The Athenaid: a poem, by the author of Leonidas. [pt.3]

Table of contents

- [halftitle]

- [titlepage]

- THE ATHENAID. BOOK the TWENTY-FIRST.

- THE ATHENAID. BOOK the TWENTY-SECOND.

- THE ATHENAID. BOOK the TWENTY-THIRD.

- THE ATHENAID. BOOK the TWENTY-FOURTH.

- THE ATHENAID. BOOK the TWENTY-FIFTH.

- THE ATHENAID. BOOK the TWENTY-SIXTH.

- THE ATHENAID. BOOK the TWENTY-SEVENTH.

- THE ATHENAID. BOOK the TWENTY-EIGHTH.

- THE ATHENAID. BOOK the TWENTY-NINTH.

- THE ATHENAID. BOOK the THIRTIETH.

- ERRATA.

FINIS.

THE ATHENAID, A POEM.

VOL. III.

THE ATHENAID, A POEM,

BY THE AUTHOR OF LEONIDAS.

VOL. III.

LONDON: PRINTED FOR T. CADELL, IN THE STRAND. M.DCC.LXXXVII.

THE ATHENAID.
BOOK the TWENTY-FIRST.

SEV'N days were past, when Lamachus appear'd

Before Mardonius. Mighty chief, he said,

I hasted to Themistocles, and spoke

Thy friendly words. His answer first imply'd

No more, than cold acceptance of the terms

For Mindarus. At length two hundred, prime,

Of all his num'rous captives, he releas'd;

His minister, Sicinus, in the ship,

Which landed me, detains them near the port,

Till Haliartus, and the promis'd gold

Are lodg'd on board. Themistocles himself

Was bound to Athens with his menial train,

His wife and race. We parted on the shore.

To me, repeating in a whisper'd tone

Thy proffers large, he scornful thus reply'd:

"The spoils of Asia will exceed her gifts."

Then loud thy brave defiance I pronounc'd.

He with redoubled arrogance thus brief:

"Rouse thy new master; else the plains of Thebes

"I may attain before him." Fir'd with rage

Mardonious here: If Athens do not send

By Alexander's mouth submission low,

She shall become the spoil of Asian flames,

Themistocles spectator of the blaze.

Be swift; yon Greek for Mindarus exchange;

Two hundred talents promis'd shall be paid;

These ransom'd warriors I appoint my guard;

Brave Mindarus their captain. Stern he ends;

In open fight th' Athenian to confront

Magnanimous he burns; his heated soul

Yields to delusion of that subtle chief,

Wise like the serpent gliding through a brake,

When his empoison'd jaws in silence steal

On some incautious woodman, who, on toil

Intent, exerts his brawny strength, nor deems

A foe is nigh, nor hears him, nor perceives,

Till sore the death-inflicting wound he feels.

A summons swift for embarkation flies

To Haliartus. With regret he leaves

Dear friends, but dearer his Acanthè's love,

More prevalent his constant zeal for Greece

Combine to sooth his pain. They wing his speed

To good Sicinus, who, the ransom'd train

Discharging, tow'rds Euboea steers the keel

With Persian treasure fraught. The ev'ning clos'd,

When by a hasty mandate to the son

Of Gobryas, Lamachus was call'd. The chief

In perturbation of indignant wrath

Was striding o'er the carpet, which bespread

His rich pavilion's floor. His words were these:

The Macedonian king is just arriv'd

From Athens; I have seen him. Dost thou know,

That supercilious populace hath spurn'd

My condescension, menac'd ev'n a prince,

Their host, for proff'ring kindness in my name.

Such my reward. To all th' Ionian Greeks,

The seed of Athens, I, when victor, left

Their democratic rule and laws unchang'd;

But I will cut all freedom by the roots

From man's ungrateful race. The wily Greek

Insinuating fram'd this brief reply:

Perhaps the name of Xerxes may offend

Th' Athenian tribes. Might Europe once behold

The son of Gobryas thron'd, then... Ha! proceed,

Mardonius answer'd. Lamachus again:

Doth not all Aegypt, doth not Libya's clime,

With Asia vast, afford redundant sway

To gratify one monarch? First of men,

Why may not Thrace, with Macedonia's realm,

Thessalia, Greece, whate'er thy mighty arm

Shall rend by conquest from the western world,

Become thy prize? They willing might accept

A sov'reign like Mardonius. Try their choice.

Away—Mardonius spake; and frowning bade

The Greek retire. Now left alone he mus'd,

Thus questioning his heart: Aspiring thoughts,

Do ye awaken at the coz'ning touch

Of this vile tempter? Honour, while my ear

Detests th' adviser, fortify my breast

Against th' advice—Enough—More swiftly drive,

Dull night, thy sooty wheels; come, active morn,

Then to the field, Mardonius. Conquer now;

Deliberate hereafter on the spoil.

But thou may'st perish—perish, and the gifts

Of fortune change to everlasting fame.

A sudden trumpet strikes his ear; he sees

Masistius nigh. So breaks the polar star

Through night's unrav'ling canopy of clouds

On some bewilder'd sailor to correct

His erring course. Amidst a warm embrace

Began Mardonius: O, in season come,

Thou more, than half myself! my strength decays,

My talents languish, ev'n my honour sleeps,

When thou art far. Masistius calm replies:

I have compos'd Pallene's late revolt

Through all the district; Potidaea's walls

Alone resisted; from whose small domain

O'erflow'd by tides the army I withdrew.

I come, Mardonius, not to hear a tale

Of languid talents, or of strength decay'd,

Much less of honour sleeping in thy breast,

When I am absent. Honour on a rock

Immoveable is fix'd; its solid base

The billowy passions beat in vain, nor gusts

Of fortune shake; support from none it wants,

Firm in itself. Some augury, or dream

Inexplicably dark, o'erclouds thy mind;

Resume thy native manliness, O chief,

Whose loyal faith the mightiest king entrusts

With all his pow'r and splendour, save the crown.

Prepare to pass Thermopylae, and bring

Our labours to decision. Gobryas' son

Compares the language of his spotless friend

With his own devious thoughts, and turns aside

In blushing silence; but, recover'd, sends

His mandate forth to march by rising dawn.

Not with a less commotion in his soul

From diff'rent cares Emathia's prince resorts

To Amarantha. On her beauteous neck

In conjugal affection, yet in grief

Unutterable long he hangs. Alas!

My lord, she said, though early I presag'd

Thy embassy abortive, hath it prov'd

Disastrous? Yes, her agonizing spouse

Return'd; what more disastrous, than reproach

Among the old, hereditary friends

Of my forefathers! Amarantha, lend

Attention; amply shall my tongue relate

Events impress'd too deeply on my heart.

I went to Athens; Aristides call'd

Her various tribes; the image of a god

Was he presiding. Innocent, at least

Intentionally guiltless, I began;

Good will to Athens prompted ev'ry word:

Impow'r'd by Xerxes, thus Mardonius greets

You, men of Athens. Repossess your soil,

Enlarg'd dominion from the royal hand

Ask and obtain; be govern'd by your laws;

The son of Gobryas will rebuild your fanes;

Accept the king's alliance, and be free

With added strength and splendour. Me receive,

Illustrious people, offspring of the soil

Which you inhabit. Not a guest unknown

In Athens, I, your Macedonian host,

Of warm, unchang'd affection to your state,

Salvation bring, prosperity, and peace.

Reflect, what numbers of subjected Greeks,

Some ancient foes to Athens, others friends,

But now constrain'd, with Xerxes are ally'd.

The small remainder unsubdu'd consult

Their own defence. Are Spartans in the field?

Your produce, indefatigable race,

Your new-built mansions to a second waste

Of flames, your wives, your progeny, they leave

To want and rapine. Singly can you face

Half Greece, all Asia, leagu'd against your weal?

Oh! Amarantha, frowns on ev'ry brow

Indignant lowr'd around me. Present there

Was Aëmnestus from Laconia's state;

He, who, unaw'd by Xerxes on his throne,

Strange retribution claim'd, and sternly chose

Mardonius' self the victim to appease

Leonidas. Th' Athenians he address'd:

"Invading Sardis to enlarge your sway,

"Athenians, you are authors of a war,

"Which now extends to all of Grecian blood;

"Ill would it then become you to desert

"The gen'ral cause. To servitude resign'd

"By you, a double shame the Greeks would cast

On Athens, known of old and often prov'd

"By arms and counsel to redeem and guard

"The liberty of nations. I condemn

"Like you my tardy countrymen; will bleed

"Not less for you, than Sparta. Soon, I trust,

"She will arrange her phalanx on the field;

"Else to your vengeance I devote my head.

"Meantime your wives and offspring ev'ry state

"In love will cherish. Attic ears, be shut

"To this deceiver; his condition calls

"On him to plead for tyranny; himself

"Wields a despotic scepter, petty lord

"Of feeble Macedon, and Persia's slave."

Severe and awful Aristides rose;

His manners still urbanity adorn'd:

"Ambassador of Sparta," he began,

"Us thou hast charg'd as authors of the war,

"Yet dost extol our vigour in redress

"Of injur'd states. Th' Ionians were enslav'd,

"Our own descendants; Sardis we assail'd

"To set them free; nor less our present zeal

"For all of Grecian blood, by common ties

"Of language, manners, customs, rites and laws

"To us ally'd. Can Sparta doubt our faith?

"What disingenuous, unbeseeming thought

"In her, late witness of our lib'ral proof

"Of constancy! when ev'ry clime on earth

"Was equal to Athenians, where to chuse

"Their habitation, true to Greece they stay'd

"In sight of Athens burning to attempt

"The dang'rous fight, which Spartans would have "shunn'd.

"Now from the ruins of paternal tombs,

"Of altars fall'n, and violated fanes,

"Loud vengeance calls, a voice our courage hears,

"Enlarg'd to pious fury. Spartan, know,

"If yet unknowing, of the Attic race

"Not one to treat with Xerxes will survive;

"Our wives and offspring shall encumber none;

"All we require of Sparta is to march;

"That, ere th' expected foe invades our bounds,

"The Greeks united on Boeotian plains

"May give him battle—Alexander, view

"That glorious pow'r, which rolls above our heads;

"He first his wonted orbit shall forsake,

"Ere we our virtue. Never more appear

"Before the presence of Cecropian tribes

"With embassies like this; nor, blind by zeal,

"Howe'er sincere to Athens, urge again

"What is beneath her majesty to bear.

"I should be griev'd her anger should disgrace

"A prince, distinguish'd as her host and friend;

"Meantime I pity thy dependent state."

Loud acclamations hurried from the sight

Of that assembly thy dejected spouse,

In his own thoughts dishonour'd. What a lot

Is mine! If Xerxes triumph, I become

A slave in purple; should the Greeks prevail,

Should that Euboean conqueror, the son

Of Neocles be sent th' Athenian scourge. . . .

Hear, and take comfort, interpos'd the queen.

To thee I come for counsel, sigh'd her lord;

I will repose me on thy breast, will hear

Thy voice, hereafter ever will obey;

Thy love, thy charms can sooth my present cares,

Thy wisdom ward the future. She proceeds:

That Greece will triumph, rest assur'd; no force

Of these untaught Barbarians can resist

Her policy and arms. Awhile, dear lord,

We must submit to wear the galling mask

Necessity imposes. New events

Are daily scatter'd by the restless palm

Of Fortune; some will prove propitious. Wise,

To all men gracious, Aristides serv'd

By us in season will befriend our state.

This said, her star-like beauty gilds his gloom,

While round them heav'n his midnight curtain drops.

By rising dawn th' Oetaean rocks and caves

Ring with ten thousand trumps and clarions loud.

With all his host the son of Gobryas leaves

His empty'd camp. So rushes from his den

The strong and thick-furr'd animal, who boasts

Calisto's lineage; bound in drowsy sloth

Bleak winter he exhausts; when tepid spring

His limbs releases from benumbing cold,

He reinstates his vigour, and asserts

Among Sarmatian woods his wonted sway.

The bands entire of Persians and of Medes,

The rest, selected from unnumber'd climes,

Compose the army. Forty myriads sweep

Thy pass, renown'd Thermopylae, to rush

On Grecian cities scatter'd in their view.

So by the deep Borystenes in floods

Of frothy rage, by mightier Danube's wave,

Nor less by countless congregated streams,

The Euxine swoln, through Hellespontine straits

Impels his rapid current; thence extends

Among th' Aegean isles a turbid maze.

Three days the multitude requir'd to pass

The rough defile. Masistius in the van

His sumptuous arms, and all-surpassing form

Discovers. Tiridates leads the rear

Clos'd by the troops of Macedon, whose king

Sat on a car beside his radiant queen.

Amid the center, on a milk-white steed,

Mardonius rode in armour, plated gold

Thick set with gems. Before him march'd a guard

Of giant size, from each Barbarian tribe,

For huge dimension, and terrific mien,

Preferr'd. Their captain, from his stature nam'd

Briareus, born on Rhodope, display'd

That hundred-handed Titan on his shield.

He swung around an iron-studded mace,

In length ten cubits; to his shoulders broad

The hairy spoils of hunted bears supply'd

A shaggy mantle; his uncover'd head

Was bald, except where nigh the brawny neck

Short bushy locks their crisped terrors knit.

So his own mountain through surrounding woods

Lifts to the clouds a summit bare and smooth

In frost, which glistens by no season thaw'd.

Not such is gentle Mindarus behind

In argent mail. Unceasing, on his shield

Intent, Cleora newly painted there

A living beauty, but another's prize,

He views, while hopeless passion wastes the hue

Of his fair cheek, and elegance of form.

Not less th' unrivall'd Amarantha's eyes

Had pierc'd the son of Gobryas. Instant sparks

On her appearance from Nicaea first

Had kindled warm desire, which absence cool'd,

While she in distant Macedon abode.

When winter melted at the breath of spring,

Her sight again amid th' assembling host

Reviv'd the fervour of an eastern breast

By nature prone, by wanton licence us'd,

To am'rous pleasures. Public duty still

Employ'd his hours; still smother'd was the flame,

Nor on his wishes had occasion smil'd.

Ev'n in the absence of Aemathia's prince

At Athens, friendship's unremitted care

Still in Sandaucè's chamber held the queen

Sequester'd, inaccessibly immur'd.

Beside Masistius rode a youthful page

Of eastern lineage. He in tend'rest years

Stol'n by perfidious traffickers in slaves,

By Medon purchas'd, to Melissa giv'n,

By her was nam'd Statirus, and retain'd

Among her holy servitors. This youth

On her benign protector she bestow'd.

Masistius priz'd her token of esteem

Beyond himself, and daily bounty show'r'd

On young Statirus. Near the Locrian vale

Advancing now the satrap thus began:

O! early train'd by sage Melissa's hand,

Gift of her friendship, and in merit dear,

Nine months are fled, Statirus, since I bow'd

In docile reverence, not unlike thy own,

To her instruction. All her words divine

In precept or narration, from this breast

No time can blot. I now perceive a lake,

Which holds an island she hath oft describ'd,

Where tombs are mould'ring under cypress shades;

There she hath told me, great Oïleus rests.

O father of Melissa, should my pow'r

To savage licence of invasion leave

Thy dust expos'd, my progress were but small

In virtue's track; Masistius would disgrace

Thy daughter's guidance—Fly, Statirus, post

These my attendant vassals to protect

That sacred turf; let each battalion pass

Ere ye rejoin me. Uttering this, he hears

The trumpet's evening signal to encamp.

The sun is low; not ent'ring yet the vale,

Mardonius halts, and summons to his tent

Thessalia's chieftain, faithless Greek, approv'd

The Persian's friend, with him th' unwilling prince

Of Macedon, to whom the gen'ral thus:

To march by dawn your squadrons both prepare:

Thou, Larissaean Thorax, in these tracts

My trusted guide, with swift excursion reach

The Isthmus; watch the Spartan motions there.

Thou, Alexander, sweep the furthest bounds

Of Locris, Doris, Phocis; all their youth

In arms collect; ere thirty days elapse,

I shall expect them on the plains of Thebes.

He said: The king and Thorax both retire.

The morning shines; they execute their charge;

The host proceeds. Once happy was the vale,

Where Medon's father, and his faithful swain,

Now to illustrious Haliartus chang'd,

Abode in peace. No longer is retain'd

The verdant smoothness, ridg'd by grating wheels

Of Libyan cars, uptorn by pond'rous hoofs

Of trooping steeds and camels. Not this day

Is festive, such as Sparta's king enjoy'd,

When lib'ral hospitality receiv'd

His guardian standard on the Oïlean turf.

No jocund swain now modulates his pipe

To notes of welcome; not a maiden decks

Her hair in flow'rs; mute Philomel, whose throat

Once tun'd her warble to Laconian flutes,

Amid barbarian dissonance repines.

Now in rude march th' innumerable host

Approach the fountain, whose translucent rills

In murmur lull the passenger's repose

On beds of moss, in that refreshing cell,

To rural peace constructed by the friend

Of man, Oïleus. Thither to evade

The noontide heat the son of Gobryas turns.

Briareus, captain of his giant guard,

Accosts him ent'ring: Image of the king,

A list'ning ear to me thy servant lend;

Thou goest to Thebes; far diff'rent is the track

To Delphi. Shall that receptacle proud

Of Grecian treasure, heap'd from earliest times,

Yet rest unspoil'd? An earthquake, not the arms

Of feeble Delphians, foil'd the first attempt;

Not twice Parnassus will disjoint his frame.

Let me the precious enterprize resume,

Who neither dread the mountain, nor the god.

Though not assenting, yet without reproof

Mardonius looks, postponing his reply.

Hence soon the rumour of a new attempt

Against the Pythian oracle, the seat

Of Amarantha's birth, alarms her soul.

Massistius born to virtue, and refin'd

By frequent converse with Melissa pure,

The queen consults. Her instant he conveys

Before his friend, to deprecate an act

Of sacrilege so fatal once. The cell

She enters. Like Anchises, when his flock

On Ida's mount was folded, at the sight

Of Venus, breaking on his midnight hut

In all the radiance of celestial charms,

Mardonius stands, and fixes on the queen

An eye transported. At a sign his friend

Withdrew, but waited nigh. To her the chief:

What fortune brings the fairest of her sex

To her adoring servant? She replies:

False sure the rumour which pervades thy camp.

A second time to violate the shrine

Of Phoebus once provok'd, and sorely felt,

Thou canst not mean. The eager Persian then:

Admit th' intent; thy interceding voice

Protects Apollo. Not on my request

Avoid an impious action, firm she spake;

Weigh thy own danger in offending heav'n,

By piety and mercy win its grace.

No, all the merit shall be thine, he cried;

The favour due from heav'n be all thy own.

I ask no more than Amarantha's smile

For my reward; as Phoebus is thy god,

Thou art my goddess. Let me worship thus—

He stopp'd, and seiz'd her hand with am'rous lips

To stain those lilied beauties, which surpass'd

Junonian whiteness. Virtue from her eyes

Flash'd, and with crimson indignation dy'd

Her cheeks: Retire; forget not who I am,

Stern she rebuk'd him. He, accustom'd long

To yielding beauty in the wanton East,

That torrid clime of love, a stranger he

To elegance of coyness in the sex,

Much more to chaste repulse, when ev'ry bar

But honour warm occasion hath remov'd,

These words austerely utter'd: Am I chang'd?

No more Mardonius? Is my dazzling sun

Of pow'r and splendour suddenly obscur'd?

In state degraded, for a peasant's garb

Have I exchang'd my purple? Is my prime,

My form, in all th' impurities of age

By some malignant talisman disguis'd,

At once grown loathsome? Who, and what I am,

Thou prodigy of coldness and disdain,

Remind me. Who, and what thou art, she said,

I will remind thee to confound thee more.

No characters of magic have the pow'r

To change a noble and ingenuous mind;

Thou hast thyself degraded; thou hast rent

The wreaths, which circle thy commanding brow,

And all their splendour wantonly defac'd.

Thy rank and pow'r exalted dost thou hold

From partial heav'n to violate the laws

Of men and gods? True pattern to the world

Of Persian virtues! Now to all thy pomp,

Thy steeds, thy chariots, and emblazing gems,

The gorgeous pageants of tyrannic state,

I leave thee, son of luxury and vice.

She said, and darted like a meteor swift

Away, whose aspect red presages woe

To superstition's herd. The Persian's pride

Is wounded; tapers to the cell he calls;

By them a tablet, unobserv'd before,

Attracts his gloomy eye. The words were these:

"The Spartan king a visitant was here,

"Who, by a tyrant's multitude o'erpow'r'd,

"Died for his country. Be accurst the man,

"The man impure, who violates these walls,

"Which, by Oïleus hospitably rais'd,

"Receiv'd the great Leonidas a guest.

"Oïlean Medon this inscription trac'd."

Another hangs beneath it in this strain:

"Laconian Aëmnestus rested here,

"From Asia's camp return'd. His faulchion's point

"To deities and mortals thus proclaims

"His arm to vengeance on Mardonius pledg'd,

"The king of Sparta's manes to appease."

Brave was the son of Gobryas, like the god

Of war in battle; yet a dream, an act

Of froward chance, would oft depress his mind.

He recollects with pain the challenge bold

From that severe Laconian in the tent

Of Xerxes; this to Amarantha's scorn

Succeeding, throws new darkness o'er his gloom.

Masistius ent'ring hasty thus began:

What hast thou done, Mardonius? When I led

This princess back, indignant she complain'd

Of wrong from thee. Thy countenance is griev'd.

Confus'd, Mardonius pointed to the scrolls;

Masistius read; he took the word again:

Now in the name of Horomazes, chief,

Art thou discourag'd by a Grecian vaunt,

Or by that empty oracle which claim'd

Atonement for Leonidas? Despise

Mysterious words and omens like a man.

But if thou bear'st the conscience of a deed

Unworthy, just thy sorrow; like a man

Feel due contrition, and the fault repair.

I have meant wrong, not acted, said the chief.

Greece once produc'd a Helen, who forsook

A throne and husband; what these later dames

Call honour, which without an eunuch guard

Protects their charms, in Asia is unknown.

Resentful, gall'd at first, I now admire

This lofty woman, who, like Helen bright,

Rejected me a lover, who surpass

The son of Priam. Thou art gentler far

Than I, discreet Masistius; sooth by morn

With lenient words, and costly gifts, her ire.

Call Mindarus, together let us feast;

He too is gentle, I am rough and hot,

Whom thou canst guide, Masistius, thou alone.

Soon Mindarus appears in aspect sad;

Soon is the royal equipage produc'd,

Which Xerxes gave Mardonius to sustain

His delegated state. Ye rustic pow'rs!

Ye Dryads, Oreads of th' Oïlean seat!

Ye Naiads white of lucid brooks and founts!

Had you existence other than in tales

Of fancy, how had your astonish'd eyes

At piles of gold enrich'd by orient gems

Been dimm'd with lustre? Genius of the cell.

Simplicity had fram'd to rural peace!

How hadst thou started at a Persian board?

Fair female minstrels charm the sight and ear;

Effeminating measures on their lutes

Dissolve the soul in languor, which admits

No thought but love. Their voices chance directs

To sing of Daphnè by Apollo chas'd,

Of him inflam'd at beauties in her flight

Disclos'd, him reaching with a vain embrace

Those virgin beauties, into laurel chang'd

On flowry-bank'd Orontes, Syrian stream.

Mardonius sighs at disappointed love;

Tears down the cheeks of Mindarus descend,

Recalling dear Cleora, not as dead

Recall'd, but living in another's arms.

Not so the firmness of Masistius yields;

The soft, lascivious theme his thoughts reject,

By pure affections govern'd. Yet the charm

Of harmony prevailing serves to raise

Compos'd remembrance of Melissa's lyre,

Which oft in stillness of a moon-light hour,

Amid her nymphs in symphony high-ton'd,

To moderation, equity, and faith,

To deeds heroic and humane she struck

With force divine, reproving lawless will,

Intemp'rate paffions, turpitude of mind,

And savage manners in her ethic lay.

The banquet ends, and all depart to rest.

End of the Twenty-first Book.

THE ATHENAID.
BOOK the TWENTY-SECOND.

BY morn return'd Masistius: Hear, he said,

Th' event unpleasing from thy passion sprung.

Mardonius, thy temerity hath chac'd

From Persia's camp the Macedonian queen;

I found her tent abandon'd; but her course

Conjecture cannot trace. What other style

Than of Barbarians can the Greeks afford

To us of Asia? Lo! a youthful king,

Our best ally, and my distinguish'd friend,

Exerts a distant effort in our cause,

Meantime the honour of his queen, by all

Ador'd, inviolate till now, our chief

Insults, by station her protector sole,

When I am absent. Not thyself alone

Thou hast disgrac'd, but me her guardian pledg'd

By sacred oaths to Macedonia's lord.

These words, evincing nature's purest gifts,

Deserving that society sublime

With Grecian muses, where Melissa pour'd

Her moral strain, in perturbation plunge

The hearer; when importunate, abrupt

Appears Briareus, and renews the suit

To pillage Delphi. No, in wrath replied

The clouded son of Gobryas; bring my steed;

March all to Thebes. Then humble as a child,

Who to parental castigation owns

His fault in tears, Masistius he address'd:

How bless'd the mind by Horomazes fram'd

Like thine, serene Masistius, to resist

Unruly passions! never warm desires,

Pride, or ambition, vex thy equal thoughts,

Which from their level no dejection low'rs;

Yet none surpasses thee in rank and pow'r

Among the satraps. Uncorrupted man!

O, in thyself superior to thy state,

Me, who so often sink below my own,

Befriend in this dark moment. I foresee,

I feel disaster in this harsh event.

Masistius here: Reflect, thou mighty chief,

At either gate of life, the first and last,

Yet more through all their intermediate space,

Vicissitude and hazard lurk unseen,

Supplanting wary steps. To mortal pow'r

Those dreadful ministers of jealous heav'n,

The elements, are hostile, and to low'r

The great with changing fortune oft conspire.

Her cruel sport, Mardonius, need we tempt

With our own follies? In thy arduous post

Thy hand sustains a balance, where the lives

Of nations, where an empire's fate is pois'd

From hour to hour against the common ills

Of chance and nature, which so often foil

The wifest; do not super-add the weight

Of thy own passions to the adverse scale.

I, who am ever to thy virtues just,

Will not be slow, though grieving at thy faults,

To furnish present help. Farewell; I mount

My swiftest courser to o'ertake the queen,

Whose indignation I can best compose.

Mardonius then: Adventure is a chace

Thy virtue, no idolatress of fame,

Enjoys; thy prompters are the love of right,

Care for a friend, or zeal for Persia's state,

Which render hazardous attempts thy bliss,

Sublime Masistius. Thou hast weight to awe

Mardonius, who thy enterprising hand

Laments, but never to controul assumes,

Yet feels and most regrets his own defects,

Whene'er they cause thy absence. Here they end

Discourse. Of cavalry a num'rous pow'r,

Train'd by himself, Masistius heads, and leaves

The army filing tow'rds Boeotian fields.

He bends his course to Delphi; he attains

Permessus, round the Heliconian heights

In argent mazes whisp'ring, as he flows,

To passengers along the winding way,

Which skirts the mountain, and o'erlooks the stream.

Back from the ford the satrap's courser starts

Affrighted. Lo! to crimson, as of blood,

In sudden change the late crystalline wave,

Melodious solace of the sacred nine,

Rolls horrible to view. Anon with helms,

With spears and bucklers, grating o'er the bed

Of loosen'd stone, with limbs and trunks of men,

The turbid current chafes. Masistius spurs

Through all obstruction; in his forc'd career

The clank of armour, crash of spears, and shouts

Of battle strike his ear; the vocal rocks

Augment the animating sound; he sees

A flying soldier, by his target known

A Macedonian guard, who stops, and thus:

Hail! satrap, hail! thou timely sent by heav'n,

Haste and protect the Macedonian queen.

A host of robbers, by the lawless times

Combin'd, have vanquish'd our inferior force;

Part of our mangled number choak that flood,

Part on the ground lie bleeding. At these words

Masistius rushes with his pond'rous lance

In rest; Emathia's beauteous queen in flight

Before pursuing ruffians he perceives

On her fleet courser. Thunderbolt of strength,

He hurls to earth their leader giant-siz'd,

A profligate deserter from the guard

Mardonian. Next a Phocian born, expell'd

His native residence for crimes, he flew;

The active staff is broken in the chest

Of an Arcadian, branded by his state

With infamy; the victor then unsheaths

His sabre, op'ning through the savage rout

A passage wide for death. His faithful train

Surround them; irresistible he sweeps

The traitors headlong to the flood below,

Which foams like Simois, by Pelides swoln

With Trojan dead, and struggling to discharge

Th' unwonted load in Neptune's briny waste.

The conqueror dismounts; before the queen

His gracious form presenting, in the arms

Of his sustaining friends he sudden sinks,

Oppress'd by wounds unheeded, ev'n unfelt

Amid the warmth of action. Then her veil

She rends asunder, and, lamenting, beats

Her grateful breast. The notes of sorrow, loud

Through all the concourse, dissipate his trance.

Serene these words he utters: Honour's track

Is perilous, though lovely; there to walk,

Not fearing death, nor coveting his stroke,

Though to receive it ever well prepar'd,

Has been my choice and study. But, fair queen,

Be not discourag'd at my present state,

Wounds are to me familiar, and their cures;

To Delphi lead me, or whatever place,

Thy wish prefers. Masistius comes thy guard,

So will continue, and, ere long restor'd,

Hath much for thy instruction to impart.

While these to Delphi, on his march to Thebes

Advanc'd the son of Gobryas. Soon the steps

Innumerous of men and coursers bruise

On green Cephissian meads the growth of May.

Copaeae's lake, perfum'd with orange groves,

Which rude unsated violence deforms,

The multitudes envelop; thence along

The sedgy borders of Ismenus reach

Cadmēan walls, when now the golden sun

Sev'n times had fill'd his orbit. Thebes admits

The Persian gen'ral, in these words address'd

By Leontiades: Thrice welcome, lord,

We, thy allies, our counsel to disclose

Have waited long. Not hazarding a fight,

Thou hast the means to ascertain success.

Here seated tranquil, from exhaustless stores

Distribute gold among the Grecian states;

Corrupt the pow'rful, open faction's mouth,

Divide, nor doubt to overcome that strength,

Which, link'd in union, will surmount the force

Of all mankind. The ardent Persian here:

To court th' Athenians with a lavish hand

Have I not stoop'd already? but, disdain'd,

That haughty race to destiny I leave.

Have I not bid defiance to their boast,

Themistocles? Him, forfeiting his word,

Pledg'd to confront me on Boeotian plains,

I haste to summon at his native gates.

What are the Greeks, if Athens be reduc'd?

Where are the vaunted Spartans? lock'd in fear

Behind their isthmian wall, by heav'n in fear

Of Thorax ranging with a slender band

Of his Thessalian horse. Thou rule in Thebes,

Brave Mindarus, till I from Athens tam'd

Return with fetters for the rest of Greece.

He seeks his couch, and, after short repose,

By twilight bursts like thunder from a cloud,

Which, on Olympus hov'ring black, contains

The livid store of Jove's collected wrath

Against offending mortals. O'er a land

Deserted, silent, to the empty roofs

Of Athens was the march. Mardonius climb'd

Aegaleos, thence on Salamis descry'd

That much-enduring people, who again

For liberty forsook their native homes

On his approach. His gen'rous pride relents;

He wishes such a nation were a friend;

His wishes waken in his breast an awe

At such a foe. Murichides was nigh,

A Hellespontine Grecian of his train,

Nor in his favour low; to him he spake:

Look on that haughty, but that gallant race;

Perhaps at me, by myriads thus begirt,

Their very children lift their little hands

In menaces, and cursing lisp the names

Of Xerxes and Mardonius. Mount a bark;

Pass with a herald to that crowded isle;

The senators accost; the people shun,

In pride beyond nobility; repeat

The words Aemathian Alexander us'd:

"Ye men of Athens, repossess your homes;

"Enlarg'd dominion from the royal hand

"Ask and obtain; be govern'd by your laws;

"The son of Gobryas will rebuild your fanes;

"Accept the king's alliance, and be free

"With added strength and splendour." Further say,

They little know what confidence is due

To him who sends thee. Asian Greeks, subdu'd

By me, retain their democratic rights.

On Salamis the Hellespontine lands;

Before th' Athenian senate he displays

The Persian proffer. All indignant hear

But Lycides, who thus exhorting spake:

From Athens twice expell'd, deserted twice

By Lacedaemon, who her toil employs

Still on her isthmian fence, who lifts no shield

To guard our wives and progeny, to save

From desolation our defenceless fields,

Or from our homes repel the hostile blaze,

What can we better, injur'd and betray'd,

Than listen to Mardonius? be referr'd

His terms of friendship to th' assembling tribes.

The universal senate rose in scorn

Of such submission. By the people known,

His counsel rous'd enthusiastic rage,

Nor Aristides can the tumult cool;

They stone the timid senator to death.

The women catch the spirit; fierce, as fair,

Laodice collects th' infuriate sex.

They hand in hand a dreadful circle form

Around his mansion, and his wife and race

Doom to perdition, that his coward blood

May ne'er survive in Greece. Enormous thought!

Perhaps not less than such excess of zeal

Excess of peril in that season claim'd

To save a land, which foster'd ev'ry muse;

That eloquence, philosophy and arts

Might shine in Attic purity of light

To latest ages: but a sudden fleet,

In wide array extending on the shore,

Suspends the deed. Before each wond'ring eye

Timothea lands, Sicinus at her side;

When thus the matron to th' impatient throng:

His native friends Themistocles salutes;

Euboean plenty in your present need

He sends. Returning, I this crouded isle

Will disencumber, and to safety bear

Your wives and infants; open to their wants

Eudora holds her Amarynthian seat;

Elephenor, Tisander to the shrines

Of Jove invite them, and to friendly roofs

Euboea's towns. As oft Aurora sheds

Serenity around her, when the gates

Of light first open to her fragrant step;

Hush'd at her feet lies Boreas, who had rent

The dusky pall of night, and Jove restrains

The thunder's roar, and torrents of the skies;

Such was Timothea's presence, so the storm,

By furies late excited, at her voice

Was tame. She learns the melancholy fate

Of Lycides, to her protection takes

His helpless orphans, and disastrous wife.

Now of its plenteous stores while eager hands

The num'rous fleet unlade, and Attic dames

Prepare with good Timothea to embark;

Just Aristides, first of men, conducts

That first of matrons to his joyful tent,

Where she began: O righteous like the gods,

Now hear my whole commission, and believe

Themistocles, my husband, feels thy worth.

When at his summons on Euboea's coast

I landed first, "Thrice welcome," he exclaim'd,

"From Athens hither to a safe abode.

"A second emigration I presage

"To her afflicted race." From port to port

Around Euboea's populous extent

With him convey'd, I saw her wealthy towns

To his controul subordinate. Their pow'rs

He now is gath'ring; some achievement new

He meditates, which secresy conceals

Like fate's dark roll inscrutable to all.

From thee an early notice he requests,

Soon as the Greeks, united in one camp,

The sole attention of Mardonius draw;

Th' intelligence to bring I leave behind

That faithful man, Sicinus. Virtuous dame,

Wise is thy husband, Aristides spake;

From him no other than achievements high,

However my conjecture they surpass,

I still expect. Themistocles apprise,

That I am bound for Sparta to upbraid

Pausanias proud, and summon to the field

That selfish breed so martial, yet so cold

To public welfare. Let me next prefer

To thy benignity a fervent suit.

He straight withdrew, and reappearing led

Two little damsels humble in attire.

Behold my daughters, he resum'd; admit

These to thy care; now motherless they want

Protection; ev'n Euphemia they have lost;

My venerable parent have the gods

Releas'd but newly from the growing scene

Of trouble. Athens must a parent prove

To these hereafter, fated to receive

No portion from a father, who delights

In poverty. His arms are all the wealth

Of Aristides. With a tender hand

She takes the children: O! of men, she said,

Most rich, whose wealth is virtue, in the name

Of household gods this office I accept.

O Aristides! these shall mix with mine;

These shall contribute to cement the work,

I long have wrought, the amity begun

Betwixt Themistocles and thee. In tears

Depart the infant maidens from a sire

Of gentlest nature, and in manners bland

Not less, than just. Meanwhile to Athens steers

Murichides unharm'd. The rising dawn

Sees with her precious charge Timothea sail.

Lo! from the city clouds of smoke ascend

Voluminous, with interlacing flames,

Such as Vesuvius vomits from his gulph

Sulphureous, when unquenchable the heat

Within his concave melts the surging ore

To floods of fire. Murichides had told

His fruitless embassy; Mardonius, wild

With ire, to instant conflagration doom'd

Th' abode of such inexorable foes.

They, on the margin opposite, beheld

Their ancient residence a second time

Destroy'd; nor utter'd more than just complaint

Of tardy Sparta. When Briareus dire

With his gigantic savages o'erturn'd

The recent tomb, which held the glorious slain

At Salamis; when scatter'd in the wind

They saw that dust rever'd; in solemn rage,

Devoid of sound illiberal, or loud,

Each his right hand with sanctity of oaths

Pledg'd to his neighbour, and to vengeance full

His blood devoted. Aristides look'd,

As some incens'd divinity, and spake:

Persist, ye sons of folly; crush that tomb;

The last repose of yon heroic slain

Disturb, therein exhibiting your doom

From mortals, and immortals. Thus your pride

By heav'n, and Grecian valour, shall be crush'd,

Your impious host be scatter'd like that dust

Which your barbarity profanes. Now, friends,

By your appointment I to Sparta sail;

You under watchful discipline remain

Compos'd and firm; such patience will surmount

All obstacle, Athenians; will restore

In brighter glories your paternal seats.

This said, the isle he leaves, selecting none,

But Cimon for associate. In the bark

Him Aristides placidly bespake:

Son of Miltiades the great in arms,

Thy early youth was dissolute; thy look

Ingenuous still, and frank thy tongue, reveal'd

Internal virtue; friendship on my part

Succeeded, thence a study to reclaim

Thy human frailties. I rejoice in hope,

Thou wilt hereafter prove an Attic star,

In council wise, triumphant in the field,

Humane to strangers, to thy country just,

Friend to her laws, to all her Muses kind,

Who may record thy actions. Cimon here:

If I have virtues, they proceed from thee;

If I attain to glory, I shall owe

To thee my lustre. To deserve thy praise,

What have I yet accomplish'd? I have fought

At Salamis, what more performing there

Than each Athenian? Aristides then:

True, all were brave; my judgment doth not rest

On one exploit; thy modesty o'erlooks

The signs of worth and talents, whence my hopes

Have rank'd thee first of Grecians. To acquire,

To keep that station, Cimon, be thy choice;

Thou hast the means; but this impression hold,

Who would excel, must be a moral man.

Thus they exhaust their voyage of a day,

When at Troezenè they arrive, and find

Renown'd Cleander training for the field

His native bands. To Sparta thence they sail.

The Ephori assemble, when they hear

Of Aristides, who an audience claims;

He comes before them, and austerely thus:

Cecropia's race, exterminated twice,

Demand of Sparta, whether sloth, or fear,

Or Persian gold her buckler hath unbrac'd.

Mardonius proffer'd more than equal terms,

Not friendship singly, but enlarg'd domain

To Athens, who to eleutherian Jove,

To Greece was faithful, and the lib'ral gift

Disdain'd. Your own ambassador pronounc'd

Your phalanx ready; for its speedy march

His head he pledg'd. Mardonius takes the field,

He lays th' Athenian territory waste;

Where are the Spartans? Adding work to work

For their own sep'rate safety at their wall,

Inglorious isthmian wall, while half the Greeks

Become your foes, and Athens is betray'd.

Pausanias present proudly thus replied:

Hast thou not heard, the Hyacinthian rites

Employ the Spartans? shall the heads of Greece

Be question'd, be directed when to act

By you Athenians? your inferior state

May wait our leisure. Aristides here:

Talk'st thou to me of Hyacinthian games,

While rude Barbarians riot in our fields,

While Athens burns, while sacrilege invades

Our temples, while our ancestors we see

Torn from the grave? Pausanias, thou disgrace

To thy forefather Hercules, whose arm,

To friends a bulwark, was a scourge to foes,

What hast thou said? But, guardian to the son

Of that renown'd Leonidas, who fought

Beyond the isthmus, and for Greece expir'd,

If thou retain'st no rev'rence for his blood,

If thou dost scorn Lycurgus and his laws,

If holding liberty an empty name,

Art now in treaty with a lawless king,

No more of words. Athenians have their choice

To treat with Xerxes, or to distant climes

Expand the sail, resigning to their fate

Unfaithful, timid Grecians, who have lost

All claim to succour—Yet assume your swords!

My love for Greece solicits you in tears.

Be thou, Pausanias, general of all;

We in that noble warfare will refuse

No hardship—Ev'n thy arrogant command

I like the meanest soldier will abide.

Then Aëmnestus brief: O righteous man,

I feel thy wrongs; Laconia's shame I feel,

Which if delay still blackens, thou shalt lead

Me, the due victim of Athenian wrath,

Before those injur'd tribes, by me deceiv'd;

Where my own sword shall sacrifice the blood,

I pledg'd for Sparta's faith. Meantime withdraw;

I was thy guest in Athens, thou be mine.

Not till the day-spring Aëmnestus greets

His Attic friend: Our citizens are march'd;

All night my indefatigable toil

Hath urg'd the phalanx on; the various states

Within the isthmus will obey our call;

Now speed with me, o'ertake, inspect our host.

They both depart with Cimon. Sparta's camp,

Ere Phoebus couches, Aristides gains;

The marshall'd pupils of Lycurgus there

He, ever true to equity, applauds,

Who their disgraceful sloth in council blam'd.

Subordination, silent order held

Each in his place; in look, as virgins, meek,

Sedate they listen'd to their chiefs, as youth

To learning's voice in academic schools.

Thus in some fertile garden well-manur'd,

The regularity of plants and trees

Enrich'd with produce, on a stable root

Stands permanent, by skilful care dispos'd

At first, and sedulously wateh'd. No vaunt

Offends the ear, nor supercilious frown

Of confidence the eye. Th' Athenian chief

Content returns; on Salamis receiv'd,

Cecropia's bands he marshals for the field.

The ravage still of Attica detain'd

Mardonius. Thorax of Larissa quits

His isthmian station; rapid in his course

To Gobryas' son these tidings he imparts:

The isle of Pelops musters all her pow'rs;

The isthmus swarms; forsake this rocky land

For cavalry unfit; collect thy force

To face the Grecians on Cadmēan plains.

Her sleepy sword at last has Sparta rous'd,

Replies Mardonius? On Cadmean plains

The Persian trump shall sound; Cithaeron's hill,

Asopian banks, shall soon repeat the notes

Triumphal. Swift he rushes back to Thebes,

Ere Phoebus darted his solstitial heat.

As some hot courser, who from pasture led

Replete with food and courage, spurns the ground

In confidence and pride, no sooner meets

His wonted rider, than admits the rein;

Such was Mardonius, when from Theban gates

Masistius thus address'd him: Be inform'd,

That Macedonia's sov'reign is arriv'd,

With his fair consort. Her to Delphi's walls

I guarded, there deliver'd to her lord,

Who hath conducted fifty thousand Greeks

In arms, auxiliar to thy camp. The queen,

Now at a fabric old, to Dircè built,

Close by her fountain, and beset with shade,

Dwells in retreat, which careful thou avoid.

But tell me, son of Gobryas, whither flown

Was all thy magnanimity, when flames

A second time laid stately Athens low?

Though disappointed, couldst thou deem a crime

Her constancy, refusing to betray

A common cause? Mardonius, thou dost hope

To conquer; why a city of renown,

Which in her beauty would have grac'd our sway,

Hast thou reduc'd to ashes? Oh! reflect,

What fires of stern resistance and revenge

This act hath lighted in such gallant hearts.

That pow'r eternal, by the hallow'd name

Of Horomazes worshipp'd in our clime,

Who earth and seas and firmament controuls,

With all therein, looks down not less on Greece,

Than Persia, both his creatures. Just and wise,

Intemp'rate deeds in either he resents.

Mardonius answer'd: By that pow'r I swear,

Thou to a Grecian almost art transform'd

By intercourse with yon religious hill

Of thy admir'd Melissa. Do I blame?

Ah! no; too awful art thou to incur

My censure. O Masistius, I confess

Thy genius purer, more sublime, than mine;

I often err, thou never—But, dear friend,

I am dejected ever when thou chid'st;

Yet thee, my chiding monitor, should fate

Snatch from Mardonius, he would rise no more.

I only seek to warn thee, not deject,

Rejoins Masistius; turn to other cares;

Greece is in arms; address thee to thy charge.

This said, to council they in Thebes proceed.

End of the Twenty-second Book.

THE ATHENAID.
BOOK the TWENTY-THIRD.

THE Heliconian records now unfold,

Calliopè! harmonious thence recite

The names and numbers of the various Greeks,

Who in array on fair Boeotian plains,

With gleams of armour streak the twinkling wave

Of clear Asopus. Troezen known to fame,

Where Pittheus dwelt, whose blood to Athens gave

The hero Theseus, Troezen from her walls

In circuit small, from Hylycus her stream,

From her Scyllaean promontory high,

From vine-attir'd Methenè, from the isles,

Calauria, Neptune's seat, and Sphaeria dear

To Pallas, daughter of almighty Jove,

Two thousand warriors sends. Cleander pass'd

The isthmus first; who manly, from the bed

Of Ariphilia rising, vow'd to deck

Her future cradle with a victor's wreath

Of laurel new. Her beauteous image grac'd

His four-fold buckler. Twice eight hundred youths

From Aesculapian Epidaurus march'd,

From mount Cynortius, and the sacred hill,

Titthēon, where the mother of that god

Medicinal in secret left her fruit

Of stolen enjoyment in Apollo's arms;

Where in serenity of smiles was found

The sweet Phoebean child, while lambent flames

Play'd round his temples. Clitophon the chief,

A serpent green, the symbol of his god,

Bore on his silver shield. Four hundred left

Leprēum, clear Arenè, and th' impure

Anigrian waters, where the centaur, fell

Polenor, wounded by Herculean shafts,

Dipp'd in the blood of Hydra, purg'd his limbs

From putrid gore, envenoming the stream;

Their leader Conon. Of Mycenae old,

Of Tiryns, built by fam'd Cyclopian toil,

Eight hundred shields Polydamas commands.

Two thousand gallant youths, with standards bless'd

At Hebe's altar, tutelary pow'r

Of Phlius, bold Menander led to war.

Himself was young; the blooming goddess shone

Bright on his buckler. Under Lycus brave

Hermionè, fair city, had enroll'd

Six hundred spears. The impress on his shield

Was strong Alcides, dragging from the gates

Of Dis their latrant guardian triple-mouth'd

Through an abyss in Hermionean land,

The fabled wonder of the district shewn.

Three thousand sail'd from Cephallenia's isle,

From Acarnanian, and Epirot shores,

With various chieftains. Of Arcadian breed

Orchomenus twelve hundred, Tegea sent

Three thousand. Chileus, prime in Tegea's camp,

Was skill'd in arms, and vaunted high the name,

The rank and prowess of his native state.

Ten thousand helms from wealthy Corinth's walls

Blaze o'er the champaign; these Alcmaeon leads

With Adimantus. Neighb'ring Sicyon arm'd

Six thousand more; amidst whose splendid files

Automedon commanded. Lo! in air

A mighty banner! from the hollows green,

The wood-crown'd hills in Lacedaemon's rule,

Taijgetus, and Menelaian ridge,

From Crocean quarries, from Gythēum's port,

Therapnè, sweet Amyclae on the banks

Of fam'd Eurotas, from a hundred towns,

A glitt'ring myriad of Laconians shew

Their just arrangement. Aemnestus there

Lists his tall spear, and rises o'er his ranks

In arduous plumes and stature. So the strength

And stately foliage of a full-grown oak

O'erlooks the undershades, his knotted arms

Above their tops extending. Mightier still

Callicrates appears, in martial deeds

Surpassing ev'ry Grecian. He his fate

Foresees not; he, capricious fortune's mark,

Must fall untimely, and his gen'rous blood

Unprofitably shed. A firmer band

Succeeds. Huge Sparta, who forever scorn'd

Defensive walls and battlements, supplied

Five thousand citizens close-mail'd; a train

Of sev'n bold Helots exercis'd in arms,

Attend each warrior; there Pausanias tow'r'd.

In pride the son of Atreus he surpass'd

Without his virtues, a superior host

Commanding. Never Greece such heroes sent,

Nor such a pow'r in multitude to war;

For landed recent on the neighb'ring shore

Th' Athenian phalanx opens broad in sight

Their eleutherian banner. They advance

Eight thousand men at arms; an equal force

In archers, slingers, missile-weapon'd sons

Of terror follow. Round her naval flag

Already four bold myriads from her loins

Had Attica enroll'd. What chiefs preside!

Themistocles, Xanthippus in remote,

But glorious action; Aristides here,

Myronides and Cimon, Clinias, sire

Of Alcibiades, the warrior bard,

Young Pericles, and more than time hath seen

Since or before, in arts and arms renown'd.

The ancient foe of Athens, yet averse

Like her to Xerxes, Megara enroll'd

Six thousand warriors. From Aegina sail'd

A thousand. Twice six hundred, Phoenix-like,

Sprung from the ashes of Plataea burnt,

With Arimnestus march'd, th' intrepid friend

Of him, whose deeds Thermopylae resounds,

Diomedon. From Thespia, who had shar'd

Plataea's doom, two thousand came unarm'd,

Unclad, a want by Attic stores supplied.

Alcimedon was chief, of kindred blood

To Dithyrambus; whom, his early bloom

For Greece devoting, on Melissa's hill

The Muses sing and weep. Between the roots

Of tall Cithaeron, and th' Asopian floods,

The army rang'd. The Spartans on the right

One wing compos'd; the men of Tegea claim'd

The left in pref'rence to th' Athenian host.

Contention rose; Pausanias sat the judge,

Callicrates and Aemnestus wise,

His two assessors; thick Laconian ranks

A circle form; when Chileus thus asserts

The claim of Tegea: Spartans, from the time,

The early time, that Echemus, our king,

In single combat on the listed field

O'erthrew the invader Hyllus, and preserv'd

Unspoil'd the land of Pelops, we obtain'd

From all her sons unanimous this post,

Whene'er united in a common cause

They march'd to battle. Not with you we strive,

Ye men of Sparta, at your choice command

In either wing; the other we reclaim

From Athens; brave and prosp'rous we have join'd

Our banners oft with yours; our deeds you know;

To ours superior what can Athens plead

Of recent date, or ancient? for what cause

Should we our just prerogative resign?

Then Aristides spake: Collected here

Are half the Grecians to contend in arms

With Barbarous invaders, not in words

Each with the other for precedence vain.

From his own volume let the tongue of time,

Not mine, proclaim my countrymen's exploits

In early ages. In his course he views

The varying face of nature, sea to land,

Land turn'd to sea, proud cities sink in dust,

The low exalted, men and manners change,

From fathers brave degen'rate sons proceed,

And virtuous children from ignoble sires.

What we are now, you, Grecians, must decide

At this important crisis. Judges, fix

On Marathon your thoughts, that recent stage

Of preservation to the public weal,

Where fifty nations, arm'd to conquer Greece,

We unassisted foil'd; more fresh, the day

Of Salamis recall. Enough of words;

No more contention for the name of rank;

The bravest stand the foremost in the sight

Of gods and mortals. As to you is meet,

Determine, Spartans; at your will arrange

Th' Athenians; they acknowledge you the chiefs

Of this great league, for gen'ral safety fram'd,

Wherever plac'd, obedient they will fight.

The sense of all his countrymen he breath'd,

Who for the public welfare in this hour

Their all relinquish, and their very pride

A victim yield to virtue. From his seat,

Inspir'd by justice, Aemnestus rose:

Brave as they are, our friends of Tegea seem

To have forgot the Marathonian field,

The Salaminian trophies; else this strife

Had ne'er alarm'd the congregated host

Of states so various and remote. As brief

Callicrates subjoins: Not less our friends

Of Tegea seem forgetful, that their claim

Within the isthmus is confin'd, the gift

Of part, not binding universal Greece.

Athenian moderation had before

Won ev'ry Spartan; loud they sound the name

Of Athens, Athens, whose pretension just

The general confirms, restoring peace.

So in a chorus full the manly bass

Directs the pow'r of harmony to float

On equal pinions, and attune the air.

Now Sparta's wide encampment on the right

Was form'd; sedate and silent was the toil,

As is the concourse of industrious ants,

In mute attention to their public cares.

Extending thence, successive states erect

Their standards. On the left their num'rous tents

Th' Athenians pitch. In labour not unlike

The buzzing tenants of sonorous hives,

Loquacious they and lively cheer the field,

Yet regularly heed each signal giv'n

By staid commanders. Underneath a fringe

Of wood, projecting from Cithaeron's side,

Ascends the chief pavilion. Seated there

Is Aristides at a frugal board,

An aged menial his attendant sole;

But from the tribes selected, round him watch

An hundred youths, whose captain is the son

Of fam'd Miltiades. The neighb'ring bed

Of pure Asopus, from Cithaeron's founts,

Refreshment inexhaustible contain'd.

His arms th' Athenian patriot in his tent

Was now exploring, when he hears the step

Of Aemnestus ent'ring, who began:

Most wise of men and righteous, whom all Greece,

Not Athens singly, as her glory claims,

Grant me an hour. Laconian laws, thou know'st,

Subordination to excess enjoin.

I am obedient to the man, who holds

Supreme command by office, rank, and birth,

While thee my heart confesses and admits

My sole adviser. Haughty and morose,

O'er uncommunicated thoughts will brood

Our dark Pausanias; I may often want

Thy counsel; now instruct me. Is it meet,

We cross th' Asopus to assail the foe,

Or wait his coming? Let him come, replies

The Attic sage; let bold invaders court

A battle, not th' invaded, who must watch

Occasion's favour. Present in thy mind

Retain, that Greece is center'd in this host,

Which if we hazard lightly were a crime,

Th' offended gods with fetters would chastise:

Our Attic flame to sudden onset points,

By me discourag'd. Aemnestus then:

Know, that with me Callicrates unites;

Farewell; thy wisdom shall direct us both.

The sun was set; th' unnumber'd eyes of heav'n

Thin clouds envelop'd; dusky was the veil

Of night, not sable; placid was the air;

The low-ton'd current of Asopus held

No other motion than his native flow,

Alluring Aristides in a walk

Contemplative to pace the stable verge

Attir'd in moss. The hostile camp he views,

Which by Masistian vigilance and art

With walls of wood and turrets was secur'd.

For this the groves of Jupiter supreme

On Hypatus were spoil'd, Teumessian brows,

Mesabius, Parnes, were uncover'd all.

Square was th' inclosure, ev'ry face emblaz'd

With order'd lights. Each elevated tent

Of princely satraps, and, surmounting all,

Mardonius, thine, from coronets of lamps

Shot lustre, soft'ning on the distant edge

Of wide Plataean fields. A din confus'd

Proclaim'd Barbarians; silent was the camp

Of Greece. These thoughts the spectacle excites

In Aristides: Slender is thy bound,

Asopus, long to separate such hosts,

Or keep thy silver wave from blood unstain'd.

Lord of Olympus! didst thou want the pow'r,

Or, boundless pow'r possessing, want the will

Thy own created system to secure

From such destruction? Wherefore on this plain

Is Europe thus, and adverse Asia met

For human carnage? Natural this search,

Yet but a waste of reason. Let me shun

Unprofitable wand'rings o'er the land

Obscure of trackless mystery; to see

The path of virtue open is enough.

Whate'er the cause of evil, he, who knows

Himself not partner in that cause, attains

Enough of knowledge; all the rest is dream

Of falsely-styl'd philosophy. My task

Is to destroy the enemies of Greece;

Be active there, my faculties, and lose

Nor time, nor thought. Revisiting his tent,

Sicinus call'd apart he thus instructs:

Return, discreet and faithful, to the son

Of Neocles; thy own observing eye

Will prompt thy tongue; this notice sole I send.

We will not hurry to a gen'ral fight.

Bless in my name Timothea; bless her sons,

Her daughters; nor, good man, o'erlook my own.

Six monthly periods of the solar course

Were now complete; intense the summer glow'd.

The patient Greeks for eight successive days

Endure the insults of Barbarian horse

Behind their lines; when eager to his friend

The Persian gen'ral: Best belov'd of men,

Impart thy counsel. Lo! this vaunted race

Lurk in their trenches, and avoid the plain.

To him Masistius: I have mark'd a post

Accessible and feeble in their line.

To me thy choicest cavalry commit,

I at the hazard of my life will gall,

Perhaps may force that quarter. Ah! my friend,

Mardonius answer'd, shall thy precious life

Be hazarded? let others take the charge,

Briareus, Midias, Tiridates brave,

Or Mindarus; a thousand leaders bold

This host affords. Masistius, in the gloom

Of midnight from my pillow I discern'd

Thy gracious figure on a steed of fire;

Who bore thee up to heav'n, where sudden folds

Of radiant vapour wrapp'd thee from my view.

At once throughout th' innumerable tents

Their hue was chang'd to black; Boeotia's hills

And caves with ejulation from the camp

Rebellow'd round; the camels, horses, mules,

Dissolv'd in tears. Let Mithra's angry beam

Pierce this right arm, annihilate my strength,

And melt my courage! I will rest content

To purchase thus the safety of my friend.

Masistius answer'd: Son of Gobryas, learn,

That he, who makes familiar to his mind

The certainty of death, and nobly dares

In virtue's clear pursuit, may look serene

On boding dreams, and auguries averse.

No sign, but honour, he requires; he wants

No monitor, but duty. An attempt,

My observation hath maturely weigh'd,

Belongs to me; to others less inform'd

I will not leave the danger. Quick replies

Disturb'd Mardonius, while at friendship's warmth

Ambition melts, and honour fills his breast:

O! worthier far than frail Mardonius, take

O'er all the host of Xerxes chief command;

Me from temptation, him from danger guard.

Again Masistius: Son of Gobryas, peace;

My ear is wounded. Ever dost thou sink

Below the level of thy worth with me,

With others soar'st too high. What means the word

Temptation? what this danger to the king?

O satrap! listed by his grace so high,

Thou hast o'erwhelm'd Masistius. May the God

Of truth and justice strengthen in thy soul

The light ingenuous, which so much reveals;

That sense of duty may suppress a thought,

I dare not clothe in language. Still in mind

The parting words of Artemisia bear,

Which in its blameless moments oft thy tongue

Repeats with admiration. "Look," she said,

"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." Let me add,

Worse is the guide ambition, which misleads

To more than error, to atrocious acts.

I shall despair, Masistius, if thou fall'st,

Rejoins Mardonius. Must Masistius then

Consort with women, shut from noble deeds,

Subjoins the virtuous Persian? Can thy hand,

Thy friendly hand, now rivetted in mine,

Of my degree, and dignity of birth

Deprive me, or obliterate the name

With all its lustre, which my fathers left

Me to uphold? Or wouldst thou, if impow'r'd,

Taint my firm spirit with an eunuch's fear,

Among their feeble train my rank confine,

My strength unnerve, my fortitude debase?

While these subsist with titles, wealth and state,

While, as I pass, the crouding myriads shout,

Here comes Masistius; what is less requir'd

From him, than deeds to manifest a soul,

Which merits such distinction? We again

This day will meet, Mardonius—but as none

Of human texture can the flight foresee

Of that inevitable dart, which soon,

Or late will strike, I leave these words behind.

If, blinded still by superstition's cloud,

Thou wilt believe me in this hour the mark

Of fate, retain them, as my dying words:

Ambition curb; let virtue be thy pride.

They separated sad; Mardonius still

Foreboding evil to his noble friend,

He at the frailty of Mardonius griev'd.

Masistius, soon collecting round his tent

The prime of Persian cavalry, bespake

Their captains thus: Your steeds and arms prepare;

String well your bows, your quivers store with shafts;

With num'rous javelins each his courser load.

I am this day your gen'ral; I rely

On your known prowess; and I trust, the hand

Of Horomazes will conduct you back

Victorious; but remember, that the brave

In life, or death, accomplishing their part,

Are happy. All, rejoicing in a chief

Belov'd, his orders sedulous fulfil.

In arms, more splendid than for Peleus' son

Th' immortal artist forg'd, Masistius cas'd

His limbs of beauteous frame, and manly grace,

To match that hero, whom Scamander saw

With Dardan blood imbru'd. In hue of snow

His horse, of all Nisaea's breed the choice,

Caparison'd in rubies, champs the gold,

Which rules his mouth; his animated mane

Floats o'er the bridle, form'd of golden braid.

His page was nigh, that youth of eastern race,

Whom for his merit pure Melissa gave

To this benignant satrap. To ascend

His gorgeous seat preparing, thus the chief:

If I return a conqueror this day,

To that excelling dame who made thee mine,

Who hath enlarg'd whate'er of wise and great,

Of just and temp'rate I to nature owe,

Refin'd my manners, and my purest thoughts

Exalted, I my friendship will prolong

In gratitude and rev'rence; blessing heav'n,

Which thus prefers Masistius to extend

Benevolence to virtue. If I fall,

Resume with her the happiest lot my care

Can recommend, Statirus. Though no Greek,

Her pupil, say, in offices humane

Hath not been tardy; by her light inspir'd,

He went more perfect to a noble grave.

End of the Twenty-third Book.

THE ATHENAID.
BOOK the TWENTY-FOURTH.

WHILE thus Mafistius for the field prepar'd,

At sacrifice amidst the diff'rent chiefs

Pausanias stood, the entrails to consult

For heav'n's direction. Like a god rever'd

Among the Spartans, was an augur fam'd,

Tisamenus. The Pythian had declar'd

Him first of prophets; he the rites performs;

The victim open'd he inspects, and thus

In solemn tone: Hear, Grecians, and obey

The will of Jove. To pass th' Asopian flood

Forbear. With Persian fetters in her hand

Ill fortune seated on that bank I see,

On this the laurel'd figure of success.

The augur ceas'd; when suddenly in view

Th' Asopian current, overswelling, foams

With eastern squadrons, wading through the fords.

Bounds in the van Masistius on a steed,

Whose glist'ning hue the brightest of the four

Which drew th' irradiate axle of the morn

Might scarce outshine. Erect the hero sat,

Firm as the son of Danaë by Jove,

When his strong pinion'd Pegasus he wheel'd

Through Aethiopian air from death to guard

Andromeda his love. In rapid haste

A herald greets Pausanias: From the men

Of Megara I come. A post advanc'd,

The most obnoxious in the Grecian line

To harassing assaults, their daily toil

With unabating firmness long has held.

Unwonted numbers of Barbarian horse

Now sweep the field; a reinforcement send,

Her standard else will Megara withdraw.

Pausanias then, alike to try the Greeks,

And save his Spartans, answer'd: Chiefs, you hear;

Who will be foremost to sustain our friends?

Through fear the dang'rous service is declin'd

By many. Indignation to behold

No Spartans offer'd, but the arduous task

Impos'd on others, held Cleander mute;

When Aristides: Herald, swift return,

Athenian aid might else prevent thy speed.

The patriot spake, and left the Greeks amaz'd,

Well knowing Athens with abhorrence look'd

On Megara, her envious, ranc'rous foe

Of ancient date, whom now she flies to aid.

Meantime that feeblest station of the camp

Th' impetuous Asian cavalry surround.

As clouds, impregnated with hail, discharge

Their stormy burden on a champaign rich

In ripen'd grain, and lay the crackling rows

Of Ceres prostrate; under sheets of darts,

With arrows barb'd and javelins, thus whole ranks

Of Megara, by wounds or death o'erthrown,

Gasp on the ground. Alcathöus expires,

The blood of Nisus, Megatensian prince

In times remote, and fabled to have held

His fate dependent on a purple hair

Amidst his hoary locks. That vital thread

His impious daughter sever'd, blind with love

For Minos, Cretan king, her father's foe.

Masistius pierc'd him; javelins from his arm

Incessant flew; on heaps of nameless dead

He laid Evenus, Lysicles, the youth

Of Cyparissus, and Cratander's age,

Distinguish'd each by office, wealth, or birth,

Or martial actions. Beasts of chace and prey,

The wolf and boar, the lion and the stag,

Within close toils imprison'd, thus become

The hunter's mark. The signal of retreat

Is now uplifted by the hopeless chiefs;

When, as a friendly gale with stiff'ning wings

Repels a vessel, driving by the force

Of boist'rous currents in a fatal track

To bulge on rocks, a voluntary band

Of men at arms, and bowmen, Attic all,

Restrain the flight of Megara. Expert

Their shafts they level at the Persian steeds,

Not at the riders. Soon around the plain

Th' ungovern'd animals disperse, enrag'd

By galling wounds. Olympiodorus, chief

Among the light auxiliars, on the lists

Of Pisa just Hellanodics had crown'd,

The first of Greeks in archery. He stands

Like Telamonian Teucer on the mound

Of Atreus' son, where fate's unerring hand

Had strung the bow which heap'd with Phrygian dead

Th' empurpled fosse, while Ajax swung abroad

The sev'n-fold shield to guard a brother's skill.

Still in the field Masistius, who observ'd

The active archer, from his lofty seat

Against him whirls a javelin. Cimon near

Receives the blunted weapon on the boss

Of his huge buckler. His vindictive bow

Olympiodorus bends; the rapid shaft

Full in the forehead of the gen'rous steed

He lodges deep. The high Nisaean blood

Boils in its channels through tormenting pain;

Erect the courser paws in air, and hurls

In writhing agitation from his back

Th' illustrious rider on the plain supine.

Against him rush th' Athenians; on his feet

They find him brandishing his sabre keen,

With his firm shield a bulwark to his breast,

Like one of those earth-sprung in radiant arms,

Whom the Cadmēan dragon's fruitful jaws

Or Colchian serpent's teeth produc'd. Assail'd

On ev'ry side, his fortitude augments

With danger. Down to Pluto's realm he sends

Iphicrates and Eurytus, who drank

Callirrhoe's fountain; Amynander born

On smooth Ilissus, and three gallant youths

Of Marathon. His cuirass strong withstands

Repeated blows; unwounded, but o'ercome

By unremitted labour, on his knees,

Like some proud structure half o'erthrown by time,

He sinks at last. Brave Cimon hastes to save

A foe so noble in his deeds, in port

Beyond a mortal; when a vulgar sword

That moment through the vizor of his helm

Transfix'd the brain, so exquisitely form'd,

The seat of purest sentiment and thought.

His frame, in ruin beauteous still and great,

The fatal stroke laid low. An earthquake thus

Shook from his base that wonder of the world,

The Colossean deity of Rhodes.

Of danger all unheeding, by his lord

Statirus kneel'd, and o'er his bosom spread

His palms in anguish. Timely to protect

The gentle youth ingenuous Cimon came,

While thus the gasping satrap breath'd his last:

Farewell, thou faithful—Bid Mardonius think

How brief are life's enjoyments—Virtue lives

Through all eternity—By virtue earn'd,

Praise too is long—Melissa—grant me thine.

In death, resembling sweetest sleep, his eyes

Serenely drop their curtains, and the soul

Flies to th' eternal mansions of the just.

Within the trenches Cimon straight commands

To lodge the corse; when lo! another cloud

Of Eastern squadrons, Mindarus their chief,

Who, o'er the stream detach'd with numbers new,

Not finding great Masistius, rous'd afresh

The storm of onset. Dreadful was the shock

Of these, attempting to redeem, of those,

Who held the body; but the Attic spears

Break in the chests of fiery steeds, which press

With violence unyielding, and the ranks

In front disarm. The archers have discharg'd

Their quivers. Now had Mindarus acquir'd

Undying glory, and the Greeks resign'd

The long-contested prize, when threat'ning shouts,

Of diff'rent Grecians, pouring from the camp,

Alarm the eastern chief. Cleander here

With all Troezenè, Arimnestus there,

Diomedon's bold successor in arms,

With his Plataeans, and the Thespian brave,

Alcimedon, assail the Persian flanks.

So two hoarse torrents opposite descend

From hills, where recent thunder-storms have burst;

In the mid-vale the dashing waters meet

To overwhelm the peasant's hopes and toil.

Myronides and Aeschylus in sight,

Each with his formidable phalanx moves;

Th' encampment whole is arming. From the fight

His mangled cavalry the Persian calls.

In eager quest of refuge in their lines

Beyond Asopus, through surrounding foes

The coursers vault like swimmers, who forsake

A found'ring vessel, and with buoyant strength

Bound through the surge for safety on the beach.

Triumphant in their camp the Greeks replace

Their standards; thither Cimon's gen'rous care

Transports Masistius. Eager to behold

A prize so noble, curious throngs on throngs

Press in disorder; each his station leaves;

Confusion reigns. The gen'ral host to arms

Pausanias sternly vigilant commands,

And next provides a chariot to display,

Throughout th' extensive lines, th' illustrious dead,

In magnitude and beauty late the pride

Of nature's study'd workmanship. His limbs

The hand of Cimon tenderly compos'd,

As would a brother to a brother's corse.

Masistius fill'd the chariot; on his knees

Statirus held, and water'd with his tears

The face majestic, not by death deform'd,

Pale, but with features mild, which still retain'd

Attractive sweetness to endear the sight.

First on the right through Lacedaemon's range

The spectacle is carried; silence there

Prevails; the Spartan citizen no sign

Of triumph shews, subordinate to law,

Which disciplin'd his passions. Tow'rds the left,

Through exultation loud of other Greeks,

The awful car at length to Attic ranks

Brings their own prize, by Aristides met;

There silence too, in rev'rence of their chief,

Is universal. He prepares to speak;

But first the mighty reliques he surveys.

He feels like Jove, contemplating the pure,

The gen'rous, brave Sarpedon, as he lay

In death's cold arms, when swift th' almighty sire

Decreed that Morpheus, gentlest of the gods,

Should waft to Lycia's realm the royal clay,

From pious friends and subjects to obtain

The rites of splendid sepulture. Complete

Was now the solemn pause; to list'ning ears

Thus Aristides vents his godlike soul:

Here close your triumph, Grecians, nor provoke

The jealous pow'rs who mark for chosen wrath

O'er-weening pride. Though auguring success

From this great satrap's fall, revere his clay;

Such rev'rence all of mortal mold will need,

All soon, or late. If comeliness and strength,

If gracious manners, and a mind humane,

If worth and wisdom could avoid the grave,

You had not seen this tow'r of Asia fall.

Yet there is left attainable by man,

What may survive the grave; it is the fame

Of gen'rous actions; this do you attain.

I in Psittalia's isle this Persian knew

Brave Medon's prize; his captive hands we freed;

To him our hospitable faith we pledg'd,

Through whom Phoebean Timon was redeem'd,

With Haliartus, on Euboea's fields

To signalize their swords. On Oeta's hill

In him the daughter of Oïleus found

A spotless guardian. Let his corse and arms,

Thy acquisition, Cimon, be resign'd

To piety; a herald shall attend

Thy steps; remove him to his native friends.

Let Xerxes hear, let fierce Mardonius see,

How much Barbarians differ from the Greeks.

Minerva's tribes, approving, hear the words

Of clemency and pity. Cimon mounts

The fun'ral car; attentive and compos'd

Like Maia's son, commission'd from the skies

By his eternal sire, the warrior hears

The full instructions of his patron chief.

Th' Asopian stream he fords to Asia's tents,

Whence issue wailing multitudes, who rend

The air with ejulation, while the wheels

Before Mardonius stop their solemn roll.

He rives his mantle, and defiles with dust

His splendid head. Not more the destin'd king

Of Judah mourn'd the virtuous heir of Saul,

Mow'd down in battle by Philistian strength

On Gilboa's heights; nor melted more in grief

O'er Absalom's fair locks, too much endear'd

To blind parental fondness. From the car

Descending, Cimon spake: Lo! Persian chief,

The just Athenian, Aristides, sends

These reliques, which he honours, to partake

Of sepulture, as eastern rites ordain.

Then art thou fall'n, too confident, exclaims

Mardonius, too unmindful of my love,

And anxious warnings! Mithra, veil thy face

In clouds! In tears of blood, thou sky, dissolve!

Earth groan, and gen'ral nature join in woe!

The tallest cedar of the orient groves

Lies prostrate—Destiny malign! I brave

Thy further malice—Blasted to the root

Is all my joy. Here sorrow clos'd his lips.

As frozen dead by wintry gusts he stood,

Devoid of motion; Mindarus was nigh,

Whose interposing prudence thus was heard:

O chief of nations numberless! who stand

Spectators round, and watch thy lightest look,

Confine thy anguish; in their sight revere

Thyself; regard this messenger benign

From Aristides, and thy native sense

Of obligation rouse. Mardonius then,

As from a trance: I hear thee, and approve,

My gentle kinsman. This returning car,

With purest gold, and costly vesture pil'd,

Shall bear the copious tribute of my thanks

To Aristides; whom extoll'd to heav'n

By excellent Masistius oft my soul

Hath heard, the righteous by the righteous prais'd.

Now Cimon interpos'd: That man extoll'd

Thou dost not, Persian, lib'ral as thou art,

Mean to offend; thy presents then with-hold.

In poverty more glorious, than in wealth

The wealthiest, Aristides frowns at gold.

No costly vestures decorate his frame,

Itself divine; the very arms he wears,

The sole possession of that spotless man,

All ornament reject; he only boasts

The sharpest sword, the weightiest spear and shield.

Ha! must I pass unthankful in the sight

Of one, Masistius lov'd, the chief reply'd?

No, answer'd quick th' Athenian; from his cross

Take down Leonidas. A stedfast look

Mardonius fix'd on Cimon: That request,

O Greek! is big with danger to my head,

Which I will hazard, since the only price

Set on the precious reliques thou restor'st.

This said, he orders to his tent the corse;

There on the clay-cold bosom of his friend

Thus plaintive hangs: Fall'n pillar of my hopes,

What is Mardonius, wanting thy support!

Thou arm of strength, for ever are unbrac'd

Thy nerves! Enlighten'd mind, where prudence dwelt,

Heart purify'd by honour, you have left

Mardonius helpless; left him to himself,

To his own passions, which thy counsel tam'd!

The dang'rous paths of error I shall tread

Without thy guidance! Shame, defeat and death,

Frown in thy wounds ill-boding—yet thy look

Not fate itself of gentleness deprives.

By heaven a world shall mourn thee—Loud he calls;

Which Mindarus obeys. To him the chief:

Thou too didst love Masistius—Fly, proclaim

A gen'ral lamentation through the camp;

Let all Boeotia sound Masistius lost.

O verify'd too clearly, boding dream

Of mine, by him so fatally despis'd!

See ev'ry head dismantled of its hair,

The soldiers, women, eunuchs; of his mane

See ev'ry steed, the mule and camel shorn.

O that the echo of our grief might pass

The Hellespont to Asia! that her loss

Through all her cities, through her vales, and streams,

Beyond the banks of Ganges might be told!

As Mindarus departs, the Theban chief

Approaches, Leontiades, who spake:

If there be one, O gen'ral, can replace

Masistius wise, that prodigy is found,

Elēan Hegesistratus, of seers

The most renown'd. His penetrating mind

Can from the victim slain, or mystic flight

Of birds, foresee the dark events of time;

Invet'rate foe to Sparta, sore with wrongs,

He comes thy servant. Opportune he comes,

Replies Mardonius. In the rites of Greece

Ten hecatombs, before the sun descends,

Shall to Masistius bleed an off'ring high.

I will engage this augur at a price

Beyond his wishes; let his skill decide,

When to give battle, and avenge my friend.

Collect your Grecian artists; instant build

A cenotaph in your Dircaean grove,

Where that pure fountain trills a mournful note.

There shall Masistius in his name survive

Among the Greeks; his last remains, embalm'd,

Among his fathers shall in Susa rest.

The Theban goes. Statirus next appears;

Th' afflicted hero greets the weeping youth:

Ah! poor Statirus! thou hast lost thy lord,

I lost my friend, her bulwark Asia lost.

The sacred clay to Artamanes bear,

Left in Trachiniae chief. His pious love

(Who did not love Masistius) will convey

To distant Sestos his embalm'd remains,

Thence o'er the narrow Hellespont, to reach

His native Asia, and his father's tomb.

How did he fall, Statirus? Did he send

To me no counsel from his dying lips?

These, in a sigh the faithful page began,

Were his last accents. "Let Mardonius think

"How brief are life's enjoyments. Virtue lives

"Through all eternity. By virtue earn'd

"Praise too is long—Melissa, grant me thine".

Commend me to Melissa, starting, spake

The son of Gobryas. From the shameful cross

Bid Artamanes in her presence free

Leonidas the Spartan. Now perform

Another act of duty to thy lord;

Despoil my head of all its curling pride;

Slight sacrifice to grief—but ev'ry limb,

Lopt from this body, and its mangled flesh

Shall in the dust be scatter'd, ere I quit

My chace of great revenge. Concluding here,

He strides impetuous like a stately ram,

Lord of the flock new-shorn. His giant guard

Inclose him round; th' innumerable host

Attend him, all divested of their hair,

In howling anguish to an altar huge,

By hasty hands constructed. Deep the earth

Around is hollow'd, deep is drench'd with blood.

Ten hundred sable victims heap the ground.

Now gen'ral silence reigns, as o'er the main

In winter, when Halcyonè laments

Her Ceyx lost, and Aeolus, her sire;

By pity soften'd, all the air is calm,

While she sits brooding on her watry nest.

Amidst a cloud of frankincense the priest

Of Elis, Hegesistratus, performs

The rites of divination; awful thus

At length unfolds the mysteries of time:

Hear, all ye nations; great Mardonius, hear;

Th' Asopïan channel is the line of fate;

The host, which passes, falls; success will crown

Th' assail'd; th' assailant is to slaughter doom'd.

The multitude, discourag'd by the death

Of their belov'd Masistius, hear in joy;

Not so Mardonius at revenge delay'd.

Inaction aggravates his pain; his tent

Receives him. Solitary there, like night

Within her cavern, thus he feeds his grief:

"Ambition curb; let virtue be thy pride."

So spake Masistius, when we parted last

To meet no more—I feel ambition cold,

Benumb'd by sorrow—"Let Mardonius think,

"How brief are life's enjoyments;" so thy fate,

Dear friend, evinces—Life itself is short;

Its joys are shorter; yet the scanty span

Adversity can lengthen, till we loathe.

If, on the brilliant throne of Xerxes plac'd,

I held the orient and Hesperian worlds

My vassals, could the millions in my host

Compel the adamantine gate of death

To render back my friend? O tortur'd heart!

Which burn'st with friendship, of thy gen'rous flame

Th' inestimable object is no more.

What then is greatness? What th' imperial robe,

The diadem and scepter? Could you fill

The void, his endless absence hath produc'd

In my sad bosom? Were ye mine how vain

The acquisition, which my grief would loathe,

And, wak'd by grief, let honour timely shun,

Lest from his grave Masistius should arise

To shake my pillow with his nightly curse.

Not hecatombs on hecatombs of bulls

Heap'd on his manes, not the votive hair,

Nor fun'ral moan of nations could avail

To moderate his ire; nor all the pow'r

Of empires join'd to empires guard my sleep.

At length he sinks in slumber, not compos'd,

But wanders restless through the wild of dreams.

End of the Twenty-fourth Book.

THE ATHENAID.
BOOK the TWENTY-FIFTH.

ERE thus each augur in the diff'rent camps

Unmann'd the soldier by religious dread,

Euboea's coast Sicinus had regain'd.

That peopled island's force of ships and arms

Themistocles had muster'd. Oreus held

The ready chief, expecting weighty news

From Aristides, which Sicinus swift

Imparts. To him Themistocles: My friend,

I ask no more; the assembled host of Greece

Hath fix'd Mardonius on th' Asopian verge;

A hasty conflict Aristides shuns;

Then shall the blow, I meditate, be struck,

Ere thy reverted passage can transmit

To him my greetings. Stay and see my oars

For infamous Thessalia dash the waves;

Her Aleuadian race of tyrants foul,

Friends to Barbarians, traitors to the Greeks,

Shall feel my scourge. Her plenty I will bar

Against Mardonius; famine shall invade

His tents, and force him to unequal fight.

He gives command; the signal is uprear'd

For embarkation. All Euboea pours

Her sons aboard, and loads the groaning decks.

From his Cleora Hyacinthus parts,

Brave Haliartus from his new-espous'd

Acanthè. Lo! each female seeks the beach,

Spectatress eager of th' alluring man,

Whose artful eye could summon ev'ry grace

To fascinate both sexes, and his wiles

Arm with enchantment. Beauteous and august

Like Cybelè, prime goddess, turret-crown'd,

Source of th' ethereal race, his consort lifts

Above the rest her countenance sublime.

By her own offspring, and the pledges dear

Of Aristides, which her hand receiv'd

At Salamis, and cherish'd like her own,

She stands encircled, her embarking lord

Accosting thus: Unfavourable winds,

Or fortune's frown I fear not. All the gods

Of earth and ocean, who delighted view

The virtuous brave, contending for their laws

With lawless tyrants, will combine to bless

Themistocles and Aristides link'd

In harmony of counsels. See, dear lord,

His and thy children interweave their hands;

Thy sure success I augur from their smiles.

I from Timothea's, gallantly replies

The parting chief. This union is thy work;

Thine be the praise from thankful Greece preserv'd.

He said, and lightly to his vessel pass'd;

While ev'ry sail was op'ning to the wind.

Euboea, where she fronts the Malian shore,

Beneath a promontory's quiet lee

Protects the fleet benighted. Here the son

Of Neocles aboard his galley calls

His pupil Hyacinthus, whom he thus

Instructs: Young hero, since Cleora's love

Could not detain thee from the lists of fame,

Fame thou shalt win. Thessalia's nearest bounds

I from Spercheos in Trachiniae's bay

Mean to invade. Nicanor and thyself

With your Carystian force, Nearchus brave

With his Chalcidians, must a distant course

To Potidaea take, whose valiant race

The winter siege of great Masistius foil'd.

Forewarn'd by due intelligence from me,

They will augment your numbers. Through the mouth

Of fam'd Enipeus Potidaean zeal

Will guide your helms to rich Larissa's walls,

Thessalia's helpless capital, whose youth

Attend Mardonius. Land, and burn th' abode

Of Aleuadian Thorax, who conducts

The foe through Greece. O'er all the region spread;

Where'er thou seest an Aleuadian roof,

The residence of traitors hurl to earth;

The flocks and herds from ev'ry pasture sweep,

From ev'ry store th' accumulated grain,

Support of Asia's myriads. O! recall

Thy late achievements on the bloody fields

Of Chalcis, and of Oreus. They, who brav'd

Thy native coast, of Demonax the friends,

Now in their own Thessalia lie thy spoil;

On their wide ruins build thee trophies new.

Commission'd thus, the animated youth

With each Carystian, each Chalcidic prow,

By morning sails. Three days the Attic chief,

Skreen'd in a harbour nigh Cenaeum's point,

Rests on his anchors. So, by thickets hid

In fell Hyrcania, nurse of rav'nous broods,

The tiger lurks, and meditates unseen

A sudden sally on his heedless prey.

The fourth gay dawn with fresh'ning breezes curls

The Malian waters. In Barbaric flags

The wily chief apparelling his masts

Fallacious, ere the horizontal sun

Couch'd on the ocean, fills with hostile prows

The wide Sperchean mouth. Along the vales

Innumerable carriages display

The plenty huge for Asia's camp amass'd.

Th' encircling mountains all their echoes blend

In one continu'd sound with bleating flocks,

With bellowing herds, and dissonant uproar

Of their conductors; whom Thessalia sent,

Whom all the extent of Thracia, and the realm

Of Amarantha's lord. Th' affrighted hinds

Desert their charge. Trachiniae's neighb'ring gates

With fugitives are throng'd. Lo! Cleon plants

His bold Eretrian banners on the strand;

The Styrians form; Eudemus bounds ashore,

Geraestians follow; then auxiliars new,

The subjects late of Demonax; the troops

Of Locrian Medon, Delphian Timon land,

Themistocles the last; whose chosen guard

Of fifty Attic, fifty Spartan youths,

Still sedulous and faithful close the rear.

They reach'd in order'd march Trachinian walls,

Whose gates unclos'd. Majestical advanc'd

A form rever'd by universal Greece,

Prais'd by each tongue, by ev'ry eye admir'd,

The Oïlean priestess of th' immortal Nine,

The goddess-like Melissa. Medon swift,

With Haliartus, met her sacred step.

Her name divulg'd from ev'ry station call'd

The gazing chiefs, Themistocles the first;

Whom, by her brother pointed out to view,

She thus address'd: Themistocles, give ear,

And thou, O Medon, whom, a stranger long

To my desiring eyes, they see restor'd.

Well may you wonder, that a hostile fort

Melissa's hand delivers to your pow'r.

There is a Persian worthy to be rank'd

Among the first of Grecians. Just, humane,

Thy captive, Medon, amply hath discharg'd

His price of ransom. Nine revolving moons

Beheld Masistius guardian of my hill

In purity of rev'rence to my fane,

My person, my dependents. I forsook

At Amarantha's suit my old abode;

A virtuous princess from a sickly couch

My care hath rais'd, Sandaucè, in those walls

Long resident with me. Two days are past

Since Artamanes, governing these tracts,

Heard of a navy on Thessalia's coast,

And with his force, though slender, took the field

To guard Larissa. Your descent unmans

The few remaining Persians in the fort;

All with Saudaucè and her children flew

To my protection; mercy to obtain

Became my charge; her terrors will disperse,

Soon as she knows, Themistocles is nigh.

The army halts. Trachiniae's gates admit

Cecropia's hero, Medon, and the son

Of Lygdamis. Sandaucè they approach,

Sandaucè late in convalescent charms

Fresh, as a May-blown rose, by pallid fear

Now languid, as a lily beat with rain,

Till she discovers with transported looks

Her Salaminian guardian; then the warmth

Of gratitude, redoubling all her bloom,

Before him throws her prostrate. To him ran

The recollecting children, who embrace

Their benefactor's knees. She thus unfolds

Her lips, whose tuneful exclamation charms:

O, my protector—Interposing swift,

His ready hand uplifts her from the ground.

Do not disgrace me, thou excelling fair,

He said; to leave such beauty thus depress'd

Would derogate from manhood. She replies:

Forbear to think my present captive lot

Hath humbled thus Sandaucè. No, the weight

Of obligation past, my rescu'd babes

In Salamis, myself from horror sav'd,

Have bent my thankful knee. No fears debase

My bosom now; Themistocles I see,

In him a known preserver. Melting by,

Melissa, Medon, Haliartus, shed

The tend'rest dews of sympathy. In look

Compassionate, but calm, the chief rejoins:

Suggest thy wishes, princess, and command

My full compliance. She these accents sighs:

Ye gen'rous men, what pity is not due

To eastern women! Prize, ye Grecian dames,

Your envy'd state. When your intrepid lords

In arms contend with danger on the plain,

You in domestic peace are left behind

Among your letter'd progeny, to form

Their ductile minds, and exercise your skill

In arts of elegance and use. Alas!

Our wretched race, in ignorance and sloth

By Asia nurtur'd, like a captive train,

In wheeling dungeons with our infants clos'd,

Must wait th' event of some tremendous hour,

Which, unpropitious, leaves us on the field

A spoil of war. What myriads of my sex

From Greece to distant Hellespont bestrew

The ways, and whiten with their bleaching bones

The Thracian wilds! Spercheos views the tomb

Of Ariana, hapless sister, laid

In foreign mold! My portion of distress

You know, benignant guardians, who asswag'd

My suff'rings. Then to quit the diresul scene,

Revisiting my native soil, to rest

Among my children, and instruct their youth,

As kind Melissa hath instructed mine,

Were sure no wish immoderate or vague.

But Artamanes—Blushing, trembling, here

She paus'd. Melissa takes the word: Sweet friend,

Let vice, not virtue blush. Cecropian chief,

Her soft attention well that youth deserves,

She all his constancy and care. Their hands

Are pledg'd; th' assent of Asia's king alone

Is wanting, which Mardonius hath assur'd

To Artamanes, flow'r of Asia's peers.

Him, with unequal force, to battle march'd

Against thy ranks, which never have been foil'd,

She knows, and trembles. Artfully replies

Themistocles: Sandaucè may prevent

This danger. Let her messenger convey

A kind injunction, that the noble youth,

Whose merit I have treasur'd in my breast,

May sheath his fruitless weapons, and, return'd

To her, aboard my well-appointed keel

With her embarking, seek their native soil.

The princess hears, and joyfully provides

A messenger of trust. Assembling now

His captains, thus Themistocles ordains:

Friends of Euboea, soon as Phoebus dawns

Your progress bend to Larissaean tow'rs;

Your chief is Cleon. Hyacinthus join;

To your united force the foe must yield.

Save Artamanes; bring him captive back,

But not with less humanity than care.

Accomplish'd Medon, Haliartus, vers'd

In Oeta's neighb'ring wilds, your Locrians plant

Among the passes; once secur'd, they leave

Us at our leisure to contrive and act.

Thee, honour'd seer of Delphi, at my side

In this Trachinian station I retain.

By op'ning day each leader on his charge

Proceeds. Themistocles inspects the vale,

Constrains the peasants from unnumber'd cars

Aboard his fleet to lade the golden grain.

Before Thermopylae the Locrian files

Appear. From Oeta's topmast peak, behold,

O'er Medon's head a vulture wings his flight,

Whom to a cross beside the public way

Th' Oïlean hero's curious eye pursues.

Oh! stay thy rav'nous beak, in anguish loud

Cries Haliartus. Shudder while thou hear'st,

Son of Oïleus; on that hideous pile

The bones of great Leonidas are hung.

Then Medon's cool, delib'rate mind was shook

By agitation to his nature strange.

His spear and buckler to the ground he hurl'd;

Before th' illustrious ruins on his knee

He sunk, and thus in agony exclaim'd:

Should this flagitious profanation pass

Unpunish'd still, th' existence of the gods

Were but a dream. O, long-enduring Jove!

Thy own Herculean offspring canst thou see

Defac'd by vultures, and the parching wind,

Yet wield resistless thunder—But thy ways

Are awfully mysterious; to arraign

Thy heaviest doom is blasphemy. Thy will

For me reserv'd the merit to redeem

These precious reliques; penitent I own

My rashness; thankful I accept the task.

O mighty spirit! who didst late inform

With ev'ry virtue that disfigur'd frame,

With ev'ry kind affection prov'd by me,

The last distinguish'd object of thy care,

When it forbad me to partake thy fate,

The life, thy friendship sav'd, I here devote

To vindicate thy manes. Not the wrongs

Of gen'ral Greece, not Locris giv'n to flames,

Not the subversion of my father's house,

E'er with such keen resentment stung my heart,

As this indignity to thee. He said,

And, with the aid of Haliartus, free'd

The sacred bones; Leonteus, and the prime

Of Locris, frame with substituted shields

Th' extemporeanous bier. Again the chief:

Leonteus, Haliartus, rest behind;

Achieve th' important service, which the son

Of Neocles enjoins. The pious charge

Be mine of rend'ring to Melissa's care

These honour'd reliques. Now in measur'd pace

The warlike bearers tread; their manly breasts

Not long withhold the tribute of their sighs

Ingenuous; tears accompany their steps.

His sister in Trachiniae Medon soon

Approaches; glad she hears him, and replies.

Hail! brother, hail! thou chosen by the gods

From longer shame to rescue these remains,

Which once contain'd whate'er is good and great

Among the sons of men. Majestic shade!

By unrelenting laws of Dis forbid

To enter, where thy ancestors reside;

Who, seed of Jove, to their Elysian joys

Expect thee, most illustrious of the race.

Amidst thy wand'rings on the banks of Styx,

Dost thou recall Melissa's dirge of praise

O'er thee, preparing by a glorious death

To save thy country? O! unbury'd still,

Did not Melissa promise to thy dust

Peace in her temple? An atrocious king

Hath barr'd awhile th' accomplishment; thy friend,

Thy soldier, now will ratify my word.

Soon to Lycurgus shall thy spirit pass,

To Orpheus, Homer, and th' Ascraean sage,

Who shall contend to praise thee in their bow'rs

Of amaranth and myrtle, ever young

Like thy renown. In Oeta's fane these bones,

Dear to the Muses, shall repose, till Greece,

Amid her future triumphs, hath decreed

A tomb and temple to her saviour's fame.

This high oblation of pathetic praise,

Paid by her holy friend, Sandaucè notes

Attentive; seldom from Melissa's eye

Was she remote. Her eunuchs she deputes

To bring a coffer large of od'rous wood

Inlaid with pearl, repository due

To such divine remains. In time appears

Th' Athenian gen'ral to applaud the deed,

While thus the mighty manes he invokes:

Hear, thou preserver of thy country, hear!

Lo! in his palms of Salamis the son

Of Neocles salutes thee. From a hand,

Which hath already half aveng'd thy death,

Accept of decent rites. Thy virtue sav'd

A nation; they hereafter shall complete

Thy fun'ral honours, and surround thy tomb

With trophies equal to thy deathless name.

He ceas'd. Her mantle on the solemn scene

Night from her car in dusky folds outspread.

Three mornings pass. Anon Sperchēan banks

Re-echo shouts of triumph, while the vales

Are clad in arms. Lo! Cleon is return'd,

Uplifting bloodless ensigns of success,

And thus accosts Themistocles: Thy prize,

This Persian lord receive; our hasty march

O'ertook his rear. From Larissaean tow'rs,

A recent conquest, Hyacinthus, join'd

By Potidaeans, and Olynthian spears,

Was then in sight. The herald I detach'd

With fair Sandaucè's message, and thy terms

Of peace and safety; Artamanes found

Resistance vain, and yielded. From the van

Now stepp'd the Persian graceful, and bespake

Themistocles: Accept a second time

Thy captive, gen'rous Grecian; nor impute

To want of prowess, or to fond excess

Of acquiescence to Sandaucè's will,

My unreserv'd surrender. To have stain'd

By fruitless contest thy triumphant wreaths

With blood, and spurn'd the bounty of thy hand,

Had prov'd ingratitude in me. These words

Cecropia's chief return'd: Receive my hand,

Thy pledge of freedom here not less secure,

Than heretofore at Salamis, thy pledge

Of bliss yet more endearing. Soon my keel

Shall place thee happy on thy native coast,

Thee and thy princess; that in future days

You may at least of all the Asian breed

Report my kindness, and forget my sword.

Amidst his words a soft complaining trill

Of Philomela interrupts their sound.

The youthful satrap then: That pensive bird,

Sandaucè's warbling summoner, is wont

In evening shade on Ariana's tomb

To sit and sing; my princess there devotes

In melancholy solitude this hour

To meditation, which dissolves in tears.

Then greet her, said th' Athenian; thy return

Will sooth her tender breast. My promise add,

That on the first fair whisper of the winds,

She shall revisit her maternal soil.

This said, they parted. At her sister's grave

The satrap join'd his princess. He began:

I have obey'd thy summons. No disgrace

Was my surrender to the conqu'ring sword,

Which Persia long hath felt. Thy servant comes

No more a captive, but to thee by choice;

Themistocles all bounteous and humane,

As heretofore, I find. Forbear to check

That rising birth of smiles; in perfect light

Those half-illuminated eyes attire;

Enough the tribute of their tears hath lav'd

These precious tombs. Prepare thee to embark;

Themistocles hath promis'd thou shalt leave

A land, whose soaring genius hath depress'd

The languid plumes of Asia. Lift thy head

In pleasing hope to clasp thy mother's knees,

To change thy weeds of mourning, and receive

A royal brother's gift, this faithful hand.

Nigh Ariana's clay Autarctus slept.

Divine Sandaucè on her husband's tomb,

With marble pomp constructed by the care

Of Artamanes, fix'd a pensive look

In silence. Sudden from the cluster'd shrubs,

O'erhanging round it, tuneful all and blithe

A flight of feather'd warblers, which abound

Through each Thessalian vale, in carrol sweet

Perch on the awful monument. The sun

Streaks with a parting, but unsully'd ray

Their lively change of plumage, and each rill

Is soften'd by their melody. Accept,

Accept this omen, Artamanes cries;

Autarctus favours, Horomazes smiles,

Whose choir of songsters not unprompted seem

Our nuptial hymn preluding. She replies:

I want no omen to confirm thy truth.

Dust of my sister, of my lord, farewell;

Secure in Grecian piety remain.

Still in his offspring will Sandaucè love

I have obey'd thy summons. No disgrace

Was my surrender to the conqu'ring sword,

Which Persia long hath felt. Thy servant comes

No more a captive, but to thee by choice;

Themistocles all bounteous and humane,

As heretofore, I find. Forbear to check

That rising birth of smiles; in perfect light

Those half-illuminated eyes attire;

Enough the tribute of their tears hath lav'd

These precious tombs. Prepare thee to embark;

Themistocles hath promis'd thou shalt leave

A land, whose soaring genius hath depress'd

The languid plumes of Asia. Lift thy head

In pleasing hope to clasp thy mother's knees,

To change thy weeds of mourning, and receive

A royal brother's gift, this faithful hand.

Nigh Ariana's clay Autarctus slept.

Divine Sandaucè on her husband's tomb,

With marble pomp constructed by the care

Of Artamanes, fix'd a pensive look

In silence. Sudden from the cluster'd shrubs,

O'erhanging round it, tuneful all and blithe

A flight of feather'd warblers, which abound

Through each Thessalian vale, in carrol sweet

Perch on the awful monument. The sun

Streaks with a parting, but unsully'd ray

Their lively change of plumage, and each rill

Is soften'd by their melody. Accept,

Accept this omen, Artamanes cries;

Autarctus favours, Horomazes smiles,

Whose choir of songsters not unprompted seem

Our nuptial hymn preluding. She replies:

I want no omen to confirm thy truth.

Dust of my sister, of my lord, farewell;

Secure in Grecian piety remain.

Still in his offspring will Sandaucè love

That husband, thou, my Artamanes, still

Revere that friend. She said, and dropp'd her hand,

Press'd by the youth. With purity their guide,

They o'er the mead Sperchēan slowly seek

Trachinian portals. Phoebe on their heads

Lets fall a spotless canopy of light.

End of the Twenty-fifth Book.

THE ATHENAID.
BOOK the TWENTY-SIXTH.

FROM her Tithonian couch Aurora mounts

The sky. In rev'rence now of Sparta's name,

Yet more of dead Leonidas, three days

To preparation for his burial rites

Themistocles decrees. To curious search

Innumerable herds and flocks supply

Selected victims. Of their hairy pines

To frame the stately pyre the hills are shorn.

Amid this labour Hyacinthus, rich

In Aleuadian spoil, his colleague brave

Nicanor, all the Potidaean bands,

Th' Olynthians, and Nearchus, who conducts

The youth of Chalcis, reinforce the camp

With their victorious ranks. Th' appointed day

Was then arriv'd. A broad constructed pyre

Tow'rs in the center of Trachiniae's plain;

The diff'rent standards of the Grecian host

Are planted round. The Attic chief convenes

The fifty Spartans of his guard, and thus:

Themistocles, distinguish'd by your state,

By your assiduous courage long sustain'd,

Will now repay these benefits. Your king,

Leonidas, the brightest star of Greece,

No more shall wander in the gloom of Styx;

But that last passage to immortal seats

Through me obtain. Greek institutes require

The nearest kindred on the fun'ral stage

The dead to lay, the victims to dispose,

To pour libations, and the sacred dust

Inurn. Alone of these assembled Greeks

Are you the hero's countrymen; alone

Your hands the pious office shall discharge.

Th' obedient Spartans from Trachiniae's gates

Produce to view the venerable bones

Herculean. Lifted up the structure high

Of pines and cedars, on the surface large

All, which of great Leonidas remains,

By sedulous devotion is compos'd.

The various captains follow, some in gaze

Of wonder, others weeping. Last appears

Melissa, trailing her pontific pall

(Calliopè in semblance) with her troop

Of snowy-vested nymphs from Oeta's hill,

With all her vassals, decently arrang'd

By Mycon's care. Two hecatombs are slain,

Of sheep five hundred, and libations pour'd

Of richest wine. A Spartan now applies

The ruddy firebrand. In his priestly robe

Phoebean Timon supplicates a breeze

From Aeolus to raise the creeping flame.

Thrice round the crackling heaps the silent host,

With shields revers'd, and spears inclining low,

Their solemn movement wind. The shrinking pyre

Now glows in embers; fresh libations damp

The heat. A vase of silver high-emboss'd,

By Hyacinthus from Larissa brought,

Spoil of th' abode which treach'rous Thorax held,

Receives the sacred ashes, and is plac'd

Before Melissa. So the godlike son

Of Neocles directs. An awful sign

From her commands attention; thus she spake:

Thou art not dead, Leonidas; thy mind

In ev'ry Grecian lives. Thy mortal part,

Transform'd to ashes, shall on Oeta's hill

Among the celebrating Muses dwell

In glory; while through animated Greece

Thy virtue's inextinguishable fires

Propitious beam, and, like the flames of Jove,

Intimidate her foes. Not wine, nor oil,

Nor blood of hecatombs, profusely spilt,

Can to thy manes pay the tribute due;

The massacre of nations, all the spoil

Of humbled Asia, Destiny hath mark'd

For consecration of thy future tomb.

Two ministers my soul prophetic sees,

Themistocles and Aristides stand

Presiding o'er the sacrifice. The earth,

The sea, shall witness to the mighty rites.

Cease to regret the transitory doom

Of thy remains insulted, no disgrace

To thee, but Xerxes. Pass, exalted shade,

The bounds of Dis, nor longer wail thy term

Of wand'ring now elaps'd; all measur'd time

Is nothing to eternity. Assume

Among the bless'd thy everlasting seat.

Th' indignity, thy earthly frame endur'd,

Perhaps the gods permitted in their love

To sill the measure of celestial wrath

Against thy country's foes; then rest in peace,

Thou twice illustrious victim to her weal.

As, when Minerva in th' Olympian hall

Amid the synod of celestials pour'd

Her eloquence and wisdom, ev'ry god

In silence heard, and Jove himself approv'd;

Around Melissa thus were seen the chiess

In admiration bound; o'er all supreme

Themistocles applauded. Mycon last,

With her injunction charg'd, to Oeta's shrine

Was now transporting in their polish'd urn

The treasur'd ashes, when along the plain

A sudden, new appearance strikes the sight,

A fun'ral car, attended by a troop

Of olive-bearing mourners. They approach

Melissa; suppliant in her view expose

Embalm'd Masistius. Sent from Asia's camp,

A passage these had recently obtain'd

From good Leonteus, by his brother plac'd

Thermopylae's sure guard. Melissa knew

The page Statirus, foremost of the train,

Who at her feet in agony began:

Thy late protector, cold in death's embrace,

Survey, thou holy paragon; his fall

Asopus saw. Before the hero climb'd

His fatal steed, to me this charge he gave.

"If I return a conqueror this day,

"To that excelling dame who made thee mine,

"Who hath enlarg'd whate'er of wise and great,

"Of just and temp'rate I to nature owe,

"Refin'd my manners, and my purest thoughts

"Exalted, I my friendship will prolong

"In gratitude and rev'rence; blessing heav'n,

"Which thus prefers Masistius to extend

"Benevolence to virtue. If I fall,

"Resume with her the happiest lot my care

"Can recommend, Statirus. Though no Greek,

"Her pupil, say, in offices humane

"Hath not been tardy; by her light inspir'd,

"He went more perfect to a noble grave."

Cast from his wounded courser, he, o'erpow'r'd

By numbers, died. The body was restor'd

By Aristides, of unrivall'd fame

Among the just and gen'rous. O'er the dead

Mardonius rent his vesture, and his hair,

Then thus ordain'd: "This precious clay embalm'd

"To Artamanes bear, whose pious zeal

"A friend's remains to Sestus will convey,

"Thence o'er the narrow Hellespont to reach

"His native Asia, and his father's tomb."

I then repeated what my virtuous lord,

Expiring, utter'd: "Let Mardonius think

"How brief are life's enjoyments. Virtue lives

"Through all eternity. By virtue earn'd

"Praise too is long—Melissa, grant me thine".

"Commend me to Melissa, starting, spake

"The son of Gobryas. From the shameful cross

"Bid Artamanes in her presence free

"Leonidas the Spartan." All my charge

Is now accomplish'd faithfully to all.

Not far was Artamanes. From the train

Of Persians strode a giant stern in look,

Who thus address'd the satrap: Prince, behold

Briareus; hither by Mardonius sent,

Guard of this noble body, I appear

A witness too of thy disgrace; I see

These Greeks thy victors. Is th' Athenian chief

Among the band? Themistocles advanc'd;

To whom Briareus: Art thou he, who dar'd

My lord to battle on the plains of Thebes?

Where have thy fears confin'd thee till this hour

That I reproach thee with thy promise pledg'd?

But this inglorious enterprize on herds,

On flocks, and helpless peasants, was more safe,

Than to abide Mardonius in the field.

I now return. What tidings shall I bear

From thee, great conqueror of beeves and sheep?

Say, I am safe, Themistocles replies

In calm derision, and the fun'ral rites,

Thus at my leisure, to Laconia's king

Perform, while your Mardonius sleeps in Thebes.

The spirit of Leonidas, in me

Reviving, shall from Oeta's distant top

Shake your pavilions on Asopian banks.

Yet, in return for his recover'd bones,

I, undisputed master of the main,

Will waft Masistius to a Persian grave.

Thou mayst depart in safety, as thou cam'st.

The savage hears, and sullenly retreats;

While pious Medon thus accosts the dead:

Thou son of honour, to thy promise just,

Melissa's brother venerates the clay

Of her avow'd protector. Let my care

Preserve these reliques where no greedy worm,

Nor hand profane, may violate thy form;

Till friendly gales transport thee to repose

Among thy fathers. Through Trachinian gates

He leads the sable chariot, thence conveys

Th' illustrious burden to Melissa's roof;

Statirus aids. The priestess, there apart,

Bespake her brother thus: My tend'rest tears,

From public notice painfully conceal'd,

Shall in thy presence have a lib'ral flow.

Thou gav'st me this protector; honour, truth,

Humanity, and wisdom like thy own,

Were his appendage. Virtue is the same

In strangers, kindred, enemies and friends.

He won my friendship—might in earlier days

Have kindled passion—O! since fate decreed

Thee from Asopus never to return;

If by Melissa's precepts thou inspir'd

Didst go more perfect to a noble grave,

I bless the hours; and memory shall hold

Each moment dear, when, list'ning to my voice,

Thou sat'st delighted in the moral strain.

Leonidas and thou may pass the floods

Of Styx together; in your happy groves

Think of Melissa. Welcom'd were ye both

By her on earth; her tongue shall never cease,

Her lyre be never wanting to resound

Thee, pride of Asia, him, the first of Greeks,

In blended eulogy of grateful song.

She o'er the dead through half the solemn night

A copious web of eloquence unwinds,

Explaining how Masistius had consum'd

Nine lunar cycles in assiduous zeal

To guard her fane, her vassals to befriend;

How they ador'd his presence; how he won

Her from the temple to Sandaucè's cure

At Amarantha's suit; within his tent

How clemency and justice still abode

To awe Barbarians; how, departing sad,

His last farewell at Oeta's shrine he gave

In words like these: "Unrivall'd dame, we march

"Against thy country—Thou should'st wish our fall.

"If we prevail, be confident in me

"Thy safeguard still—But heav'n, perhaps, ordains

That thou shalt never want Masistius more.

She pauses. Now her mental pow'rs sublime,

Collected all, this invocation frame.

O eleutherian sire! this virtuous light,

By thee extinguish'd, proves thy care of Greece.

Who of the tribes Barbarian now survives

To draw thy favour? Gratitude requires

This pure libation of my tears to lave

Him once my guardian; but a guardian new,

Thy gift in Medon, elevates at last

My gratitude to thee. Serene she clos'd,

Embrac'd her brother, and retir'd to rest.

From Oeta's heights fresh rose the morning breeze.

A well-apparell'd galley lay unmoor'd

In readiness to sail. Sandaucè drops

A parting tear on kind Melissa's breast,

By whom dismiss'd, Statirus on the corse

Of great Masistius waits. The Grecian chiefs

•ead Artamanes to the friendly deck,

In olive wreaths, pacific sign, attir'd,

Whence he the fervour of his bosom pours:

O may this gale with gentleness of breath

Replace me joyous in my seat of birth,

As I sincere on Horomazes call

To send the dove of peace, whose placid wing

The oriental and Hesperian world

May feel, composing enmity and thirst

Of mutual havoc! that my grateful roof

May then admit Themistocles, and all

Those noble Grecians, who sustain'd my head,

Their captive thrice. But ah! what founts of blood

Will fate still open to o'erflow the earth!

Yet may your homes inviolate remain,

Imparting long the fulness of those joys,

Which by your bounty I shall soon possess!

He ceas'd. The struggle of Sandauce's heart

Suppress'd her voice. And now the naval pipe

Collects the rowers. At the signal shrill

They cleave with equal strokes the Malian floods.

Meantime a vessel, underneath the lee

Of Locris coasting, plies the rapid oar

In sight. She veers, and, lodging in her sails

The wind transverse, across the haven skims;

Till on Sperchēan sands she rests her keel.

Themistocles was musing on the turns

Of human fortune, and the jealous eye

Of stern republics, vigilantly bent

Against successful greatness; yet serene,

Prepar'd for ev'ry possible reverse

In his own fortune, he the present thought,

Of Persians chang'd from foes to friends, enjoy'd.

When lo! Sicinus landed. Swift his lord

In words like these the faithful man approach'd.

From Aristides hail! Asopus flows,

Still undisturb'd by war, between the hosts

Inactive. Each the other to assail

Inflexibly their augurs have forbid.

The camp, which Ceres shall the best supply,

Will gain the palm. Mardonius then must fight

To our advantage both of time and place,

Themistocles replies, and sudden calls

The diff'rent leaders round him. Thus he spake:

Euboeans, Delphians, Locrians, you, the chiefs

Of Potidaea and Olynthus, hear.

The ritual honours to a hero due,

Whom none e'er equall'd, incomplete are left;

Them shall the new Aurora see resum'd.

At leisure now three days to solemn games

I dedicate. Amid his num'rous tents

Mardonius on Asopus shall be told,

While he sits trembling o'er the hostile flood,

Of Grecian warriors on the Malian sands

Disporting. You in gymnic lists shall wing

The flying spear, and hurl the massy disk,

Brace on the caestus, and impel the car

To celebrate Leonidas in sight

Of Oeta, witness to his glorious fate.

But fifty vessels deep with laden stores

I first detach, that gen'ral Greece may share

In our superfluous plenty. Want shall waste

Mardonian numbers, while profusion flows

Round Aristides. To protect, my friends,

Th' important freight, three thousand warlike spears

Must be embark'd. You, leaders, now decide,

Who shall with me Thermopylae maintain,

Who join the Grecian camp. First Medon rose:

From thy successful banner to depart

Believe my feet reluctant. From his cross

When I deliver'd Lacedaemon's king,

My life, a boon his friendship once bestow'd,

I then devoted in the face of heav'n

To vindicate his manes. What my joy,

If I survive, if perish, what my praise

To imitate his virtue? Greece demands

In his behalf a sacrifice like this

From me, who, dying, only shall discharge

The debt I owe him; where so well discharge,

As at Asopus in the gen'ral shock

Of Greece and Asia? But the hundred spears,

Which have so long accompany'd my steps

Through all their wand'rings, are the only force

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My wants require. The rest of Locrian arms

Shall with Leonteus thy controul obey.

Pois'd on his shield, and cas'd in Carian steel,

Whence issued lustre like Phoebean rays,

Thus Haliartus: Me, in peasant-weeds,

Leonidas respected. Though my heart

Then by unshaken gratitude was bound,

My humble state could only feel, not act.

A soldier now, my efforts I must join

With godlike Medon's, to avenge the wrongs

Of Sparta's king. But first the soldier's skill,

My recent acquisition, let my arm

Forever lose, if once my heart forget

The gen'rous chief, whose service try'd my arm,

Who made Acanthè mine. My present zeal

His manly justice will forbear to chide.

The priest of Delphi next: Athenian friend,

I have a daughter on Cadmēan plains,

My Amarantha. From no other care,

Than to be nearer that excelling child,

Would I forsake this memorable spot,

Where died the first of Spartans, and a chief

Like thee triumphant celebrates that death.

Then Cleon proffer'd his Eretrian band,

Eight hundred breathing vengeance on a foe,

Who laid their tow'rs in ashes. Lampon next

Presents his Styrians. Brave Nearchus joins

Twelve hundred youths of Chalcis. Tideus last

Of Potidaea twice three hundred shields.

Enough, your number is complete, the son

Of Neocles reminds them. Swift embark;

The gale invites. Sicinus is your guide.

He said, and, moving tow'rds the beach, observes

The embarkation. Each progressive keel

His eye pursues. O'erswelling now in thought,

His own deservings, glory and success,

Rush on his soul like torrents, which disturb

A limpid fount. Of purity depriv'd,

The rill no more in music steals along,

But harsh and turbid through its channel foams.

What sea, what coast, what region have I pass'd

Without erecting trophies, cries the chief

In exultation to Sicinus staid?

Have I not spar'd the vanquish'd to resound

My clemency? Ev'n Persians are my friends.

These are my warriors. Prosp'rous be your sails,

Ye Greeks, enroll'd by me, by me inur'd

To arms and conquest. Under Fortune's wing

Speed, and assist my ancient rival's arm

To crush th' invader. Distant I uphold

The Grecian armies; distant I will snatch

My share of laurels on the plains of Thebes.

Then come, soft peace, of indolence the nurse,

Not to the son of Neocles. On gold

Let rigour look contemptuous; I, return'd

To desert Athens, I, enrich'd with spoils

Of potentates, and kings, will raise her head

From dust. Superb her structures shall proclaim

No less a marvel, than the matchless bird

The glory of Arabia, when, consum'd

In burning frankincense and myrrh, he shews

His presence new, and, op'ning to the sun

Regenerated gloss of plumage, tow'rs,

Himself a species. So shall Athens rise

Bright from her ashes, mistress sole of Greece.

From long Piraean walls her winged pow'r

Shall awe the Orient, and Hesperian worlds.

Me shall th' Olympic festival admit

Its spectacle most splendid. . . . Ah! suppress

Immod'rate thoughts, Sicinus interrupts,

Thou citizen of Athens! Who aspires,

Resides not there secure. Forbear to sting

Her ever-wakeful jealousy, nor tempt

The woes of exile. For excess of worth

Was Aristides banish'd. Be not driv'n

To early trial of thy Persian friends.

O! thou transcendent, thou stupendous man,

From thy Timothea moderation learn,

Which, like the stealing touch of gentle time

O'er canvass, pencil'd by excelling art,

Smooths glaring colours, and imparts a grace

To mightiest heroes. Thus their dazzling blaze

Of glory soft'ning, softens envy's eye.

End of the Twenty-sixth Book.

THE ATHENAID.
BOOK the TWENTY-SEVENTH.

MEANTIME Briareus to the plains of Thebes

Precipitates his course. Arriv'd, he greets

Mardonius. Rumour had already told,

What, now confirm'd, o'erwhelms the troubled chief,

Confounded like the first anointed king

O'er Israel's tribes, when Philistēan din

Of armies pierc'd his borders, and despair

Seduc'd his languid spirit to consult

The sorceress of Endor. Call, he said,

Elēan Hegesistratus—Be swift.

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The summon'd augur comes. To him the son

Of Gobryas: Foe to Sparta, heed my words;

Themistocles possesses on our backs

Th' Oetaean passes. Famine, like a beast,

Noos'd and subservient to that fraudful man,

Who shuns the promis'd contest in the field,

He can turn loose against us. In our front

See Aristides. Fatal is delay.

Fam'd are the oracles of Greece—Alas!

My oracle, Masistius, is no more.

To thee, who hatest all the Spartan breed,

I trust my secret purpose. Be my guide

To some near temple, or mysterious cave,

Whence voices supernatural unfold

The destinies of men. The augur here:

The nearest, but most awful, is a cave

Oracular, Lebadia's ancient boast,

Where Jupiter Trophonius is ador'd,

Not far beyond Copaeae's neighb'ring lake,

Which thou must pass. With costly presents freight,

Such as magnificence like thine requires,

Thy loaded bark; command my service all.

Mardonius issues orders to provide

The bark and presents. Summoning his chiefs,

To them he spake: My absence from the camp

Important functions claim; three days of rule

To Mindarus I cede. Till my return

Let not a squadron pass th' Asopian stream.

This said, with Hegesistratus he mounts

A rapid car. Twelve giants of his guard,

Detach'd before, await him on the banks

Of clear Copaeae. Silver Phoebè spreads

A light, reposing on the quiet lake,

Save where the snowy rival of her hue,

The gliding swan, behind him leaves a trail

In luminous vibration. Lo! an isle

Swells on the surface. Marble structures there

New gloss of beauty borrow from the moon

To deck the shore. Now silence gently yields

To measur'd strokes of oars. The orange groves,

In rich profusion round the fertile verge,

Impart to fanning breezes fresh perfumes

Exhaustless, visiting the sense with sweets,

Which soften ev'n Briareus; but the son

Of Gobryas, heavy with devouring care,

Uncharm'd, unheeding sits. At length began

Th' Elēan augur, in a learned flow

Of ancient lore, to Asia's pensive chief

•…storically thus: Illustrious lord,

Whose nod controuls such multitudes in arms

From lands remote and near, the story learn

Of sage Trophonius, whose prophetic cell

Thou wouldst descend. An architect divine,

He for the Delphians rais'd their Pythian fane.

His recompense imploring from the god,

This gracious answer from the god he drew:

"When thrice my chariot hath its circle run,

"The prime reward, a mortal can obtain,

"Trophonius, shall be thine." Apollo thrice

His circle ran; behold Trophonius dead.

With prophecy his spirit was endu'd,

But where abiding in concealment long

The destinies envelop'd. Lo! a dearth

Afflicts Boeotia. Messengers address

The Delphian pow'r for succour. He enjoins

Their care throughout Lebadian tracts to seek

Oracular Trophonius. Long they roam

In fruitless search; at last a honey'd swarm

Before them flies; they follow, and attain

A cave. Their leader enters, when a voice,

Revealing there the deity, suggests

Cure to their wants, and knowledge of his will

How to be worshipp'd in succeeding times.

To him the name of Jupiter is giv'n.

He to the fatal sisters hath access;

Sees Clotho's awful distaff; sees the thread

Of human life by Lachesis thence drawn;

Sees Atropos divide, with direful shears,

The slender line. But rueful is the mode

Of consultation, though from peril free,

Within his dreary cell. In thy behalf

Thou mayst a faithful substitute appoint.

By Horomazes, no, exclaims the chief!

It is the cause of empire, from his post

Compels the Persian leader; none but he

Shall with your god confer. Transactions past

To Hegesistratus he now details,

His heart unfolding, nor conceals th' event

In Asia's camp, when Aemnestus bold,

The Spartan legate, prompted, as by heav'n,

Him singled out the victim to atone

The death of Sparta's king. Their changing course

Of navigation now suspends their words.

Against the influx of Cephissus, down

Lebadian vales in limpid flow convey'd,

The rowers now are lab'ring. O'er their heads

Hudge alders weave their canopies, and shed

Disparted moonlight through the lattic'd boughs;

Where Zephyr plays, and whisp'ring motion breathes

Among the pliant leaves. Now roseate tincts

Begin to streak the orient verge of heav'n,

Foretok'ning day. The son of Gobryas lands,

Where in soft murmur down a channell'd slope

The stream Hercyna, from Trophonian groves,

Fresh bubbling meets Cephissus. He ascends

With all his train. Th' inclosure, which begirds

The holy purlieus, through a portal, hung

With double valves on obelisks of stone,

Access afforded to the steps of none

But suppliants. Hegesistratus accosts

One in pontific vesture station'd there:

Priest of Boeotia's oracle most fam'd,

Dismiss all fear. Thy country's guardian hail,

This mighty prince, Mardonius. He preserves

Inviolate her fanes; her willing spears

All range beneath his standards. To confer

With your Trophonius, lo! he comes with gifts,

Surpassing all your treasur'd wealth can boast.

His hours are precious, nor admit delay;

Accept his sumptuous off'rings, and commence

The ceremonials due. At first aghast

The holy man survey'd the giant guard.

Soon admiration follow'd at thy form,

Mardonius. Low in stature, if compar'd

With those unshapen savages, sublime

Thou trod'st in majesty of mien, and grace

Of just proportion. Last the gems and gold,

Bright vases, tripods, images and crowns,

The presents borne by those gigantic hands,

With fascinating lustre fix'd the priest

To gaze unsated on the copious store.

Pass through, but unaccompany'd, he said,

Illustrious Persian. Be th' accepted gifts

Deposited within these holy gates.

He leads the satrap to a grassy mount,

Distinct with scatter'd plantains. Each extends

O'er the smooth green his mantle brown of shade.

Of marble white an edifice rotund,

In all th' attractive elegance of art,

Looks from the summit, and invites the feet

Of wond'ring strangers to ascend. The prince,

By his conductor, is instructed thus:

Observe yon dome. Thou first must enter there

Alone, there fervent in devotion bow

Before two statues; one of Genius good,

Of Fortune fair the other. At the word

Mardonius enters. Chance directs his eye

To that expressive form of Genius good,

Whose gracious lineaments, sedately sweet,

Recall Masistius to the gloomy chief.

O melancholy! who can give thee praise?

Not sure the gentle; them thy weight o'erwhelms.

But thou art wholesome to intemp'rate minds,

In vain by wisdom caution'd. In the pool

Of black adversity let them be steep'd,

Then pride, and lust, and fury thou dost tame.

So now Mardonius, by thy pow'r a enthrall'd,

Sighs in these words humility of grief.

If heav'n, relenting, will to me assign

A Genius good, he bears no other name

Than of Masistius. Oh! thou spirit bless'd,

(For sure thy virtue dwells with endless peace)

Canst thou, her seat relinquishing awhile,

Unseen, or visible, protect thy friend

In this momentous crisis of his fate;

Or wilt thou, if permitted? Ah! no more

Think of Mardonius fierce, ambitious, proud,

But as corrected by thy precepts mild;

Who would forego his warmest hopes of fame,

Of pow'r and splendour, gladly to expire,

If so the myriads trusted to his charge

He might preserve, nor leave whole nations fall'n,

A prey to vultures on these hostile plains.

Come, and be witness to the tears which flow,

Sure tokens of sincerity in me,

Not us'd to weep; who, humbled at thy loss,

Melt like a maiden, of her love bereav'd

By unrelenting death. My demon kind,

Do thou descend, and Fortune will pursue

Spontaneous and auspicious on her wheel

A track unchang'd. Here turning, he adores

Her flatt'ring figure, and forsakes the dome.

Along Hercyna's bank they now proceed,

To where the river parts. One channel holds

A sluggish, creeping water, under vaults

Of ebon shade, and soporific yew,

The growth of ages on the level line

Of either joyless verge. The satrap here,

Nam'd and presented by his former guide,

A second priest receives, conductor new

Through night-resembling shadows, which obscure

The sleepy stream, unmoving to the sight,

Or moving mute. A fountain they approach,

One of Hercyna's sources. From the pores

Of spongy rock an artificial vase

Of jetty marble in its round collects

The slow-distilling moisture. Hence the priest

A brimming chalice to Mardonius bears,

Whom in these words he solemnly accosts:

This fount is nam'd of Lethè. Who consults

Our subterranean deity, must quaff

Oblivion here of all preceding thoughts,

Sensations, and affections. Reach the draught;

If such oblivious sweets this cup contains,

I gladly grasp it, cries the chief, and drinks.

Ascending thence, a mazy walk they tread,

Where all the season's florid children shew

Their gorgeous rayment, and their odours breathe

Unspent; while musical in murmur flows

Fast down a steep declivity of bed

Hercyna, winding in a channel new,

Apparent often to the glancing eye

Through apertures, which pierce the loaden boughs

Of golden fruit Hesperian, and th' attire

Of myrtles green, o'ershadowing the banks.

In alabaster's variegated hues,

To bound the pleasing avenue, a fane

Its symmetry discover'd on a plat,

Thick-set with roses, which a circling skreen

Of that fair ash, where cluster'd berries glow,

From ruffling gusts defended. Thither speeds

Mardonius, there deliver'd to a third

Religious minister supreme. Two youths,

In snow-like vesture, and of lib'ral mien,

Sons of Lebadian citizens, attend,

Entit'led Mercuries. The seer address'd

The Persian warrior: In this mansion pure

Mnemosynè is worshipp'd; so in Greece

The pow'r of memory is styl'd. Advance,

Invoke her aid propitious to retain

Whate'er by sounds, or visions, in his cave

The prophet god reveals. The chief comply'd;

The hallow'd image he approach'd, and spake:

Thou art indeed a goddess, I revere.

Now to Mardonius, if some dream or sign

Prognosticate success, and thou imprint

The admonitions of unerring heav'n

In his retentive mind; this arm, this sword

Shall win thy further favour to record

His name and glory on the rolls of time.

This said, with lighter steps he quits the fane.

The Mercuries conduct him to a bath,

Fed from Hercyna's fairer, second source,

In shade sequester'd close. While there his limbs

Are disarray'd of armour, to assume

A civil garment, soon as spotless streams

Have purify'd his frame; the priest, who stands

Without, in ecstacy of joy remarks

The rich Mardonian off'rings on their way,

By servitors transported to enlarge

The holy treasure. Instant he prepares

For sacrifice. A sable ram is slain.

Fresh from ablution, lo! Mardonius comes

In linen vesture, fine and white, as down

Of Paphian doves. A sash of tincture bright,

Which rivall'd Flora's brilliancy of dye,

Engirds his loins; majestical his brows

A wreath sustain; Lebadian sandals ease

His steps. Exchanging thus his martial guise,

Like some immortal, of a gentler mold

Than Mars, he moves. So Phoebus, when he sets,

Lav'd by the nymphs of Tethys in their grot

Of coral after his diurnal toil,

Repairs his splendours, and his rosy track

Of morn resumes. With partial eyes the priest

Explores the victim's entrails, and reports

Each sign auspicious with a willing tongue;

Then to Mardonius: Thee, Boeotia's friend,

Magnificently pious to her gods,

Thee I pronounce a votary approv'd

By this Boeotian deity. Now seek

In confidence the cavern. But the rites

Demand, that first an image thou approach,

Which none, but those in purity of garb,

None, but accepted suppliants of the god,

Can lawfully behold. Above the bath

A rock was hollow'd to an ample space;

Thence issued bubbling waters. See, he said,

The main Hercynian fount, whose face reflects

Yon Daedalēan workmanship, the form

Trophonius bears. Adore that rev'rend beard,

The twisted serpents round that awful staff,

Those looks, which pierce the mysteries of fate.

Next through a winding cavity and vast

He guides the prince along a mossy vault,

Rough with protuberant and tortuous roots

Of ancient woods, which, clothing all above,

In depth shoot downward equal to their height;

Suspended lamps, with livid glympse and faint,

Direct their darkling passage. Now they reach

The further mouth unclosing in a dale

Abrupt; there shadow, never-fleeting, rests.

Rude-featur'd crags, o'erhanging, thence expel

The blaze of noon. Beneath a frowning clift

A native arch, of altitude which tempts

The soaring eagle to construct his nest,

Expands before an excavation deep,

Unbowelling the hill. On either side

This gate of nature, hoary sons of time,

Enlarg'd by ages to protentous growth,

Impenetrable yews augment the gloom.

In height two cubits, on the rocky floor

A parapet was rais'd of marble white,

In circular dimension; this upholds

The weight of polish'd obelisks, by zones

Of brass connected, ornamental fence.

A wicket opens to th' advancing prince;

Steps moveable th' attentive priest supplies;

By whom instructed, to the awful chasm

Below, profound but narrow, where the god

His inspiration breathes, th' intrepid son

Of Gobryas firm descends. His nether limbs

Up to the loins he plunges. Downward drawn,

As by a whirlpool of some rapid flood,

At once the body is from sight conceal'd.

Entranc'd he lies in subterranean gloom,

Less dark than superstition. She, who caus'd

His bold adventure, with her wonted fumes

Of perturbation from his torpid state

Awakes him; rather in a dream suggests

That he is waking. On a naked bank

He seems to stand; before him sleeps a pool,

Edg'd round by desert mountains, in their height

Obscuring heav'n. Without impulsive oars,

Without a sail, spontaneous flies a bark

Above the stagnant surface, which, untouch'd,

Maintains its silence. On the margin rests

The skiff, presenting to the hero's view

An aged fire, of penetrating ken,

His weight inclining on an ebon staff,

With serpents wreath'd, who, beck'ning, thus began:

If, feed of Gobryas, thou wouldst know thy fate,

Embark with me; Trophonius I am call'd.

Th' undaunted chief obeys. In flight more swift

Than eagles, swiftest of the feather'd kind,

Th' unmoving water's central spot they gain.

At once its bosom opens; down they sink

In depth to equal that immane descent

Of Hercules to Pluto, yet perform,

As in a moment, their portentous way.

Around, above, the liquid mass retires,

In concave huge suspended, nor bedews

Their limbs, or garments. Two stupendous valves

Of adamant o'er half the bottom spread;

Them with his mystic rod the prophet smites.

Self-lifted, they a spacious grot expose,

Whose pointed spar is tipt with dancing light,

Beyond Phoebean clear. The Persian looks;

Intelligent he looks. Words, names and things,

Recurring, gather on his anxious mind;

When he, who seems Trophonius: Down this cave

None, but the gods oracular, may pass.

Here dwell the fatal Sisters; at their toil

The Destinies thou see'st. The thread new-drawn

Is thine, Mardonius. Instantly a voice,

Which shakes the grot, and all the concave round,

Sounds Aemnestus. Swift the direful shears

The line dissever, and Mardonius, whirl'd

Back from Trophonian gloom, is found supine

Within the marble parapet, which fenc'd

The cavern's mouth. The watchful priest conducts

The agitated satrap, mute and sad,

Back to Mnemosynè's abode. His eyes

Are sternly fix'd. Now, prince, the seer began,

Divulge, whatever thou hast heard and seen

Before this goddess. Priest, he said, suspend

Thy function now importunate. Remove.

The seer withdrawn, the Persian thus alone:

Then be it so. To luxury and pow'r,

Magnificence and pleasure, I must bid

Farewell. Leonidas let Greece extol,

Me too shall Persia. Goddess, to thy charge

A name, so dearly purchas'd, I consign.

This said, in haste his armour he resumes.

Not as Leonidas compos'd, yet brave

Amid the gloom of trouble, he prefers

Death to dishonour. O'er the holy ground

He pensive treads, a parallel to Saul,

Return'd from Endor's necromantic cell

In sadness, still magnanimously firm

Ne'er to survive his dignity, but face

Predicted ruin, and, in battle slain,

Preserve his fame. Mardonius finds the gates;

His friends rejoins; glides down Cephissian floods;

Copaeae's lake repasses; and is lodg'd

In his own tent by midnight. Sullen there

He sits; disturb'd, he shuns repose; access

Forbids to all: but Lamachus intrudes,

Nefarious counsellor, in fell device

Surpassing fellest tyrants. Now hath night

Upcall'd her clouds, black signal for the winds

To burst their dungeons; cataracts of rain

Mix with blue fires; th' ethereal concave groans;

Stern looks Mardonius on the daring Greek,

Who, in his wiles confiding, thus began:

Supreme o'er nations numberless in arms,

Sole hope of Asia, thy return I greet

With joy. Thy absence hath employ'd my soul

To meditate the means, the certain means

For thee to prosper. Lo! the active son

Of Neocles, who keeps th' Oetaean pass,

Lo! Aristides in the camp of Greece,

Remain thy only obstacles. Her pow'r,

Of them depriv'd, would moulder and disperse,

Devoid of counsel, with an edgless sword.

Uncommon danger stimulates the wise

To search for safety through uncommon paths,

Much more, when pow'r, when empire and renown,

Hang on a crisis. If a serpent's guile

Behind the pillows of such foes might lurk;

If darting thence, his unsuspected sting

Might pierce their bosoms; if the ambient air

Could by mysterious alchymy be chang'd

To viewless poison, and their cups infect

With death; such help would policy disdain?

Hast thou not hardy and devoted slaves?

Try their fidelity and zeal. No life

Can be secure against a daring hand.

Two Grecian deaths confirm thee lord of Greece.

He ceas'd, expecting praise; but honour burns

Fierce in the satrap's elevated soul:

Dar'st thou suggest such baseness to the son

Of Gobryas? furious he exalts his voice;

Guards, seize and strangle this pernicious wolf.

Time but to wonder at his sudden fate

The ready guards afford him, and the wretch

Fit retribution for his crimes receives.

This act of eastern equity expels

The satrap's gloom. Now, Grecian gods, he cries,

Smile on my justice. From th' assassin's point

I guard your heroes. By yourselves I swear,

My preservation, or success, assur'd

By such unmanly turpitude I spurn.

His mind is cheer'd. A tender warmth succeeds,

Predominant in am'rous, eastern hearts,

A balm to grief, and victor mild of rage.

The midnight hour was past, a season dear

To softly-tripping Venus. Through a range

Of watchful eunuchs in apartments gay

He seeks the female quarter of his tent,

Which, like a palace of extent superb,

Spreads on the field magnificence. Soft lutes,

By snowy fingers touch'd, sweet-warbled song

From ruby lips, which harmonize the air

Impregnated with rich Panchaean scents,

Salute him ent'ring. Gentle hands unclasp

His martial harness, in a tepid bath

Lave and perfume his much-enduring limbs.

A couch is strewn with roses; he reclines

In thinly-woven Taffeta. So long

In pond'rous armour cas'd, he scarcely feels

The light and loose attire. Around him smile

Circassian Graces, and the blooming flow'rs

Of beauty cull'd from ev'ry clime to charm.

Lo! in transcending ornament of dress

A fair-one all-surpassing greets the chief;

But pale her lip, and wild her brilliant eye:

Nam'd from Bethulia, where I drew my breath,

I, by a father's indigence betray'd,

Became thy slave; yet noble my descent

From Judith ever-fam'd, whose beauty sav'd

Her native place. Indignant I withstood

Thy passion. Gentle still a master's right

Thou didst forbear, and my reluctant charms

Leave unprophan'd by force. Repuls'd, thy love

Grew cold. Too late contemplating thy worth,

I felt a growing flame, but ne'er again

Could win thy favour. In the Haram's round

Disconsolate, neglected, I have walk'd;

Have seen my gay companions to thy arms

Preferr'd, professing passion far unlike

To mine, Mardonius. Now despair suggests

To give thee proof of undissembled truth,

Which no neglect hath cool'd. To thy success,

Thy glory, my virginity is vow'd.

In this bright raiment, with collected pow'rs

Of beauty, I at Aristides' feet

Will throw me prostrate. To th' alluring face

Of my progenitrix a victim fell

Th' Assyrian captain, Holofernes proud;

So shall thy foe of Athens fall by mine.

The meritorious and heroic deed

Soon will erase the transitory stain.

O! if successful, let Bethulia hope

For thy reviving love. Mardonius starts

In dubious trouble. Whether to chastise

So fierce a spirit, or its zeal admire,

He hesitates. Compassion for the sex

At length prevails, suggesting this reply:

Fell magnanimity! enormous proof

Of such intemp'rate passion! I forgive

While I reject thy proffer'd crime, although

The deed might fix my glory and success;

And in return for thy prepos'trous love

Will safe replace thee in thy native seat

With gifts to raise from indigence thy house.

But never, never from this hour will view

Thy face again, Bethulia. Eunuchs, hear;

Remove, conceal this woman from my sight.

No, thou inhuman, thus Bethulia wild:

This shall remove for ever from thy sight

A woman scorn'd, and terminate her pains.

She said, and struck a poniard through her heart.

With shrieks the Haram sounds; th' afflicted fair,

The eunuchs shudder; when the satrap thus:

Is this another black portent of ill,

Stern Horomazes? or is this my crime?

No, thou art just. My conscious spirit feels

Thy approbation of Mardonius now.

But from his breast the dire event expels

All soft and am'rous cares. His vast command,

His long inaction, and the dread of shame

Recur. He quits the chamber; to his own

Repairing, summons Mindarus, and firm

In aspect speaks: The morning soon will dawn.

Draw down our slingers, archers, and the skill'd

In flying darts to line th' Asopian brink;

Thence gall the Grecians, whose diurnal wants

That flood relieves. Then Mindarus: O chief,

This instant sure intelligence is brought,

That from the isthmus, to supply their camp,

A convoy, rich in plenty, is descry'd

Advancing tow'rds Cithaeron's neighb'ring pass.

Mardonius quick: No moment shall be lost.

Bid Tiridates with five thousand horse

Possess that pass, and, pouring on the plain,

Secure the precious store. This said, he seeks

A short repose, and Mindarus withdraws.

In arms anon to paragon the morn,

The morn new-rising, whose vermillion hand

Draws from the bright'ning front of heav'n serene

The humid curtains of tempestuous night,

Mardonius mounts his courser. On his bank

The godlike figure soon Asopus views.

End of the Twenty-seventh Book.

THE ATHENAID.
BOOK the TWENTY-EIGHTH.

WHILE lamentation for Masistius dead

Depress'd the Persians, undisturb'd the Greeks

To all their camp refreshment had deriv'd

From clear Asopus. To th' accustom'd edge

Of his abounding flood they now resort.

Stones, darts and arrows from unnumber'd ranks,

Along the margin opposite dispos'd

By Mindarus, forbid access. Repulse

Disbands the Greeks. Exulting, he forgets

Cleora; active valour in his breast

Extinguishes the embers, cherish'd long

By self-tormenting memory, and warmth

Of fruitless passion. Present too his chief,

His friend and kinsman, from a fiery steed

Mardonius rules and stimulates the fight,

Like Boreas, riding on a stormy cloud,

Whence issue darts of light'ning, mix'd with hail

In rattling show'rs. The enemies dispers'd,

Embolden Mindarus to ford the stream.

In guidance swift of cavalry expert,

With unresisted squadrons he careers

Along the field. Inviolate the flood

He guards; each hostile quarter he insults.

Now Gobryas' son, unfetter'd from the bonds

Of superstitious terrors, joyful sees

In Mindarus a new Masistius rise;

Nor less the tidings Tiridates sends,

Who in Cithaeron's passes hath despoil'd

The slaughter'd foes, inspire the gen'ral's thoughts,

Which teem with arduous enterprise. The camp

He empties all; beneath whose forming host

The meadow sounds. The native Persians face

Laconia's station, Greek allies oppose

Th' Athenian. All the force of Thebes array'd

Envenom'd Leontiades commands.

Greece in her lines sits tranquil; either host

Expects the other. By their augurs still

Restrain'd, they shun the interdicted ford.

But of the river's plenteous stream depriv'd

By Mindarus, the Grecians fear a dearth

Of that all-cheering element. A rill

Flows from a distant spring, Gargaphia nam'd,

Their sole resource. Nor dread of other wants

Afflicts them less; their convoy is o'erpow'r'd

By Tiridates. Anxious all exhaust

A night disturb'd; the bravest grieve the most,

Lest through severe necessity they quit

Inglorious their position. Morning shines;

When frequent signals from th' external guards,

Near and remote, successive rise. To arms

All rush. Along the spacious public way

From Megara, obscuring dust ascends.

The sound of trampling hoofs, and laden wheels,

With shouts of multitude, is heard. Behold,

Forth from the cloud, a messenger of joy,

Sicinus breaks, of bold auxiliar bands

Forerunner swift, and unexpected aid

In copious stores, at Megara's wide port

New-landed from Thermopylae. The camp

Admits, and hails in rapturous acclaim

Euboean standards, Potidaea's ranks,

The laurell'd priest and hero, Timon sage,

Th' ennobled heir of Lygdamis, and thee,

Melissa's brother, great Oïleus' son,

Friend of Leonidas, thee dear to all,

O brave, and gen'rous Medon! From their tents

The chiefs assemble, when Sicinus spake:

Pausanius, gen'ral of united Greece,

Accept these ample succours from the hand

Of provident Themistocles: Possess'd

Of Oeta's passes, he the Persian host

Now with impenetrable toils besets

Like beasts of prey, entangled by the skill

Of some experienc'd hunter. Thou receive,

Just Aristides, from Timothea's love,

A suit of armour new, in Chalcis fram'd,

Without luxuriant ornament, or gold.

The shield, an emblem of thy soul, displays

Truth, equity and wisdom, hand in hand.

This for her children, and thy own, consign'd,

To her Euboean roof and pious care,

She bids thee lift and conquer. Thou restore

The little exiles in their native homes

To dwell in peace. Her gift, she adds, derives

Its only value from the wearer's worth.

In smiles, like Saturn at the tribute pure

Of fruits and flow'rs in singleness of heart

Paid by religion of the golden age,

Timothea's gift the righteous man receives,

Not righteous more than practic'd to endure

Heroic labours, soon by matchless deeds

To justify the giver. He began:

Confederated warriors, who withstand

A tyrant's pow'r, unanimous confess

Your debt to great Themistocles, the lord

Of all-admir'd Timothea. He and I

Evince the fruits of concord. Ancient foes,

Through her united, cheerful we sustain

Our public charge. From gen'ral union Greece

Expects her safety. Him success hath crown'd

In arms and counsel; whether on the main

His naval flag he spread, or shook the land

With his triumphant step. O, hero-born

Pausanias! glowing with Herculean blood,

Now under thee let Aristides hope

To share success, nor tarnish with disgrace

His armour new. Behold, yon river gleams

With hostile arms. Those standards on the left,

Well-known to Attic eyes, are proudly borne

By native Medes and Persians. Treach'rous Thebes

Lifts her Cadmēan banner on the right.

A second time Mardonius forms his host

To proffer battle. He, perhaps, may ford

Asopus, which Tisamenus, the learn'd

In divination, hath forbid our steps

To pass. Thy former numbers swift arrange.

New from a march let these auxiliars guard

The camp. To him Pausanias thus apart:

Athenian, hear: Your citizens are vers'd

In this Barbarian warfare, yet unknown

To us. Let Spartans and Athenians change

Their station. You, an adversary try'd

At Marathon, and foil'd, will best oppose.

To vanquish Grecians we accustom'd long

Will yon Boeotians and Thessalians face.

Such is my will. Concise the Attic sage:

Thou hast commanded what my willing thoughts

Themselves devis'd, but waited first to hear.

Well canst thou fight, Pausanias. I will strive

To imitate thy deeds and thy renown,

On whose increase our liberty and laws

Depend. This said, they part. Behind the rear

Soon from the left th' Athenians, from the right

The Spartans file. Their stations they exchange,

Not by Mardonius unperceiv'd. He moves

His Medes and Persians to the post of Thebes,

Whence still the Spartan phalanx they confront,

The Thebans still th' Athenian. This observ'd,

Pausanias swift to Aristides sends

Strict charge his old position to resume.

Now indignation high through all the tribes

Of Athens rages. Noble pride, and sense

Of just desert, in exclamation fierce

Break from th' exalted populace, who claim

Their soil for parent. Gods! from wing to wing

Must we like servile mercenary bands,

Like Helots, slaves to Lacedaemon born,

Be hurry'd thus obsequious to controul

From an imperious Spartan? Tegea first

Contested our prerogative. The pride

Of Sparta next removes us from the post,

Assign'd by public judgment; we comply.

Must we at her contemptuous nod resume

The station we forsook? Defending Greece,

Ourselves meanwhile deserted and betray'd,

Twice have we lost our city. What is left

Of our abandon'd residence, but dust?

Let Greece defend herself. Let us remove

For the last time our standards, hoist our sails,

Our floating empire fix on distant shores,

Our household gods, our progeny, and name,

On some new soil establish, sure to find

None so ingrate as this. The Athenians thus

Swell with ingenuous ire, as ocean boils,

Disturb'd by Eurus, and the rude career

Of Boreas, threat'ning furious to surmount

All circumscription. But as oft a cloud,

Distilling gentle moisture as it glides,

Dissolves the rigour of their boist'rous wings,

Till o'er the main serenity returns;

So from the mouth of Aristides fall

Composing words. Insensibly he sooths

Their justly-irritated minds, and calms

Their just resentment. Righteousness and truth,

How prevalent your efforts, when apply'd

By placid wisdom! In these strains he spake:

Ye men of Athens, at Laconia's call

To meet the flow'r of Asia's host in fight

Do ye repine? A station, which implies

Pre-eminence of Attic worth, a task

Of all most glorious, which the martial race

Of Sparta shuns, and you should covet most,

Ye Marathonian victors? In the fight

Of Greece, who trembles at a Median garb,

You are preferr'd for valour. Arms the same,

The same embroider'd vestment on their limbs

Effeminate, the same unmanly souls,

Debas'd by vices and monarchal rule,

The Medes retain, as when their vanquish'd ranks

Fled heretofore. With weapons often try'd,

With confidence by victories increas'd,

Not now for liberty and Greece alone

You march to battle; but to keep unspoil'd

Your trophies won already, and the name,

Which Marathon and Salamis have rais'd,

Preserve unstain'd; that men may ever say,

Not through your leaders, not by fortune there

You triumph'd, but by fortitude innate,

And lib'ral vigour of Athenian blood.

He said and march'd. All follow mute through love

Of Aristides, inexpressive love,

Which melts each bosom. Solemn they proceed,

Though lion-like in courage, at his call

Meek and obedient, as the fleecy breed

To wonted notes of Pan's conducting pipe.

Arriv'd, disbanded, in their sep'rate tents

Cecropia's tribes exhaust a tedious night,

Unvisited by sleep. The morning breaks;

Instead of joy to gratulate her light

The tone of sadness from dejected hearts,

Combining sighs and groans in murmur deep,

Alarms the leader. Aristides, shew

Thy countenance amongst us, hasty spake

The warrior-poet ent'ring: All thy camp

Enthusiastic sorrow hath o'erwhelm'd,

And ev'ry heart unbrac'd. By earliest dawn

Each left his restless couch. Their first discourse

Was calm, and fill'd with narratives distinct

Of thy accomplishments, and worth. At length

A soldier thus in agitation spake:

"Yet, O most excellent of Gods! O Jove!

"This is the man, we banish'd! In thy sight

"The most excelling man, whose sole offence

"Was all-transcending merit, from his home

"Our impious votes expell'd, by envy's spight

"Seduc'd. We drove him fugitive through Greece;

"Where still he held ungrateful Athens dear,

"For whose redemption from her sloth he rous'd

"All Greece to arms." The soldier clos'd in floods

Of anguish. Instant through the concourse ran

Contagious grief; as if the fiend Despair,

From his black chariot, wheeling o'er their heads

In clouds of darkness, dropp'd his pois'nous dews

Of melancholy down to chill the blood,

Unnerve the limbs, and fortitude dissolve.

Speed, Aristides. By th' immortal pow'rs!

The feeblest troop of Persians in this hour

Might overcome the tame, desponding force

Of thy dear country, mistress long confess'd

Of eloquence and arts, of virtue now

Through thy unerring guidance. Here the sage:

With-hold thy praise, good Aeschylus—Be swift,

Arrange my fellow citizens in arms

Beneath each ensign of the sev'ral tribes.

I will appear a comforter, a friend,

Their public servant. Aeschylus withdraws.

Soon Aristides, in his armour new,

Timothea's gift, advances from his tent.

Should from his throne th' Omnipotent descend

In visitation of the human race,

While dreading his displeasure; as to earth

All heads would bend in reverential awe,

Contrite and conscious of their own misdeeds;

So look th' Athenians, though in all the pomp

Of Mars array'd, and terrible to half

The world in battle. Down their corslets bright

Tears trickle, tears of penitence and shame,

To see their injur'd patriot chief assume

In goodness heav'n's whole semblance, as he moves

Observant by, and through the weeping ranks

From man to man his lib'ral hand extends,

Consoling. No resentment he could shew,

Who none had felt. Ascending now on high,

He thus address'd the penitential throng.

Rate not too high my merit, nor too low

Your own depreciate. Error is the lot

Of man; but lovely in the eye of heav'n

Is sense of error. Better will you fight,

As better men from these auspicious tears,

Which evidence your worth, and please the gods.

With strength and valour, equity of mind

Uniting doubles fortitude. Your wives,

Your progeny and parents, laws and rites,

Were ne'er so well secur'd. The warlike bard

Rose next: Requested by the sev'ral tribes,

In their behalf I promise to thy rule

All acquiescence. Bid them fight, retreat,

Maintain, or yield a station; bid them face

Innumerable foes, surmount a foss

Deep as the sea, or bulwarks high as rocks;

Subordination, vigilance, contempt

Of toil and death, thy dictates shall command.

Th' Oïlean hero, Timon, and the seed

Of Lygdamis, are present, who encamp'd

Among th' Athenians. They admire the chief,

Nor less the people. While the term of morn

Was passing thus, a summons to his tent

Calls Aristides. Aemnestus there

Salutes him: Attic friend, a new event

In Sparta's quarter is to thee unknown;

From me accept th' intelligence. The sun

Was newly ris'n, when o'er th' Asopian flood

An Eastern herald pass'd. Bèhind him tow'r'd

A giant-siz'd Barbarian. He approach'd

Our camp; before Pausanias brought, he spake:

"I am Briareus, of Mardonian guards

"Commander. Through my delegated mouth

"Thus saith the son of Gobryas: I have heard

"Among the Greeks your prowess vaunted high,

"Ye men of Sparta, that in martial ranks

"You either kill, or perish; but I find,

"Fame is a liar. I expected long,

"You would defy me on the field of war.

"Have I not seen you shift from wing to wing,

"The task imposing on th' Athenians twice

"To face the Medes and Persians; while yourselves

"Sought with our servants to contend in arms,

"Ye brave in name alone! Since you decline

"To challenge us, we, prime of eastern blood,

"With equal numbers challenge you to prove,

"That you possess, what rumour hath proclaim'd,

"The boldest hearts in Greece. Acknowledge else

"Your boasted valour bury'd in the grave

"With your Leonidas, o'erthrown and slain."

Pausanias gave no answer, not through fear,

But humour torpid and morose, which wrapp'd

In clouds of scorn his brow. Consulting none,

With silent pride the giant he dismiss'd.

The challenger, in triumph turning back,

Repass'd the river. Aemnestus paus'd;

A second messenger appear'd. Behold,

In blooming vigour, flush'd by rapid haste,

Young Menalippus, from the rev'rend seer

Megistias sprung. Athenian chief, he said,

Bring down thy active, missile-weapon'd troops;

On their immediate help Pausanias calls.

A cloud of hostile cavalry invests

Laconia's quarter. Javelins, arrows, darts,

In sheets discharg'd, have choak'd our last resource,

Gargaphia's fountain, and our heavy bands

Perplex and harrass. Aristides hears,

And issues swift his orders, while the youth

Continues thus: Thou knew'st of old my sire,

Who at Thermopylae expir'd. The just

Consort together. Aristides thus:

Ingenuous youth, for Greece thy father bled

A spotless victim, but for ever lives

Companion with Leonidas in fame.

By heav'n protected, thou shalt live to see

Their death aton'd; the period is not far.

Come on; my force is ready. Medon arms

With Haliartus, once the shepherd-swain

In Oeta's pass to Menalippus known,

Whom both embrace with gratulation kind.

All march, but reach not Sparta's distant wing,

Before the Persians, sated with success,

Fil'd back to join Mardonius. Secret he

Was communing with Mirzes, most renown'd

Among the Magi. Thus the satrap clos'd:

Through each occurrence undisguis'd, O sage!

My circumstantial narrative hath run,

From where I enter'd first Trophonian ground,

Till my descent and vision in the cave.

Speak frankly, Mirzes—nor believe thy words,

Whatever black presages they contain,

Subjoin'd to all Trophonius hath foretold,

Can change my firm resolves, or blunt my sword.

Solicitude for Persia to excess

Misled thee, satrap, to that graven god,

Rejoins the Magus, where, if ought besides

The craft of Grecian, mercenary priests,

It was the demon Arimanius rul'd.

He long hath prompted that Elēan seer,

Who blunts thy sword by divination false.

What thou dost vision call was empty dream;

Imagination heated, and disturb'd,

A texture wild and various, intermix'd

With ill-match'd images of things, which last

Oppress'd thy mind. Thy own distemper fram'd

Th' unreal grot, where Destinies of air

In apparition cut thy vital thread;

Their act was thine, the oracle thy own,

All vague creation of thy erring sleep.

Briareus enters. At his tidings glad,

Which ostentation sounded, thus exults

Mardonius: Sayst thou, Lacedaemon's chief

Was mute, when my defiance shook his ear?

Hence to the winds, ye auguries and signs!

Ye dreams and mysteries of Greece, avaunt!

Thou, Horomazes, not in marble fanes,

Nor woods oracular, and caves, dost dwell.

It is the pow'r of evil there misguides

Insensate mortals, and misguided me.

O, Artemisia! now shall Gobryas' son

Look only, where no mystery can lurk,

On ev'ry manly duty. Nothing dark

The tracks of honour shades. To chiefs select,

Greek and Barbarian summon'd, he reveals

His fix'd resolves in council. They disperse

To execute his will. Among the rest

Young Alexander, Macedonia's lord,

Speeds to his quarters in the solemn bow'r

Of Dircè. There Mardonius had decreed

A cenotaph of marble, newly-rais'd

To his deplor'd Masistius. There the queen

Of Macedon, Phoebean Timon's child,

Bright Amarantha, like an ev'ning bird,

Whose trill delights a melancholy grove,

Oft with harmonious skill in Delphian strains,

Th' ingenuous practice of her maiden days,

Sung of her father, and Masistius good,

That friend, that known protector. She her lute

Was now in cadence with Dircaean rills

Attuning. Vocal melody she breath'd,

Which at another season might have won

Her lord from sadness. Sighing, he her song

Thus interrupts: Ah! consort dear, as fair,

I come from Persia's council; where the son

Of Gobryas, urg'd by fear of sudden want

Through his wide host, nor animated less

By Spartan silence at the challenge proud

His herald bore, determines to reject

The augur's warnings. O'er the stream he means

To lead th' embattled nations, and surprise

Ere dawn, at least assail the camp of Greece

In ev'ry station. If she quits her lines,

Then will his num'rous cavalry surround

Her heavy phalanx on the level space.

O that my ancestor had never left

His Grecian home in Argos, nor acquir'd

Emathia's crown! I never then compell'd,

Had borne reluctant arms against a race

By friendship link'd, affinity, and blood,

With me and mine. What horror! cries the queen,

While fear surmises, that my husband's sword

May blindly cut my father's vital thread.

But not alone such parricide to shun

Should wake thy efforts. Alexander, no;

Thou must do more. Our mutual words recall,

When thou to Athens by Mardonius sent

Didst from thy fruitless ambassy rejoin

Me in Trachiniae; whence the Barb'rous chief

Renew'd his march to lay Cecropian domes

In fresh destruction. "What a lot is mine,

"Thou saidst? If Xerxes triumph, I become

"A slave in purple. Should the Greeks prevail,

"Should that Euboean conqueror, the son

"Of Neocles be sent th' Athenian scourge . . . .

I interrupted thus: "Awhile, dear lord,

"We must submit to wear the galling mask,

"Necessity imposes. New events

"Are daily scatter'd by the restless palm

"Of fortune. Some will prove propitious. Wise,

"To all benignant, Aristides serv'd

"By us in season will befriend our state."

Behold that season come; let Grecian blood,

Which warms thy veins, inspire thy prudent tongue

This night th' Athenian hero to apprise

Of all these tidings. Thus secure the Greeks

Against surprisal; timely thus oblige

The first of men, and magnify thy name

In Greece for ages. Here the youthful king:

Though by oppressive Xerxes forc'd to war,

Shall I abuse the confidence repos'd

By great Mardonius, qualify'd to win

Regard at first, which intercourse augments?

I will do all by honour's rules allow'd,

Will act a neutral part, withdraw my troops,

Ev'n at the hazard of my crown and life,

If such my queen's injunction. Ah! forbear

To frown; what means this flushing of thy cheek?

Must I betray Mardonius to his foes?

She spake abrupt; he started at her look:

If forc'd obedience to a tyrant binds,

If more, than I, Mardonius holds thy heart,

Who has thy dearest confidence abus'd,

Thou wilt discredit my accusing tongue.

Could from this empty monument the shade

Of just Masistius rise, his awful voice

Would verify a story, till this hour

From thee conceal'd. My virgin hand in blood

Of one Barbarian miscreant once I stain'd;

Not to pollute my hymeneal state,

Nor lay Mardonius gasping at my feet

Like Mithridates in the streets of Thebes,

This hateful camp for Delphi I forsook,

Fled from a lawless and presumptuous flame,

Insulting me, thy queen, who boast descent

From holy Timon. While for his behoof

Collecting Greeks against their country's cause,

Thyself was absent, and Mardonius left

My only guardian; scorning every tie,

His daring importunity of love

Assail'd thy consort's ear. What hope, what trust

In such Barbarians? All their faith expir'd

With good Masistius. Should the Greeks be foil'd,

How long will Macedon thy realm, how long

Will Amarantha be securely held

Against a satrap, whose ungovern'd will

May covet both? Of this, O prince, be sure,

Her part of shame will Amarantha bear

But brief shall be its date. The poniard still,

Which once preserv'd my honour, I possess

To cut my period of dishonour short.

The prince impatient, yet attentive, heard

Her words; when thus the measure of his wrath

From his full bosom rapidly o'erflow'd.

O impious breach of hospitable ties!

O violation base of rights and laws,

Exacting swift revenge from heav'n and man,

From me the first! Unparallel'd in form,

O like the sister of thy Delphian god

Immaculate! Did sacrilegious hands

This pure abode of chastity assail

With profanation? Less a friend to Greece,

Than foe to false Mardonius, now I go.

He said, and order'd forth his swiftest steed.

By moon-light, twinkling on a shaded track,

He urg'd his secret way beyond the springs

Asopian; whence an outlet short and close

Through mount Cithaeron to th' adjacent line

Of Aristides led. Meantime the sound

Of steps advancing Amarantha heard;

She heard, and saw Mardonius. He his pace

Stopp'd short, inclining with obeisance low

His stately frame. Through terror and amaze

To earth she rigid grew, of pow'r to fly

Depriv'd. He distant spake: Imperial dame,

That he offended once, Mardonius makes

A penitent confession. O! that fault

To no innate discourtesy impute,

But Eastern manners, not as Grecian pure;

The ignorance which err'd, by thee is chang'd

To veneration. From my presence here,

Which ne'er before intruded on this seat

Of thy retirement, do not too severe

A new offence interpret; rest assur'd,

A solemn cause impels. He silent waits,

Nor moves; till, gliding silently away,

Like Dian fair and chaste, but less severe,

The queen withdrew, and tow'rds a gallant chief,

Perhaps by her devices near his fall,

Thus far relented; for the private wrong

The frank atonement rais'd a generous sigh;

Against the public enemy of Greece,

Unquenchable she burn'd. Now left alone,

Before the cenotaph he kneel'd and spake:

To-morrow, O! to-morrow let my helm

Blaze in thy beams auspicious, spirit bright,

Whose name adorns this honorary tomb!

The weight of Asia's mighty weal, the weight

Of fifty myriads on thy friend augments

From hour to hour. Yet purg'd of gloomy thoughts,

Clear of ambition, save to win the palm

Of victory for Xerxes, I approach

Thy suppliant. Thou an intercessor pure

For me, deceiv'd by Grecian seers and gods,

Before the throne of Horomazes stand,

That he may bless my standards, if alone

To guard so many worshippers, and spread

By their success his celebrated name

Through each Hesperian clime. Now grant a sign,

Masistius, ere thy faithful friend depart,

Fix'd, as he is, to vanquish, or to fall.

He ceas'd. Quick rapture dims his cheated eyes.

He sees in thought a canopy of light,

Descending o'er the tomb. In joy he speeds

To preparation for the destin'd march.

End of the Twenty-eighth Book.

THE ATHENAID.
BOOK the TWENTY-NINTH.

AMONG the Greeks their first nocturnal watch

Was near its period. From Laconia's wing

Return'd, th' Athenian leader thus bespake

Sicinus: Worthy of my trust, give ear.

Within six hours the army will decamp

To chuse a friendlier station; so the chiefs

In gen'ral council, as Gargaphia choak'd

Withholds her wonted succour, have resolv'd.

At Juno's fane, yet undespoil'd, though near

Plataea's ruins, ev'ry band is charg'd

To reassemble. . . . Suddenly appears

A centinel, who speaks: A stranger, near

The trenches waits, thee; us in peaceful words

Saluting, he importunate requires

Thy instant presence. Aristides hastes;

To whom the stranger: Bulwark of this camp,

Hear, credit, weigh, the tidings which I bear.

Mardonius, press'd by fear of threat'ning want,

At night's fourth watch the fatal stream will pass,

Inflexibly determin'd, though forbid

By each diviner, to assail your host

With all his numbers. I against surprise

Am come to warn you; thee alone I trust,

My name revealing. I, O man divine!

I, who thus hazard both my realm, and life,

Am Alexander, Macedonian friend

Of Athens. Kindly on a future day

Remember me. He said, and spurr'd his steed

Back through the op'ning of Cithaeron's hill.

By Aristides instantly detach'd,

Sicinus calls each leader to attend

Pausanias. Attica's great captain joins

The council full. His tidings he relates,

Concluding thus with exhortation sage:

We destitute of water had resolv'd

To change our station. Now without a pause

We must anticipate th' appointed hour

For this retreat, nor ling'ring tempt the force

Of squadrons swift to intercept our march.

All move your standards. Let Mardonius bring

A host discourag'd by their augur's voice;

Who are forbid to pass the fatal stream,

But are compell'd by famine and despair

To inauspicious battle. We to heav'n

Obedient, heav'n's assistance shall obtain.

A situation, safeguard to our flanks

Against superior and surrounding horse,

In sight of burnt Plataea, of her fanes

Defac'd, and violated gods, I know;

There will assure you conquest. All assent.

At once the diff'rent Grecians, who compose

The center, lift their ensigns. O'er the plain

First swiftly tow'rds Plataean Juno's dome

Speeds Adimantus. In array more slow

The rest advance. Cleander guards the rear;

Brave youth, whom chance malicious will bereave

Of half the laurels to his temples due.

Th' Athenians arm delib'rate; in whose train

Illustrious Medon ranks a faithful troop,

His hundred Locrians. Haliartus there,

There Timon's few, but gen'rous Delphians stand,

By Aristides all enjoin'd to watch

Laconia's host. That sternly-tutor'd race,

To passion cold, he knew in action slow,

In consultation torpid. Anxious long

He waits, and fears the eyelids of the morn,

Too soon unclosing, may too much reveal.

Sicinus, hast'ning to Laconia's camp,

Finds all confus'd, subordination lost

In altercation, wond'rous in that breed

Of discipline and manners, nor less strange,

Than if the laws of nature in the sky

Dissolv'd, should turn the moon and planets loose

From their accustom'd orbits, to obey

The sun no longer. When his first command

Pausanias issu'd for the march, nor thought

Of disobedience to disturb his pride;

One leader, Amompharetus, whose band

Of Pitanè rever'd him, as the first

Among the brave, refusal stern oppos'd,

Protesting firm, he never would retreat

Before Barbarians. Aemnestus swift,

Callicrates and others, long approv'd

In arms, entreat the Spartan to submit,

Nor disconcert the salutary plan

Of gen'ral council. Sullen he replies:

Not of that council, I will ne'er disgrace

The Spartan name. But all the Greeks withdrawn

Expect our junction at Saturnia's dome,

Callicrates and Aemnestus plead.

Would'st thou expose thy countrymen to face

Unaided yonder multitude of Medes,

Untry'd by us in combat? Yes, rejoins

The pertinacious man, ere yield to flight.

His troop applauded. Now contention harsh

Resounded high, exhausting precious hours,

The Spartan march retarding; when arriv'd

Sicinus witness to the wild debate.

At length Pausanias knit his haughty brow

At Amompharetus, and spake: Weak man,

Thou art insane. The chastisement thy due,

Our time allows not. Instant march, or stay

Behind and perish. In his two-fold grasp

The restive Spartan lifting from the ground

A pond'rous stone, before the gen'ral's feet

Plac'd it, and thus: Against dishonest flight

From strangers vile, I rest my suffrage there,

Nor will forsake it. To Sicinus turn'd

Pausanias: Tell th' Athenians what thou see'st.

I by Cithaeron's side to Juno's fane

Am hast'ning; charge their phalanx to proceed.

Sicinus back to Aristides flies.

His ready phalanx from the lines he draws,

Wing'd with his horse and bowmen; yet his course

Suspends at Sparta's camp. There sullen, fix'd

Like some old oak's deep-rooted, knotted trunk,

Which hath endur'd the tempest-breathing months

Of thrice a hundred winters, yet remains

Unshaken, there amidst his silent troop

Sat Amompharetus. To him the sage:

Unwise, though brave, transgressing all the laws

Of discipline, though Spartan born and train'd;

Arise, o'ertake thy gen'ral and rejoin.

Thy country's mercy by some rare exploit

Win to forgive thy capital default,

Excess of courage. Where Pausanias, arm'd

With pow'r unlimited in war, where all

The Spartan captains in persuasion fail'd,

Requir'd not less than Jove himself, or Jove

In Aristides to prevail. Uprose

The warrior, late inflexible; yet slow,

In strictest regularity of march,

Led his well-order'd files. Correcting thus

The erring Spartan, Aristides swept

Across the plain to fill the gen'ral host.

Not yet the twilight, harbinger of morn,

Had overcome the stars. The Persian scouts,

Who rang'd abroad, observing that no sound

Was heard, no watch-word through the Grecian lines,

Adventur'd nigh, and found an empty space.

Swift they appris'd Mardonius, who had form'd

His whole array. Encircled by his chiefs

Greek and Barbarian, first he gave command,

That ev'ry hand provide a blazing torch

To magnify his terrors, and with light

Facilitate pursuit; then gladsome thus

Address'd his friends of Thessaly and Thebes:

Now Larissaean Thorax, and the rest

Of Aleuadian race; now Theban lords,

Judge of the Spartans justly. Vaunted high

For unexampled prowess, them you saw

First change their place, imposing on the sons

Of Athens twice the formidable task

To face my chosen Persians; next they gave

To my defiance no reply, and last

Are fled before me. Can your augurs shew

A better omen, than a foe dismay'd?

But, kind allies, to you my friendly care

Shall now be prov'd. These thunderbolts of war,

As you esteem them, will Mardonius chuse

For his opponents. Level your attack

Entire against th' Athenians. None I dread;

Yet by the sun less terrible to me

Is that Pausanias, head of Sparta's race,

Than Aristides. Him Masistius lov'd;

If you o'erthrow, preserve him; in the name

Of your own gods I charge you. Mithra, shine

On me no longer, if in grateful warmth

Confessing ev'ry benefit receiv'd,

I do not clasp that guardian of my friend!

Now, Persians, mount your bold Nisaean steeds,

Alert your targets grasp, your lances poise;

The word is Cyrus. Royal spirit! look

On me, deriv'd from thy illustrious blood,

Yet not in me illustrious, if this day

My hand, or courage faint. Look down on these,

Sons of thy matchless veterans. The fire,

Which at thy breath o'erspread the vanquish'd East,

Light in their offs'pring; that the loud report

Of their achievements on Asopian banks,

Far as the floods of Ganges may proclaim

The western world a vassal to thy throne.

He said, and spurr'd his courser. Through the ford

He dashes, follow'd by th' impetuous speed

Of tall equestrian bands in armour scal'd

With gold, on trappings of embroider'd gloss

Superbly seated. Persians next and Medes

Advance, an infantry select, whose mail

Bright-gilt, or silver'd o'er, augments the light

Of sparkling brands, innumerably wav'd

By nations, plunging through the turbid flood

In tumult rude, emblazing, as they pass,

The skies, the waters, and with direst howl

Distracting both. Like savage wolves they rush,

As with ferocious fangs to rend the Greeks,

To gnaw their flesh, and satiate in their blood

The greedy thirst of massacre. In chief

Here Mindarus commands, by Midias join'd

And Tiridates, powerless all to curb,

Much more to marshal such Barbarian throngs,

Which, like a tumbling tide on level strands,

When new the moon impels it, soon o'erwhelm'd

Th' Asopian mead; or like the mightier surge,

When ireful Neptune strikes the ocean's bed

Profound. Upheav'd, the bottom lifts and rolls

A ridge of liquid mountains o'er th' abodes

Of some offending nation; while the heav'ns

With coruscation red his brother Jove

Inflames, and rocks with thunder's roar the poles.

Th' auxiliar Greeks compact and silent march

In strength five myriads. In arrangement just

The foot by Leontiades, the wings

Of horse by Thorax and Emathia's king

Were led. Now, long before th' unwieldy mass

Of his disorder'd multitude advanc'd,

Mardonius, rushing through the vacant lines

Of Lacedaemon, tow'rds Cithaeron bent

His swift career. Faint rays began to streak

The third clear morning of that fruitful month,

The last in summer's train. Immortal day!

Which all the Muses consecrate to fame.

O thou! exalted o'er the laurell'd train,

High as the sweet Calliopè is thron'd

Above her sisters on the tuneful mount,

O father, hear! Great Homer, let one ray

From thy celestial light an humble son

Of thine illuminate; lest freedom mourn

Her chosen race dishonour'd in these strains.

Thou too, my eldest brother, who enjoy'st

The paradise thy genius hath portray'd,

Propitious smile. Lend vigour to a Muse,

Who in her love of freedom equals thine,

But to sustain her labours from thy store

Must borrow language, sentiment and verse.

Cithaeron's ridge, from where Asopus rose,

Stretch'd to Plataea, with a southern fence

Confining one broad level, which the floods

From their Hesperian head in eastward flow

Meandring parted. O'er the mountain's foot

His course Pausanias destin'd, where the soil

Abrupt and stony might the dread career

Of Persia's cavalry impede. His ranks,

Accompany'd by Tegea's faithful breed,

Had measur'd now ten furlongs of their march

Half o'er the plain to reach the friendly ground;

Then halted near an Eleusinian dome

Of Ceres; thence they mov'd, but timely first

Were join'd by Amompharetus. At length

The chosen track was gain'd. Pausanias cast

His eyes below first northward, and survey'd

Between the river and his empty camp

A blaze involving all the plain. The yell

Of mouths Barbarian, of unnumber'd feet

Th' impetuous tread, which crush'd the groaning turf,

The neigh of horses, and their echoing hoofs,

Th' insulting clash of shields and sabres, shook

The theatre of mountains; hollow-voic'd,

Their cavities rebellow'd, and enlarg'd

The hideous sound. His eyes the orient dawn

Attracted next. Saturnia's roof he view'd,

But distant still, around whose sacred walls

The first-departed Grecians stood in arms

Beneath wide-floating banners, wish'd more nigh.

There was the Genius of Plataea seen

By fancy's ken, a hov'ring mourner seen,

O'er his renown'd, but desolated seat,

One mass of ruins mountainous. He mark'd

Th' Athenians traversing the meads below

In full battalia. Resolute, sedate,

Without one shield in disarray, they mov'd

To join the gen'ral host. Beyond the stream

In prospect rose the battlements of Thebes;

Whose sons perfidious, but in battle firm,

With phalanges of other hostile Greeks

Spread on the bank, and menace to surmount

The shallow current for some dire attempt.

To Aemnestus, marching by his side,

Pausanias turns; the army he commands

To halt; while, mast'ring all unmanly fear,

His haughty phlegm serenely thus fulfils

A leader's function: Spartan, we in vain

Precipitate our junction with allies

At Juno's distant fane; the hour is past;

The Pitanēan mutineer the cause.

Seest thou yon Persian squadrons? They precede

The whole Barbarian multitude. The storm

Is gath'ring nigh; we sep'rate must abide

The heavy weight of this unequal shock,

Unless th' Athenians, still in sight, impart

A present aid. A herald swift he sends

To Aristides, with this weighty charge:

"All Greece is now in danger, and the blood

"Of Hercules in me. Athenian help

"Is wanted here, their missile-weapon'd force."

Last he address'd Tisamenus: Provide

The sacrifice for battle—Warriors, form.

Slain is the victim; but th' inspecting seer

Reveals no sign propitious. Now full nigh

The foremost Persian horse discharge around

Their javelins, darts, and arrows. Sparta's chief

In calm respect of inauspicious heav'n

Directs each soldier at his foot to rest

The passive shield, submissive to endure

Th' assault, and watch a signal from the gods.

A second time unfavorable prove

The victim's entrails. Unremitted show'rs

Of pointed arms distribute wounds and death.

Oh! discipline of Sparta! Patient stands

The wounded soldier, sees a comrade fall,

Yet waits permission from his chief to shield

His own, or brother's head. Among the rest

Callicrates is pierc'd; a mortal stroke

His throat receives. Him celebrate, O muse!

Him in historic rolls deliver'd down

To admiration of remotest climes

Through latest ages. These expiring words

Beyond Olympian chaplets him exalt,

Beyond his palms in battle: Not to die

For Greece, but dying, ere my sword is drawn,

Without one action worthy of my name,

I grieve. He said, and fainting on the breast

Of Aemnestus, breath'd in spouting blood

His last, departing thy attendant meet,

Leonidas, in regions of the bless'd.

A second victim bleeds; the gath'ring foes

To multitude are grown; the show'rs of death

Increase; then melted into flowing grief

Pausanian pride. He, tow'rds the fane remote

Of Juno lifting his afflicted eyes,

Thus suppliant spake: O Goddess! let my hopes

Be not defeated, whether to obtain

A victory so glorious, or expire

Without dishonour to Herculean blood.

Amidst the pray'r Tegēan Chileus, free

From stern controul of Lacedaemon's laws,

No longer waits inactive; but his band

Leads forth, and firmly checks th' insulting foe.

The sacrifice is prosp'rous, and the word

For gen'ral onset by Pausanias giv'n.

Then, as a lion, from his native range

Confin'd a captive long, if once his chain

He breaks, with mane erect and eyes of fire

Asserts his freedom, rushing in his strength

Resistless forth; so Sparta's phalanx turns

A face tremendous on recoiling swarms

Of squadron'd Persians, who to Ceres' fane

Are driv'n. But there Mardonius, like the god

Of thunders ranging o'er th' ethereal vault

Thick clouds on clouds impregnated with storms,

His chosen troops embattles. Bows and darts

Rejecting, gallantly to combat close

They urge undaunted efforts, and to death

Their ground maintain, in courage, or in might

Not to the Greeks inferior, but in arms,

In discipline and conduct. Parties small,

Or single warriors, here with vigour wield

The battle-ax and sabre; others rush

Among the spears, to wrench away, or break

By strength of hands, the weapons of their foes.

But fiercest was the contest, where sublime

The son of Gobryas from a snow-white steed

Shot terror. There selected warriors charg'd,

A thousand vet'rans, by their fathers train'd,

Who shar'd renown with Cyrus. On the right,

Close to his gen'ral's side, Briareus grasp'd

A studded mace, Pangaeus on the left,

Nam'd from a Thracian hill. The bristly front

Of Sparta's phalanx, with intrepid looks

Mardonius fac'd, and thunder'd out these words:

Come, twice-defy'd Pausanias, if thou hear'st;

Thy Spartan prowess on Mardonius try.

Pausanias heard; but shunn'd retorting words,

In saturnine disdain laconic thus

His men addressing: Yours the soldier's part,

The gen'rals mine; advance not, but receive

These loose Barbarians on your steady points.

Not one of Persia's breed, though early train'd,

So strong a javelin as Mardonius lanc'd,

Or in its aim so true. Three brothers grac'd

The foremost line of Sparta, natives all

Of sweet Amyclae, all in age and arms

Mature, their splendid lineage from the stock

Of Tyndarus deriving. Them on earth

Three javelins, whirl'd successive, laid supine,

An effort of Mardonius. Three in rank

Behind partake the same resistless doom,

Three bold companions in the hardy chace

Of boars on green Taÿgetus. Supply'd

With weapons new, the phalanx still to gore

He perseveres unweary'd, not unlike

Some irritated porcupine, of size

Portentous, darting his envenom'd quills

Through each assailant. In Laconia's front

So many warriors and their weapons fall'n,

Leave in her triple tire of pointed steel

A void for swift impression of her foes.

In rush Briareus and Pangaeus huge,

Whose maces send fresh numbers to the shades.

The op'ning widens. On his vaulting steed

Mardonius follows, like ensanguin'd Mars

By his auxiliars grim, dismay and rage,

Preceded. Rivalling the lightning's beams,

The hero's sabre bright and rapid wheels

Aloft in air. A comet thus inflames

The cheek of night; pale mortals view in dread

Th' unwonted lustre, transient tho' it be,

Among the lights of heav'n. Pausanias rous'd,

Advancing, at Briareus points his lance.

Meantime six Spartans of the younger class

Assail Mardonius. One his bridle grasp'd;

The Persian sabre at the shoulder close

Lopp'd off th' audacious arm. Another stoop'd

To seize the chieftain's foot, and drag him down;

Pois'd on his stirrup, he in sunder smote

The Spartan's waist. Another yet approach'd,

Who at a blow was cloven to the chin.

Two more the gen'rous horse, uprearing, dash'd

Maim'd and disabled to the ground; the last

His teeth disfigur'd, and his weight oppress'd.

As some tall-masted ship, on ev'ry side

Assail'd by pinnaces and skiffs whose strength

Is number, drives her well-directed prow

Through all their feeble clusters; while her chief

Elate contemplates from her lofty deck

The hostile keels upturn'd, and floating dead,

Where'er she steers victorious: so the steed

Nisaean tramples on Laconian slain,

Triumphant so Mardonius from his seat

Looks down. But fate amidst his triumph shews

Briareus yielding to a forceful blow

Of stern Pausanias, and Pangaeus pierc'd

By Amompharetus. Their giant bulks,

Thrown prostrate, crash three long-protended rows

Of Spartan spears. Wide-branching thus huge oaks,

By age decay'd, or twisted from the roots

By rending whirlwinds, in their pond'rous fall

Lay desolate the under shrubs, and trees

Of young, unstable growth. More awful still,

Another object strikes the satrap's eye;

With nodding plumes, and formidable stride,

Lo! Aemnestus. Asia's gen'ral feels

Emotions now, which trouble, not degrade

His gen'rous spirit. Not, as Priam's son

On sight of dire Achilles, thoughts of flight

Possess Mardonius, but to wait the foe,

And if to die, with honour die, if live

Enjoy a life of fame. His giant guard

Around him close; one levels at the casque

Of Aemnestus; but the weighty mace

Slides o'er the Spartan's slanting shield, and spends

Its rage in dust. The stooping giant leaves

His flank unguarded, and admits a stroke,

Which penetrates the entrails. Down he sinks,

Another tow'r of Asia's battle strewn

In hideous ruin. Soon a second bleeds,

A third, a fourth. The fifth in posture stands

To crush the victor with a blow well-aim'd;

Him Menalippus at the brawny pit

Of his uplifted arm transpiercing deep

Disables. Aemnestus struggles long

To grapple with his victim, and invokes

Leonidas aloud. The active son

Of Gobryas plants throughout the Spartan shield

A wood of Javelins. His Nisaean horse,

Careering, vaulting, with his fangs and hoofs

Protects his lord. The guards, who still furviv'd,

With faithful zeal their whole united strength

Exert unwearied for a lib'ral chief.

Some paces backward Aemnestus forc'd,

Impels his heel against a loos'ning stone,

Broad, craggy, scarce inferior to the weight

Discharg'd by Hector on the massy bars

Of Agamemnon's camp. The Spartan quick

From his left arm removes the heavy shield,

With javelins thick transfix'd. From earth he lifts

The casual weapon, and with caution marks

The fatal time and distance. O'er the heads

Of thy surrounding guard the fragment hurl'd

Descends, Mardonius, on thy manly chest,

And lays thee o'er thy courser's back supine

Without sensation. O, illustrious man,

Whose dazzling virtues through thy frailties beam'd!

Magnanimous, heroic, gen'rous, pure

In friendship, warm in gratitude! This doom

At once dissolves all interval of pain

To mind, or body. Not a moment more

Hast thou, ingenuous satrap, to repine,

Or grieve. Go, hero, thy Masistius greet,

Where no ambition agitates the breast,

No gloomy veil of superstition blinds,

No friend can die, no battle can be lost!

This fall, to Greece decisive as to heav'n

Enceladus o'erthrown, when, thunder-pierc'd,

He under Aetna's torrid mass was chain'd,

Discomfits Asia's hopes. In fresh array

Meantime the phalanx, by Pausanias form'd,

Proceeds entire. Facility of skill

Directs their weapons; pace by pace they move

True to the cadence of accustom'd notes

From gentle flutes, which trill the Doric lays

Of Alcman and Terpander. Slow they gain

The ground, which Persia quits, till Chileus bold

With his Tegaeans gores the hostile flanks;

Confusion then, and gen'ral rout prevail.

The fugitives proclaim Mardonius slain;

The whole Barbarian multitude disperse

In blind dismay; cool Mindarus in vain

Attempts to check their flight; all seek the camp;

And now the Spartan flutes, combin'd with shouts

Of loud Tegaeans stimulate his speed

Across the ford. His trenches he regains,

And there to Midias, Tiridates brave,

And chosen satraps, gath'ring at his call,

Thus spake: The flow'r of Asia in the dust

Reclines his glories. Feel your loss like me,

Not overcome by sorrow, or surprise

At changes natural to man, the sport

Of his own passions, and uncertain chance.

Vicissitudes of fortune I have prov'd,

One day been foil'd, a conqueror the next.

In arduous actions though experienc'd minds

Have much to fear, not less of hope remains

To animate the brave. Amid this storm

The throne of Cyrus, your exalted sires,

Your own nobility, recall; deserve

The rank, you hold; occasion now presents

For such a trial. To uphold my king,

My country's name, and piously revenge

My kindred blood new-spilt, my sword, my arm,

My life, I destine. Multitude is left,

Surpassing twenty myriads; ev'n despair

Befriends us; famine threat'ning, and the dread

Of merciless resentment in our foes,

May force these rally'd numbers to obtain

From their own swords relief. Behold your camp,

Strong-fenc'd and bulwark'd by Masistian care,

A present refuge. See th' auxiliar Greeks

Entire, advancing on th' inferior bands

Of Athens. Still may Xerxes o'er the West

Extend his empire, and regret no part

Of this disaster, but Mardonius slain.

Assume your posts, for stern defence provide.

End of the Twenty-ninth Book.

THE ATHENAID.
BOOK the THIRTIETH.

O God of light and wisdom! thee the Muse

Once more addresses. Thou didst late behold

The Salaminian brine with Asian blood

Discolour'd. Climbing now the steep ascent

To thy meridian, for a stage of war

More horrible and vast, thy beaming eye

Prepare. Thou over wide Plataea's field,

Chang'd to a crimson lake, shall drive thy car,

Nor see a pause to havoc, till the West

In his dark chamb rs shuts thy radiant face.

Now had the herald, to Cecropia's chief

Sent by Pausanias, in his name requir'd

Immediate aid. No doubt suspends the haste

Of Aristides; who arrays his ranks

With cordial purpose to sustain that strength

Of Greece, Laconia's phalanx. Lo! in sight

New clouds of battle hov'ring. He discerns

Th' array of Leontiades, with wings

Of Macedonic, and Thessalian horse;

Then calls Sicinus: Friend, he said, observe;

Robust and bold, to perfidy inur'd,

Not less than arms, yon Thebans cross our march.

I trust the justice of our cause will foil

Them, thrice our number; but events like this

Are not in man's disposal. If I fall,

Not rashly, good Sicinus, rest assur'd,

Themistocles survives. The gate of Greece

He guards, Euboea and Thessalia holds,

Those granaries of plenty. Eastern shores

With all his force, perhaps victorious now,

Xanthippus will relinquish, and maintain

The sea auxiliar to thy prudent lord;

Thus all be well, though Aristides bleeds:

This to Themistocles report. But go,

Fly to Cleander; him and all the Greeks

Rouse from the fane of Juno to the field;

Both Spartans and Athenians want their aid.

Thy tribe, undaunted Cimon, place behind

Olympiodorus; if his active bands

Repel Thessalia's horse, avoid pursuit;

Wheel on the flank of Thebes. Here Delphi's priest:

Behold Emathia's standards front thy right;

With Haliartus, and Oileus' son,

Let me be station'd there. I trust, the spouse

Of Amarantha, at her father's sight,

Will sheath a sword unvoluntary drawn,

Nor ties of hospitality and blood

Profane to serve Barbarians. I accept

The gen'rous offer, sage and gallant seer,

Spake Aristides. In that wing thy friend,

The learn'd and manly Aesehylus presides.

But, to thy god appealing, I enjoin

Thy rev'rend head to cover in retreat

Its unpolluted hairs, should fire of youth,

Or yet more strong necessity, impel

Thy son to battle. Here th' enraptur'd priest:

The inspiration of my god I feel;

A glorious day to Athens I presage,

I see her laurels fresh. Apollo joins

His sister Pallas to preserve a race,

Which all the Muses love. His awful power

Will chain the monster parricide, and rouse

The Grecian worth in Alexander's heart.

These animated accents fire the line.

Within the measure of an arrow's flight

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Each army now rank'd opposite. A thought

Of piety and prudence from his place

Mov'd Aristides. Single he advanc'd

Between the hosts; offensive arms he left

Behind him; ev'n his plumed helm resign'd

Gave to his placid looks their lib'ral flow.

Before him hung his ample shield alone,

Timothea's gift, whose sculptur'd face display'd

Truth, equity, and wisdom hand in hand,

As in his breast. Exalting high in tone

His gracious voice, he thus adjur'd his foes:

Ye men deriv'd from Cadmus, who in Greece

Establish'd letters, fruitful mother since

Of arts and knowledge, to Barbarian spoil

This hour expos'd; ye sons of Locris, hear,

Thessalians, Phocians, Dorians, all compell'd

By savage force to arm against your friends,

Of language, rites and manners with your own

Congenial: Aristides, in the name

Of all the Grecian deities, invokes

Your own sensations to disarm your hands

Of impious weapons, which retard the help

We bear to those now struggling in defence

Of Grecian freedom, sepulchres and fanes.

He said; was heard like Enoch, like the man

Who walk'd with God, when eminently wise,

Among th' obscene, the violent, and false,

Of justice and religion, truth and peace

He spake exploded, and from menac'd death

To God withdrew. The fell Boeotians rend

The sky with threat'ning clamour, and their spears

Shake in defiance; while the word to charge

Perfidious Leontiades conveys.

Retreating backward, Aristides cloaths

His face in terror. So Messiah chang'd

His countenance serene, when full of wrath

Bent on Satanic enemies, who shook

Heav'n's peaceful champaign with rebellious arms,

He grasp'd ten thousand thunders, and infix'd

Plagues in their souls; while darts of piercing fire

Through their immortal substances, by sin

Susceptible of pain, his glaring wheels

Shot forth pernicious. Aristides leads

His phalanx on. Now Greeks to Greeks oppose

Their steely structures of tremendous war.

With equal spears and shields their torrent fronts

They clash together; like the justling rocks,

Symplegades Cyanean, at the mouth

Of Thracia's foaming Bosphorus, were feign'd,

Infrangible opponents, to sustain

A mutual shock which tempested the frith,

Dividing Europe from the Orient world.

Meanwhile Phoebean Timon's glowing zeal,

Replete with patriot and religious warmth,

Thus in the wing which Aeschylus had form'd,

Bespake the encircling chieftains: O'er the space

Between Asopus, and the main array

Of Thebes, I see the Macedonian horse

But half advanc'd: Their tardy pace denotes

Reluctance. Lo! I meditate an act

To prove my zeal for universal Greece,

Her violated altars, and the tombs

Robb'd of their precious dust. My slender band,

So long companions in adventures high

With your choice Locrians, Haliartus, join

To Medon's banner. Aeschylus, observe

My progress; if my piety succeeds,

Thou, as a soldier, take advantage full.

So saying, o'er the plain in solemn pace

His rev'rend form he moves, by snowy bands

Pontifical around his plumed helm

Distinguish'd. Thus from Salem's holy gate

Melchisedek, the priest of him Most High,

Went forth to meet, and benedictions pour

On Terah's son in Shaveh's royal vale.

The Macedonian squadrons at the sight

Fall back in rev'rence; their dismounting prince

So wills. The father and the son embrace.

Oh! Amarantha's husband! joyful sighs

The parent. Oh! my Amarantha's sire!

In equal joy the husband. Timon then:

A Greek in blood, to Delphi's priest ally'd,

The god of Delphi's blessing now secure;

Abandon these Barbarians to the fate,

Which in the name of Phoebus I denounce

For his insulted temple, and the rape

Of Amarantha from Minerva's shrine.

Yet to unsheath an unsuspected sword

Against them, neither I, nor heav'n require,

Less thy own honour; but repass the stream,

Amid this blind uproar unnotic'd seek

Thermopylae again; and reach thy realm.

O'er all that clime Themistocles prevails,

My friend; his present amity obtain,

Cecropia's future love, nor hazard more

Thy fame and welfare. Aristides knows

My truth, replies the monarch; now to thee

Obedience prompt a second proof shall yield.

Ascend a steed; to Amarantha's arms

I will conduct thee first; th' auspicious flight

Of both, a father shall assist and bless.

They speed away, in extasy the sire

To clasp his darling child in Dirce's grove.

This pass'd in Medon's eye, who watchful stood

With Haliartus, and a troop advanc'd,

In care for Timon. When apparent now

The Macedonian squadrons quit the field

Of strife, the heavy-cuirass'd of his wing

With serry'd shields by Aeschylus is led,

In evolution wheeling on the flanks

Of that strong mass'd battalia, which compos'd

The hostile center. First in phalanx stood

Unwilling Locrians. Medon lifts his voice,

And to each eye abash'd his awful shape,

Like some reproving deity, presents;

They hear, they see Oïleus in his son,

As ris'n a mourning witness of their shame

From his sepulchral bed. The banners drop

Before him; down their spears and bucklers fall;

They break, disperse, and fly with children's fear,

When by authority's firm look surpris'd

In some attempt forbidden, or unmeet.

Boeotian files are next. With sudden wheel

They form a front, and dauntless wait the assault.

Still in the van robust and martial Thebes

Unbroken stems th' agility and skill

Of her opponent Athens. Long unspent

The tide of well-conducted battle flows

Without decision strong. At length by fate

Is Leontiades impell'd to meet

Cecropia's chief, where Thebes began to feel

His mighty pressure. Whether justice strung

His nerves with force beyond a guilty hand,

Or of his manly limbs the vigour match'd

His fortitude of mind; his falchion clove

Down to the neck that faithless Greek, of Greece

The most malignant foe. The treacherous deed,

Which laid fair Thespia, with Plataean tow'rs

In dust, he thus aton'd. A bolt from heav'n

Thus rives an oak, whose top divided hangs

On either side obliquely from the trunk.

Murichides the Hellespontin bleeds,

Too zealous friend of Asia, in whose cause

This day he arm'd. By great Mardonius charg'd

Late messenger of friendship, he in peace

On Salaminian shores had touch'd the hand,

Which now amid the tumult pierc'd his heart,

Not willingly, if known. Then Lynceus fell,

From Oedipēan Polynices sprung,

The last remains of that ill-fated house.

Mironides and Clinias near the side

Of Aristides fought, his strong support.

Yet undismay'd and firm three hundred chiefs,

Or sons of proudest families in Thebes,

Dispute the victory till death. Meantime

Olympiodorus from the left had gall'd

Thessalia's squadrons, like a sleety storm

Checking their speed. Athenian horse, though few,

Mix'd with their bowmen, well maintain'd their ground.

His own true-levell'd shaft transfix'd the throat

Of Larissean Thorax; who in dust

Buries at length his Aleuadian pride.

Rememb'ring all his charge bold Cimon rears

His mighty spear. Impetuous through a band

Of yielding Phocians he on Theban ranks

Falls like a rapid falcon, when his weight

Precipitates to strike the helpless prey.

Him slaughter follows; slaughter from the right

On Aeschylus attends, and mightier waits

On Aristides. Justice in his breast

Awhile was blind to mercy undeserv'd,

Ev'n unimplor'd, by persevering foes

Invet'rate. Now on this empurpled stage

Of vengeance due to perfidy and crimes,

Twice their own number had the Athenians heap'd

Of massacred Boeotians; but as heav'n,

Not to destruction punishing, restrains

Its anger just, and oft the harden'd spares,

That time may soften, or that suff'rings past,

Not measur'd full, may turn the dread of more

To reformation; Aristides thus

Relenting bade retreat be sounded loud,

Then, by th' obedient host surrounded, spake

Serene: Enough of Grecian blood is spilt,

Ye men of Athens; low in dust are laid

The heads of those who plann'd the fall of Greece.

The populace obtuse, resembling you,

Enlighten'd people, as the sluggish beast

A gen'rous courser, let your pity save

In gratitude to Jove, creating yours

Unlike Boeotia's breed—Now form again.

Thus equity and mercy he combin'd,

Like that archangel, authoris'd by heav'n

Chief o'er celestial armies, when the fall'n

From purity and faith in Eden's bow'rs

Not to perdition nor despair he left

Abandon'd. Aristides still proceeds:

New victories invite you; Sparta long

Hath wanted succour; Men of Athens, march.

Lo! Menalippus greets in rapid haste

This more than hero. I am come, he said,

To bring thee tidings of Mardonius slain

In open fight. Pausanias still demands

Thy instant presence. In pursuit he reach'd

The stream. "Not now that passage is forbid,"

Tisamenus exclaim'd. The gen'ral pass'd

In vain to force the well-defended camp;

Repuls'd in ev'ry part he dubious stands

With disappointment fore; on Attic skill

To mount entrenchments and a rampart storm

Laconians and Tegaeans both depend

To crown the day. Th' Athenian heard, and cool

In four divisions separates the host.

Four thousand warriors, light and heavy-arm'd,

Each part compose; whose ensigns o'er the flood

In order just are carry'd. He attains

Th' adjacent field, and joins Pausanias there;

Whose ravell'd brow, and countenance of gloom

Present a lion's grimness, who, some fold,

Or stall attempting, thence by vollied stones

Of trooping shepherds, and of herdsmen, chas'd,

Hath sullenly retreated, though oppress'd

By famine dire. To Aristides spake

With haughtiness redoubled Sparta's chief:

Didst thou forget, Athenian, who commands

The Grecian armies? Thou hast loiter'd long

Since my two mandates. With majestic warmth

The righteous man: Pausanias, now receive

From Aristides language new, but just.

Thine is the pride of satraps, not the light

Ingenuous vanity of Greeks, from sense

Of freedom, sense of cultivated minds,

Above the rest of mortals. No; a black,

Barbaric humour festers at thy heart,

Portending usurpation. Know, proud man,

Thou hast been weigh'd, and long deficient found

By Aristides, thy superior far,

Then most superior, when for public good

Compliant most. Thou soon, O! Spartan born,

Yet in thy country's decency untaught,

Will like a Persian cast a loathing eye

On freedom, on Lycurgus and his laws,

Which gall a mind despotic. I presage

Thee dangerous, Pausanias. Where the seeds

Of dark ambition I suspect, my eye

Becomes a jealous centinel; beware,

Nor force my active vigilance to proof

Now or in future, when united Greece,

No more defensive, may retaliate war,

Successful war, which prompts aspiring thoughts.

Rest now a safe spectator. From defeat

Of real warriors, of our fellow Greeks,

Not Persians lightly arm'd in loose array,

The loiterers of Athens shall with ease

Surmount that fence impregnable to thee.

To wait an answer he disdain'd, but march'd;

While arrogance in secret gnash'd the teeth

Of this dark-minded Spartan, doom'd to prove

The boding words of Aristides true.

The sun, no longer vertical, began

His slant Hesperian progress. At the head

Of his own host Cecropia's chief began.

Enthusiastic flame, without whose aid

The soldier, patriot, and the bard is faint,

At this great crisis thus inspires the man

Of human race the most correct in mind:

Ye shades of all, who tyrants have expell'd,

Ye, who repose at Marathon entomb'd,

Ye glorious victims, who exalt the name

Of Salamis, and Manes of the brave

Leonidas, arise! Our banners fan

With your Elysian breath! Thou god supreme,

Jove elutherian, send thy child belov'd,

With her Gorgonian aegis, to defend

A people struggling not for spoil, or pow'r,

Not to extend dominion, but maintain

The right of nature, thy peculiar gift

To dignify mankind. I lift this prayer,

My citizens, in rev'rence, not in doubt

Of your success. Ye vanquishers of Greeks,

Beneath your spears yon servile herd will fall,

As corn before the sickle. With a look

Of circumspection he remark'd a swell

Of ground not fifty paces from the camp;

Olympiodorus and his bowmen there

He posted first. Now, Aeschylus, he said,

Construct of solid shields a brazen roof;

In contact close to yonder fence of wood

Form like the tortoise in his massy shell.

The archers, each like Phoebus skill'd, remove

With show'rs of death the thick defendants soon

Clear from the rampart, which in height surpass'd

Two cubits. Aeschylus not slow performs

His task. A rank of sixty warriors plac'd

Erect, with cov'ring bucklers o'er their heads,

A brazen platform to the wall unites.

The next in order stoop behind; the last

Kneel firm on earth. O'er implicated shields

A stable passage thus when Cimon sees,

He mounts, and fearless eyes the Asian camp.

Between the rampart's basis and the foe

An empty space observing, on the ground

His spear he fixes, and amidst a storm

Of clatt'ring javelins, arrows, darts and stones,

Swings down. So, shooting from the sulph'rous lap

Of some dark-vested cloud, a globe of fire

Through winds and rain precipitates a blaze

Terrific down the raven pall of night.

His whole division follows; with his band

Myronides, and Aeschylus, releas'd

From his first care. Successively they range.

The very fence, by Persian toil uprais'd,

Now from the Persian multitude secures

Th' Athenian near. No obstacle remains

To Aristides, who compleats his plan.

Olympiodorus and his active train

With axes keen, and cleaving spades approach;

Hewn down, uptorn in that surmounted part,

The fall'n defences, and the levell'd ground,

Soon leave an op'ning wide. His strong reserve,

Eight thousand light, two thousand heavy-arm'd,

With Haliartus, and Oileus' son,

Cecropia's chief leads forward to sustain

His first bold warriors. Chileus enters next

With his Tegaeans, Aemnestus brave,

Pausanias, Amompharetus, the youth

Of Menalippus, all the Spartan host.

Seven Grecian myriads through the breach invade

A ground, with swarms of tents and men oppress'd.

Dire thus th' irruption of Germanic seas

Through strong Batavian mounds; th' inflated brine

Stupendous piles of long-resisting weight

Bears down, and, baffling strength and art combin'd,

Foams o'er a country in its seat profound

Below the surface of th' endang'ring main;

A country, where frugality and toil

No spot leave waste, no meadow, but in herds

Redundant; where the num'rous dwellings shew

Simplicity but plenty, now immers'd

With all their throng'd inhabitants beneath

Th' unsparing deluge. Aristides swift,

As if by gen'ral choice the chief supreme,

Commandment issues, that to either side

The host extend, that, skirted by the fence,

With wheeling flanks in front the line assume

A crescent's figure. Thus the fisher skill'd

With his capacious seines, slow-dragg'd and press'd

Close on each bank, a river's whole expanse

With all his natives glossy-finn'd involves.

Yet Mindarus, with Mede and Persian ranks,

A large remainder from the morning fight,

Resists, which soon are slaughter'd; he retreats

Among the tents, whose multitude impedes

The Grecians. Aristides straight commands,

That from the heavy line's disjointed length

A hundred bands expatiate in the chace

Of foes benumb'd by fear, who neither fight,

Nor fly, of means depriv'd. The carnage grows

In every quarter. Fountains seem unclos'd,

Whence rivulets of blood o'erflow the ground.

O'er satraps, potentates, and princes fall'n,

Strode Aristides first of men, of heav'n

The imitator in his civil deeds,

Now some faint semblance, far as mortal may

Of that Almighty victor on the field

Ethereal, when o'er helms, and helmed heads

Of prostrate seraphim, and powers o'erthrown,

He rode. Still Mindarus, by courage wing'd,

From nation flies to nation, still persists

Exhorting; though in hopeless thought he sees

Great Hyperanthes from the shades ascend,

And seems to hear the godlike phantom sigh

In mournful words like these: Ah! fruitless toil!

As once was mine, to rescue from despair

The panic fears of Asia! Dead in mind,

Her host already soon dead clay must lie,

Like me on Oeta's rock. Yet Midias brave,

With Tiridates rous'd, their efforts join.

Against them warlike Medon, and the seed

Of Lygdamis, chance brings. They side by side,

As heretofore Thermopylae beheld

Young Dithyrambus and Diomedon,

Had all the day their unresisted wedge

Of Locrian shields and Delphian led to deeds,

Accumulating trophies. Midias falls

By Haliartus. From the slain his lance

Recov'ring, tow'rds his patron dear he turns;

Him conqu'ror too of Tiridates views

In joy; joy soon to sorrow chang'd! Fate guides

A casual weapon from a distant hand;

Such as at Ramoth from the Syrian bow,

Drawn at a venture, smote between the joints

Of harness strong the Israelitish king,

Who from the fight bade wheel his chariot, stain'd

With his own crimson. Ponderous and broad

The hostile lance inflicts a mortal wound

In Medon's gen'rous bosom. Not a sigh

He breathes, in look still placid and sedate,

While death's cold moisture stagnates on his limbs,

By all their pow'rs forsaken. Bear, he said

To Haliartus, bear me from the camp,

Nor yet extract the weapon; life, I feel,

Would follow swift, and Medon hath a charge

Yet to deliver. Some pathetic Muse,

In tend'rest measures give these numbers flow!

Let thine, who plaintive on the pontic verge

In servitude Sarmatian, through her page

Of sorrows weeps thy banishment from Rome;

Or thine, Euripides, whose moral strains

Melt sympathy in tears at human woes,

Thy vary'd tragic themes, or both unite

Your inspiration to describe a heart,

Where gratitude o'er all affections dear

Predominantly sway'd; the faithful heart

Of Haliartus at this sudden stroke

Of direful chance. To death is Medon snatch'd,

From glory snatch'd amid victorious friends.

The Carian's bosom instant feels combin'd

Achilles' anguish at Patroclus dead,

The pang of Priam at the fall of Troy,

Ev'n woman's grief, Andromache's distress

For her slain Hector, and his mother's pain

To see his mangled and dishonour'd corse.

Great Artemisia's name, th' illustrious blood

From Lygdamis deriv'd, his own exploits

Of recent fame, are all eras'd from thought

In Haliartus now; who sinks again

To Meliboeus. On the wounded chief,

As on his lord, his patron, still he looks

With all th' affection of a menial, bred

In the same home, and cherish'd in that home

With lib'ral kindness to his humbler state.

He clasps the fainting hero, on the shields

Of weeping friends deposits, and conveys

Swift through a portal, from its hinges forc'd.

Three hours remain'd to Phoebus in his course.

Close by the entrenchment, under beachen shade

Of ancient growth, a fountain bursts in rills

Transparent; thither on the down of moss

Was Medon borne and laid. Unloose, he said,

My helm, and fill from that refreshing stream.

Obey'd, he drank a part; then pouring down

The remnant, spake: By this libation clear

Be testified my thanks to all the gods,

That I have liv'd to see my country sav'd

On this victorious day. My fate requires

No lamentation, Haliartus dear,

Oh! more, than kindred, dear. Commend me first

To Aristides; Medon's parting breath

Him victor hails. To Delphi's virtuous priest,

To my Leonteus, to the glorious son

Of Neocles, my salutation bear,

To kind Cleander, my Troezenian host,

To Hyacinthus of Euboea's race,

The flower of all her chieftains: They have prov'd

In me some zeal their island to redeem.

Transport my ashes to Melissa's care,

Them near the reliques of Laconia's king

Repose; be mine the neighbour of his urn.

Here with an utmost effort of his voice,

With arms extended, and Elysian look:

Leonidas, the life thy friendship sav'd,

An off'ring to thy manes, now I close

Mature in age, to glory not unknown,

Above the wish, as destitute of hope

To find a fairer time, or better cause,

Than sends me now a messenger to greet

Thee with glad tidings of this land preserv'd.

With his own hand the javelin from his breast

He draws serene; life issues through the wound.

New shouts, new trumpets, waken from a trance

Of grief the son of Lygdamis. He sees

Cleander; who th' Asopian banks had pass'd,

Call'd by Sicinus from Saturnia's dome.

Lo! Epidaurian Clitophon, the ranks

Of Phlius with Menander, Sicyon's chief

Automedon, the Hermionean spears

With Lycus follow, Cephallene's sons,

The Acarnanian, all th' Epirot bands,

Leprēan Conon, with Mycenae's youth

Polydamas, by Arimnestus led

The brave Plataeans, with his Thespian files

Alcimedon, Nearcus with his force

Of Chalcis, Potidaean Tydeus next,

Eretrian Cleon, Lampon, and the troop

Of little Styra, Corinth's banners last,

By Adimantus and Alcmaeon rang'd.

Too late you come for glory, them bespake

The Carian sad: Lo! half the foes destroy'd

By Aristides, fugitives the rest;

Lo! there the only loss, which Greece sustains.

To him Cleander, with devout regret

O'er Medon, honour'd paranymph and guest,

His head inclining: Not too late we come

For sacrifice of Persians to the ghost

Of this dead hero. Ah! what floods of tears

Will fall in Troezen—But let grief prevail

Hereafter. Son of Lygdamis, renounce

Despondency; Acanthè still survives

To fire thy breast as Ariphilia mine;

I hear her prompting my vindictive arm.

From thy experience of this glorious day

Lead thy Troezenian host, where best to point

His strenuous efforts. Let thy guiding zeal

For me, long cursing my inactive post,

Yet find one track to fame. These gallant words

Of cordial frankness from dejection lift

The Carian brave, not less than Phoebus cheer'd

The languid son of Priam on the bank

Of Xanthus; when a stony mass, of weight

To stay a keel on Hellespontine sands,

By Ajax hurl'd, benumb'd the Trojan's frame.

Thus Haliartus: Through that open gate,

New forc'd, the shortest, safest passage lies;

But, to acquire some lustre, I can shew

Another track for prowess yet to shine.

He leads, all follow, save Corinthian bands

With Adimantus, hast'ning through the gate,

Soon as to him th' intelligence is brought;

Who ent'ring, sees a carnage which confounds

A timid spirit. By Alcmaeon urg'd,

Close by the fence he marches; none he meets

But fly before him. Adimantus lifts

His spear, and satiates cowardice with blood

Of unresisting men. By cheap success

Betray'd, a distant quarter he attains,

Where Mindarus confronts him. From his steed

Th' unyielding satrap whirls a rapid lance,

Which nails the base Corinthian to the ground.

Alcmaeon next is wounded; more had bled,

But Aristides o'er that part, devoid

Of tents, his dreadful crescent in array

Is forming new. The Persian starts; he flies

To one last angle of the spacious camp,

Sole spot unforc'd. Half circled now in front,

The Attic, Spartan, and Tegaean ranks,

In motion slow, yet moving on, augment

Progressively their terrors, like a range

Of clouds, which thicken on the brow of night,

A final wreck portending to a fleet,

Already shatter'd by the morning storm.

Round Mindarus the remnant of his host

Collected still is numerous. Them he sees

Oft look behind, a sight that ill accords

With warriors; but, as now in columns deep

Its glitt'ring horns that direful crescent shews

Within the limits of a javelin's cast,

All turn intent on flight at large; they break

Their own inclosure down, whose late defence

Is present bane, and intercepts escape.

Lo! Haliartus; all whose grief is chang'd

To fire, heroic flame. Three myriads fresh

He pours; that crouded angle he invests,

Preventing flight. Cleander looks around

Like some tornado menacing a bark,

Which soon unseam'd and parted sinks ingulph'd;

He finds a breach and with him enters death.

The long-enduring satrap, whose mild soul

Calamity hath worn, resembles now

The poor desponding sailor, who is left

Last of the found'ring vessel on a plank

Alone. No coast appears; the greedy swell

He sees around, expecting ev'ry wave

Will terminate his being, and forgoes

All hope of succour. His afflicted soul

Thus with an effort equal to his rank

The prince explores: What, Mindarus, remains

For thee deserted! In another's home

Cleora dwells, Masistius is no more;

Slain is Mardonius, Asia's glory fall'n;

Thou hast too long been fugitive this day;

Like Teribazus close a term of woe;

Like him in death be honour'd. He dismounts,

He grasps a spear. Such dignity of shame

To Ilian Hector, from his flight recall'd,

Great Homer's Muse imparted. While the prince

Is meditating thus, a man sublime

Tow'rs from th' Athenians, who suspend their march;

Unlike the son of Peleus in his ire

Implacable, he represents a god

In aspect, god of mercy, not of arms.

Know, chieftain, he began, to me the Greeks

One Persian life have granted; it is thine.

In this day's trial I have noted well

Thy constancy and manhood; I, who prize

The gems of virtue, in whatever clime,

O Persian! whether in a friend or foe

Their never-changing lustre they display;

I, Aristides, my protecting arm

Extend. Time presses; yield thee, ere too late;

Captivity no burden shalt thou find,

Till safe, without a ransom, thou regain

Thy native seat. The Persian melts like snow

In all its rigour at the noon-tide sun.

This unforeseen, humane demeanour calms

His mind, and hushes ev'ry desp'rate thought.

He thus replies: On all my actions past

Hath fortune frown'd; perhaps a captive state

With Aristides, whom Masistius lov'd,

Mardonius prais'd, and all mankind reveres,

Forebodes a change of fortune to my gain!

Thy condescending wisdom, O supreme

In justice, knowledge, and benignant deeds,

May lift a man of sorrows from despair!

He yields. Th' Athenian leads him through the press

Secure; himself a spectacle avoids,

Which others covet. Lo! on ev'ry side

Keen swords of massacre are wav'd. To maids

Deflow'r'd, dishonour'd wives, and gods prophan'd,

To Athens, Thespia, and Plataea burnt,

The Greeks compleat their sacrifice. The sun,

Wont on those fields of glist'ning green to smile,

And trace Asopus through his crystal maze,

Now setting, glances over lakes of blood;

While fate with Persian carnage chafes the stream

No longer smooth and limpid, but o'erswoln,

And foaming purple, with encreasing heaps

Of carcases and arms. Night drops her shade

On thirty myriads slaughter'd. Thus thy death,

Leonidas of Sparta, was aveng'd,

Greece thus by Attic virtue was preserv'd.

ERRATA.

- B. XXIII. l. 49, for Cephallenia, read Cephalenia.

- B. XXVII. l. 167, dele a.

- B. XXVII. l. 310, for protentous, read portentous.

- B. XXVIII. l. 80, dele the comma after consign'd.

- B. XXIX. l. 13, dele the comma after waits.

- B. XXIX. l. 335, dele the comma after Lacedaemon's.

- B. XXIX. l. 512, dele and.

- B. XXX. l. 46, for unvoluntary, read involuntary.

- B. XXX. l. 91, for wise, read good.

- B. XXX. l. 112, for like, read as.

Information about this book

Title statement

The Athenaid: a poem, by the author of Leonidas. [pt.3]

Glover, Richard, 1712-1785.

Publication

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University of Oxford Text Archive
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ID [ota]

http://ota.ox.ac.uk/id/4814

ID [isbn10]

1106018133

ID [isbn13]

9781106018137

ID [TCP]

K078097.003

ID [BIBNO]

CW3313948567

ID [ECLL]

0674600603

Availability

Distributed by the University of Oxford under a Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License

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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