earth.

Of Aristides Aeschylus he knew

The friend approv'd; him courteous he salutes:

Thy eloquence and arms, the gen'rous toils

Of Aristides too, have reach'd my ear

By late intelligence. Thus far at least

You have prevail'd; this navy is enlarg'd

By squadrons new from various Grecian states.

Is not this Medon? Honour'd in thy sire,

More in thy own deservings, my embrace

Accept; accept the welcome of this tent.

Myronides now joins him, mighty chief!

The destin'd scourge of Thebes; Xanthippus, soon

At Mycale to conquer; in his hand

Young Pericles, that future star of Greece;

Then Cimon, fated on the land and main

To gather palms in one triumphant day;

Subaltern warriors to the prudent son

Of Neocles. Saluting these, he spake:

My gallant fellow-citizens, you come

To learn the issue of this day's debate

In gen'ral council. Wisely did we cede

To Spartan Eurybiades command;

The diff'rent squadrons to their native ports

Had else deserted. Irksome, I confess,

This acquiescence; but occasion looks

Disdainful back on him who lets her pass;

You have embrac'd her. Yielding to the Greeks,

You fix their station here, the num'rous foe

In narrow streights between Psyttalia's isle

And Salamis to face. Can he possess,

Who sees a treasure scatter'd on the ground,

Unless he stoop? So prostrate in your sight

Lies Greece, that precious treasure. Can you rule

Before you save? On union safety grows.

Resigning now an empty name of pow'r,

Your moderation, winning grateful states,

Will to your own a real sway procure

Of long duration. Lacedaemon's pride,

Her best allies abandoning—a force

Of ten weak vessels sparing to a fleet,

Where Attic hands unfurl two hundred sails—

Shall pay hereafter retribution full

To you, Athenians, out of ashes rais'd

From her to wrest ascendancy in Greece.

Not sweetest music lulls the melting soul

Beyond his artful eloquence, which soothes

Their warm, their injur'd virtue. They reply:

To thee, not Sparta, cheerful we submit,

Our leader sole; thou judge and act for all.

Now to his frugal Attic meal they sat;

Where Aeschylus and Medon, each in turn

Unfolding amply his adventures, won

Attention: pleasing information charm'd

Deluded time, till midnight prompted sleep.

Thus, after labours past, the martial bard

His countrymen rejoin'd. The hostile ships,

Which gave him battle under Malea's cape,

Veer'd for the streights Euboean, where the fleet

Of Asia moor'd. Subsiding on their way,

The wind grants leisure for the Persian chief

To view the captives. Artamanes steps

Before the rest: on sight of Caria's queen,

Great Artemisia, who commanded there,

His cheek, with recollection of his sire

To her so late perfidious, reddens warm.

She first to him: Argestes could behold

Me worsted, long resisting adverse fate

On fam'd Thermopylae's disastrous field;

My danger he enjoy'd: his rescued son,

Whose growing merit wins observant eyes,

I see with gladness; welcome to my deck!

But who is he, disconsolate in mien?

O rev'rend man of sorrows, lift thy head!

From Artemisia no dishonour fear.

He makes no answer—Artamanes, speak.

The youth replies: His name is Timon, chief

And priest in Delphi; on our inroad there,

My brother, Mithridates, snatch'd away

From his paternal breast a noble maid,

An only child. His mind is darken'd since

By frenzy; my compassion his distress

Hath ever tended, fervent now implores

Thou wouldst commit him to my grateful care:

Myself am debtor to indulgent Greeks.

In smiles the princess answer'd: Gen'rous youth!

Couldst thou protect him, I would trust thy care;

But those deform'd by ignominious deeds

May exercise in malice stronger pow'r

Than thou in goodness: for the present lay

Th' unhappy Delphian on a bed of rest.

Beside her waits Aronces, high in trust,

A hoary senior, freedman of her sire.

On Meliboeus, on the queen, he fix'd

Alternate looks; then earnest him address'd:

O thou of noble frame, in lowly garb,

Speak whence thou com'st, thy own, thy father's name.

What region gave thee birth? Did nature print,

Or some disaster, on thy cheek that mark?

I am not curious from a slender cause.

The swain replied: From nature I derive

That mark; of parents, of my native seat,

Within this breast no traces now survive;

In childhood stol'n by pirates, I was sold

(Heav'n there was gracious) to the best of men:

Full thirty annual suns have since elaps'd.

He oft appris'd me, that my infant lips

In Grecian accents would repeat the names

Of Lygdamis and Dirce; so I styl'd

My sire and mother.—O imperial dame,

Thyself the seed of Lygdamis, exclaim'd

The ancient man. If circumstance be proof,

He is thy brother, Haliartus, stol'n

Within that period from thy father's tow'r

Wash'd by the waves, that fair abode retir'd.

Halicarnassus mourn'd the dire event.

He is thy likeness. I, preferr'd to rule

Thy father's household; I, whose faithful arms

So oft the infant Haliartus bore,

So oft with eyes delighted have perus'd

That object dear, I never can forget

That signal mark, coeval with his birth,

Distinguishing thy brother.—Pensive, mute,

Uncertain rests the queen.—He still proceeds:

Behold thy son, Leander, melts in tears!

It is the touch of nature hath unclos'd

That tender spring.—To him the regal dame:

Old man, thou know'st I honour, I conside

In thy untainted faith. All strange events,

Dress'd in affecting circumstance, excite

These soft emotions; such in ev'ry breast

Should rise, but not decide. Pure truth is built

Not on our passions; reason is her base.

Him to accept my brother, needs more proof;

But to his manly and ingenuous looks

I render homage. Let him case his limbs.

In Carian steel, and combat near my side;

Let deeds illustrate an exalted mind;

Then, whether kin or alien to my blood,

He like a brother shall obtain regard

From Artemisia.—Meliboeus here:

Endear'd to heroes of Oïlean race,

I claim with none alliance; I have liv'd

With them in joy, from ignorance been rais'd

By them to knowledge, from the lowly state

Which heav'n's deciding providence ordain'd,

To their deserv'd regard, my utmost wish.

To them restore me; I request no more

From deities or mortals. Case my limbs

In Carian armour splendid as thy own,

Ne'er shalt thou see me combat near thy side

Against the Grecians. Place of birth, or blood

Of noblest dye in kindred, quite estrang'd

By time and fortune, I reject for Greece;

Greece, my kind nurse, the guardian of my youth,

Who for my tutors did her heroes lend.

My dear affections all are center'd there,

My gratitude, my duty.—By the hand

She grasps the gallant captive, and proceeds:

Thy sentiments are noble, they bespeak

The care of heroes; thy release my hopes

Forbid, my tend'rest wishes; to constrain

Thy presence here, while we assail thy friends,

I scorn. Aronces, launch a nimble skiff;

On him attendant, reach Nicaea's walls,

For him transport a suit of arms compelete;

Nor let unhappy Timon want thy care.

Thee, Greek or Carian, brother, friend, or soe,

Whate'er thou prov'st hereafter, I will greet

Again, my heart so prompts me; I require

No plighted word, no token; ere we meet

Once more at least, thou wilt not, I confide,

Thou canst not harbour such a thought as flight

From Artemisia.—Meliboeus look'd

Integrity; he felt too full for words,

And sees her thoughtful and perplex'd retire.

Aronces now on Artamanes calls;

With him, and either captive, he embarks;

Of Carian arms he lodges on the poop

A rich-emblazon'd suit. The pinnace light

Along the shore, from ev'ry foe secure,

Skims o'er the waters with distended sails,

Swift as a vig'rous stag who hears no cry

Of dogs or men, but o'er the champaign green

Or valley sweeps, to glory in his speed

And branching antlers. On the form and port

Of Meliboeus long Aronces fed

His eager eye, unsated with delight;

At last he spake: My lord, Nicaea's fort,

A garrison of Xerxes, will afford

A refuge kind, till Caria's queen her sail

Of visitation hoists; the setting sun

Will see my lord safe landed in the cove.

That splendid title thou dost ill bestow

On my condition, Meliboeus then.

To whom Aronces: Oh thou art my lord,

Thou art the son of Lygdamis! My heart,

Old as I am, experienc'd in events,

Without a cause to such excess of joy

Would ne'er mislead me.—Honest hearts, rejoin'd

The other, oft are credulous, and lead

The mind to error; art thou sure, my friend,

That I am no impostor, who hath heard

Of Lygdamis and Dyrce, and apply

Their names to falsehood?—Haliartus, no!

Exclaims Aronces; I before me see

My noble master, Lygdamis, restor'd;

Such as he was when thou, his child, was lost.

Oh! lend attention—lo! the winds are still,

The sea unruffled, while my tongue begins

A tale which once with horror pierc'd my soul,

ut in thy hearing rapt'rous I repeat:

Halicarnassus gave thy father birth,

Her most illustrious citizen; with twins

Thy mother's bed was bless'd; thy sister one,

That Artemisia, glory of her sex,

Bestow'd in marriage on the Carian king;

Thou art the other. Oft thy sire abode

Within a tow'r delightful, but remote,

Wash'd by the billows; one disastrous day,

As thou wast tripping on the silver sands,

Thy nurse attending with some faithful slaves,

A troop of pirates landed; all thy train

Defending thee were kill'd, or wounded sunk

Disabled on the beach; with various spoil,

From those unguarded borders, they convey'd

Aboard their vessels thee their richest prize.

Aronces paus'd.—From Timon, listing by,

This exclamation broke: My daughter too

May be recover'd!—Artamanes here:

Myself, redeem'd from capture, pledge my faith

That I will struggle to restore thy child.

Night dropp'd her dusky veil; the pinnace gain'd

Nicaea, Locrian fortress, seated nigh

Thermopylae; ensuing morn proclaims,

By shouts and clangour, an approaching host.

That gate of Greece, by Lacedaemon's king

So well maintain'd, defenceless now admits

Uncheck'd Barbarian inroads: thus a mound

By art constructed to restrain the sea,

Or some huge river's course, neglected long,

And unsustain'd by vigilance and care,

Affords a passage new to whelming floods,

Whose surface hides fertility in waste;

Till some sagacious architect oppose

To nature's violence a skill divine,

Prescribing where th' obedient wave shall flow.

To his companions Artamanes spake,

As in their sight, extended from a tow'r,

Thermopylae in torrents from its mouth

Pours mingled nations: See Mardonius there,

The son of Gobryas, author of this war,

The flow'r of Asia's captains. At the time

We first attack'd this pass, with num'rous bands,

A distant range of Macedon and Thrace

He was detach'd to ravage and subdue,

Triumphant now returning. Friends, farewel!

Him I must follow. Timon, may the light

Of Mithra shine propitious on m•… days

As I protect thy daughter, and restore,

If fate so wills, her spotless to thy arms.

These words, relumining with hope, compos'd

The clouded soul of Timon. Swift the youth,

In vigour issuing through the portal, mix'd

Among his native friends: a blithsome steer,

At op'ning dawn deliver'd from the stall,

Thus o'er the flow'ry pasture bounding, joins

The well-known herd. Mardonius him receiv'd,

Foe to Argestes, cordial to his son,

Mardonius all-commanding, all in frame,

In nervous limbs excelling, like that bull

Who stemm'd the billows with his brawny chest,

Who on his back of silver whiteness bore

Europa's precious weight to Cretan strands,

Himself a god transform'd. New martial pow'rs

Are here from Haemus, from Pangaean snows.

A Greek in lineage, Alexander here,

Young sov'reign o'er Barbarians, leads to war

His Macedonian troops. To Athens bound

By mutual hospitality, he lov'd

That gen'rous city; now, by force compell'd,

He arms against her. But persuasive love,

The charms and virtues of a Grecian fair,

Will wake remembrance of his Grecian race,

To better counsels turn his youthful mind.

That Asia's king was now advanc'd to Thebes,

Intelligence is brought; this known, a steed

Of swiftest pace Mardonius mounts; command

To Tiridates delegates—Thy force

Extend o'er Locris, o'er the Phocian bounds,

Our conquests new. This giv'n in charge, he speeds,

With no companion but Argestes' son,

Nor other guard than fifty horsemen light,

To greet the king. The second morning shews

Cadmean Thebes, whose citadel was rais'd

By stones descending from Cithaeron's hill

Spontaneous, feign'd in fables to assume

A due arrangement in their mural bed

At sweet Amphion's lute; but truth records,

That savage breasts by eloquence he tam'd,

By his instructions humaniz'd, they felt

The harmony of laws and social ties.

To him succeeded stern Agenor's son,

Phoenician Cadmus, he who letters brought

From Tyre to Greece; yet ignorance o'erwhelm'd

His generation; barbarous of heart,

Obtuse of mind they grew; the suries there,

There parricide and incest reign'd of old,

Impiety and horror: more debas'd,

They now for gold their liberty exchange;

They court a tyrant, whose Barbaric host

Flames round their bulwarks, harrows up their plain,

Lays waste their plenty, drinks Asopus dry,

Their swift Ismenus, and Dircaean spring.

End of the Third Book.

THE ATHENAID.
BOOK the FOURTH.

THE Persian host in readiness was held

Ere dawn; Aurora sees the signal given;

Now trumpets, clarions, timbrels mix their sounds;

Harsh dissonance of accents, in the shouts

Of nations gather'd from a hundred realms,

Distract the sky. The king his march renews

In all his state, collected to descend

Precipitate on Athens; like the bird

Of Jove, who rising to the utmost soar

Of his strong pinions, on the prey beneath

Directs his pond'rous fall. Five thousand horse,

Caparison'd in streak'd or spotted skins

Of tygers, pards, and panthers, form'd the van;

In quilted vests of cotton, azure dyed,

With silver spangles deck'd, the tawny youth

Of Indus rode; white quivers loosely cross'd

Their shoulders; not ungraceful in their hands

Were bows of glist'ning cane; the ostrich lent

His snowy plumage to the tissued gold

Which bound their temples. Next a thousand steeds

Of sable hue on argent trappings bore

A thousand Persians, all select; in gold,

Shap'd as pomegranates, rose their steely points

Above the truncheons; gilded were the shields,

Of silver'd scales the corselets; wrought with gems

Of price, high-plum'd tiaras danc'd in light.

In equal number, in resembling guise,

A squadron follow'd; save their mail was gold,

And thick with beryls edg'd their silver shields.

In order next the Magi solemn trod.

Pre-eminent was Mirzes; snowy white

Their vestments flow'd, majestically pure,

Rejecting splendour; hymning as they mov'd,

They sung of Cyrus, glorious in his rule

O'er Sardis rich, and Babylon the proud;

Cambyses victor of Aegyptian Nile,

Darius fortune-thron'd; but flatt'ry tun'd

Their swelling voice to magnify his son,

The living monarch, whose stupendous piles

Combin'd the Orient and Hesperian worlds,

Who pierc'd mount Athos, and o'erpower'd in fight

Leonidas of Sparta. Then succeed

Ten coursers whiter than their native snows

On wintry Media's fields; Nicaean breed,

In shape to want no trappings, none they wore

To veil their beauty; docile they by chords

Of silk were led, the consecrated steeds

Of Horomazes. Sacred too a car,

Constructed new of spoils from Grecian fanes,

In splendour dazzling as the noontide throne

Of cloudless Mithra, follow'd; link'd in reins,

In traces brilliant overlaid with gems,

Eight horses more of that surpassing race

The precious burden drew; the drivers walk'd,

None might ascend th' inviolable seat;

On either side five hundred nobles march'd

Uncover'd. Now th' imperial standard wav'd;

Of Sanders wood the pedestal, inscrib'd

With characters of magic, which the charms

Of Indian wizards wrought in orient pearl,

Vain talisman of safety, was upheld

By twelve illustrious youths of Persian blood.

Then came the king; in majesty of form,

In beauty first of men, as first in pow'r,

Contemplating the glory from his throne

Diffus'd to millions round, himself he deem'd

Not less than Mithra who illumes the world.

The sons of satraps with inverted spears

His chariot wheels attend; in state their sires,

The potentates of Asia, rode behind;

Mardonius absent, of the gorgeous train

Argestes tower'd the foremost; following march'd

A square battalion of a thousand spears,

By Mithridates led, his eldest born;

Him the lascivious father had depriv'd

Of Amarantha; dangerous the flames

Of vengeance darted from his youthful eye.

Th' immortal guard succeeded; in their van

Masistius, paragon of Asia's peers,

In beauteous figure second to the king,

Among the brave pre-eminent, more good

Than brave or beauteous; to Mardonius dear,

His counsellor and friend, in Xerxes' court

Left by that gen'ral, while in Thrace remote,

To counterpoise Argestes. Tried in arms,

In manners soft, though fearless on the plain,

Of tend'rest feelings, Mindarus, to love

A destin'd captive, near Masistius rank'd;

Ariobarzanes next, whose barb'rous mien

Exemplified his fierceness. Last of horse,

With Midias, pow'rful satrap, at their head,

A chosen myriad clos'd the long array.

From these were kept three hundred paces void;

Promiscuous nations held their distant march

Beyond that limit; numberless they roll'd,

In tumult like the fluctuating sands,

Disturb'd and buoyant on the whirling breath

Of hurricanes, which rend the Libyan wastes.

To Thebes descending, soon Mardonius learn'd

That pioneers, with multitudes light-arm'd,

Detach'd before the army, bent their course

To Athens. On he speeds, rejecting food,

Disdaining rest; till midnight Cynthia shews

A vaulted hollow in a mountain's side;

There in his clanging arms Mardonius throws

His limbs for slight refreshment; by him lies

Argestes' son; to pasture springing nigh,

The troop dismiss'd their steeds, and slept around.

To superstition prone from early age

Was Gobryas' son; o'erheated now by toil,

Yet more by thirst unsated of renown,

His soul partakes not with her wearied clay

In sleep repose; the cavern to her view

Appears in vast dimension to enlarge,

The sides retire, th' ascending roof expands,

All chang'd to crystal, where pellucid walls

Expose to sight the universe around.

Thus did a dream invade the mighty breast

Of that long matchless conqueror, who gave

Italia's clime a spoil to Punic Mars,

When on the margin of Iberus lay

The slumb'ring chief, and eagerly to birth

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The vast conception of his pregnant mind

Was struggling. Now Mardonius to himself

Seems roving o'er the metamorphos'd cave;

Orbicular above, an op'ning broad

Admits a flood of light, and gentlest breath

Of odorif'rous winds; amid the blaze,

Full on the center of a pavement, spread

Beyond whate'er portentous Aegypt saw

In Thebes or Memphis, Fame, presiding there,

Gigantic shape, an amethyst entire,

Sits on a throne of adamant. On strength

Of pillars, each a topaz, leans the dome;

The silver pavement's intervening space

Between the circling colonnade and wall

With pedestals of diamond is fill'd;

The crystal circuit is comparted all

In niches verg'd with rubies. From that scene

The gloom of night for ever to expel,

Imagination's wanton skill in chains

Of pearl throughout the visionary hall

Suspends carbuncles, gems of native light,

Emitting splendour, such as tales portray,

Where Fancy, winning sorceress, deludes

Th' enchanted mind, rejecting reason's clue,

To wander wild through fiction's pleasing maze.

The oriental hero in his dream

Feels wonder waking; at his presence life

Pervades the statue; Fame, slow-rising, sounds

Her trumpet loud; a hundred golden gates

Spontaneous fly abroad; the shapes divine,

In ev'ry age, in ev'ry climate sprung,

Of all the worthies since recorded time,

Ascend the lucid hall. Again she sounds

A measure sweeter than the Dorian flute

Of Pan, or lyre of Phoebus; each assumes

His place allotted, there transform'd is fix'd

An adamantine statue; yet unfill'd

One niche remains. To Asia's gazing chief

The goddess then: That vacancy for thee,

Illustrious son of Gobryas, I reserve.

He thus exults: Bright being, dost thou grant

To Persia triumphs through my conqu'ring spear.

He said: that moment through the sever'd earth

She sinks; the spacious fabric is dissolv'd;

When he, upstarting in the narrow cave,

Delivers quiek these accents: Be renown

My lot! O Fortune, unconcern'd I leave

The rest to thee. Thus dauntless, ere his sleep

Was quite dispers'd; but waken'd soon he feels

Th' imperfect vision heavy on his mind

In dubious gloom; then lightly with his foot

Moves Artamanes; up he springs; the troop

Prepare the steeds; all mount; Aurora dawns.

The swift forerunners of th' imperial camp

Ere long Mardonius joins, where Athens-lifts

Her tow'rs in prospect. Unexpected seen,

Their mighty chief with gen'ral, cordial shouts

They greet; their multitude, their transport, clear

His heart from trouble. Soon Barbarian throngs

With shading standards through Cephissus wade,

Who, had his fam'd divinity been true,

His shallow stream in torrents would have swoln

A while, to save the capital of Greece,

Superb in structure, long-disputed prize

Between Minerva and the god of seas,

Of eloquence the parent, source of arts,

Fair seat of freedom! Open are the gases,

The dwellings mute, all desolate the streets,

Save that domestic animals forlorn,

In cries awak'ning pity, seem to call

Their masters home; while shrieking beaks of prey,

Or birds obscene of night with heavy wings,

The melancholy solitude affright.

Is this the city whose presumption dar'd

Invade the lord of Asia? sternly said

Mardonius ent'ring; whither now are fled

Th' audacious train, whose firebrands Sardis felt?

Where'er you lurk, Athenians, if in sight,

Soon shall you view your citadel in flames;

Or, if retreated to a distant land,

No distant land of refuge shall you find

Against avenging Xerxes: yet I swear

By Horomazes, if thy gallant race

Have sacrific'd their country to contend

With mightier efforts on a future day,

Them I will honour, though by honour forc'd

I must destroy. Companions, now advance;

Unnumber'd hands to overturn these walls

Employ; not Xerxes through a common gate

Shall enter Athens; lay the ruins smooth,

That this offending city may admit,

In all his state, her master with his host

In full array. His order is obey'd.

Through smooth Ismenus, and Asopus clear,

The royal host in slow procession led,

Their first encampment on a district lodge,

Plataea's neighbour; that renown'd abode

Of noblest Greeks was desert. In his tent

The king by night requested audience grants

To Leontiades, that colleague base

Of Anaxander, traitor like himself

To Sparta's hero. Xerxes thus he warns:

Now be the king reminded of the rage

Against his father, which Plataea bore

At Marathon; that recently she brav'd

Himself in Oeta's pass; nor Thespia fought

With less distinguish'd rancour: be inform'd,

The first is near, the other not remote;

Thy vengeance both deserve. Destroy their fields,

Consume their dwellings; thy o'erflowing camp

May spare a large detachment; I will go

Their willing guide. Masistius present spake:

O monarch, live for ever in the hearts

Of conquer'd nations, as of subjects born;

Associate clemency with pow'r, and all

Must yield obedience: thou art master here,

Treat thy new vassals kindly.—In a frown

Argestes: Shall the king with kindness treat

Invet'rate foes and zealous friends alike?

Shall undeserving Thespians, shall the race

Of fell Plataea, unprovok'd who stain'd,

On Attic fields, her spear with Persian blood,

To help detested Athens, shall they share

The clemency of Xerxes, in despite

Of this our Theban host, who faithful gives

Such wholesome counsel? Sov'reign, when I brought

Thy condescension late to Sparta's king,

Among the grim assembly in his tent

Diomedon, Demophilus, I saw,

With Dithyrambus, men preferring death

To amity with thee, commanders all

Of these malignant cities.—Xerxes here:

Approving, Leontiades, thy words

I hear; Masistius, thee my servant loves,

Mardonius, always victor in my name;

Yet learn at last, O satrap! who dost wear

The fullest honours, to partake with me,

What I inherit from Darius, hate

Inflexible, inexpiable hate

To Athens, hate to her confed'rates all.

Go, Theban, chuse what nations of our host

Thou dost prefer; thyself appoint their chief.

I chuse the Caspians, Sacians; name for chief

Brave Mithridates, great Argestes' heir,

Rejoins the traitor. These ferocious most

He best approv'd, and Mithridates chose,

Among the youth most vigorous and fell

In acts of blood. To hear Mardonius prais'd,

Argestes, dreading his return, conceiv'd

A pain, yet temper'd by a secret joy

He felt arise; who, rival of his son,

Long wish'd him distant from the guarded roof

Where Timon's daughter was confin'd. Dismiss'd

To rest, all separate. They renew their march

By day-spring; Leontiades, to wreak

On hapless Thespia and Plataea's walls

The hate implacable of Thebes; the king,

With equal rage, to spoil Minerva's reign.

Her olive groves now Attica disclos'd,

The fields where Ceres first her gifts bestow'd,

The rocks whose marble crevices the bees

With sweetness stor'd; unparallel'd in art

Rose structures, growing on the stranger's eye,

Where'er it roam'd delighted. On like Death,

From his pale courser scatt'ring waste around,

The regal homicide of nations pass'd,

Unchaining all the furies of revenge

On this devoted country. Near the banks

Of desolate Cephissus halting sat

The king; retarding night's affrighted steeds,

The conflagration wide of crumbling tow'rs,

Of ruin'd temples, of the crackling groves,

Of villages and towns, he thence enjoy'd,

Thence on the manes of Darius call'd:

Son of Hystaspes! if the dead can hear,

Thou didst command thy servants to remind

Thy anger daily of th' Athenian race,

Who insolently plough'd the eastern waves,

Thy shores affronted with their hostile beaks,

And burnt thy town of Sardis; at my call,

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Ghost of my father! lift thy awful brow;

Rememb'ring now th' Athenians, see thy son

On their presumptuous heads retaliate flames:

Depriv'd of burial, shall their bodies leave

Pale spectres here to wail their city fall'n,

And wander through its ruins.—Closing here

His barb'rous lips, the tyrant sought his couch.

Thy summits now, Pentelicus, and thine,

Haunt of sonorous bees, Hymettus sweet!

Are ting'd with orient light. The Persian host

Renew their progress; Athens soon receives

Their floating banners and extended ranks

Smooth o'er the fosse, by mural ruins fill'd.

As from a course of ravage, in her den

Of high Cithaeron plung'd the monster Sphinx

Her multifarious form, preparing still

For havoc new her fangs and talons dire;

Till her enigma Laius' son resolv'd,

Whence desperation cast her headlong down

The rocky steep; so, after thy career

Of devastation, Xerxes, rest awhile

Secure in Athens, meditating there

Fresh woes to men. Than Oedipus more wise,

Th' interpreter of oracles is nigh;

Soon will the son of Neocles expel

Thee from thy hold, by policy too deep

For thy barbarian council to explore.

Before the Prytanaeum stops the car.

Now savage bands inclose that rev'rend seat

Of judgment; there Mardonius waits. The king,

Pleas'd with his care, salutes him: Thou hast long

Sweat under harness in th' eternal snows

Of Macedon and Thracia, hast my name

There dress'd in ample trophies; but thy speed,

Preventing my arrival, is unknown

To wings of eagles, or the feet of stags.

Mardonius answers: Ever live the king

To find his servants zeal outstrip in speed

The swiftest eagle, or the fleetest stag!

Descend, thou lord of Athens! destin'd soon

To universal sway.—They climb the steps;

Alone Argestes follows. In the hall

These words of high import Mardonius spake:

My liege, the season calls for quick resolves;

By thee entrusted with supreme command,

When thou art absent, to Phaleron's port,

Late arsenal of Athens, all the ships

I order'd from Euboea; they below

Lie well equipp'd and shelter'd, nor remote

The whole united armament of Greece

At Salamis. With Ariabignes great,

Thy royal brother, and for merit nam'd

Thy ruling admiral, the kings of Tyre,

Of Sidon, Caria's princess, and the rest,

I held a council; they concurr'd to fight,

And by one effort terminate the war,

All but the queen, from whose ingenuous mouth

Will I, though differing, faithfully relate

Each argument, each word—'Mardonius, tell

'The king,' she said, 'what peril I foresee

'From this attempt; his ships defeated leave

'His host endanger'd; ever bold, the Greeks

'Are desp'rate now; the want of sustenance

'Will soon disperse them to their sev'ral homes;

'The sea's entire dominion to the king

'Will then be left; whole armies then embark'd

'Through inlets free may pour on Pelops' Isle,

'Whose coast I newly have explor'd with care.

'Mardonius, thou art eager; do not trust

'In multitude; full many in the fleet

'Are false, are cowards. Let our sov'reign shun

'Precipitation; short delay at least

'Is safe; a naval combat lost, is bane.'

A greater bane delay, Argestes here;

Who reading artful in the royal eye

Determination for a naval fight,

His malice thus on Artemisia vents:

My liege forgets that Caria's queen derives

Her blood from Grecian fountains; is it strange

She should confine thy formidable hand,

And so preserve her kindred?—Stern the king:

Though I reject her counsel to forbear

The fight, none better will that fight sustain

Than she, whose zeal, fidelity approv'd,

And valour, none can equal but the son

Of Gobryas. Go, Mardonius, see the fleet

Prepar'd by morning; let Argestes burn

The citadel and temples; I confer

On him that office.—Utt'ring this, he turn'd

Apart; forlorn Argestes hence presag'd

Decline of regal favour, cent'ring all

In Gobrya's son, who fiercely thus pursued:

Thou hear'st the king; now hear a soldier's tone:

Of old I know thee slanderer of worth;

And I, distinguish'd by a late success,

To envious eyes no welcome guest return.

Thou canst traduce the absent, whom thy tongue

Would flatter present. Not in Sufa's court,

Amid the soft security of peace,

We languish now; great Xerxes on the stage

Of glorious war, amid the din of arms,

Can hear thy coz'ning artifice no more.

Oh that he ne'er had listen'd! Asia's lord,

When to a Tyrian trafficker demean'd,

He barter'd for his glory. By my sword,

Leonidas, preferring fame to sway

O'er proffer'd Greece, was noble! What thy part,

Who tamely proff'ring wast with scorn dismiss'd?

Go, burn the fanes! Destruction is thy joy.

He said, departing swiftly; on his way

Meets Artamanes, meritorious youth,

Who, not resembling an unworthy sire,

Had fix'd th' esteem of that illustrious man.

To him Mardonius: Brave Autarctus greet

In words like these—Exalted to the bed

Of bright Sandauce, sister of thy king,

Now is the season to approve thy worth.

Collect ten thousand warriors on the strand

Which faces Salamis; an island near,

Psyttalia nam'd, possess; ere long the foes

Against her craggy border may be driven;

Let spoils and captives signalize thy zeal.

Thou, Artamanes, must attend him there,

Nor let me want intelligence. Farewel!

This mandate giv'n, the active chief proceeds

With steps impatient to Phaleron's port.

End of the Fourth Book.

THE ATHENAID.
BOOK the FIFTH.

THE sun was set; Autarctus and his band,

In haste collected, through nocturnal shades

To small Psyttalia pass'd a narrow frith.

As on a desert forest, where at night

A branching oak some traveller hath climb'd

To couch securely; if the trunk beset

By famish'd wolves in herd, who thirst for blood,

Pale morn discovers to his waking sight,

His hair in terrour bristles, pants his breast

In doubt of safety; thus Aurora shew'd

The unexpected gleam of Persian arms,

Which fill'd Psyttalia, while the Attic strand,

With numbers equal to its sandy stores

Was cover'd, and Phaleron's road with masts,

A floating forest, crowded like the pines,

Majestic daughters of the Pontic woods.

Fair Athens burn'd in sight; embodied smoke

Rose mountainous, emitting pillar'd flames,

Whose umber'd light the newly-dawning sun

But half eclips'd. At intervals are heard

The hollow sound of columns prostrate laid,

The crash of levell'd walls, of sinking roofs

In massy ruin. Consternation cold

Benumbs the Greek spectators, all aghast

Except th' Athenians, whose unshaken minds

To this expected fate resign'd their homes

For independence. Gigantean rang'd

From ship to ship Despair; she drives ashore

The timid leaders, changing late resolves

For gen'rous combat into base retreat.

To seek the shelter of their native ports

They clamour loud; the admiral convenes

A council; him Themistocles address'd:

Now Eurybiades, to whose command

I voluntary yielded, from thy charge,

Not less for Athens than for gen'ral Greece,

I claim a righteous and heroic part,

The promis'd fight in these auspicious streights,

Which, rend'ring vain the multitude of foes,

Assure success. But separate this fleet,

A hundred openings may Barbarians chuse

To Pelops' region; not on ev'ry spot

An isthmian wall is plac'd. Depriv'd of all,

If to your succour we Athenians lose

All claim, ye Greeks, be valiant for yourselves!

See Attica in flames, the temples raz'd,

The tombs defac'd, the venerable dust

Of our forefathers soatter'd in the wind!

Would you avoid calamities like these,

To sound instruction lean; th' almighty gods

Wise counsels bless with prosperous events,

To its own folly wilful blindness leave.

Proud Adimantus, on his birth elate,

The admiral of Corinth, envying long

Cecropia's name and pow'r, arose and spake:

For public safety when in council meet

Men who have countries, silence best becomes

Him who hath none; shall such presume to vote,

Too patient Spartan, nay to dictate here,

Who cannot tell us they possess a home?

For Attica in flames, her temples raz'd,

Her tombs disfigur'd, for th' ignoble dust

Of thy forefathers scatter'd in the wind,

Thou low-born son of Neocles, must Greece

Her welfare hazard on a single day,

Which, unsuccessful, endless ruin brings?

Cleander heard, Troezene's youthful chief;

Warm was his bosom, eloquent his tongue,

Strong-nerv'd his limbs, well exercis'd in arms;

Preventing thus Themistocles, he spake:

Though blood, Corinthian, be of noblest dye,

Base-born the soul when folly is her sire.

Absurdity and malice no reply

Deserve from thee, Athenian! thee, more wise,

More valiant, more distinguish'd in thyself,

Than all the vaunted progeny of gods.

Did you not mourn, ye deities, to see

A nation, you created with their soil,

Forsake that ancient land? or not admire

Your greatest work, the conduct of that man,

Who such a race from such endearing homes,

Wives, husbands, elders, infants, maidens, youths,

In gen'rous quest of liberty could lead?

Do you not look indignant down to hear

Such venomous reproaches on his worth,

A wrong to Greece? Her saviour him I call,

As yet, I trust, his dictates will prevail.

While he declaim'd, Themistocles, who scorn'd

The insolent Corinthian, sat and scann'd

The looks of all; his penetrating fight

Could read the thoughts of men; the major part

He saw averse to battle, Sparta's chief

Uncertain, cold, and slow. Affecting here

Decisive looks, and scorn of more debate,

Thus brief he clos'd: Athenians still possess

A city buoyant on two hundred keels.

Thou, admiral of Sparta, frame thy choice;

Fight, and Athenians shall thy arm sustain;

Retreat, Athenians shall retreat to shores

Which bid them welcome, to Hesperian shores,

For them by ancient oracles reserv'd,

Safe from insulting foes, from false allies,

And Eleutherian Jove will bless their flight:

So said your own Leonidas, who died

For public welfare. You that glorious death

May render, Spartans, fruitless to yourselves.

This said, he left the council; not to fly,

But with his wonted policy compel

The Greeks to battle. At a secret cove

He held in constant readiness a skiff,

In Persian colours mask'd; he there embark'd

The most entrusted of his household, charg'd

With these instructions: Now return my love,

Sicinus, born a Persian, of my house

Not as a slave long habitant, but friend,

My children's tutor, in my trust supreme.

To Xerxes' navy sail; accost her chief

In words like these—Themistocles, who leads

Athenian squadrons, is the monarch's friend,

Approv'd by this intelligence; the Greeks

In consternation shortly will resolve

To separate and fly; let Asia's fleet

Her numbers round in diligence extend,

Investing ev'ry passage; then, confus'd,

This whole consederated force of Greece

Will sooner yield than fight, and Xerxes close

At once so perilous a war.—He ceas'd.

Meanwhile the council wasted precious hours,

Till Eurybiades at length alarm'd

Lest all th' Athenians should retreat incens'd,

Postpon'd the issue to th' ensuing day.

Themistocles, retiring to his tent,

There found his wife; his stratagem on wings

Of execution, left his mind serene;

Relax'd in thought, he trifled with his boy,

Young child, who playful on the mother's lap,

Soon as of Xerxes earnest she enquir'd,

With frowning graces on his brow of down,

Clench'd fast his infant hands. The dame pursues:

O that the Greeks would emulate this child,

Clench fast their weapons, and confront the foe!

Did we abandon our paternal homes,

Our nuptial chambers, from the cradle snatch

Our helpless babes? Did tender maidens join

Unanimous the cry, 'Embark, embark

'For Salamis and freedom!' to behold

The men debating (so the Attic wives

Are told) uncertain if to fight or serve?

Who are the cowards, rather traitors, say?

We will assail them, as the Trojan dames

Did Polymestor, royal thief, who broke

The holiest ties for gold.—Take comfort, love;

All shall be well, Themistocles replied.

Yes, I in thee have comfort, she proceeds;

Thou canst devise some artifice to urge

Ev'n dastards on; Sicinus thou hast sent,

I ask not whither.—In a smile her lord:

With thy permission, then, the gods remain

My confidents: to ease thee, I proclaim

This boy the first of Greeks; he governs thee,

Thou me, I Athens; who shall govern Greece,

As I am sure to circumvent the foes.

Retiring, seek the town; console the dames;

Thy husband never was so high in hope.

She pleas'd, departing, spake: To govern thee

Requires an art which never woman knew,

Nor man; most artful, thou controllest all,

Yet call'st, nay often seem'st, thyself controll'd.

She distant, thus he meditates alone:

True, when I seem controll'd by others most,

Then most assur'd my enterprize succeeds.

O lib'ral nature! science, arts acquir'd,

I little value; while thy light supplies

Profuse invention, let capricious chance

With obstacles and dangers gird me round,

I can surmount them all; nor peace, nor war,

Nor all the swift vicissitudes of time,

E'er gave emergency a birth too strong

For me to govern. On this crisis hangs

My future greatness; whether joy or grief

Shall close the term of being, none foreknow;

My penetrating spirit I will trust

Thus far prophetic; for a time, at least,

I will possess authority and pow'r

To fix a name enduring like the sun.

Thus, in his own strong faculties secure,

To rest he tranquil sunk, and slept till dawn;

Then early rose. Advancing from the shore,

A manly figure he observes, the face

Wrapt in a mantle; as dividing clouds

Reveal th' unmuffled sun, the mantle cast

Aside discovers the majestic front

Of Aristides, who the silence breaks:

Dissensions past, as puerile and vain,

Now to forget, and nobly strive who best

Shall serve his country, Aristides warns

His ancient foe Themistocles. I hear

Thou giv'st the best of councils, which the Greeks

Reject, through mean solicitude to fly;

Weak men! throughout these narrow seas the foe

Is station'd now, preventing all escape.

Themistocles, though covetous of fame,

Though envying pow'r in others, was not bred

In horrid deserts, not with savage milk

Of tigers nurs'd, nor bore a ruthless heart.

He thus replied: With gratitude this foe

Accepts thy welcome news, thy proffer'd aid,

Thy noble challenge; in this glorious race

Be all our strife each other to surpass.

First know my inmost secrets; if the streights

Are all invested with Barbarian ships,

The act is mine; of our intended flight

I through Sicinus have appris'd the foes;

Of his success thee messenger I hail.

The exile then: Such policy denotes

Themistocles; I praise, the Greeks have cause

To bless, thy conduct; teach me now what task

I can achieve; to labour, to advise

With thee commanding, solely to enjoy

The secret pleasure of preserving Greece,

Is my pursuit; the glory all be thine.

Before the council shew that honour'd face,

Rejoins the chief; report thy tidings there.

To preparation for immediate fight

Exhort; such notice they would slight in me,

In thee all men believe.—This said, they mov'd.

Them on their way Myronides approach'd,

Xanthippus, Cimon, Aeschylus, and all

The captains, fixing reverential eyes

On Aristides; this the wary son

Of Neocles remark'd; he gains the town

Of Salamis, the council there is met;

To them th' illustrious exile he presents,

At whose appearance all th' assembly rise,

Save Adimantus; fast by envy bound,

He sits morose; illib'ral then the word,

As Aristides was in act to speak,

Thus takes: Boeotia, Attica reduc'd,

The Dorians, Locrians, you already know;

To me this morn intelligence arriv'd,

That Thespia, that Platea were in flames,

All Phocis conquer'd; thus alone of Greece

The Isle of Pelops unsubdued remains.

For what is lost, ye Grecians, must we face

Such mightier numbers, while barbarian hate

Lurks in Psyttalia, watching for the wrecks

Of our defeated navy? Shall we pause

Now at the Isthmus with united force

To save a precious remnant? Landing there,

Your sailors turn to soldiers, oars to spears;

The only bulwark you have left, defend.

Then Aristides: Ignominious flight

Necessity forbids; Aegina's shore

Last night I left; from knowledge I report.

The hostile navy bars at either mouth

The narrow streight between Psyttalia's Isle

And Salamis, where lie your anchor'd ships.

But shall the Greeks be terrified? What more

Can they solicit of propitious heav'n,

Than such deluded enemies to face,

Who trust in numbers, yet provoke the fight

Where multitude is fruitless?—Closing here,

The unassuming exile straight retir'd.

Cleander ent'ring heard; while Corinth's chief,

Blind with malignity and pride, pursued:

Her strength must Greece for Attica destroy'd

Waste on the credit of a single tongue,

From Athens banish'd? Swift Cleander spake:

Is there in Greece who doubts that righteous tongue,

Save Adimantus? To suspect the truth

Of that illustrious exile, were to prove

Ourselves both false and timid. But enough

Of altercation; from the fleet I come,

The words of Aristides I confirm;

Prepare to fight; no passage have our ships

But through embattled foes.—The council rose.

In this tremendous season, thronging round

Th' accomplish'd son of Neocles, their hopes

In his unerring conduct all repose.

Thus on Olympus round their father Jove

The deities collected, when the war

Of earth's gigantic offspring menac'd heav'n,

In his omnipotence of arm and mind

Confiding. Eurybiades supreme

In title, ev'ry leader speeds to act

What great Themistocles suggests; himself,

In all expedients copious, seeks his wife,

Whom he accosts, encircled where she stood

With Attic dames: Timothea, now rejoice!

The Greeks will fight; to-morrow's sun will give

A glorious day of liberty to Greece.

Assemble thou the women; let the dawn

Behold you spread the Salaminian beach;

In your selected ornaments attir'd,

As when superb processions to the gods

Your presence graces, with your children stand

Encompass'd; cull your fairest daughters, range

Them in the front; alluring be their dress,

Their beauties half discover'd, half conceal'd;

As when you practise on a lover's eye,

Through that soft portal to invade the heart;

So shall the faithful husband from his wife

Catch fire, the father from his blooming race,

The youthful warrior from the maid he loves:

Your looks will sharpen our vindictive swords.

In all the grace of polish'd Athens thus

His charge pronouncing, with a kind embrace

He quits her bosom, nor th' encircling dames

Without respectful admonition leaves

To aid his consort. Grateful in itself

A task she soon begins, which pleases more

As pleasing him. A meadow fresh in green,

Between the sea-beat margin and the walls,

Which bore the island's celebrated name,

Extended large; there oft the Attic fair

In bevies met; Themistocles the ground

To them allotted, that communion soft,

Or pastime, sweetly cheating, might relieve

The sad remembrance of their native homes.

Here at Timothea's summons they conven'd

In multitude beyond the daisies, strewn

Thick o'er the verdure from the lap of spring,

When most profuse. The wives, the mothers here

Of present heroes, there in bud are seen

The future mothers of immortal sons,

Of Socrates, of Plato, who to birth

Had never sprung if Xerxes had prevail'd,

Or would have liv'd Barbarians. On a mount

Timothea plac'd, her graceful lips unclos'd:

Ye wives, ye mothers, and ye fair betroth'd,

Your husbands, sons, and suitors claim that aid

You have to give, and never can so well.

A signal day of liberty to Greece

Expect to-morrow; of the glorious scene

Become spectators; in a bridal dress,

Ye wives, encompass'd with your tender babes,

Ye rev'rend matrons in your sumptuous robes,

As when superb processions to the gods

Your presence graces; but ye future brides,

Now maids, let all th' allurement of attire

Enhance your beauties to th' enamour'd eye:

So from the face he loves shall ev'ry youth

Catch fire, with animating passion look

On her, and conquer. Thus Cecropia's maids,

Who left their country rather than abide

Impure compulsion to Barbarian beds,

Or ply the foreign loom with servile hands,

Shall live to see their hymeneal morn;

Bless'd in heroic husbands, shall transmit

To late posterity the Attic name.

And you, whose exemplary steps began

Our glorious emigration, you shall see

Your lords, your sons, in triumph to your homes

Return, ye matrons—Or with them will die,

If fortune frown, Laodice aloud;

For this I hold a poniard; ere endure

A Persian yoke, will pierce this female heart.

Enthusiastic ardour seems to change

Their sex; with manlike firmness all consent

To meet Timothea there by early dawn

In chosen raiment, and with weapons arm'd,

As chance should furnish. Thus Timothea sway'd,

The emulator of her husband's art,

But ne'er beyond immaculate intent;

At her suggestion interpos'd her friend

Laodice, the consort young and fair

Of bold Aminias, train'd by naval Mars,

From the same bed with Aeschylus deriv'd.

Troezene's leader, passing by, admir'd

The gen'rous flame, but secretly rejoic'd

In Ariphilia at Calauria safe;

He to thy tent, Themistocles, was bound.

Thee to Sicinus list'ning, just return'd

From his successful course, Cleander found,

Thee of thy dear Timothea first inform'd,

While thou didst smile applause. The youth pursued:

From Aristides I deputed come;

He will adventure from Psyttalia's isle

This night to chace the foe, if thou concur

In help and counsel: bands of Attic youth,

Superfluous force excluded from the fleet,

With ready arms the enterprize demand;

Them, with his troop, Oïlean Medon joins.

A noble Grecian, sage, experienc'd, brave,

Returns the chief; my answer is concise:

Sicinus, fly! their pinnaces and skiffs

Command th' Athenian vessels to supply

At Aristides' call; th' attempt is wise,

Becoming such a soldier; thou remain

With him, to bring me tidings of success.

Swift as a stone from Balearic slings,

Sicinus hastens to th' Athenian fleet;

Cleander light th' important order bears

To Aristides, whose exalted voice

Collects the banding youth. So gen'rous hounds

The huntsman's call obey; with ringing peals

Their throats in tune delight Aurora's ear;

They pant impatient for the scented field,

Devour in thought the victims of their speed,

Nor dread the rav'nous wolf, nor tusky boar,

Nor lion, king of beasts. The exile feels

Returning warmth, like some neglected steed

Of noblest temper, from his wonted haunts

Who long hath languish'd in the lazy stall;

Call'd forth, he paws, he snuffs th' enliv'ning air,

His strength he proffers in a cheerful neigh

To scour the vale, to mount the shelving hill,

Or dash from thickets close the sprinkling dew.

He thus to Medon: Of Psyttalia's shore

That eastern flat contains the Persian chief,

Known by his standard; with four thousand youths

Make thy impression there; the western end

Our foes neglect, a high and craggy part;

But nature there through perforated rock

Hath left a passage, with its mouth above

Conceal'd in bushes; this, to me well known,

I will possess; thence rushing, will surround

The unsuspecting Persian. Darkness falls;

Let all embark; at midnight ply the oar.

They hear and march; allotted seats they take

Aboard the skiffs Sicinus had prepar'd,

Impatient waiting, but impatience keeps

Her peace. The second watch is now elaps'd,

That baneful season, mark'd in legends old,

When death-controlling sorcery compell'd

Unwilling spirits back to mortal clay

Entomb'd, when dire Thessalian charmers call'd

Down from her orb the pallid queen of night,

And hell's tremendous avenues unclos'd;

To Asia's mothers now of real bane,

Who soon must wail ten thousand slaughter'd sons.

The boats in order move; full-fac'd the moon

Extends the shadows of a thousand masts

Across the mirror of cerulean floods,

Which feel no ruffling wind. A western course

With his division Aristides steers,

The Locrian eastward; by whose dashing oars

A guard is rous'd, not timely to obstruct

His firm descent, yet ready on the strand

To give him battle. Medon's spear by fate

Is wielded; Locrians and Athenians sweep

The foes before them; numbers fresh maintain

Unceasing conflict, till on ev'ry side

His reinforcement Aristides pours,

And turns the fight to carnage: by his arm

Before a tent of stately structure sinks

Autarctus brave in death. The twilight breaks

On heaps of slaughter; not a Persian lives

But Artamanes, from whose youthful brow

The beaver sever'd by th' auspicious steel

Of Medon, shew'd a well-remember'd face;

The Locrian swift embrac'd him, and began:

Deserve my kindness by some grateful news

Of Meliboeus and the Delphian priest;

Not Aeschylus in pity shall exceed

My care in this thy second captive state.

His grateful news the Persian thus repeats:

Nicaea, fort of Locris, them contains;

Though pris'ners, happy in the guardian care

Of Artemisia. What disastrous sight!

Autarctus there lies prostrate in his blood.

Oh, I must throw me at the victor's feet!

He went, by Medon introduc'd, to kneel;

Forbid by Aristides, he began:

My own compassion to solicit yours,

Without disgrace might bend a satrap's knee;

I have a tale of sorrow to unfold,

Might soften hearts less humaniz'd and just

Than yours, O gen'rous Grecians! In that tent

The widow'd wife of this late envied prince,

Young, royal matron—twenty annual suns

She hath not told—three infants ... At these words

The righteous man of Athens stays to hear

No more; he gains the tent, he enters, views

Sandauce, silent in majestic woe,

With her three children in their eastern vests

Of gems and gold; urbanity forbids

To interrupt the silence of her grief;

Sicinus, waiting nigh, he thus enjoins:

Thou, born a Persian, from a ghastly stage

Of massacre and terrour these transport

To thy own lord, Themistocles; the spoils

Are his, not mine. Could words of comfort heal

Calamity thus sudden and severe,

I would instruct thy tongue; but mute respect

Is all thy pow'r can give, or she receive.

Apprise the gen'ral that Psyttalia's coast

I will maintain with Medon, from the wrecks

To save our friends, our enemies destroy.

He then withdraws; Athenians he commands

Autarctus' body to remove from sight;

When her pavilion now Sandauce leaves,

Preceded by Sicinus. On the ground

She bends her aspect, not a tear she drops

To ease her swelling heart; by eunuchs led,

Her infants follow; while a troop of slaves,

With folded arms across their heaving breasts,

The sad procession close. To Medon here

Spake Artamanes: O humane! permit

Me to attend this princess, and console

At least, companion of her woes, bewail

A royal woman from Darius sprung.

Him not a moment now his friend detains;

At this affecting season he defers

Enquiry more of Meliboeus, known

Safe in Nicaea; Persia's youth departs;

The mournful train for Salamis embark.

End of the Fifth Book.

THE ATHENAID.
BOOK the SIXTH.

BRIGHT pow'r, whose presence wakens on the face

Of nature all her beauties, gilds the floods,

The crags and forests, vine-clad hills and fields,

Where Ceres, Pan, and Bacchus in thy beams

Rejoice; O Sun! thou o'er Athenian tow'rs,

The citadel and fanes in ruin huge,

Dost rising now illuminate a scene

More new, more wondrous, to thy piercing eye,

Than ever time disclos'd. Phaleron's wave

Presents three thousand barks in pendants rich;

Spectators, clust'ring like Hymettian bees,

Hang on the burden'd shrouds, the bending yards,

The reeling masts; the whole Cecropian strand,

Far as Elousis, seat of mystic rites,

Is throng'd with millions, male and female race

Of Asia and of Libya, rank'd on foot,

On horses, camels, cars. Aegaleos tall,

Half down his long declivity where spreads

A mossy level, on a throne of gold

Displays the king environ'd by his court

In oriental pomp; the hill behind,

By warriors cover'd, like some trophy huge

Ascends in varied arms and banners clad;

Below the monarch's feet th' immortal guard,

Line under line, erect their gaudy spears;

Th' arrangement, shelving downward to the beach,

Is edg'd by chosen horse. With blazing steel

Of Attic arms encircled, from the deep

Psyttalia lifts her surface to the sight,

Like Ariadne's heav'n-bespangling crown,

A wreath of stars; beyond, in dread array,

The Grecian fleet, four hundred gallies, fill

The Salaminian streights; barbarian prows

In two divisions point to either mouth

Six hundred brazen beaks of tow'r-like ships,

Unwieldy bulks; the gently-swelling soil

Of Salamis, rich island, bounds the view.

Along her silver-sanded verge array'd,

The men at arms exalt their naval spears

Of length terrific. All the tender sex,

Rank'd by Timothea, from a green ascent

Look down in beauteous order on their sires,

Their husbands, lovers, brothers, sons, prepar'd

To mount the rolling deck. The younger dames

In bridal robes are clad; the matrons sage

In solemn raiment, worn on sacred days;

But white in vesture like their maiden breasts,

Where Zephyr plays, uplifting with his breath

The loosely-waving folds, a chosen line

Of Attic graces in the front is plac'd;

From each fair head the tresses fall, entwin'd

With newly-gather'd flowrets; chaplets gay

The snowy hand sustains; the native curls,

O'ershading half, augment their pow'rful charms;

While Venus, temper'd by Minerva, fills

Their eyes with ardour, pointing ev'ry glance

To animate, not soften. From on high

Her large controlling orbs Timothea rolls,

Supassing all in stature, not unlike

In majesty of shape the wife of Jove,

Presiding o'er the empyreal fair.

Below, her consort in resplendent arms

Stands near an altar; there the victim bleeds,

The entrails burn; the fervent priest invokes

The Eleutherian pow'rs. Sicinus comes,

Sandauce follows; and in sumptuous vests,

Like infant Castor and his brother fair,

Two boys; a girl like Helen, ere she threw

Delicious poison from her fatal eyes,

But tripp'd in blameless childhood o'er the meads

Of sweet Amyclae, her maternal seat:

Nor less with beauty was Sandauce grac'd

Than Helen's mother, Leda, who enthrall'd

Th' Olympian god. A starting look the priest

Cast on the children; eager by the hand

Themistocles he grasp'd, and thus aloud:

Accept this omen! At th' auspicious sight

Of these young captives, from the off'ring burst

Unwonted light; Fate's volume is unroll'd,

Where victory is written in their blood

To Bacchus, styl'd Devourer, on this isle,

Amid surrounding gloom, a temple hoar

By time remains; to Bacchus I devote

These splendid victims; while his altar smokes,

With added force thy prow shall pierce the foe,

And conquest sit triumphant on thy mast.

So spake religious lips; the people heard,

Believing heard:—To Bacchus, Bacchus give

The splendid victims, hoarse acclaim resounds.

Myronides, Xanthippus, Cimon good,

Brave Aeschylus, each leader is unmann'd

By horror, save the cool, sagacious son

Of Neocles; the prophet he accosts:

Wise, Euphrantides, are thy holy words!

To that propitious god these children bear;

Due time apply from each Barbarian stain

To purify their limbs; attentive watch

The signal rais'd for onset; then employ

Thy pious knife to win the grace of heav'n.

The chiefs amaz'd, the priest applauding look'd.

A young, a beauteous mother at this doom

Of her dear babes is present. Not her locks

She tore, nor beat in agony her breast,

Nor shriek'd in frenzy; frozen, mute, she stands,

Like Niobe just changing into stone,

Ere yet sad moisture had a passage found

To flow, the emblem of maternal grief:

At length the rigour of her tender limbs

Dissolving, Artamanes bears away

Her fainting burden, while th' inhuman seer

To slaughter leads her infants. Ev'ry eye

On them is turn'd. Themistocles, unmark'd

By others, beck'ning draws Sicinus nigh,

In secret thus commission'd: Chuse a band

From my entrusted menials; swift o'ertake,

Like an assistant join this holy man;

Not dead, but living, shall these infant heads

Avail the Grecians. When the direful grove,

Impenetrably dark'ning, black with night,

That antiquated seat of horrid rites,

You reach, bid Euphrantides, in my name,

This impious, fruitless homicide forbear;

If he refuse, his savage zeal restrain

By force.—This said, his disencumber'd thoughts

For instant fight prepare; with matchless art

To rouse the tend'rest passions of the soul

In aid of duty, from the altar's height,

His voice persuasive, audible, and smooth,

To battle thus his countrymen inflames:

Ye pious sons of Athens, on that slope

Behold your mothers! husbands, fathers, see

Your wives and race! before such objects dear,

Such precious lives defending, you must wield

The pond'rous naval spear; ye gallant youths,

Look on those lovely maids, your destin'd brides,

Who of their pride have disarray'd the meads

To bind your temples with triumphal wreaths;

Can you do less than conquer in their sight,

Or conquer'd perish? Women ne'er deserv'd

So much from men; yet what their present claim?

That by your prowess their maternal seat

They may revisit; that Cecropia's gates

May yield them entrance to their own abodes,

There meritorious to reside in peace,

Who cheerful, who magnanimous, those homes

To hostile flames, their tender limbs resign'd

To all the hardships of this crowded spot,

For preservation of the Attic name,

Laws, rites, and manners. Do your women ask

Too much, along their native streets to move

With grateful chaplets for Minerva's shrine,

To view th' august acropolis again,

And in procession celebrate your deeds?

Ye men of Athens! shall those blooming buds

Of innocence and beauty, who disclose

Their snowy charms by chastity reserv'd

For your embraces, shall those spotless maids

Abide compulsion to Barbarian beds?

Their Attic arts and talents be debas'd

In Persian bondage? Shall Cephissian banks,

Callirhoë's fountain, and Ilissus pure,

Shall sweet Hymettus never hear again

Their graceful step rebounding from the turf,

With you companions in the choral dance,

Enamour'd youths, who court their nuptial hands?

A gen'ral paean intercepts his voice;

On ringing shields the spears in cadence beat;

While notes more soft, but, issued from such lips,

Far more inspiring, to the martial song

Unnumber'd daughters of Cecropia join.

Such interruption pleas'd the artful chief,

Who said no more. Descending, swift he caught

The favourable moment; he embark'd,

All ardent follow'd; on his deck conven'd,

Myronides, Xanthippus, Cimon bold,

Aminias, Aeschylus, he thus exhorts:

My brave associates, publish o'er the fleet,

That I have won the Asian Greeks, whom force

Not choice against us ranges, to retain

Their weapons sheath'd, unting'd with kindred blood.

Not less magnanimous, and more inflam'd,

Mardonius too ascends the stately deck

Of Ariabignes; there each leader, call'd

To hear the royal mandate, he address'd:

Behold your king, inclos'd by watchful scribes,

Unfolding volumes like the rolls of fate!

The brave, the fearful, character'd will stand

By name, by lineage there; his searching eye

Will note your actions, to dispense rewards

Of wealth and rank, or punishment and shame

Irrevocably doom. But see a spoil

Beyond the pow'r of Xerxes to bestow,

By your own prowess singly to be won,

Those beauteous women; emblems they of Greece,

Shew what a country you are come to share.

Can victory be doubtful in this cause?

Who can be slow when riches, honours, fame,

His sov'reign's smile, and beauty, are the prize?

Now lift the signal for immediate fight.

He spake applauded; in his rapid skiff

Was wafted back to Xerxes, who enthron'd

High on Aegaleos anxious sat to view

A scene which nature never yet display'd,

Nor fancy feign'd. The theatre was Greece,

Mankind spectators; equal to that stage

Themistocles, great actor! by the pow'r

Of fiction present in his teeming soul,

Blends confidence with courage, on the Greeks

Imposing firm belief in heav'nly aid.

I see, I see divine Eleusis shoot

A spiry flame auspicious tow'rds the fleet.

I see the bless'd Aeacidae; the ghosts

Of Telamon and Peleus, Ajax there,

There bright Achilles buoyant on the gale,

Stretch from Aegina their propitious hands.

I see a woman! It is Pallas! Hark!

She calls! How long, insensate men, your prows

Will you keep back, and victory suspend?

He gives the signal. With impetuous heat

Of zeal and valour, urging sails and oars,

Th' Athenians dash the waters, which disturb'd,

Combine their murmur with unnumber'd shouts;

The gallies rush along like gliding clouds,

That utter hollow thunder as they sweep

A distant ridge of hills. The crowded lines

Of Xerxes' navy, in the streights confus'd,

Through their own weight and multitude ill steer'd,

Are pierc'd by diff'rent squadrons, which their chiefs,

Each with his tribe, to dreadful onset led.

Th' unerring skill of Pallas seem'd to form,

Then guide their just arrangement. None surpass'd

The effort bold of Aeschylus; two ships

Of large construction, boast of naval Tyre,

His well-directed beak, o'erlaid with brass,

Transpierces; Attic Neptune whelms his floods

O'er either found'ring bulk. Three more, by flight

Wreck'd on Psyttalia, yield their victim crews

To Aristides; vigilant and dire

Against the ravager of Greece he stood,

Like that Hesperian dragon, wakeful guard

To Atlantēan fruit. Th' intrepid son

Of Neocles, disdaining meaner spoil

Than Asia's king-born admiral, with sails

Outspread to fresh'ning breezes, swiftly steer'd

By Ariabignes, crashing as he pass'd

The triple tire of oars; then grappling, pour'd

His fierce assailants on the splendid poop.

To this attack the gallant prince oppos'd

His royal person; three Athenians bleed

Beneath him; but Themistocles he meets.

Seed of Darius, Ariabignes falls

In Xerxes' view, by that unrivall'd chief

Whose arm, whose conduct, Destiny that day

Obey'd, while fortune steady on her wheel

Look'd smiling down. The regal flag descends,

The democratic standard is uprear'd,

Where that proud name of Eleutheria shines

In characters of silver. Xerxes feels

A thrilling horror, such as pierc'd the soul

Of pale Belshazzar, last on Ninus' throne,

When in the pleasures of his festive board

He saw the hand portentous on the wall

Of Babylon's high palace write his doom,

With great Assyria's downfal. Caria's queen

Not long continues in a distant post,

Where blood-stain'd billows on her active oars

Dash thick-adhering foam; tremendous sight

To Adimantus, who before her flies

With his dismay'd Corinthians! She suspends

Pursuit; her sov'reign's banner to redeem

Advances; furious in her passage sends

Two ships to perish in the green abyss

With all their numbers; this her sov'reign sees,

Exclaiming loud, my women fight like men,

The men like women. Fruitless yet her skill,

Her courage vain; Themistocles was there;

Cilicians, Cyprians shunn'd his tow'ring flag

On Ariabignes' mast. The efforts joint

Of gallant Troezen and Aegina broke

Th' Aegyptian line, whose chief-commanding deck

Presents a warrior to Cleander's eye,

A warrior bright in gold, for valour more

Conspicuous still than radiancy of arms.

Cleander him assails; now front to front,

Each on his grappled gunnel firm maintains

A fight still dubious, when their pointed beaks

Auxiliar Aeschylus and Cimon strike

Deep in the hostile ship, whose found'ring weight,

Swift from her grapples loosen'd by the shock,

Th' affrighted master on Psyttalia drives

A prey to Medon. Then th' Aegyptians fly,

Phoenicians, fam'd on oriental waves,

Resign the day. Myronides in chace,

Xanthippus, Cimon, bold Aminias gor'd

The shatter'd planks; the undefended decks

Ran purple. Boist'rous hurricanes, which sweep

In blasts unknown to European climes

The western world remote, had nature call'd

Their furies hither, so with wrecks and dead

Had strewn the floods, disfigur'd thus the strands.

Behold Cleander from achievements high

Bears down with all Troezene's conq'ring line

On Artemisia: yet she stops awhile,

In pious care to save the floating corse

Of Ariabignes; this perform'd, retreats;

With her last effort whelming, as she steer'd,

One Grecian more beneath devouring waves,

Retreats illustrious. So in trails of light

To night's embrace departs the golden sun,

Still in remembrance shining; none believe

His rays impair'd, none doubt his rise again

In wonted splendour to emblaze the sky.

Laconian Eurybiades engag'd

Secure of conquest; his division held

The eastern streights, where loose Pamphylians spread

A timid canvass, Hellespontine Greeks,

Ionians, Dorians, and Aeolians rear'd

Unwilling standards. A Phoenician crew,

Cast on the strand, approach th' imperial throne,

Accusing these of treachery. By chance

A bold Ionian, active in the fight,

To Xerxes true, that moment in his ken

Bears down an Attic ship.—Aloud the king:

Scribes, write the name of that Ionic chief,

His town, his lineage. Guards, surround these slaves,

Who, fugitive themselves, traduce the brave;

Cut off their heads: the order is perform'd.

A favour'd lord, expressing in his look

A sign of pity, to partake their doom

The tyrant wild commands. Argestes' heart

Admits a secret joy at Persia's foil;

He trusts that, blind by fear, th' uncertain prince

To him his wonted favour would restore,

Would crush Mardonius, author of the war,

Beneath his royal vengeance; or that chief,

By adverse fate oppress'd, his sway resign.

But as the winds or thunders never shook

Deep-rooted Aetna, nor the pregnant clouds

Discharg'd a flood extinguishing his fires,

Which inexhausted boil the surging mass

Of fumy sulphur; so this grim event

Shook not Mardonius, in whose bosom glow'd

His courage still unquench'd, despising chance

With all her band of evils. In himself

Collected, on calamity he founds

A new, heroic structure in his mind,

A plan of glory forms to conquer Greece

By his own prowess, or by death atone

For his unprosp'rous counsels. Xerxes now,

Amid the wrecks and slaughter in his sight,

Distracted vents his disappointed pride:

Have I not sever'd from the side of Thrace

Mount Athos? bridg'd the Hellespont? Go, fill

Yon sea; construct a causeway broad and firm;

As o'er a plain my army shall advance

To overwhelm th' Athenians in their isle.

He rises; back to Athens he repairs.

Sequester'd, languid, him Mardonius finds,

Deliv'ring bold this soliderly address:

Be not discourag'd, sov'reign of the world!

Not oars, not sails and timber, can decide

Thy enterprize sublime. In shifting strife,

By winds and billows govern'd, may contend

The sons of traffic; on the solid plain

The gen'rous steed and soldier; they alone

Thy glory must establish, where no swell

Of fickle floods, nor breath of casual gales,

Assist the skilful coward, and controul,

By nature's wanton but resistless might,

The brave man's arm. Unaided by her hand,

Not one of these light mariners will face

Thy regal presence at the Isthmian fence

To that small part of yet unconquer'd Greece

The land of Pelops. Seek the Spartans there;

There let the slain Leonidas revive

With all his warriors whom thy pow'r destroy'd;

A second time their gen'rous blood shall dye

The sword of Asia. Sons of those who tore

Th' Assyrian, Lydian scepters from their kings,

Thy Medes and Persians, whose triumphant arms

From distant shores of Hellespont have tam'd

Such martial nations, have thy trophies rais'd

In Athens, bold aggressor; they shall plant

Before thy sight, on fam'd Eurota's shore,

Th' imperial standard, and repair the shame

Of that uncertain flutt'ring naval flag,

The sport of winds. The monarch's look betray'd

That to expose his person was the least

Of his resolves. Mardonius pierc'd his thoughts,

And thus in manly policy pursued:

If Susa, long forlorn, at length may claim

The royal presence; if the gracious thought

Of his return inspire my sov'reign's breast

Throughout his empire to rekindle joy;

Let no dishonour on thy Persians fall,

Thy Medes; not they accomplices in flight

With vile Aegyptians, with Cilicians base,

Pamphylians, Cyprians. Let not Greece deride

A baffled effort in a gallant race

Who under Cyrus triumph'd, whom to fame

Darius led, and thou with recent wreaths,

O conqueror of Athens! hast adorn'd.

Since they are blameless, though thy will decree

Thy own return, and wisely would secure

Superfluous millions in their native homes,

Before chill winter in his barren arms

Constrain the genial earth; yet leave behind

But thirty myriads of selected bands

To my command, I pledge my head that Greece

Shall soon be Persia's vassal. Xerxes pleas'd,

Concealing yet that pleasure, artful thus:

Deliberation to thy counsel due

Shall be devoted; call the Carian queen.

She then was landed; through Cecropia's streets

A solemn bier she follow'd, where the corse

Of Ariabignes lay. Mardonius met,

And thus address'd her: Meritorious dame,

Of all the myriads whom retreat hath sav'd,

Hail! crown'd with honour! Xerxes thro' my voice

Requires thy counsel to decide on mine.

I add no more; thy wisdom, candour, faith

I trust; without a murmur will submit

To thy decision, but to thine alone.

My care shall tend that clay, among the dead

Perhaps the only glorious.—She departs.

He seeks the Magi, greeted in these words:

Receive this body, all which now remains

Of Ariabignes; let no dirge deplore

Him as unhappy; Horomazes smiles

On such a death; your lamentations vent

On human nature, humbled and debas'd

By cowards, traitors, who surviv'd this day,

Ne'er to outlive their shame. Ye vet'ran bands

Of Medes and Persians, who surround in tears

These honour'd reliques; warriors who subdued

The banks of Nile, where Hyperanthes fought,

And late with me through Macedon and Thrace

Swept like a whirlwind; change your grief to rage,

To confidence that, unresisted still,

You on the plain recov'ring what by sea

Is lost, avenging this illustrious dead,

From this enthrall'd metropolis of Greece

Shall carry devastation, sword, and flames

To Lacedaemon, now your only foe.

The native Medes and Persians at his words

Are fir'd, in strength, in courage, not unlike

Their brave commander, who in scorn beheld

Th' inferior herds of nations. Now the sun

Glows on the ocean. To his tent retires

Mardonius; sternly in his wounded soul

The late disgrace of Xerxes he revolves,

Yet soothes his anguish by enliv'ning hope

Of glory. Thus the tawny king of beasts

Who o'er Numidian wastes hath lost a day

In fruitless chace, of wonted food depriv'd,

Growls in his den; but meditates a range,

Enlarg'd and ceaseless, through unbounded woods,

To glut his empty maw. Her charge perform'd,

Before him sudden Artemisia stands.

As Cynthia steps unveil'd from sable clouds

On some benighted traveller, who beats

A path untried, but persevering firm

With undiminish'd vigour, well deserves

Her succ'ring light,—the queen in cheering smiles

Accosts the hero: I have seen the king,

Have heard thy counsel, have approv'd, confirm'd.

Thy spirit, son of Gobryas, I applaud.

Thou, not discourag'd by our foul defeat,

From this unwieldy multitude the brave

Wouldst separate, and boldly at their head

Thy life adventure. Xerxes may assume

A doubtful aspect. Counsel given by thee,

By me approv'd, Argestes may oppose

With all his malice. Only thou suppress

The fiery sparks which animate thy blood;

In patience wait; thy dictates will prevail,

Our common vengeance too that traitor feel,

Whom I saw lurking near the king's retreat.

Farewel.—She leaves him happy in her voice

Of approbation, happier in her eye,

Which spoke for his prosperity a wish;

That eye, enlight'ning her majestic face

With added lustre, from his grateful sense

Of her transcendent talents thus applied

To his behoof. His manly bosom feels,

Beyond a veneration of her worth,

Beyond a friendship to her friendship due,

Desire of her society in war,

Perhaps in peace. Participated thoughts

With her, united counsels, he esteems

A gain to both. His high-aspiring soul

Enjoys the thought, nor entertains a shade

Of jealousy or envy at her fame.

He ruminates: Observing her advice,

I shall succeed. Then starting—Earth and heaven!

Where is Masistius? Oh ungen'rous heart!

Which on the scent of its ambitious chace

Forgot that best of counsellors and guides,

Friend of my infant, youthful, manly age!

If he be lost!—Oh ominous the thought!

Masistius lost!—My fortune, hopes, and joys,

My virtues are no more!—He rushes wild

Abroad; commands a gen'ral search; himself

Down to the port precipitates his course.

The son of Gobryas and the Carian queen

Were thus remov'd. Argestes in that hour

Obtain'd access to Xerxes. Cold with fear,

By fortune tam'd, tormented still by pride,

Th' uncertain king to him their counsel told;

When thus Argestes, feigning wonder, spake:

Dost thou appoint Mardonius king in Greece?

O liberal prince! what servant in thy train

Would not confront all danger to possess

An empire, which the Hellespont alone

Will bound? Already Macedonia's lord,

Young Alexander, all the Thracian chiefs,

Like humble vassals to Mardonius bend.

Why should the king himself not conquer Greece,

Now more than half reduc'd? Complete the work

Appointed; choak the Salaminian floods;

O'erwhelm th' Athenians in their isle, and reign

Thyself supreme. The monarch starts, and wild

In look, commands Argestes to pursue

Th' impracticable toil with all the host;

Then, stretch'd along, in vain solicits rest.

End of the Sixth Book.

THE ATHENAID.
BOOK the SEVENTH.

MEANTIME while Venus from her Colian dome,

Which o'er Phaleron cast a holy shade,

Beheld the shatter'd fleet of Xerxes driv'n

To refuge there precarious; from pursuit

Recall'd, the Greeks, observant of their laws,

Applied their pious labour to collect

Their floating dead, and send with honours due

Such glorious manes to the blest abodes.

With artful assiduity remain'd

Themistocles presiding, so to court

Religion's favour. From the solemn toil,

Accomplish'd now, to Salaminian strands

He veers; the slain are landed; then his deck

Himself forsakes. As Neptune, when the winds,

His ministers of anger to o'erwhelm

The pride of daring mortals, have fulfill'd

His stern behests, and shook the vast profound,

At length composing his afflicted reign,

Serene from sated vengeance seeks the arms

Of Amphitrite, watching his return

With soft impatience in her placid grot

Amidst encircling Nereids; so the chief

To his Timothea in triumphant pace

Advances. She that day had never left

The beach; surrounded by Athenian fair,

She rushes forward to his wish'd embrace.

He stops; defil'd by slaughter, robs his heart

Of such delights, and elegantly thus:

O all-surpassing woman, do not dye

That lovely bosom in Barbarian gore;

The blood of Ariabignes, not my own,

Encrusts thy husband's cuirass. She replies:

Since not thy own, but hostile crimson stains

Thy manly chest, Timothea will partake

The honourable dye. O man divine!

Thus for the public with a public kiss

Thee I salute, thee saviour of all Greece,

Thee scourge of Asia; thus will ev'ry wife

Her husband; sisters, daughters thus infold

Their brothers, sires; their tender hands like mine,

Like mine their panting breasts, in transport bear

These glorious marks of victory. Behold

Those damsels pure, whose maidenly reserve

Forbids such rapture; they in smiles, in tears

Of gratitude and gladness, on the heads

Of gallant youths triumphal garlands place.

Laodice is nigh; she quits th' embrace

Of her Aminias, and accosts the chief:

Think'st thou, O son of Neocles, the dames

Of Athens shrink to see Barbarian blood,

Who would have spilt their own, had fortune frown'd;

Had you, our slaughter'd husbands, left your wives

No other choice than servitude or death?

Fair dame, united to the bravest chief,

In smiles he answers, fortune more benign

Preserv'd those husbands for the happiest lot,

Society with you. In holy brine

Of Neptune's flood permit them now to lave,

That love in bridal decency may greet

Athenian wives. Ye men of Athens, vote

That ev'ry youth and ev'ry maid betroth'd

To-night be wedded. This the gen'ral voice

Confirms a law. His winning words dispers'd

Th' obedient fair; each warrior in the deep

Immers'd his limbs, while Phoebe's argent wheels

Their track pursuing through unclouded skies,

Diffuse around serenity and light.

To his Timothea's mansion soon repair'd

Themistocles; Sicinus there he found,

Who earnest thus address'd him: Thrice I hail

My lord victorious; from thy servant's lips

Now hear a tale to melt the stoniest hearts

Of all but Euphrantides, yet with joy

Reward compassion—To the sable grove,

Where yew and cypress veil'd the hoary walls

Of homicidal Bacchus, swift I led

My choice companions; to the seer I told

Thy pleasure; he indignant heard, and forc'd

The victims forward to the fane abhorr'd.

I follow'd careful, still in patient hope

That he, though slow, would uncompell'd submit

To thy commanding will; we enter'd all;

Sandauce there at length her silence broke,

Whom from her infants none so fell to part.

O house of great Darius! where will end

Thy woes? How many of thy sons are fall'n!

Sad Ariana, sacrifice to love!

Thou sleep'st; thy wretched sister lives to see

Her children butcher'd—On the pavement damp

She threw her limbs, she clasp'd her lovely babes;

They shudd'ring view Sandauce in distress;

Too young to know their danger, they bewail

Their mother, not themselves. The captive youth,

Still sedulous and tender, from the spot,

Where as in shackles of despair she lay,

Essay'd in vain to raise her. Now the seer,

Who in my look determination saw,

Approach'd the loathsome idol, foul by age,

In fell presumption utt'ring thus his wrath:

These victims, Bacchus, did my voice devote

To thy neglected altar; of thy spoil

Themistocles defrauds thee; on his head

Let fall thy vengeance, not on mine, stern god!

This heard, the willing captives I remov'd

From that grim seat of terror to these walls

Of hospitality. Sicinus clos'd,

When Aristides enter'd. Hail, he said,

Well hast thou done, Themistocles! behold

Me come attendant on illustrious dead,

Whom on Psyttalia cast I bring to share

The public funeral honours.—I salute

Thee too, the son of Neocles returns;

Our noble strife to serve the public best

We both have well commenc'd. Prepare thee now

To give thy counsel on my new device

For better service still. Our climate holds

All Asia now, her princes, wealth, and arms;

I can detain her, till consuming time

By famine, sword and pestilence, exhaust

Her strength, and cover Greece with Persian graves.

Too high thy ardour mounts, replies the sage;

Forbear to think of strength'ning such a pow'r

By desperation. To the feeble brute

Necessity gives courage. Such a host

Of men and steeds innum'rous on our fields,

By nature's stimulating wants compell'd

To fight for life, might blast our budding hopes.

Ah! rather some new stratagem devise

To send the Persians back; let famine, want,

Let pestilence pursue their tedious flight,

Depriv'd of succour from their vanquish'd fleet,

Which do thou chace and bury in the waves.

Farewell! my post demands me. Since their foil,

I have observ'd the enemies employ'd

In wild attempts to fill the streight profound

Between Psyttalia and th' Athenian shore.

He gone, these thoughts Themistocles revolves:

I will adopt his counsel, safe for Greece,

Nor less for me; his banishment prolong'd

Will discontent the people, and repeal'd

Place him commander in th' Athenian camp

To rival me. Discouraging the war

By land, confining to the sea our strength,

I shall secure pre-eminence. From thought

To action turn'd, Sicinus he bespake:

Before my presence all the captives bring.

As Bacchus, not Devourer, in a smile

Of heav'nly sweetness, proffer'd soft relief

To Ariadne, when forlorn she sat,

Her fate deploring on the Naxian rock;

So gracious, so consoling were the looks

Themistocles assum'd, in soothing phrase

Accosting thus Sandauce: Thou shalt prove,

So shall thy royal house, afflicted fair!

A cordial friend in me. Sicinus, haste;

Equip the bark which eastern colours dress,

That, ere the moon forsake her lucid path,

Thou mayst transport this princess to the king,

Her infant train, and this ingenuous youth,

With my best greetings. Say, the Athenian chief,

Themistocles, these pledges of his truth

And friendship sends; them rescued I restore,

Him next will save. His Hellespontine bridge

The Greeks vindictive menace to destroy,

An enterprize of horror; this my pow'r,

My dictates singly can and shall impede,

Till he in safety hath regain'd his throne.

Sandauce answers: O thou gen'rous Greek,

To thee, to thine, may fortune ne'er be cold.

But I, partaker of imperial pomp,

In ease, in safety nurtur'd, who have deem'd

My state above the sorrows which torment

Inferior mortals, when my soul reflects

On this new lesson by misfortune taught,

Reflects how lately on a field of blood,

Young as I am, I saw my husband fall,

My children doom'd to sacrifice, myself

To endless bondage, had not heav'n achiev'd

This marvel of compassion in a foe,

I, (O forgive me!) I suspect the lot

Of all, ev'n thine. O prosp'rous, godlike man,

May Horomazes from thy head avert

Vicissitudes like mine! may envious fate

Ne'er bring Sandauce's gratitude to proof!

Thou never want the pity thou hast shewn!

She ceas'd; she wept. When Artamanes spake:

Her debt Sandauce can discharge alone

By grateful tears; but I can promise more.

In Persian thraldom lies a beauteous Greek,

Nam'd Amarantha, Delphian Timon's child;

For that bright maid's redemption I am pledg'd

To her afflicted sire. Thy goodness shower'd

On this excelling princess, shall augment

My zeal the obligation to repay

By Amarantha's freedom; till that hour

Of retribution to thy virtues comes,

We will proclaim them; nations shall admire

Themistocles, and ev'ry heart abhor

Inhuman Euphrantides. Now return'd

Sicinus; him they follow'd. On her breast

The lovely mother hush'd her female babe;

But cold with horror at remembrance deep

Of her unmatch'd calamities that day,

She feebly falter'd o'er the sandy beach;

While Artamanes led in either hand

The tripping boys. Themistocles remain'd

In these reflections, flowing from this proof

Of fortune's changes: Few in Athens long

Sustain their greatness—but to muse on ills

Before they come, both time and thought I waste;

Content at present that esteem procur'd,

By this fair Persian, in her brother's court,

May prove a gain. Timothea now approach'd;

His hand affectionate she press'd and spake:

How sudden thou my hospitable cares

Of their endearing object hast depriv'd!

In woe how graceful is that eastern dame!

How young a mother! On a widow'd bed

How early cast by fortune! Thou hast sent

Sicinus with her; ever-watchful man,

Some new contrivance thou dost bring to birth;

Thou smil'st in silence; listen then to me.

Since Aristides on this isle hath shewn

That face rever'd, when banish'd, his recal

The men of Athens, nay the women wish.

This by Aminias to th' assembled tribes,

Laodice informs me, will be mov'd;

In this expect Myronides the brave,

Xanthippus, Cimon, Aeschylus will join.—

So will thy husband, interpos'd the chief;

I will forestall them, not to others leave

Such merit with our people.—She rejoin'd:

All will applaud thee. Now, my anxious lord,

The second watch its measure hath consum'd;

The moon descends, the sprightly birds are still;

Dead sleep hath laid the soldier on his shield;

The active sailor slumbers; all forget

The hardships, rage, and tumult of the day;

All but thyself reposing. Shall that mind

Continue ranging o'er the field of thought,

In pregnancy exhaustless, till the lark

Salute the day-spring with his early song?

Till thou unresting, unrefresh'd, resume

The statesman's troubles, and the soldier's toils?

Be counsell'd; oft the thunder-bearing god

To Juno listens; thou my voice obey.

He hears; serene conducts her to repose.

As Jove on Ida, by Saturnia charm'd,

Confess'd a rapture never felt before,

While lucid dew of odours from a cloud

Of gold distill'd around him; from the turf

Beneath his feet while hyacinths upsprung,

The unctuous lotos, and the crocus gay,

To grace his secret tabernacle there

Of love celestial; so the Attic chief

To his Timothea, in her chamber pure,

With bridal honours deck'd, perfum'd with flow'rs,

Whate'er the meads of Salamis supplied,

His tender flame in winning language breath'd:

Whoe'er had whisper'd on our nuptial day

That I should view thee, in a time remote

From that sweet aera, with superior joy,

I should have held him ignorant of love.

What is the cause, Timothea, that I feel

My bosom pierc'd by transport yet unknown?

That eastern fair, deliver'd from distress,

Appearing then the fairest of her sex,

Thou dost exceed. Timothea smiling spake:

O thou artificer of sweetest wiles,

Wouldst thou seduce me into vain belief,

That I exceed Sandauce's youthful charms?

But wouldst thou know, my husband (solemn here

She modulates her accents), wouldst thou know

Why thou survey'st me with uncommon joy?

It is the conscience of a noble deed,

Of gather'd trophies never match'd before,

Creates this change. The perils of this day

Were new to Athens, to thy race, and me;

Thy sword hath rescued all, increas'd thy fame,

Thy heart exalted; with increas'd delight,

Thro' that bright medium of a happy mind,

Thou look'st on ev'ry object—sure on me

Not less than others. Artless were these words,

By nature prompted, nature's noblest fire.

They ceas'd discourse. Her loftiness of mind,

His valour, talents, policy, to love

Subside. Perhaps the first of human pairs,

Who in the bless'd Assyrian garden met,

Were not more happy in their first embrace,

Than fair Timothea and her conqu'ring lord!

A pleasing stillness on the water sleeps;

The land is hush'd; from either host proceeds

No sound, no murmur. With his precious charge

Embark'd, Sicinus gently steers along;

The dip of oars in unison awake

Without alarming silence; while the moon,

From her descending, horizontal car,

Shoots lambent silver on the humid blades

Which cleave the curling slood. On carpets soft

Sandauce's babes devoid of sorrow lie,

In sweet oblivious innocence compos'd

To smiling slumber. But the mother's breast

Admits no consolation; when they skim

Psyttalia's frith, at memory severe

Of that disast'rous isle, she sudden sinks

A lifeless image in the watchful arms

Of Artamanes, who had studied well

Her sorrows, knew each tender thought and care,

Humanity his tutor. Swift he calls

Sicinus: Friendly pilot, stay thy course;

We must not leave Autarctus in his gore

Behind, lest grief incurable reside

In this fair breast, perhaps eternal shade

In these extinguish'd eyes. Sicinus feels

A sympathizing pain, of Persian stock

Himself a branch, in Attic soil matur'd;

He stops the bark and lands. The Asian tents

Were still erect, whence Aristides comes

In steel accoutred, to salute the dawn,

Then breaking. Him Sicinus humbly greets,

Requests, obtains the body, which convey'd

On board he careful on the deck bespreads

With canvass new. Impell'd by active strokes

Of oars resum'd, the bounding vessel gains

Phaleron's haven. Artemisia there,

Whose vigilance, augmented by defeat,

Had kenn'd the bark while distant, now arrests

Her further progress; but no sooner hears

The sad intelligence Sicinus gives,

Than swift descending where Sandauce lay,

That mourning fair in friendly strains accosts:

O lift thy head, thou daughter of a king!

Our sov'reign's sister, sister to the man

My soul rever'd, to Hyperanthes good,

The flow'r of Asia's princes! In thy woes

I sharing cordial, cordially rejoice

In thy redemption. Leave this doleful keel;

Think of thy duty to approach the king;

Thy other cares entrust to me.—She said;

They row to shore. To Xerxes, then retir'd,

The queen conducts Sandauce and her train.

The princess thus to him amaz'd began:

A widow'd sister, late a wretched slave,

With these three orphans just redeem'd from death,

Sandauce greets her brother; but her tongue

Would be disloyal to obtrude her tale,

Her tedious tale of sorrows on his ear.

The preservation of her king demands

His first attention; that attention grant

To him who comes deputed by a Greek,

Thy friend, my guardian, saviour of those babes;

Oh listen! thy salvation from his lips

Receive. Fast bound by terror was the mouth

Of Xerxes.—Then Sicinus: He who ranks

Among the Greeks superior in command,

In talents, prudence, policy, and arms,

Themistocles, these pledges of his truth

And friendship sends; them rescued he restores;

Thee next will save. Thy Hellespontine bridge

The Greeks vindictive menace to destroy;

An enterprize of horror, which his pow'r,

His dictates singly can and will impede,

Till thou in safety hast regain'd thy throne.

All from his presence straight the king commands,

Save Artemisia; her in broken tones

Addresses: Queen of Caria, singly wise

Among my council, pity, not upbraid

Thy master, suff'ring by his rash neglect

Of thy sage voice unutterable pangs.

He paus'd in torture. Prudent, she replied:

Without a cause the lord of nations droops;

Mardonius well hath counsel'd thy retreat,

Who undertakes to finish, what his sword

Hath well begun thro' Macedon and Thrace,

This mighty war. Thy servant may succeed;

In whose behalf? His master's: Thou wilt reap

His fruits of glory; if Mardonius fail,

He the disgrace. Thy march commence by dawn;

Appoint the fleet's departure swift this night,

To guard with force collected and repair'd

The Hellespontine bridge; with grace accept

The proffer'd service of th' Athenian chief;

Load his returning messenger with gifts

Of royal price, and, O my gracious lord!

Fraternal kindness on Sandauce show'r.

Her gallant lord hath perish'd in thy cause,

Herself been menac'd by a barb'rous priest

To see her children sacrific'd; a doom

Themistocles withstood, and set them free.

As when a timid child perceives a cloud

Obscure the sky, and hears the thunder's peal,

He weeps, he trembles, but the cloud dispers'd,

The clamour ceasing, and the sun restor'd,

His wonted sport resumes, forgetting fear;

So chang'd the monarch. Artemisia, go,

He said; the satraps instantly convene;

Th' Athenian messenger, Argestes' son,

Again before us with Sandauce call;

Ne'er will I deviate from thy counsels more.

First to Sicinus ent'ring he began:

Say to thy sender, I accept well pleas'd

His service pass'd and proffers; thou return;

To him ten golden talents thou shalt bear.

Thee from the depths of sorrow shall the king,

Sandauce, raise; demand a present boon;

Thou canst not ask what Xerxes will refuse.

By gratitude surmounting grief inspir'd,

Mov'd to retaliate kindness in the shape

Herself had prov'd, the gen'rous suppliant thus:

In Persian thraldom is a Grecian maid

Of Delphian lineage, Amarantha nam'd;

Her I demand of Xerxes, that my hand

A captive daughter to a tender sire

May render back; from bondage free his head,

Now in Nicaea, and thus far my debt

Of gratitude discharge. In transport here,

Admiring such perfection of the heart,

Spake Artamanes: Ever live the king!

There is a captive whom the princess nam'd—

Fly thou in search of this requested slave,

Son of Argestes, interrupts the king;

Let none withold her from Sandauce's pow'r.

The female train before the cumb'rous host

Shall move by dawn for Thessaly, there join

The rest of Asia's dames behind us left

On our late march; the guard, ten thousand horse,

Thou, Artamanes, shalt command.—He said;

They all retir'd. A pensive grief o'ercasts

Sandauce, moving with her children slow,

By slaves attended, to the vacant tent

Autarctus late possess'd. Argestes' son

Observes her anguish, penetrates her thoughts,

In guarded words then proffers this relief:

O fairest princess, whose external form

But half displays thy excellence of mind,

Wilt thou forgive thy servant, if he feels

With thee a present sorrow, which the heart

Fobids the tongue to name? Sandauce, trust

My pious service, and those thoughts compose.

She, weeping, looks assent; he speeds away,

But meets the body of Autarctus borne

By Artemisia's soldiers. She at first,

With care conceal'd, had order'd from the bark

His precious reliques; these the noble youth

With equal care delivers to that skill,

Which with Sabaean gums, and scented growths

Of bless'd Arabia, purifies the clay

Depriv'd of life, and Time's consuming breath

Repels. A regal car he next provides,

In full apparel of funereal pomp.

End of the Seventh Book.

THE ATHENAID.
BOOK the EIGHTH.

THE satraps now and leaders, at the call

Of Artemisia, were collected round

Their monarch. Seated on his throne, he spake:

Ye princes, satraps, heed our fix'd decree.

Our native Asia wants her king; by morn

To Susa we return, but leave behind

In Greece Mardonius, and a chosen host

Of thirty myriads. With command supreme,

With our imperial equipage and state,

Him we invest; to him submission pay

As to our presence. Artemisia, bear

Our sov'reign pleasure to the naval chiefs,

That all abandon, e'er the dawn return,

Phaleron's port, and hoist their sails to guard

The Hellespont. But thou, entrusted queen,

Thy own tried squadron to Spercheos bring;

Whence thou must waft to Ephesus a charge

Of high import, the children of thy king.

He ceas'd. A stranger, cas'd in steel, approach'd,

In look ferocious, limbs and shape robust,

Of stature huge; the satraps look'd amaz'd,

As were th' immortals, when, th' Olympian steep

Ascending, grim Briareus first produc'd

His mountain-bulk, and spread his hundred hands,

Auxiliary to Jove. The warrior stood,

Unbending, far as nature would permit,

His rugged brow; when, crouching to the king,

O Xerxes, live for ever, he began:

I am Euboean Demonax, the prince

Of Oreus late, who earth and water sent,

Acknowledging thy empire; from my throne

By curs'd Themistocles expell'd, I join'd

Thy shelt'ring fleet; at Salamis I fought.

An aid of troops and treasure can replace

Me thy true vassal, who will soon reduce

The granary of Athens to thy sway,

Euboea, fertile, populous, and rich.

The monarch thus: Mardonius, thou hast heard;

Begin to use thy plenitude of pow'r;

Reject or favour at thy will this pray'r.

Mardonius then: My sov'reign liege, the truth

Flows from his lips; twelve thousand of thy host,

With Mindarus commanding, and of gold

A hundred talents, would be well bestow'd

On this important Greek. The king assents;

He rises; all disperse. Mardonius now

Accosts the queen, descending to the port:

Alas! how uncontrollable the will

Of Xerxes! must thou leave me? Since the day

Of Salamis, my best belov'd of friends,

Masistius, whether by the waves devour'd,

Or slain, or captive, to my search is lost.

Foe to inaction, though compos'd and wise,

Of courage prone to perilous attempts,

He would embark; permitted by the king,

Against my warm remonstrance would partake

The naval conflict. Drooping, while I doubt

His preservation, must I further lose

Thy fellowship, auspicious, generous queen!

Yet stop, a moment listen. On the march

To Athens first, reposing in a cave,

I had a dream, perhaps a vision saw,

To me presaging glory—but success

Was wrap'd in clouded mystery. My heart

Teems with ill-boding thoughts, yet shall not faint;

At least impart thy wishes ere thou sail'st,

Thy last instructions! Fortunate thy voice,

Benign to me; repeat one parting strain!

If I successful to thy presence bring

The palms of conquest, say, accomplish'd queen,

Thou wilt accept them with a gracious hand;

If unsuccessful I the forfeit pay

Of this frail being, as becomes the brave,

Say, thou wilt praise Mardonius. Sage and grave

She answers: First, despair not to regain

The good Masistius; at the worst endure,

That common lot, the death of dearest friends,

With patience; long thy courage I have prais'd,

Now moderate the flame against a foe

Not less discreet, than disciplin'd and bold;

Nor let the gloom of superstition awe

Thy noble ardour. On the sharpest sword,

The strongest arm, on prudence, martial skill,

Not dreams and visions, looks the goddess Fame.

If Artemisia's wishes can avail,

Be sure to prosper, prosp'ring here to soar

Above the flight of Cyrus.—She departs.

Behind her, like the sinking globe of day,

She leaves a trail of radiance on his soul;

But, to protect him from returning shade,

Her light should ne'er forsake him, never set.

O'er gen'rous cares not thus Argestes broods;

Within his tent he meditates conceal'd;

By struggling pride tormented, thus he strives

To sooth her pangs: I see my pow'r eclips'd;

Mardonius governs. Pow'r, thou fleeting gleam,

Thee I possess no longer; why regret,

When Amarantha's beauty can exchange

Thy thorns for lilies? To my own domain

I will transport her; Sipylus hath flow'rs

To drop perfumes in Amarantha's walk;

Pactolus, Hermus, my subjected streams,

Shall furnish gold; her gems shall India send

To deck that form, and I in pleasure's folds

Forget ambition, stranger to the peace

Which honour yields. Libidinous in thought,

The statesman thus would cheat his baffled pride;

Accurs'd of men! who borrow'd from one vice

His med'cine for another (both deform

His ravag'd bosom in alternate strife)

Flagitious parent! rivalling in love

His eldest born! prepost'rous passion, big

With horror! while the youngest, lov'd by all,

By Xerxes favour'd, to Mardonius dear,

He held in detestation for his worth,

Nor knew the comfort of a virtuous child.

With diff'rent thoughts that sleepless youth employ'd

The night, serenely happy in the charge

Humanity impos'd. Before the dawn

His band is arm'd, Sandauce in her car,

Among innumerable fair the chief

In state and woe. Tears trickle at the sight

Of great Autarctus in his fun'ral pomp

Down ev'ry cheek; a solemn sadness reigns;

So oft Aurora, sable-suited, leads

A train of clouds, dissolving as they pass

In silent show'rs. Through Attica's waste fields,

Through half Boeotia, ere his ev'ning clos'd,

The second sun conducts them to the gates

Of antient Thebes. They enter; they ascend

The citadel; they find commanding there,

New from the ruins of unpeopled towns,

Fierce Mithridates. With a kind embrace,

To him the gentle Artamanes thus:

Hail! brother: twice a captive since we last

At Delphi parted, I would gladly know

Thy fortune. Tell me, where that beauteous maid,

Whom thou didst carry from the Delphian walls?

The grim Barbarian spoiler, quick reply'd:

Curs'd be her name, her beauty, which could melt

A heart like mine! Accurs'd my father's lust,

Which seiz'd my captive! Guarded by a troop

Of jealous eunuchs, and attendants arm'd,

Her in this citadel he still detains.

If I refign her, may Plataea's tow'rs,

May Thespia's hostile walls by me o'erthrown,

A second time to brave me rise from dust.

Oh! unbecoming strife, the brother cry'd,

Which startles nature! Thanks to Heav'n, the king

Hath now decided Amarantha's fate;

Her to his royal sister he hath giv'n,

A promis'd boon. Sandauce, by the foe

Restor'd to freedom, will requite that grace,

By rend'ring up this damsel to her sire,

Himself a pris'ner in Nicaea's fort,

Then both release from bondage. Further know,

In Thebes to morrow Xerxes will appear

On his retreat to Susa. I conduct

This train of eastern dames. By rising dawn

To her protection will the princess take

The Delphian maiden, then proceed. These words

Sting Mithridates; an atrocious deed

He meditates, but artful thus conceals:

Not to my father, to the king I yield.

This said, they parted. Mithridates held

The town; his brother's squadrons lay encamp'd

Without the walls. The citadel contain'd

A fane of Juno, there Sandauce rests.

To Oedipus devoted was a dome,

Which Artamanes enter'd, while his heart

Ran cold and shudder'd at a brother fell,

And treach'rous sire, competitors in love;

Abominable strife! His eyes he cast

O'er all the structure, lighted by the gleams

Of tapers blue attending; he surveys,

Insculptur'd round, the horrors which befel

The house of Laius; there th' ill-fated son

His father slays; incestuous there ascends

His mother's chamber; daughters he begets,

His sisters, sons his brothers; blameless he,

A man of virtues by despair oppress'd,

Rends forth his eyeballs, on the pavement dash'd.

There sev'n dire captains, leagu'd by horrid oaths

Which startled Heav'n, are figur'd; down to Hell

Amphiarāus on his martial car,

Through earth's dividing entrails, there descends;

Here Capaneus, blaspheming Jove, expires

Amid vindictive lightnings; mangled there,

Eteocles and Polynices fall,

Each other's victim to fraternal hate.

Full of these hideous images the youth

Reclines disturb'd, unvisited by sleep,

Till awful midnight; broken slumber, adds

To his disquiet. In a thrilling dream

The eyeless ghost of Oedipus ascends;

The vacant sockets, where the orbs of sight

Once beam'd, are bleeding fresh; a Stygian pall

Infolds the wither'd, pale, sepulchral form;

The arms are stretch'd abroad: Forever Thebes

Must thou to horror be the guilty stage!

It said, and vanish'd. By the phantom wak'd,

Or by a sudden clash of mingling swords,

With skrieks and tumult, Artamanes rose,

Unsheath'd his sabre, grip'd his target fast,

And issued swift. Before his startled eyes

A beauteous woman, of majestic form,

In garb disorder'd, and with ringlets fall'n,

Sustains aloft a poinard newly drawn

From Mithridates' heart, who, sinking, breathes

His last beneath her feet. So Phoebe pierc'd

Orion; so the groaning earth receiv'd

His giant bulk, which insolently dar'd

Attempt that child immaculate of Jove

With violence of love. Now spake the fair:

If to defend her chastity and fame

Becomes a woman, self approv'd at least

I stand, great Timon's daughter, from a line

Heroic sprung, in holy Delphi born;

If to have slain a ruffian be a crime

Among the Persians, give me instant death,

Such as becomes my dignity and sex.

Her words, her looks, impress'd on ev'ry heart

Amaze, and tam'd the savages combin'd

With Mithridates in his impious act.

So when, majestic on the choral scene,

Her tragic pomp Melpomene displays,

In awe profound she hushes rudest minds,

While terror humbles tyrants. Gather'd round

Were numbers now; a thousand torches blaz'd;

Sandauce last, environ'd by her guard,

Approach'd alarm'd. A wounded eunuch stepp'd

Before the princess; I will cloath in truth

My voice, he said. Argestes to my care

Entrusted Amarantha; from that lord,

Solicitations, threat'nings, gifts she spurn'd,

While I admir'd: Sure virtue hath a ray

To strike the meanest eye. To-night his son

Assail'd our dwelling; with my fellow slaves,

All butcher'd, I defended long my charge,

By Mithridates from the mansion forc'd;

Her chastity the noble maid hath sav'd,

Her poniard stretch'd the ravisher in blood.

To Artamanes, weeping o'er the corse,

Sandauce then: To thy consoling words

I oft have listen'd, listen thou to mine;

Forgive the maid; illustrious is her deed

For every maid to imitate. With me,

Come Amarantha; thou art mine; not long

Shalt so continue; at Nicaea's fort

I will restore thee to a joyful sire,

And both to freedom. Morning breaks; the cars,

The troops attend; the royal dame renews

Her progress; seated at her footstool weeps,

In speechless gratitude, the Delphian fair.

By public duty Artamanes rous'd,

Not long remains. This last farewell he sighs:

Oh! early fall'n! Oh! cut from proudest hopes!

Thee, Horomazes, may a brother's tears

For him propitiate! he hath none to shed.

These silent ruins to our father shew,

Thou faithful eunuch. May he feel like me!

His steed he mounts, and rapidly o'ertakes

The squadrons, op'ning on Cadmean plains.

Now Amarantha lifts her grateful head,

Intent to speak; but, heavy on the front

Of her protectress, heavier in her breast

Sat grief, each sense devouring, and her frame

Enfeebling; which, too delicately wrought,

Endures not ev'n remembrance of distress

So new, so strange in her exalted state,

To youth untry'd by evils. She forgets

Her late benignant act, till chance directs

Her eye to Amarantha; when her heart,

Sooth'd by the conscience of a gen'rous deed,

Her faded cheeks relumines with a smile.

Then spake the prudent virgin: Persian queen,

(Sure such thou art) what marvellous event

Gave thee a knowledge of my sire, his place

Of residence, and my disastrous fate?

Sense of thy goodness, from my breast would chace

The memory of troubles, if alas!

I did not see thy countenance o'ercast.

If thou repent thee, of thy favour deem

Me undeserving, send me to abide

The punishment ordain'd by Persian laws;

But if thy sorrows are thy own, unmix'd

With my misfortunes, let assiduous zeal,

Let tenderest service of my grateful hand

Strive to relieve the burdens which oppress

My benefactress. In the captive's hand

Sandauce drops her own; in sighs replies:

O! by thy aspect of superior mold

To all I e'er beheld of regal race,

Resembling me in fortune, lend an ear;

My soul conceives a melancholy wish

That thou shouldst hear my story, I to thine

Alternate listen. Mournful converse soon

Between these fairest in their native climes

Began, continued; sev'n diurnal rounds

The sun perform'd, till intercourse of grief,

Communicated sighs, unite their minds

In tender friendship. Diff'rent yet their lots;

On Amarantha's cheek the bloom revives;

A joyful sire, perhaps a dear betroth'd,

Her fortune promis'd. In Sandauce's train

A husband follow'd on his fun'ral bier;

Her fleeting hue a sickly paleness taints,

Which Artamanes with a sad'ning eye

Observes, portent of malady. Now rose

The eighth sad morn, revealing to their sight

Nicaea's neighb'ring gate. Sandauce then

To Artamanes: Take this virtuous maid;

To her my promise, to her father thine

Fulfill; conduct her. Amarantha dear,

From thee I part, rejoicing in thy joy;

Amid thy comforts in a sire's embrace,

Or bliss more tender with a destin'd spouse,

Forget not me. Autarchus near the tomb

Of Ariana by these widow'd hands

Deposited—She stops; the weaken'd pow'rs

Of health relax, nor furnish sound to grief:

Mute too is Delphi's maid. The Persian youth,

To leave a moment in her sick'ning state

The princess, feels a struggle, but resolves

In rapid haste her mandate to obey.

Nicaea's gate he enters; Timon soon

He finds: receive thy daughter, swift he spake;

Receive thy freedom from the bounteous hand

Of Xerxes' sister; but a short farewell

My urgent cares allow; to set thee free

At thy own time I hasten to enjoin

The chief commander here. He said, and turn'd

Precipitate away, unheard, unmark'd

By Timon, who no other voice nor form

Than Amarantha's heeds. In Carian steel

Now Meliboeus from the gymnic school,

Where he was daily exercis'd in arms,

Approach'd; to him in transport Timon spake:

Behold my daughter!—Instant from the port

Appears Aronces, who proclaims the news

Of Artemisia landed. She had left

Phaleron; station'd in the Malian bay,

She waits the king's arrival, not remote

Now with his army; all advance to meet

The Carian queen; when sudden clouds of dust

The sky envelop; loud the hollow sound

Of trampling hoofs is heard. The portal pass'd

By Artamanes fac'd the southern sun;

An entrance eastward rudely is possess'd

By Caspian horsemen, in the hairy skins

Of goats all horrid; round their brawny loins

From shaggy belts keen cimeters depend;

Well-furnish'd quivers rattle on their backs.

Now fifty grim-fac'd savages dismount

To seize on Amarantha. Then his arm

New-train'd to battle Meliboeus proves;

With native strength, agility and fire,

He springs, confronts the Caspians; from the first

He lops the ruffian hand; by diff'rent wounds

Five more lie prostrate. As a vessel new,

Compact and strong, impetuous from the dock

In her first launch divides the troubled waves,

On either side recoiling, till the weight

Of reuniting waters stops her course,

And beats her lofty ribs; so valour drives

The warrior on, till rallying numbers join'd,

Arrest his progress; fearless yet he stands

A while defensive. Timon from the dead

Lifts two forsaken cimeters; both hands

His indignation arms; he sends to hell

Three miscreants gasping at his daughter's feet.

With aiding Thefeus, so Pirithous heap'd

With centaurs slain the Lapithaean hall,

When in flagitious tumult they deform'd

The nuptial banquet, and his fair espous'd

With violation menac'd. But the eye

Of Amarantha mark'd th' unequal fight;

Her poniard drawn, the only succour left,

She holds intrepid, resolute on death,

No second thraldom; when th' auspicious sight

Of Caria's queen revives her fainting hopes.

Stern Artemisia, rapid on the call

Of vigilant Aronces, now approach'd

In awful tone the Caspians: Sheath your blades,

Ye fierce in look, not courage, or this arm

(Her falchion here she waves) shall hide these streets

With your vile carrion. Despicable herd

Of rebels, led by what presumptuous fiend

Dare you invade a fortress of your king,

Ev'n in my presence, he perhaps in sight?

They hear; they pause. Inclos'd by thick'ning guards,

In multitude confiding, urg'd by lust,

Which lends a courage new, Argestes fell,

Inciting loud his ruffians to persist,

Strikes her indignant eye. What wrath, what hopes

Of just, of long-sought vengeance swell her breast!

As when the mother of a lion brood,

From wonted chace returning, sees a wolf,

Or treach'rous tiger stealing towards her den,

Who in her absence would securely prey

On her defenceless whelps, her eyeballs roll

In fire, she rushes on th' insidious foe

With fangs resistless; he contends in vain,

His chest she rends asunder, and his heart

Devours unsated; so incens'd the queen,

Begirt by Carians terrible in war,

To each Barbarian terrible who saw

Their high exploits on Salaminian waves,

Rush'd on Argestes; Meliboeus brave

March'd by her side a second, whom the god

Of arms might rank among his foremost sons.

The Caspians shrunk; by desperation bold,

The satrap spurr'd his courser on the queen,

And whirl'd a javelin shiv'ring on her shield;

She on the forehead smote the restiff horse,

Who, rearing, hurl'd his rider to the ground,

Then points her dreadful weapon tow'rds the breast

Of her detested foe, intent to pierce

The trait'rous heart. This invocation first

She solemn utters: Manes of the brave!

Whom he devoted on the Malian fields

Unpitied victims of his hate to me,

To you, my subjects, this malignant head

I immolate. Hence satrap, once the chief

In pow'r and state, in vice and falsehood chief,

Seek Rhadamanthus; tell him, while he frowns

On his tribunal, Themis to my hand

Her sword resign'd to cut thy treason short.

Her vengeance levels now the mortal blow,

When dignity restrains her. Rise, she said,

Thou criminal, unworthy by this arm

To die; preserve him, Carians, to abide

The ignominous lot, by justice doom'd

To common villains. Meliboeus, change

Thy name; I clasp thee Haliartus now,

My brother, prov'd by gallant deeds; at least

No evidence but virtue I require

For nobler union than congenial birth,

By friendship's sacred ties to call thee mine.

She scarce had finish'd, when a second troop

Of horsemen through the southern portal spread

New terror. In their front a splendid chief,

Who wears a regal circle; round he casts

A searching eye, impatient soon beholds

Bright Amarantha, where she stands beset

By Caspians, strangers to their leader's fate,

Persisting still in pertinacious strife

Against Aronces, and her manly sire;

Then swift as sulph'rous ether, when its flame

Divides a knotted oak or cleaves a tow'r,

Flies on the ruffians: Do ye lift, he cries,

Your hands profane against the destin'd queen

Of Macedon? a carnage wide he spreads

Beneath his trampling steed and pond'rous blade.

Dismounting victor, he unclasps his helm,

Her dear betroth'd to Amarantha shews

In Alexander, Macedonia's king.

Ne'er yet so comely, so endearing look'd

A lover; rescu'd from Barbarian spoil

She meets his arms, while Timon weeps in joy.

With Meliboeus, from a stage of blood,

The Carian queen approach'd, while thus the king

His servent soul was opening: Oh! my love,

My Amarantha! my affianc'd love!

I feel, but cannot paint, my sorrows past,

My present joys. The day, the appointed day

To solemnize our nuptial rites was nigh,

I left my kingdom, flew to Delphi's walls;

Thou wast not there. What horror, when I heard

Thou wast a captive! by what barb'rous hand

None could inform me; thence from march to march

I track'd the Persians; tidings of thy fate

No tongue could tell; through Attica I rang'd,

Boeotia, Phocis, Doris; Locris still

Was left to search. Disconsolate I join'd

The royal camp last ev'ning; there I heard

Of Mithridates by thy virtue slain;

At Thebes, of curs'd Argestes, who had held

Thee pris'ner there; of thy departure thence

With kind Sandauce to Nicaea's fort;

But further told, that base Argestes led

The Caspian horse forerunners of the host,

Alarm'd, my troop I gather'd, I pursu'd,

Am come to save thee, nor one hour withhold

The full protection of my nuptial hand.

Th' illustrious virgin answer'd in a figh:

O Alexander, I am thine, thou mine

By sacred vows; yet thou a foe to Greece!

Then Artemisia: Noble maid, I praise

That zeal for Greece, thy country; but forbear

At this momentous crisis to combine

Thy preservation with a public care;

Thou need'st protection both of rank and pow'r.

Few can resist the lustre of thy form,

Which, left unguarded thro' the lawless course

Of war, might light, in others less deprav'd

Than foul Argestes and his barb'rous son,

New flames to burst in violence again.

She ceases; Timon ratifies her words.

A mother's office now the queen performs

In preparation for connubial rites;

Nor old Aronces, nor th' acknowledg'd heir

Of Lygdamis are slow. With human blood

Impure, the streets are cleans'd, the slain remov'd;

Flow'rs pluck'd for chaplets, nuptial torches burn,

The altars smoke with odours, sternest hearts

Grow mild, Bellona's furies sleep forgot,

Her fifes and clarions soften to delight

The ear of Hymen; joy concludes the day.

End of the Eighth Book.

THE ATHENAID.
BOOK the NINTH.

SOFT rose the morn, and still; the azure flood

In gentle volumes, undisturb'd with tides,

But heav'd by zephyrs, glaz'd the pebbled shore;

When Caria's princess, visiting the beach

With Haliartus, and her son belov'd,

Her bosom thus disclos'd: O brother! friend

In danger tried, not yet are Asia's woes

Complete; to Greece new trophies I forbode.

Oh! soon transported o'er these hostile waves,

May Artemisia rest her wearied head

At length in peace, and thou, so late redeem'd,

With her partake the blessing! Ah! thy looks

Reject the proffer—yet some rev'rence bear

To Artemisia, some fraternal love.

How shall I plead? will haughty Greece admit

Thee to her honours, thee in humblest state,

Tho' meriting the highest, known so long?

Halicarnassus, an illustrious town,

Among her noblest citizens will rank

The son avow'd of Lygdamis. O cast

A kindred eye on this my orphan boy!

Who must become his guardian, who supply

My care, should fate precipitate my doom?

Tears down the beard of Haliartus flow'd,

Afflicted, tho' determin'd. On his hand

Leander hung; the captivating mien

Of Meliboeus had at once allur'd

The tender youth to entertain belief

In old Aronces, when he first proclaim'd

The swain true son of Lygdamis. These words

From Haliartus broke: Thy birth, thy name,

Thy virtues, queen, I rev'rence; of thy blood

Acknowledg'd, more ennobled in thy praise,

I feel my elevation; but thy ear

Approving lend. Three suns are now elaps'd

Since gen'rous Medon, by a faithful mouth,

Convey'd his promise to redeem my head,

Exchang'd for splendid captives, by his arm

In fight acquir'd; I hourly watch to hail

His peaceful mast, perhaps yon distant keel

Contains his person. To forsake this friend,

Whose kindness bless'd my former humble state,

Friend of my childhood, youth, and ripen'd years,

Would be an act, O thou of purest fame,

To plunge thy brother in the lowest depth

Of human baseness, baseness of the mind,

Thy long-lost brother, found too soon a stain

To Lygdamis and thee. Concluding here,

He eyes the vessel bounding to the port,

With branches green of olive on her head,

Her poop, and mast; the Carian sailors hail

The fair, pacific signal. On the beach

The warrior leaps, when Haliartus cries,

I see my patron! with expanded arms

Flies to embrace him. Medon stops, and speaks:

In splendid mail is Meliboeus cas'd?

Are these not Persian standards flying round?

Art thou enroll'd an enemy to Greece?

No, interpos'd the queen, behold him free,

To thee, to Greece unchang'd, in arms my gift;

He is my brother, brother to the queen

Of Caria. Medon here: Immortal pow'rs!

Do I survey the wonder of her sex,

That heroine of Asia, who alone,

While now the fate of empire balanc'd hangs,

Contributes virtue to the Persian scale?

My friend to such a sister I resign.

Ah! never, never, Haliartus cried,

Shalt thou resign me; nor th' Oïlean house

Will I forsake; in that belov'd abode

I was too happy for aspiring thoughts.

First to redeem thy Locris I devote

These arms; will perish there before thy foes,

If such my fate, if victor in thy ranks,

Hang in thy mansion my reposing shield,

There make my home. Yet often will I court

Thy welcome, princess, on the Carian shore

To worship still thy virtue, on thy son

Still pour the blessings of parental love.

The Carian queen subjoins: I must approve,

To such clear honour yield; bring Timon, call

The king; Time presses, we must all depart;

A sacred Delphian too from bondage freed

Thou shalt receive, O Medon. Swift the chief

To disembark his captives gave command;

Five was their number; one beyond the rest

In stature tower'd, his armour was unspoil'd,

Though rich in burnish'd gold, emboss'd with gems

Of starry light; his dignity and form

The victors rev'renc'd. Medon to the queen:

These Aristides, at my efforts pleas'd,

Gave to my choice from numbers; an exchange

For Meliboeus and the Delphian priest

These I design'd; my friends thy bounty frees;

Take these unransom'd from a grateful hand.

O lib'ral man! the Carian princess here:

Thou dost produce Masistius; virtuous lord!

How will Mardonius in thy sight rejoice,

How lift his hopes! To her Masistius bow'd,

To Medon spake: O Grecian! if a thought

To die thy debtor could debase my soul,

I should deserve till death all human woes.

Demand, obtain; to Asia I am dear,

Lov'd by Mardonius, honour'd by the king,

I cannot ask what either would refuse

To him who gave me liberty and life.

Thou canst, rejoins the chief, obtain a grace

To me of precious worth, to Xerxes none;

Nor golden stores nor gems attract my eye;

I have a sister, dearer than the mines

Of Ind, or wealth of Susa, who resides

A priestess pure, on that Oetaean ridge

Which overlooks Thermopylae, her name

Melissa; there an ancient fane is plac'd,

No splendid seat oracular, enrich'd

By proud donations, but a mossy pile,

Where ev'ry Grecian hath from age to age

Ador'd the muses. Lift thy hand to swear,

Thou wilt implore of Xerxes a decree,

Irrevocable like a Median law,

Forbidding all to climb that holy crag.

To him Masistius: Not the Delian isle,

By Persians held inviolate of old,

Shall boast of safety like Melissa's hill;

For my performance, lo! I lift my hand

To Horomazes. Thou, return'd, salute

Athenian Aristides in my name;

From me, his captive in that direful hour

Of carnage round Psyttalia's bloody strand,

Say, that my thankful tongue will never cease

Extolling his beneficence and thine.

To him far more than liberty and life

I owe; in bondage precious were the hours,

With him the hours of converse, who enlarg'd,

Illum'd my heart and mind; his captive freed,

I go a wiser, and a better man.

Now with his consort Macedonia's king,

And Timon were in sight; a sad'ning look

Fair Amarantha mute on Timon fix'd,

On her the father: We must part, he said;

Alas! too many of thy father's days

Captivity hath wasted, sorrow more

Deploring thee, my child, while other Greeks,

Erecting brilliant trophies, have obtain'd

Eternal praise. Thee, Amarantha, found,

Thee wedded, happy in thy choice and mine,

I quit, my tarnish'd honours to retrieve.

She then: In him a husband I avow

Felicity unstain'd; in him ally

To Persia's tyrant I am left unbless'd.

Malignant fortune still pursues thy child;

Before me holds a consort and a sire

In adverse ranks contending. He rejoins:

I know thee, daughter, like the manliest Greek

The wrongs of Greece resenting, but thy heart

Keep in subjection to a tender spouse

Of constancy approv'd, whose house with mine,

From eldest times, by mutual tokens pass'd

In sacred hospitality is link'd.

Thy pow'r of beauty never for thyself

Employ, be all compliance; use that charm,

As kind occasion whispers, in behalf

Of Greece alone; by counsel sweetly breath'd,

Diffuse remembrance of his Grecian blood

Thro' Alexander's heart. While these converse

Apart, the keels are launch'd; now all embark;

Aboard his vessel Medon leads the son

Of Lygdamis with Timon; on her own

Imperial deck th' attentive queen dispos'd

The Macedonian with his beauteous bride,

And Persians freed by Medon, chief of these

Masistius merits her peculiar care;

Confin'd, Argestes trembles at his doom

From Xerxes' ire. Along thy rocky verge,

Thermopylae, with sails and shrouds relax'd,

Smooth glide the Carian gallies thro' a calm,

Which o'er the Malian surface sleeps unmov'd,

Unless by measur'd strokes of sounding oars,

Or foam-besilver'd prows. A royal guard,

Preceding Xerxes, through that dreaded pass

Were then advancing, not in order'd pomp,

As on his march to Athens; now behind

The regal chariot panic fear impell'd

On its encumber'd wheels disorder'd throngs,

As if Leonidas had ris'n and shook

The snaky shield of Gorgon, or his sword,

Stain'd with Psyttalian havoc, o'er their heads

The living arm of Aristides wav'd.

On sight of Oeta Carian's queen relates

To her illustrious passengers the deeds

Which signaliz'd that rock, nor leaves untold

The fate of Teribazus, nor the wound

Of Ariana, victims both to love.

Now, where Spercheos from his spumy jaws

A tribute large delivers to the bay,

They land; Mardonius, passing tow'rds a tent

Magnificent, erected for the king,

Arriv'd but newly, on his way perceives

Masistius; transport locks his tongue; he flies,

Hangs on his friend, unutterable joy

His tears alone discover. More compos'd,

Though not less cordial, with a close embrace,

First spake the late redeem'd: Receive thy friend,

Whom wreck'd and captive on Psyttalia's isle,

An Attic leader, Aristides nam'd,

Restores unspoil'd, unransom'd, undisgrac'd!

Mardonius quick: Thy unexpected sight,

By an Athenian all unsought restor'd,

Presages all the good my warmest hopes

Could e'er suggest; the omen I enjoy;

For this shall Athens, to my friendship won,

Possess her laws, her freedom, with increase

Of rich dominion. Artemisia then:

Behold, the king of Macedon, his wife

In Amarantha. Wond'ring at her form,

Exclaims the Persian hero; of one crime

I now acquit Argestes and his son;

What ice of virtue could resist that face!

Again the queen: For other crimes my ship

Detains Argestes; him before the king

To charge, immediate audience we demand.

Mardonius guides them to the royal tent.

With half his chiefs the monarch anxious sat,

His swift departure by the break of dawn

Arranging. Amarantha, in her shape

A deity, among them sudden spreads

A blaze of beauty, like the sun at noon

In dazzling state amidst an ether blue

Of torrid climates: admiration loud

Wounds her offended ear. She thus began:

What you admire, ye Persians, O that Heav'n

Had ne'er conferr'd! the cause of woe to me,

Of guilt in others; then a maiden hand

Had ne'er been dipp'd in slaughter, nor these eyes

Survey'd the pavement of Nicaea strewn

With subjects made rebellious by my fate,

Thy subjects, monarch. With a Caspian troop

Argestes forc'd thy castle me to seize,

Th' affianc'd bride of Macedonia's king,

Me, to Sandauce giv'n a royal boon,

Me, then in freedom by the gracious will

Of thy imperial sister. Help, unhop'd

From Artemisia, from my husband came;

Me they preserv'd, Argestes pris'ner bring

To undergo thy justice. Caria's queen

With Macedon's indignant prince confirm

This accusation. On his own retreat

Secure to Susa Xerxes all intent,

Turns to Mardonius: thou be judge, he said;

Take to thyself the forfeits of this crime.

The king commands his servant shall be judge,

Mardonius answer'd; chief among my foes

Hath been Argestes, therefore must not die

By my decree. Let Cyra, fort remote

On Iaxartes hide his banish'd head;

That care to Artemisia I commit;

His satrapy, his treasure and domain

To Artamanes his remaining son,

Thy meritorious vassal, I ordain.

This judgment pass'd, a murmur nigh the tent,

Denouncing an ambassador, is heard;

Ambassador of Sparta. Soon appears

The manly frame of Aemnestus bold,

Surpassing all his countrymen in arms,

An Ephorus in office, function high;

Whose jealous vigilance imprison'd kings

Unjust, or impious, or assuming pow'r

Unwarranted by laws. No train attends;

He asks for Xerxes, when Mardonius stern:

Before the future sov'reign of the world,

With princes round him, single dost thou bring

An embassy from Sparta? Spartans hold

One man with one sufficient in discourse,

Cry'd Aemnestus. Xerxes interpos'd:

Reveal thy errand, stranger: He reply'd.

Admonish'd by an oracle, the state

Of Lacedaemon, and the race divine

There dwelling, sprung from Hercules, demand

Of thee atonement for a slaughter'd king,

Leonidas, whom multitude oppress'd,

While he defended Greece; whate'er thou giv'st

I will accept. The monarch to his cheek

A shew of laughter calls; awhile is mute;

Then, breaking silence, to Mardonius points.

They shall receive th' atonement they deserve

From him: Thou hear'st, Mardonius. Then, with looks

Of scorn and menace: Yes, the Spartan said,

Thee I accept my victim to appease

Leonidas; disdainful then his foot

He turns away, nor fears th' unnumber'd guard.

Meantime the royal progeny is brought

To Artemisia; urgent time requires,

Their Father's fears the embarkation press

For Ephesus that night. Them down the beach

Mardonius follows, and the Carian queen

In secret thus addresses: Didst thou mark

That Spartan's threat'ning words and haughty mien?

An oracle suggested this demand,

Strange and mysterious. On the martial field

Him I can single from Laconian ranks,

Audacious challenger! but something more

Behind the veil of destiny may lurk

Unseen by me. Mardonius, she replied;

Look only where no mystery can lurk,

On ev'ry manly duty; nothing dark

O'ershades the track of virtue; plain her path;

But superstition chosen for a guide,

Misleads the best and wisest. Think no more

Of this, an object like that passing cloud

Before the moon, who shortly will unfold

Her wonted brightness. Prudent thy design

To gain th' Athenians; to that noble race

Be large in proffers, in performance true;

Purchase but their neutrality, thy sword

Will, in despight of oracles, reduce

The rest of Greece. This utter'd, she embarks.

He seeks his tent, and finds Masistius there,

Whose honour, mindful of a promise pledg'd,

Requests protection for Melissa's fane.

Him in his arms the son of Gobrias clasp'd,

Thus fervent answ'ring: Xerxes will renew

His rapid march to-morrow; pow'r supreme

He leaves with me, which instant shall be urg'd

To render firm the promise of my friend.

Now lend thy counsel on the copious roll

Of Asia's host; assist me to select

The thirty myriads giv'n to my command.

They sat till dayspring; then the camp is mov'd;

Then Amarantha, from her husband's tent

Ascends a car, and traverses the vale,

By fluent crystal of Spercheos lav'd,

To join Sandauce. On her way she meets

Artuchus, guardian of the Persian fair;

The satrap gazes, courtesy entranc'd

Forgets awhile her function. Thus, at length,

He greets the queen: Fair stranger, who dost rise

A second dayspring to th' astonish'd eye,

Accept my service; whither tends thy course?

Whom dost thou seek? and gracious tell thy name.

In rosy blushes, like Aurora still,

She graceful thus: Of Macedonia's king

I am th' espous'd; my patroness I seek,

Sandauce, issue of th' imperial house.

Artuchus answer'd: Yesternoon beheld

Her languid steps approach this vale of woe.

Thou, beauteous princess, to Sandauce known,

Thou must have heard of Ariana's fate;

Sandauce now is mourning at her tomb,

A grave preparing for Autarctus slain.

Mayst thou suspend despair! Not distant flows

The fount of sorrow, so we styl'd the place,

Frequented oft by Ariana's grief;

There oft her head disconsolate she hung

To feed incessant anguish, ne'er disclos'd

Unless in sighing whispers to the stream;

Her last abode is there. The myrtles shed

Their odours round, the virgin roses bloom;

I there have caus'd a monument to rise,

That passing strangers may her name revere,

And weep her fortune; from her early grave

May learn, how Heav'n is jealous of its boons,

Not long to flourish, where they most excel.

A marble mansion new erected nigh

Her faithful slaves inhabit; who attune

To thrilling lutes a daily fun'ral song.

He leads, he stops. On gently-moving air

Sweet measures glide; this melancholy dirge,

To melting chords, by sorrow touch'd, is heard.

Cropp'd is the rose of beauty in her bud,

Bright virtue's purest mansion is defac'd;

Like Mithra's beams her silken tresses shone

In lustre gentle as a vernal morn;

Her eye reveal'd the beauties of her mind;

The slave, the captive, in her light rejoic'd.

Lament, ye daughters of Choaspes, wail,

Ye Cissian maids, your paragon is lost!

Once like the fresh-blown lily in the vale,

In Susa fair, in radiancy of bloom

Like summer glowing, till consuming love

Deform'd her graces; then her hue she chang'd

To lilies pining in decay, but kept

The smile of kindness on her wasted cheek.

Lament, ye daughters of Choaspes, wail,

Ye Cissian maids, your paragon is lost!

O ray of wisdom, eye of virtue, form'd

To spread superior light, the dazzling brand

Of love malign obscur'd thy eagle sight;

Thy vital flames are vanish'd, ours remain,

As lamps to endless mourning in thy tomb,

Till we rejoin thee in a land of bliss.

Lament, ye daughters of Choaspes, wail,

Ye Cissian maids, your paragon is lost!

The song concludes. Sandauce from a bank

Of turf uprises, resting on her slaves;

A pallid visage, and a fainting step,

She brings before the sepulchre and spake:

O Ariana! listen from thy tomb,

To me in woe thy sister, as in blood!

By diff'rent fortunes both were doom'd to waste

An early bloom in sorrow; O admit

Autarctus first a neighbour to thy clay,

Me next, who feel my vital thread unwind.

O Heav'n! my humble spirit would submit

To thy afflicting hand—but ev'ry fount

Of health is dry'd; my frame enfeebled sinks

Beneath its trial. When the inhuman priest

Condemn'd my children to his cruel knife,

The freezing sheers of fate that moment cut

My heart-strings; never have they heal'd again;

Decay'd and wither'd in the flower of life,

My strength deserts my patience: tender friends

Provide another grave.—For whom? bursts forth

Emathia's queen, and threw her clasping arms

Around the princess; whose discolour'd hue

In warm affection flushes at the sight

Of Amarantha, as a languid rose,

Shrunk by the rigour of nocturnal frosts,

A while reviving at the tepid rays

Of wintry Phoebus, glows. For me, she sigh'd,

For me, that bed of endless rest is made.

Com'st thou, neglectful of thy nuptial bliss,

To poor Sandauce's burial! soon the hour,

When of the sun these sickly eyes must take

Their last farewel, may call thy friendly hand

To close their curtains in eternal night!

These words the Grecian fair, in sorrow try'd,

In constancy unshaken, swift return'd:

Thou shalt not die, avoid this mournful spot,

Thou hast accomplish'd all thy duty here;

Let other duties, wak'ning in thy breast,

Strive with despair; transported in my arms,

To Alexander's capital resort.

Thou shalt not die; returning health, allur'd

By Amarantha's love and tender care,

Again shall bless her patroness, renew

Her youth in bloom, in vigour, ne'er to leave

Her infants doubly orphans. At their name

The princess faints, too sensitive a plant,

Which on the lightest touch contracts the leaves,

And seems to wither in the fold of death.

Her lovely weight Artuchus to his tent

Conveys; a litter gentle, as it moves,

Receives her soon; her children by her side,

In Macedonian chariots are dispos'd,

Her female slaves and eunuchs. Now appears

Emathia's prince to guard his matchless bride;

In arms complete, resembling Mars, he rules

The fiery courser. Artamanes swift

This royal mandate to Artuchus bears:

The king, O satrap, hath begun his march;

Delay not thine with all thy precious charge.

To Artamanes then, the Grecian queen:

Let me request thee in Sandauce's name

To visit yonder fount, of sorrow call'd,

There see th' unfinish'd obsequies perform'd,

To great Autarctus due. Her languid head

With me a while at Aegae will repose,

My consort's royal seat; and, gentle youth,

If justice whisper to thy feeling heart,

That well I sav'd my innocence and fame,

Thou wilt be welcome to the Aegaean hall.

This said, she mounts her chariot; not unpleas'd,

He to accomplish her command proceeds.

Artuchus now conducts the female train,

Unhappy victims of ambition! These,

A prey to famine, to congealing blasts

From cold Olympus, from Bisaltio hills,

And Rhodope, snow-vested, were condemn'd,

With that innumerable host in flight

Unform'd, unfurnish'd, scatter'd, to partake

Of miseries surpassing nature's help.

On earth's unwholsome lap their tender limbs

To couch, to feed on grass, on bitter leaves,

On noisome bark of trees, and swell the scene

Between Spercheos and the distant shores

Of Hellespontine Sestos: real scene

Of death, beyond the massacre denounc'd

By that stern angel in the prophet's dream,

When were assembled ev'ry fowl of prey

From all the regions of the peopled air,

At Heav'ns dread call, to banquet on the flesh

Of princes, captains, and of mighty men.

End of the Eighth Book.

THE ATHENAID.
BOOK the TENTH.

NOW is the season, when Vertumnus leads

Pomona's glowing charms through ripen'd groves

Of ruddy fruitage; now the loaden vine

Invites the gath'ring hand, which treasures joy

For hoary winter in his turn to smile.

An eastern course before autumnal gales

To Ephesus the Carian gallies bend;

While Medon coasts by Locris, and deplores

Her state of thraldom. Thrice Aurora shews

Her placid face; devourer of mankind,

The sea, curls lightly in fallacious calms;

To Medon then the wary master thus:

My chief, the dang'rous equinox is near

Whose stormy breath each prudent sailor shuns,

Secure in harbour; turbulent these streights

Between Euboea and the Locrian shore;

Fate lurks in eddies, threatens from the rocks;

The continent is hostile; we must stretch

Across the passage to Euboea's isle,

There wait in safety till the season rude

Its wonted violence hath spent. The chief

Replies: An island, Atalanté nam'd,

Possess'd by Locrians, rises in thy view;

There first thy shelter seek; perhaps the foe

Hath left that fragment of my native state

Yet undestroy'd. Th' obedient rudder guides,

The oars impel the well directed keel

Safe through an inlet op'ning to a cove

Fenc'd round by rising land. At once the sight,

Caught by a lucid aperture of rock,

Strays up the island; whence a living stream,

Profuse and swift beneath a native arch,

Repels encumb'ring sands. A slender skiff,

Launch'd from the ship, pervades the sounding vault;

With his companions Medon bounds ashore,

Addressing Timon: Delphian guest, these steps,

Rude hewn, attain the summit of this rock;

Thence o'er the island may our wary ken,

By some sure sign, discover if we tread

A friendly soil, or hostile. They ascend.

The topmost peak was chisell'd to display

Marine Palaemon, colossean form,

In art not specious. Melicertes once,

Him Ino, flying from th' infuriate sword

Of Athamas her husband, down a cliff,

Distracted mother, with herself immers'd

In ocean's salt-abyss. Their mortal state

Neptunian pity to immortal chang'd;

From Ino she became Leucothea, chief

Among the nymphs of Tethys; he that god

Benign, presiding o'er the tranquil port,

Palaemon, yielding refuge to the toils

Of mariners sea-worn. One mighty palm

Lean'd on a rudder, high the other held

A globe of light, far shooting through the dark,

In rays auspicious to nocturnal keels

Which plough the vex'd Euripus. Fair below,

Her cap of verdure Atalanté spreads,

Small as a region, as a pasture large,

In gentle hollows vary'd, gentle swells,

All intersected by unnumber'd tufts

Of trees fruit-laden. Bord'ring on the streights,

Rich Locris, wide Boeotia, lift their woods,

Their hills by Ceres lov'd, and cities fam'd;

Here Opus, there Tanagra; Delium shews

Her proud Phoebean edifice, her port

Capacious Aulis, whence a thousand barks

With Agamemnon sail'd; a lengthen'd range

Euboea's rival opulence oppos'd,

Queen of that frith; superb the structures rise

Of Oreus, Chalcis, and the ruins vast

Of sad Erotria, by Darius crush'd.

The Locrian chief salutes the figur'd god:

Still dost thou stand, Palaemon, to proclaim

Oïlean hospitality of old,

Which carv'd thee here conspicuous, to befriend

The sailor night-perplex'd? Thou only sign

Left of Oïlean greatness! wrapp'd in woe

Is that distinguish'd house! Barbarians fill

Her inmost chambers! O propitious god!

If yet some remnant of the Locrian state

Thou dost protect on Atalanté's shore,

Before I leave her shall thy image smoke

With fattest victims! Timon quick subjoins:

I see no hostile traces; numerous hinds

Along the meadows tend their flocks and herds;

Let us, descending, and the crested helm,

The spear, and shield, committing to our train,

In peaceful guise salute a peaceful land.

They hear, approving; lightly back they speed;

Disarm'd, they follow an inviting path,

Which cuts a shelving green. In sportive laugh,

Before the threshold of a dwelling nigh,

Appear young children; quickning then his pace,

O Haliartus, Medon cries, I see

My brother's offspring! They their uncle knew,

Around him flock'd, announcing his approach

In screams of joy: Their sire, Leonteus, came.

As Leda's mortal son in Pluto's vale

Receiv'd his brother Pollux, who, from Jove

Deriv'd, immortal, left the realms of day,

And half his own divinity resign'd,

His dear-lov'd Castor to redeem from death;

So rush'd Leonteus into Medon's arms,

Thus utt'ring loud his transport: Dost thou come

To me and these a saviour! When that cloud

Of dire invasion overcast our land,

For sev'n defenceless infants what remain'd?

What for a tender mother? Instant flight

Preserv'd us; still we unmolested breathe

In Atalanté; others like ourselves

Resorted hither; barren winter soon

Will blast the scanty produce of this isle,

Pale famine waste our numbers; or, by want

Compell'd, this precious remnant of thy friends,

These rising pillars of th' Oïlean house

Must yield to Xerxes—but the gods have sent

In thee a guardian. Summon all our friends,

Elated Medon answers; ev'ry want

Shall be supply'd, their valour in return

Is all I claim. Meantime, like watchful bees

To guard th' invaded hive, from ev'ry part

The Islanders assemble; but the name

Of Medon, once divulg'd, suppresses fear,

And wond'ring gladness to his presence brings

Their numbers. He, rememb'ring such a scene

Late in Calauria, where afflicted throngs

Around his righteous friend of Athens press'd;

Now in that tender circumstance himself

Among his Locrians, conscious too of means

To mitigate their suff'rings, melts in tears

Of joy. O countrymen belov'd! he cries,

I now applaud my forecast, which secur'd

The whole Oïlean treasures; safe they lie

At Lacedaemon, whence expect relief

In full abundance on your wants to flow.

Amid his country's ruins Medon still

May bless the gods; by your auspicious aid,

Beyond my hopes discover'd, I may bring

No feeble standard to the Grecian camp,

When Athens, now triumphant o'er the waves,

With her deep phalanx in the field completes

The overthrow of Asia, and restores

Dejected Locris. So to Israel's sons,

Their little ones and wives, by deathful thirst

Amid the parching wilderness oppress'd,

Their legislator, with his lifted rod,

Consoling spake, who, Heav'n intrusted, knew

One stroke would open watry veins of rock,

And preservation from a flinty bed

Draw copious down. Leonteus lead the way,

Resum'd his brother: vers'd in arms, my youth,

My prime, are strangers to the nuptial tie;

Yet, in thy bliss delighting, I would greet

A sister, auth'ress of this blooming troop.

With all the clust'ring children at his side

He pass'd the threshold, and their mother hail'd.

Now o'er their heads the equinoctial gusts

Begin to chace the clouds; by tempests torn,

The hoarse Euripus sends a distant sound.

Twelve days are spent in sweet domestic joy;

Serenity returns. The master warns;

Departing Medon reascends the bark,

Whose rudder stems the celebrated frith,

Where twice sev'n times the sun and stars behold

Reciprocating floods. Three days are pass'd

When Sunium, Attic promontory, shades

The resting sail; Belbina thence they seek

By morn's new glance, and reach at dewy eve.

Athenian too Belbina yields a port

To night-o'ertaken sailors in their course

Between Cecropia and Troezene's walls.

A squadron there is moor'd; Cleander there,

Now ev'ry public duty well discharg'd

Dismiss'd him glorious to his native roof,

Was disembark'd. Contemplating in thought

His Ariphilia, for the day's return

He languish'd; ev'ry Nereid he invok'd

To speed his keel. Him Medon, landing, greets;

To whom Cleander: On Calauria first

We interchang'd embraces; now accept

A salutation doubly warm, O chief!

By Aristides pris'd, his second bold

In high exploits, which signalize an isle

Obscure before, Psyttalia; be my guest

This night at least: He said; they pass'd aboard

With Haliartus and the Delphian seer.

A gen'rous meal concluded, Medon spake:

Troezenian chief, now give the mind repast;

I have been absent long; when first the flight

Of Asia's host and shatter'd fleet was known,

From Salamis I hoisted sail. To hear

Of Aristides and the laurell'd son

Of Neocles, to hear of all the brave,

Whose high achievements consecrate that day,

From thy narration would delight my soul.

Cleander then began: To council call'd

By Eurybiades, the leading Greeks

A while debated, if their fleet combin'd

Should sail to break the Hellespontine bridge?

This he oppos'd; I readily had join'd

Th' Athenian people, eager by themselves

Without auxiliar Grecians, to pursue

The arrogant invader; but the tribes,

In form assembled, with dissuasive words,

Themistocles thus cool'd. I oft have seen,

Have oftner heard, that vanquish'd men, constrain'd

By desperation, have their loss repair'd

In fight renew'd. Repelling such a cloud

Of enemies from Greece, contented rest;

The pow'r of gods and heroes, not our own,

Achiev'd the deed; pursue not those who fly.

Resort to Athens; in their old abodes

Replace your women, such obsequious wives,

Such daughters; reinstate your native walls,

Rebuild your ruin'd mansions; sow your fields,

Prevent a dearth; by early spring unfurl

Your active sails, then shake the eastern shores.

He last propos'd, that exiles be recall'd.

Loud acclamations rose; the honour'd name

Of Aristides thunder'd on the beach.

O wise Athenians! Medon cordial here:

O happy man, whose happiness is plac'd

In virtuous actions! happiest now a scope

Is giv'n unbounded to thy hand and heart!

Proceed Cleander. He his tale renews:

Th' Athenians launch their gallies, all embark

With Aristides, chosen to that charge.

I set my ready canvass to perform

The last kind office, from Calauria's isle

And Troezen's walls to waft their wives and race,

Left in our trust. Meantime the diff'rent chiefs

Meet on the isthmus, summon'd to decide

Who best had serv'd the public, who might claim

The highest honours. Every leader names

Himself the first, but all concurrent own

Themistocles the second. Envy still

Prevails; without decision they disperse,

Each to his home. Themistocles incens'd,

In eager quest of honours justly due,

Withheld unjustly, not to Athens bends

His hast'ning step, but Sparta ... Medon here:

Not so would Aristides—but forgive

My interrupting voice. The youth pursues:

In Athens him I join'd, a people found,

Whom fortune never by her frown depress'd,

Nor satisfied with favour. Active all,

Laborious, cheerful, they persist in toil,

To heave the hills of ruin from their streets,

Without repining at their present loss,

Intent on future greatness, to be rais'd

On persevering fortitude: The word

Of Aristides guides. Amidst a scene

Of desolation, decency provides

The fun'ral pomp for those illustrious slain

At Salamis; th' insculptur'd tomb I saw

Preparing; they already have ordain'd

A distant day to solemnize the rites;

The mouth of Aristides they decree

To celebrate the valiant, who have died

For Athens. While Themistocles accepts

A foreign praise in Sparta, olive crowns,

A car selected from the public store,

A guard, three hundred citizens high-rank'd,

Him through their tracts are chosen to attend,

Excess of rev'rence, by that rigid state

Ne'er shewn before. To small Troezene's walls

To-morrow I return with less renown,

With less desert, perhaps to purer bliss.

My Ariphilia calls her soldier home

To give her nuptial hand. My welcome guest

You I invite; the season rude of Mars

Is clos'd; new combats will the spring supply;

Th' autumnal remnant, winter hov'ring near,

Let us possess in peace. Then Timon spake:

Young chief, I praise thee; be a husband soon,

Be soon a parent; thou wilt bear thy shield

With constancy redoubled. If defence

Of our forefathers, sleeping in their tombs,

So oft unsheaths our swords, more strongly sure

Th' endearing, living objects of our love

Must animate the gen'rous, good, and brave.

I am unworthy of that praise, in smiles

Subjoins the Locrian; but thou know'st, my friend,

I have a brother, of a copious stream

The source, he, call'd to battle, shall maintain

Oïlean fame. Cleander, I am bound

To Lacedaemon; treasure there I left,

Which, well exchang'd for nature's foodful gifts,

I would transport to Atalanté's shore,

Seat of that brother; who, Leonteus nam'd,

With brave companions there in refuge lies,

A future aid to Greece. A list'ning ear

Cleander yields, while Medon's lips unwind

The varied series of events befall'n

Himself and Timon, Amarantha fair,

The Carian queen, and Meliboeus chang'd

To Haliartus. By th' immortal gods

We will not sep'rate, fervent cries the youth;

My Ariphilia, who is wise and good,

Will entertain society like yours,

As Aethiopia, in Maeonian song,

Receives to pure and hospitable roofs

Her visitants from heav'n. Let youth advise,

Not inexperienc'd, but o'er land and sea

To early action train'd; retaining all

Your narrative heart-piercing, I perceive

Your wants, and feel impatience to befriend;

My lightest keel to Salamis shall bear

Thy orders, Timon, for the Delphian barks,

There left behind you, in Troezene's port

To join you straight. His counsel they accept.

The moon is rising, Salamis not far;

The will of Timon to his Delphian train

Is swiftly borne. The squadron next proceeds,

Passing Troezene by, whose gen'rous chief

Accompanies to shore his Locrian guest

At Cynosura. Spartan is this port,

He said; with fifty followers speed thy way;

Commit no treasure to the faithless winds;

By land return to find thy ready barks,

Well-fill'd from Troezen's stores. They part; he sails

To joyful welcome on his native shores.

When now, unveiling slowly, as she rolls,

Her brother's light the moon reflected full,

Auspicious period for connubial rites,

From Lacedaemon hast'ning, Medon gains

Troezene's ramparts; him Cleander chose

His paranymph to lead the bridal steps

Of Ariphilia. To Calauria's verge

He pass'd; beneath a nuptial chaplet gay

He wore his crisped hair; of purest white

A tunic wrapp'd his sinewy chest and loins,

A glowing mantle, new in Tyrian dye,

Fell down his shoulders. Up the shelving lawn

The high Neptunian structure he attains,

Where with her parents Ariphilia waits

Attir'd in roses like her hue, herself

As Flora fair, or Venus at her birth,

When from the ocean with unrifl'd charms

The virgin goddess sprung. Yet, far unlike

A maid sequester'd from the public eye,

She, early train'd in dignity and state,

In sanctity of manners to attract

A nation's rev'rence, to th' advancing chief

In sweet composure unreluctant yields

Her bridal hand, who down the vaulted isle,

Where echo joins the hymeneal song,

Conducts the fair; before the costly shrine,

Perfum'd with incense, and with garlands deck'd,

Presents her charms, and thus in manly pray'r:

My patron god, from Salamis I come,

One of thy naval sons, erecting there

Thy recent trophies; let me hence convey

With thy concurrent smile this precious prize,

Thy sacerdotal virgin. I return

To thee a pious votary, to her

A constant lover; on thy servants pour

Thy nuptial blessing. Yet, earth-shaking god,

Not bound in sloth thy warrior shall repose,

Nor languishing obscure in sweetest bliss

Desert thy glory. Soon as wintry storms

Thy nod controls, and vernal breezes court

The unfurling canvass, my unweary'd helm

Shall cleave thy floods, till each Barbarian coast

Acknowledge thy supremacy, and bow

To Grecian Neptune. Credulous the train,

Surrounding, in religious rapture see

The colossean image of their god

Smile on their hero, meriting the smiles

Of deities and mortals. Fortune adds

Her casual favour; on Cleander's mast

To perch, a pair of turtle doves she sends

From Neptune's temple. To his vessel crown'd

With Hymen's wreaths, bestrewn with herbs and flow'rs,

Exhaling fragrance, down the slope he guides

His Ariphilia, priestess now no more.

So Hermes, guardian of the Graces, leads

Their chief, Aglaia, o'er th' Olympian hall,

Warn'd by the muses, in preluding strains,

The dance on heav'n's bright pavement to begin,

And charm the festive gods. The flood repass'd,

They, as Troezenian institutes require,

The fane of young Hippolytus approach,

That victim pure to chastity, who left

Old Theseus childless. From the youthful heads

Of both their hair is sever'd, on his shrine

Their maiden off'ring laid. They next ascend

An awful structure, sacred to the Fates,

There grateful own that goodness which decreed

Their happy union. To the Graces last

Their vows are paid, divinities benign,

Whom Ariphilia fervent thus invokes:

O goddesses, who all its sweetness shed

On human life! whate'er is beauteous here,

Illustrious, happy, to your favour owes

Its whole endearment; wanting you, our deeds

Are cold and joyless. In my husband's eye

Preserve me lovely, not in form alone,

But that supreme of graces in my sex,

Complacency of love. She pray'd; her look

Reveal'd, that heav'n would ratify her pray'r.

Now in her father's dwelling they remain

Till dusky ev'ning. On a bridal car,

Constructed rich, the paranymph then seats

The blooming fair; one side Cleander fills,

The other Medon, she between them rides,

By torches clear preceded. Lively sounds

The ceremonial music; soon they reach

The bridegroom's mansion; there a feast receives

Unnumber'd friends; the nuptial dance and song

Are now concluded. To her fragrant couch

A joyful mother lights the blushing bride;

Cleander follows; in the chamber shut,

He leaves the guests exulting to revive

Their song to Hymen, and renew the dance.

Three days succeeding were to gymnic feats

Devoted; Medon's warlike spear obtains

A second chaplet; Haliartus won

The wrestler's prize; to hurl the massy disk

None match'd the skill of Timon, still robust,

Tho' rev'rend threads of silver had begun

To streak his locks of sable. Southern gales

Now call on Medon's laden fleet to sail,

Ere winter frowns. With Timon at his side,

And Haliartus, in this gentle phrase

His noble host and hostess fair he greets:

May ev'ry joy kind wishes can devise,

Or language utter, hospitable pair,

Be yours for ever! may a num'rous race

In virtue grow by your parental care!—

With sev'n dear pledges of connubial love

I left a brother, watching my return

In Atalanté, small, exhausted isle,

Which needs my instant succour. Gen'rous friend,

To thee I trust my treasure, thou discharge

The claim of Troezen for th' abundant stores

Which load our vessels; for a time farewell,

The vernal sun will see our love renew'd,

And swords combin'd against Mardonius bold.

He said: the lovely Ariphilia weeps;

Cleander sighs, but speeds his parting guests.

End of the Tenth Book.

Information about this book

Title statement

The Athenaid: a poem, by the author of Leonidas. [pt.1]

Glover, Richard, 1712-1785.

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ID [ota]

http://ota.ox.ac.uk/id/4812

ID [isbn10]

1106018117

ID [isbn13]

9781106018113

ID [TCP]

K078097.001

ID [BIBNO]

CW3313948008

ID [ECLL]

0674600601

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Source

— The Athenaid: a poem, by the author of Leonidas., Glover, Richard, 1712-1785.. 3v.,plate ; 12⁰. London :: printed for T. Cadell,. 1787.. [Author of Leonidas = Richard Glover.] [Edited by Mrs. Halsey.] [Reproduction of original from the British Library.] [English Short Title Catalog, ESTCT96995.] [Electronic data. Farmington Hills, Mich. : Thomson Gale, 2003. Page image (PNG). Digitized image of the microfilm version produced in Woodbridge, CT by Research Publications, 1982-2002 (later known as Primary Source Microfilm, an imprint of the Gale Group).]

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