THE ATHENAID, A POEM.
VOL. I.
THE
THENAID, A POEM,
BY THE AUTHOR OF LEONIDAS.
AESCHYL. PERSAE.
VOL. I.
LONDON: PRINTED FOR T. CADELL, IN THE STRAND. MDCCLXXXVII.
ADVERTISEMENT.
THE ATHENAID, written by the late Richard Glover,
Esq
was left by him, among other literary works, to Miss Glover (now Mrs. Halsey) who presents it to the Public exactly copied from her Father's Manuscript, except what regards the punctuation, and introduction of now and then a connective word, inserted by the good offices of a Friend.—The Poem was not finished early enough before Mr. Glover's decease for him to revise it, as he intended; yet, incorrect as it may be for want of such revisal, the Editor flatters herself that it will be favorably received, as the genuine work of an Author, who was ever distinguished by public approba
ion.—An earnest desire of doing honor to the memory of a deceased Parent, and also of gratifying the literary world with the Sequel to LEONIDAS, which the present Poem contains, and which together includes the most brilliant period of the Grecian History, are the motives for her Publication.
ERRATA.
B. I. l. 390,
for
Alpheus,
read
Alphē us.
B. I. l. 520,
for
Dioneces,
read
Dieneces.
B. III. l. 324,
for
ut,
read
But.
B. IV. l. 340,
for
servants,
read
servant's.
B. VI. l. 80,
after
blood
place
a full stop.
B. X. l. 72,
for
Erotria,
read
Eretria.
B. X. l. 337,
for
waite,
read
waits.
THE ATHENAID.
BOOK the FIRST.
THE Persians vanquish'd, Greece from bondage sav'd,
The death of great Leonidas aveng'd
By Attic virtue—celebrate, O Muse!
A burning ray the summer solstice cast,
Th' Olympiad was proclaim'd; when Xerxes pour'd
His millions through Thermopylae, new-stain'd
With blood. From Athens Aeschylus divine
In genius, arts, and valour, musing deep
On his endanger'd country's future doom,
Repairs, invited by an evening still,
To clear Ilissus, Attic stream renown'd.
Beneath an oak, in solitary state
Apart, itself a wood, the hero's limbs
On tufted moss repose. He grasps the lyre;
Unfolded scrolls voluminous he spreads
Along the ground: high lays repeating thence,
Leonidas the Spartan he extols,
And sweeps th' accordant strings. To closing day
He bade farewel, and hail'd th' ascending stars
In music long continued; till the stream
With drowsy murmur won his eye to sleep,
But left his fancy waking. In a dream
The god of day, with full meridian blaze,
Seem'd to assume his function o'er the skies;
When, lo! the earth divided: through the cleft
A gush of radiance dimm'd the noon-tide sun.
In structure all of diamond, self pois'd,
Amid redundant light a chariot hung
Triumphal. Twelve transparent horses breath'd
Beams from their nostrils, dancing beams of day
Shook from their manes. In lineaments of man,
Chang'd to immortal, there the mighty soul
Of Sparta's king apparent shone. His wounds
Shot forth a splendour like the clust'ring stars,
Which on Orion's chest and limbs proclaim
Him first of constellations. Round in cars
Of triumph too arrang'd, the stately forms
Of those whom virtue led to share his doom,
And consecrate Thermopylae to fame.
Pines tipp'd with lightning seem'd their spears; their shields
Broad like Minerva's aegis: from their helms
An empyreal brightness stream'd abroad:
Ineffable felicity their eyes,
Their fronts the majesty of gods display'd.
Erect the glorious shape began to speak
In accents louder than a bursting cloud—
Pentelicus, Hymettus seem'd to shake
Through all their quarries, and Ilissus beat
His shudd'ring banks in tumult—Thou, whose muse
Commands th' immortalizing trump of fame,
Go to the sage Hellanodics, the just
Elē an judges of Olympian palms;
There in thy own celestial strains rehearse,
Before that concourse wide, our deeds and fate.
Let our example general Greece inspire
To face her danger; let the Spartan shield
Protect th' Athenians, else I died in vain.
The brilliant vision, now dispersing, leaves
The wond'ring bard. He, starting, in his ken
Discerns no other than the real scene
Of shadows brown from close embow'ring wood,
Than distant mountains, and the spangled face
Of heav'n, reflected from the silver stream.
But pensive, brooding o'er his country's fate,
His step he turns. Themistocles, who rul'd
Athenian councils, instant he accosts
With large recital of his awful dream.
Obey the mandate, cries the chief: alarm
Th' Olympian concourse: from the Delphian port
Of Cirrha sail for Elis: on thy way
Consult Apollo in the state's behalf,
Which to that function nominates thy worth:
Of Xerxes' march intelligence obtain.
This said, they parted. Aeschylus by dawn
Commenc'd his progress, join'd by numbers arm'd,
Like him to Pisa's barrier destin'd all,
Electing him their chief. Five times the sun
Renew'd his orbit, five successive nights
The moon enlarg'd her crescent, ere they reach'd
Phoebean Delphi, seated on a rock
Abrupt, sublime. Yet thence the curious eye
Must upward look to meet the summits blue
Of double-topp'd Parnassus, where the god
Oracular is worshipp'd. Here they trac'd
Barbarian violence profane. Consum'd
Were hamlets, temples levell'd to the dust,
The statues broken, each religious bow'r
A burning mass of embers. Wrapt in smoke,
With cinders strewn, so glows the region round
Portentous Aetna, or Vesuvius dire,
Death's flaming cauldrons; when their stony ribs
And min'ral bowels, liquefied by fire,
O'erwhelm the fields, by nature left unbless'd,
Alone unbless'd of all Sicania's bound,
Or lovely-fac'd Hesperia. Dubious here
Th' Athenians halt, while fierce the sultry noon
Inflames the sky. From Delphi's open gates,
To Attic eyes no stranger, Timon comes,
Sage priest of Phoebus, magistrate unsoil'd,
The public host of Athens, to the plain
Descending swift with followers who bear
His buckler, spear, and armour. On his head
Were ashes sprinkled: rent, his garb presag'd
Some black disaster. What malignant dart
Of fortune wounds thee? Aeschylus aloud,
While by the hand Cecropia's host he press'd.
To him the Delphian: From deserted roofs,
Depopulated streets, I come to hail
Thee, bound by hospitable ties my friend,
Thee, dear to Phoebus, by Minerva grac'd,
Thy country's goddess. Me thou often saw'st
A parent bless'd in Amarantha's bloom,
Yet ripe in virtue. Her, presenting pray'r
With votive flow'rs before Minerva's shrine,
This very hour Barbarians have enthrall'd,
Borne in my sight precipitate away.
O wife lamented, gather'd in thy prime
By ruthless Pluto! in Elysian groves
How shall I meet thee, and the tidings bear
Of thy lost child, to servitude a prey,
To violation doom'd? Yet more: the rage
Of these invaders, who have spoil'd our fields,
Defac'd our temples, driv'n to shelt'ring caves,
To pathless cliffs, our populace dismay'd,
Is now ascending to insult the fane,
With sacrilegious violence to seize
Th' accumulated off'rings by the great
And good from age to age devoted there.
He scarce had finish'd, when the earth beneath
Rock'd from her center in convulsive throes;
From pole to pole th' ethereal concave groan'd:
Night from her cavern with gigantic steps
Bestrode the region, lifting high as heav'n
Her broad, infernal palm, whose umbrage hides
The throne of light; while, glancing through the rifts
Of her black mande, overlaid with clouds,
Blue vapours trail'd their fires. The double head
Of tall Parnassus reeling, from the crag
Unloos'd two fragments; mountainous in bulk,
They roll to Delphi with a crashing sound,
Like thunder nigh whose burst of ruin strikes
The shatter'd ear with horror. Thus the bard
Unmov'd, while round him ev'ry face is pale:
Not on our heads these menaces are thrown
By ireful nature, and portentous heav'n;
Th' unrighteous now, th' oppressor of mankind,
The sacrilegious, in this awful hour
Alone should feel dismay. My Delphian host,
Who knows but thund'ring Jove's prophetic son
Now vindicates his altar; in his name
Now calls the turbid elements to war?
What shrieks of terror fill thy native streets!
The hills with barb'rous dissonance of cries,
The caverns howl. Athenians, be prepar'd,
Best so when arm'd: then, Timon, case thy limbs;
The season teems with prodigy. Secure
In conscious virtue, let us calmly watch
The mighty birth. By heav'n! through yonder gate
The foes are driven; confusion, wild despair,
With panic dread pursue them: friends, embrace
Th' auspicious moment; lift your pious blades,
Ye chosen men, auxiliars to a god!
He spake, advancing with his holy friend
To battle. Shiv'ring at their own misdeed,
At heav'n-inflicted punishment, the foes
Unnerv'd, distracted, unresisting, deem'd
The warriors two celestials from above,
Cas'd in Vulcanian panoply, to wage
The war of gods. The whole Athenian train
In equal fervour with Barbarian blood
Distain their weapons. So from forests drear,
When barren winter binds the foodful earth,
Enrag'd by famine, trooping wolves invade
A helpless village; unwithstood, they range
With greedy fangs, and dye with human gore
The snow-envelop'd ways. The Delphian race,
By fear so lately to the neighb'ring hills
And caves restrain'd, forsake their shelt'ring holds;
In clusters rushing on the foes dismay'd,
Accomplish their defeat. Th' Athenian chief
Triumphant, red with massacre, admits
A Persian youth to mercy, who his shield
And sword surrenders. Persian, dost thou hope
Thy flow'ring bloom shall ripen to enjoy
A length of days? (severe his victor spake)
Then to my questions utter words sincere.
Reveal thy name, thy father's. Where encamps
The host of Xerxes? Whither doth he point
His inroad next? To violate this fane
By his appointment was thy youth compell'd?
Last, if thou know'st, what impious savage tore
The Delphian maiden from Minerva's shrine?
The Persian answers with a crimson'd cheek,
With eyes in tears—Ah! little now avails
Th' illustrious current of Argestes' blood
To me a captive, less the name I bear
Of Artamanes. By the king's decree
That we were sent, that I unwilling came,
Is truth sincere. Our leader slain, the heaps
Of these disfigur'd carcases have made
Their last atonement to th' insulted god.
The king in rich Orchomenus I left;
Who through Boeotia meditates to march
Against th' Athenians. He, alas! who seiz'd
The beauteous virgin at Minerva's shrine,
He is my brother, eldest of the race,
Far hence secure; while captive here I mourn
His heinous outrage, and my own disgrace.
Addressing Timon, here Cecropia's bard:
Preserve this youth a hostage for thy child:
He seems deserving; thee I know humane.
Now to Apollo's temple be my guide.
Still dost thou droop?—O Aeschylus, exclaims
Desponding Timon, from the woes begun
This day in Delphi, I to Athens trace
A series black with evil. Lo! the wise,
The righteous Aristides from your walls
Through jealousy of merit is expell'd;
Themistocles the cause. Himself, though great,
Yet envious, and ambitious that his light
May blaze unrivall'd, of th' Athenian state
Extinguishes the brightest. Sparta shews,
At this dread crisis, how the hearts of men
By selfish eares and falsehood are deprav'd.
She to the land of Pelops still confines
Her efforts, on the neighb'ring isthmus rears
A partial bulwark, leaving half the Greeks,
Your noble seat, this oracle, expos'd
To devastation: little she regards
Our god profan'd, our progeny enslav'd;
Her chief Pausanias, arrogant and stern,
O'erlooks my suff'rings. Feeling what I fear
For thee and others, I must droop, my friend.
To him the bard, in these sententious strains:
Not endless sunshine is the lot of man,
Nor ever blooming seasons. Night succeeds
The day, as day the night: rude winter frowns,
Fair summer smiles. Thus variable the mind,
Not less than human fortune, feels the strife
Of truth and error, which alternate reign
The arbiters of nature. Dark the deed,
A deed of gloomy night, when envy forc'd
The best Athenian from his natal roof:
But light will soon return. Though Sparta break
Her promise pledg'd; though false Boeotia prop
A foreign throne; still Athens will sustain
Herself and Greece, will retribution pay
To Aristides, and her morn dispel
The mist of error with a glorious blaze.
No more—my duty calls me to the fane.
They move, and passing by Minerva's grove,
Two monuments of terror see. There stopp'd
The massy fragments, from Parnassus rent:
An act of nature, by some latent cause
Disturb'd. Tremendous o'er Barbarian ranks
The ruins down the sacred way had roll'd,
Leaving its surface horrible to sight;
Such as might startle war's remorseless god,
And shake his heart of adamant. Not long
This blood-congealing spectacle detains
The troop, which swiftly to the Pythian dome
Press their ascending steps. The martial bard
First, as enjoin'd by holy form, to scenes
Far diff'rent, sweet Castalia's fount and grove,
Resorts, with pure ablution to redeem
From dust and slaughter his polluted limbs,
To holy eyes obscene. Beside the fane,
Within a flow'ring bosom of the hill,
Through veins of rock beneath embow'ring shade,
The rills divine replenish, as they flow,
A cavity of marble. O'er the brim,
In slender sheets of liquid crystal, down
They fall harmonious. Plistus takes below
To his smooth bed their tribute. Plunging there
In deep obscurity of wood, whose roof
With ridgy verdure meets the low-bent eye
From that stupendous cliff, his current winds
Through shade awhile; thence issuing large in view,
Refreshes grateful meads, by mountains edg'd,
Which terminate on Cirrha, Delphian port.
Beyond her walls blue Neptune spreads his face
Far as Achaia's wide expanse of coast,
With tow'rs and cities crown'd. The marble fount
On either side is skirted thick by groves
Of ancient laurel with luxuriant arms,
In glossy green attir'd. There Phoebus, pride
Of Parian quarries, stands a form divine,
In act to draw an arrow from the case
Loose hanging o'er his shoulder; and in look
Serene, but stern: his worshippers to guard,
As if the Pythian serpent were in sight,
He meditates the combat. Here disarm'd,
His limbs from all th' impurities of Mars
Th' Athenian purges. Menial care supplies
A garment silver-white: an olive branch
His suppliant hand sustains. He seeks the fane;
He mounts the steps magnificent: the gates
On sounding hinges turn their brazen valves.
Across an area vast, with solemn shade
Of massy columns border'd, slow he moves
His manly frame. Procumbent at the mouth
Of that abyss oracular, whose fume
Breathes wild sensation through the Pythian maid,
With hands outstretch'd, he offers up this pray'r:
O vanquisher of Python! Seed of Jove,
Whose eleutherian might the tyrant dreads!
Bright pow'r of day, dispenser of that fire
Which kindles genius in the human breast!
God of that light diffusing through the soul
The rays of truth and knowledge! Friend to man,
His monitor prophetic! O admit
Athenians, anxious for their country's weal,
In this her day of peril to consult
Thy wisdom, thy protection to implore!
Her tripod high the prophetess ascends:
Enthusiastic motion strains her form,
In flashes rolls her eyeballs, and bespreads
Her agitated front with floating hair.
Her weight a laurel, planted nigh, upholds,
Which she embraces; her convulsive grasp
Shakes to the root the groaning trunk, the boughs,
The clatt'ring foliage. Forth she bursts in foam.
Fly, wretched men, to earth's extremest bound!
I see, I see th' Acropolis in flames,
Your temples crumble, and your turrets nod:
I see the blood run sable through your streets.
All unabash'd, the hero firm replies:
Yet further speak. Though citadel and fanes
Be doom'd to ashes, must the nation fall?
If so, instruct thy suppliants how their fall
May prove most glorious in the sight of gods
And men.—The Pythian answers with a look
Of pity, soft'ning her tempestuous rage:
Ah! still my tongue like adamant is hard.
Minerva's tow'rs must perish: Jove severe
So wills; yet granting, at his daughter's suit,
Her people refuge under walls of wood.
But shun the myriads of terrific horse,
Which on your fields an eastern Mars will range.
She ceas'd; Th' Athenian notes her answer down:
To one, the most entrusted of his train,
He gives the tablet. Back to Athens fly,
He said; the son of Neocles alone,
By his unbounded faculties, can pierce
The hidden sense of these mysterious strains;
All which of Xerxes thou hast heard, report:
I must depart to Elis.—Must thou go?
Dejected Timon then: what safety here
For me remains? Barbarians will return;
My countrymen, dishearten'd as before,
Resort to caverns. Though the god hath sav'd
His shrine, the rest of Phocis lies a prey,
Boeotia, Locris, Doris, to the foe.
Yet what have I, O Aeschylus! to dread?
I have no other child for savage force
To violate: In Amarantha lost,
My joy, my hope are vanish'd; and the hand,
Which lays me breathless, will befriend me best.
Th' Athenian here: Unmanly is despair,
A noxious weed, whose growth, my Delphian host,
Let courage wither. Phoebus hath denounc'd
The waste of Athens. Hopeful I forebode,
That prouder walls and battlements will lift
Their heads for ages; and that eye of Greece
With inextinguishable ray surpass
Its former lustre. Quit this dang'rous place,
With us embarking: borrow help from time,
Safe counsellor to wisdom. You, the race
Of holy Delphi, should the foe return,
Again dispersing to your caves, rely
On your protecting god. Not vers'd alone
In holy rites, in arms and council tried,
A chief like Timon fame forbids to hide
His dignity in caverns.—Timon here:
Thou shalt conduct me, thou my friendly star!
Meantime selected messengers I send
The needful barks at Cirrha to prepare.
Now from the temple under Timon's roof
Admitted, vig'rous with refection due
Of rest and food, to Cirrha they proceed
With Artamanes. Ready are the barks,
The gale propitious, calm the wat'ry plain:
When, like the feather'd sojourners, who leave
Their late abode on winter's bleak approach,
To wing their flight for climates more benign,
These with extended canvas quit the port,
And, doubling round Achaia, cut the main
To sacred Pisa. On their way the harp
Of Aeschylus, preluding to the strain
Which on his banks Alpheus was to hear,
Relieves the sailor toiling at his oar,
Enchants the wind retentive of the sounds
Which harmonize his breath. If round the keel
Of sweet Arion dolphins ever play'd,
Or blithsome Nereids to the pleasing mood
Of Orpheus danc'd, while Argo plough'd the deep;
They now had felt controulment as in bonds,
Not on their pliant, azure-glossy fins
Disporting light, but rigid with amaze
At this majestic muse. Yet sounding verse,
In solemn cadence to the deep-ton'd lyre,
Which could the boist'rous mariner subdue,
The ear of Timon, languid by despair,
Rejects, attentive to his grief alone,
Which sighs within. Society is pain,
Ev'n with his friend. A solitary couch
He seeks; recumbent, not reposing, there
Consumes the hours in pertinacious woe,
Which sheds no tear. If wearied nature sinks,
His sleep is troubled; visions of the night
Appal his spirit; starting, he forsakes
A thorny pillow; rushes on the deck
With lamentations to the midnight moon.
Alarm'd, th' Athenian chief approaching seiz'd
On Timon's hand; with earnest looks enquir'd
Why thus complaining he disturbs the calm,
From his own pillow chacing due repose?
Ah! I have seen my daughter, he replies,
Have seen her twice!—Where seen her? all distress'd
Th' Athenian questions.—On a rock she stood,
A naked rock, the parent wild exclaims;
Unloos'd her zone, dishevell'd was her hair;
The ravisher was nigh. On sight of me,
Who no assistance from the shore could reach,
O father, father! I am sham'd, deflower'd,
But here will end my sorrows and disgrace;
She said, and plung'd precipitate. I saw
Her body swallow'd by the greedy surge,
Unwept, depriv'd of sepulture, to float.
Illusion all! the bard consoling spake;
The phantom offspring of distemper'd sleep.
A second time, the frantic fire pursues,
Did Amarantha meet my aking sight;
Then, like an eastern concubine attir'd,
Her head was blazon'd with Barbaric gems;
With golden gloss her wanton garment wav'd:
With her despoiler hand in hand she walk'd,
Disclaim'd her father, and her father's gods.
Oh then I wish'd her on the waves again,
To parch in winds, or sate some vulture's beak!
The youthful captive Artamanes, rous'd,
Stands nigh in gen'rous tears. To him the bard:
Ingenuous Persian, check thy tears, and lend
Thy hand benign: committed to his couch
Him watch and fuccour.—Hourly was perform'd
The pious office; noblest Delphians round
Assist in tears; while now the moonlight twice
Danc'd on the billows. On the second morn
They land in Elis. Fame had gone before,
Promulgating the valour which aveng'd
The Delphian god, prophetic light to man,
Ev'n more than Jove in Ammon's Libyan shrine
Or Dodonaean groves. A shining car
Waits on the shore; a herald there salutes
The warrior bard. Divine Athenian, hail!
Hail, righteous captain of a righteous band!
These olive crowns to thee and them I bear;
So have the sage Hellanodics ordain'd,
Who to their just tribunal through my voice
Invite thy presence. Aeschylus receives
The victor's chaplet, and ascends the car.
Along Alphē us to th' Olympian lists
He passes through spectators all array'd
In garlands too, and num'rous like the flow'rs
Embellishing the river's fragrant sides,
Or like the pebbles in his murm'ring bed.
Th' approach of Aeschylus is known. Between
Two rows of victors in their olive crowns
He o'er the sanded area greets the thrones,
Where, grac'd with scepters magisterial, sat
Th' Elē an judges. Standing on the car,
To them, uprising from their seats, he spake:
If to have fought for Delphi and her god
Deserve this chaplet, what superior praise
To him is due, who voluntary died
For Lacedaemon? But he claims no more
Than emulation from the sons of Greece,
Like him to save their countries and their laws.
He hath his honours in the bless'd abodes;
From him I come deputed; hear in me
Leonidas. A vision, as of gods,
To me, late slumb'ring on Ilissus, rose;
In semblance rose Leonidas, begirt
With all the virtuous partners in his fate.
Before me earth divided; through the cleft
A gushing radiance dimm'd the eye of noon.
In structure all of diamond, self-pois'd,
Amid redundant light, a chariot hung
Triumphal. Twelve transparent horses breath'd
Beams from their nostrils, dancing beams of day
Shook from their manes. In lineaments of man,
Chang'd to immortal, with a shape enlarg'd,
A stature lengthen'd, there the mighty soul
Of Sparta's king apparent shone. His wounds
Shot forth a starlike splendour. Round in cars
Triumphal too arrang'd, the stately forms
Of those whom virtue led to share his doom,
And consecrate Thermopylae to fame.
To me these words the glorious shape address'd:
Go to the sage Hellanodics, the just
Elē an judges of Olympian palms:
In that wide concourse celebrate my death.
Let my example gen'ral Greece inspire
To face her danger; let the Spartan shield
Protect th' Athenians, else I died in vain.
Attention mute th' Hellanodics command:
The thick'ning crowd is hush'd. The bard proceeds,
While inspiration swells his copious breast,
Flames in his eye, and thunders from his voice.
Parnassian Phoebus he invok'd, the pow'r
Of prophecy and song. His aid is due
In celebration of the man who heard
The oracle from Delphi, and obey'd.
"A king deriv'd from Hercules must die
"For Lacedaemon." Who obedient heard?
Leonidas: he left his household gods,
His wife belov'd, his offspring; at the gate
Of Greece, Thermopylae, he fought, he fell:
With him what heroes? Alpheus, Maron bled,
There Agis, there Dioneces, the seer,
Megistias, bold Diomedon, the youth
Of Dithyrambus, Thespia's hoary chief,
Demophilus; for you they all expir'd:
Rise, Greeks, revenge their fall! in that revenge
Your laws, your manners, and religion save.
You who aspire to these Olympic wreaths,
The brightest guerdon to a Grecian brow,
Yet will you linger, till Barbaric arms
Annihilate th' Olympiad? Not to die
Leonidas invites; no, Greeks, to live!
Surmounting foes enervate by the dread
His death impress'd, to fill your cup of life
With virtuous glory, to enjoy your hopes
In peace, in years and merit then mature
Be his companions in eternal bliss.
Such was the substance; but in swelling phrase
At large, full tide of poesy and zeal,
Flow'd his high-ton'd, enthusiastic song.
End of the First Book.
THE ATHENAID.
BOOK the SECOND.
TH' inspiring measures close. To arms, to arms,
Innumerable mouths concurrent sound;
To arms, to arms, reply the pillar'd isles
Of Jove's Olympian temple: down his banks
To distant Neptune glad Alphē us wafts
The glorious clamour. Through th' assembly vast
Meantime an elevated form is seen,
With gracious gesture, animating look,
Approaching: now before th' Elean thrones
Of solemn judgment he majestic stands,
Known for the man by Themis plac'd in rank
Above his fellow mortals; archon once
Of Athens, now an exile: him the chief
Among the grave Hellanodics address'd:
Hail, Aristides! On th' Olympian games
Thy presence throws new dignity: what crown
Can they provide to equal thy desert?
While others court the prize of strength and skill,
Activity and valour; in the lists
Of virtue only Aristides strives.
With him on earth competitor is none;
Him Jove, sole perfect judge of gods and men,
Can recompense alone. He scornful views
Ambitious heroes, who assume the names
Of thunder-bearers, vanquishers of towns,
And ravagers of kingdoms: vain attempt
In feeble man to imitate in pow'r
Th' inimitable gods! On thee he casts
An eye delighted; thee, by ev'ry tongue
Proclaim'd the just; thee, emulating heav'n,
Where mortals may, in goodness. Yet our voice
Shall, what we can, decree dispraise to those
Whose envy wrong'd that sacred head of thine.
Forbear that censure, Aristides spake:
Though liberty may err through jealous care,
That jealous care far oft'ner saves a state
Than injures private worth. That I forgave
My condemnation, be my witness, Jove!
Whom I, departing from my native soil,
Implor'd that Athens ne'er might feel the loss
Of Aristides. To confirm that pray'r
I have employ'd my exile; not in quest
Of splendid refuge in the courts of kings,
But through each city with unwearied steps
Have pass'd, exhorting, stimulating Greece
To bold defence. I gladly am forestall'd
Here by a noble countryman, whose arm
At Marathon was fam'd, whose Attic lays
Immortalize the brave. I now invoke,
Not with less fervour, though in humbler phrase,
The patriots there triumphant e'en in death,
The manes of Leonidas, of all
Whose gen'rous blood new-spilt in freedom's cause,
Thermopylae beholds, to spread abroad
Their glorious spirit, and exalt your minds
Above the sense of danger. Now the weal
Of gen'ral Greece a gen'ral effort claims.
March to the plain, ye Doric warriors! mount
Your decks; th' Athenians with united arms
Support, no longer in that isthmian fence
Your trust reposing. Were the wall of brass,
Were adamant the rampart, if the pow'r
Of Athens, once extinguish'd, leave your coasts
Defenceless, soon to Pelops' Isle the foe,
Like death, a thousand avenues will find.
He ceas'd: A second acclamation rends
The sky; again th' Olympian temple groans
In replication, and Alphē an banks
Reverberate the sound. The Attic bard
Meantime, o'er-spent with labour of the mind
And voice loud straining, to the tranquil porch
Of Jove is lightly borne; nor knows the hands,
Benevolent and pious, which sustain
His languid burden; till these friendly words
In tones remember'd dissipate his trance.
Doth Aeschylus forget me? O recal
Melissa's brother, and Oïleus' son,
Whose Locrian hinds at one auspicious hour
Assisted thy bold mariners to hurl
Th' Oetaean ruins on Barbarian heads.
See Meliboeus off'ring to thy lip
The stream's refreshing moisture.—Soon restor'd,
Th' Athenian thus: Illustrious Medon, hail!
How fares Melissa, how thy native land?
She rests, I hope, on Oeta still secure,
Returns the Locrian. When Laconia's king
Was slain, and I, commanded to retreat,
Charg'd with a solemn notice to her state,
That he expir'd obedient to the laws;
My life, devoted to avenge his blood,
I sav'd. O'erpow'ring Xerxes soon reduc'd
The Locrians, Dorians, ev'ry northern Greek.
In time my father's treasure I remov'd,
Which with a hundred followers I bore
To Lacedaemon. There indiff'rence cold
I found to all except of Pelops' Isle;
Attention sole to build an isthmian wall:
Pausanias, guardian to the minor king,
Son of divine Leonidas, disdains
Our just complaint: The Ephori confine
To this contracted region all their care,
Save Aëmnestus. Gen'rous oft he mourn'd;
In vain his torpid colleagues he reprov'd.
Disgusted there, I join'd these solemn games,
Where in contention of the warlike spear
I prov'd a victor. Olive-bound, my head
On future fields its freedom shall maintain;
Else, with my late preserver's fate in view,
Shall dying roll this chaplet in the dust.
Repair with me to Athens, cries the bard.
Sage is that counsel, Aristides near
Subjoins: time presses; Aeschylus, embark:
Aegina's hospitable round supplies
My place of rest.—Now swift th' Athenian band,
With Medon's, seek their Delphian barks again;
While Aristides holds an inland course,
Still to his country meditating good,
Of his own wrongs forgetful. As he roam'd
From state to state, his eloquence instill'd
The love of freedom, horror at her loss,
Unchanging hatred to monarchal sway,
With concord, valour, fortitude, and zeal
For Greece in danger. From his wonted seat
In heav'n, so Phoebus, patient and resign'd,
An exile wander'd on the earth below;
Beneficent and helpful, there diffus'd
His light of science; with salubrious skill
Imparted health, and taught the varied use
Of lenient roots and plants. The Delphian keels
Meantime are loosen'd from Elē an sands,
With sails outstretch'd for Athens. On his couch
Still Timon lies despairing; near him watch
The chiefs humane: in kind officious care
The Persian captive from his forehead wipes
The dews of anguish. With a sudden start
Him now the Delphian, erring, thus bespoke:
Oh Alexander! thou hast lost, my son,
Thy dear betroth'd, the land of Phocis lost
Her noblest virgin! Reach my arms—I see
The ravisher before me: though he frowns,
Begirt with savage multitudes, my sword
Shall reach his barb'rous heart. Here Medon turns
To Aeschylus: The sight of Delphi's chief,
So nobly excellent, so honour'd, lov'd,
By all resorting to consult his god,
A sight once grateful, pierces now my soul
With agony. How oft hath music sooth'd
Distemper'd bosoms! Let thy tuneful chords,
Medicinally sweet, apply their aid.
To him the bard: My harmony his ear
But late rejected. Meliboeus, try
The softer sounds which Pan hath taught the swains.
A modulation by Melissa taught
I will essay, th' obedient swain replies.
He said, and lightly touch'd his warbling flute.
Like fountains rilling, or mellifluous notes
Of birds, a soft and lulling flow attun'd
The ambient air. At first th' afflicted man
Paus'd in attention, soon a trickling tear
Bedew'd his beard; the remedy was chang'd
To pain, and thus he recommenc'd his moan.
Thou, Amarantha, too couldst wake the soul
Of music, melting in thy parent's ear,
Refining joyful seasons, or the hours
Of care beguiling. In a foreign clime
Hang up thy harp, sad captive! Let thy hand
Forget her skill, nor charm Barbarian minds.
But hark! I hear the ruffian. Slave! he calls,
Resume thy harp: Some chosen hymn of Greece,
Such as delighted Phoebus, chaunt to me,
Me now thy god. O Alexander, fly,
Redeem thy love. Apollo, who couldst hurl
Parnassian summits on a host of foes,
Make me thy instrument of wrath! My nerves
Convert to pierceless adamant; my lance
Point with thy father's lightning! Me thy priest,
Sprung from an old, heroic, sacred line,
Thou shouldst avenge. But vengeance is too late;
My daughter yields: a minstrel to her lord,
To her deflow'rer, with obsequious art
The Grecian chords she prostitutes, and smiles
To see my suff'rings!—During this distress,
With canvas press'd, the squadron bounds along
By Coryphasium, by Messene's gulph
In Nestor's Pylian kingdom, by the peak
Of Taenarus, projecting o'er a cave,
Night's gloomy chamber, fabled to descend
Low as Plutonian regions. Thrice the morn
Serenely smil'd, ere Malea's top their sails
O'ershades, Laconian promontory bleak,
The residence of storms. Five distant masts
Are now descried; when Aeschylus bespake
The Locrian chief: Not friendly are those decks;
Our navy, since Thermopylae was forc'd,
To Salamis retiring, leaves the foes
At large to range the sea. Thy counsel give;
To some Laconian harbour shall we steer,
Or wait their coming? Here Oïleus' son:
Thou art my leader; thee propitious Mars
On land and main with equal pow'rs endues:
How can I counsel, stranger to the waves?
At thy commandment to retreat, or fight,
Behold me ready.—Then by Mars, replies
The warrior bard, as no resistless force
Bears down against us, yet insulting hoists
A threat'ning signal, Delphians, rest the oar;
Provide your arms; Athenians, Locrians, arm!
This said, his pinnace, launch'd in haste, convey'd
His orders round to form th' embattled line.
Six were the vessels; Lo! a stately bark
In regal pendants leads th' opponent van.
As when a vernal sun's precarious beam
Is intercepted by a sudden cloud,
Whose turgid folds are overcharg'd with hail;
Some palace, broad, impenetrably roof'd,
Defies the clatt'ring, ineffectual drift,
Which harmless melts away—so flew a show'r
Of missive arms, of arrows, javelins, darts,
With pebbles whirling from the forceful sling,
On Grecian helms and implicated shields;
But innocently fell. Now side to side
The chieftains grappled, and gigantic death
To either deck outstretch'd his purple feet.
Malignant art no engine hath devis'd
To man destructive like his own fell hand
In serried fight. But slaughter now began
To pause in wonder, while the Asian chief,
Whose blazon'd armour beam'd with gold, engag'd
Cecropia's hardy vet'ran foot to foot,
With falchion falchion, shield encount'ring shield.
So, in the season when lascivious heat
Burns in their veins, two branching-headed stags,
Of all the herd competitors for sway,
Long with entangled horns persist in strife,
Nor yield, nor vanquish: stand in gaze the rest,
Expecting which by conquest shall assume
The mastery of all. Now Timon, rous'd
With Meliboeus, and the captive youth,
Starts from his pillow: they attain the poop,
Which instant boarded from an eastern ship
By hostile arms is held. Brave Medon quits
His former station; Aeschylus he leaves
A firm defender there: his falchion keen
Aloft he waves. As some tremendous shark,
Who with voracious jaws resistless foams
Along the main, and finny tribes devours,
Or drives before him on the sun-bright waves,
Where late secure they wanton'd—Medon's might,
Prevailing thus, the steerage heaps with dead;
Though not in time victorious to retain
Unhappy Timon, Meliboeus good,
And Artamanes, not unwilling borne
With them away to join his friends again.
Two Delphian vessels their auxiliar beaks
Present. More furious had the contest glow'd
In ev'ry quarter; when o'er Malean cliffs
The wind began to howl, the troubled sky
To flash sulphureous, menacing a storm,
Such as Saturnia on the Dardan fleet,
Or Neptune's rage for Polyphemus blind
Dash'd on Laërtes' much enduring son.
The squadrons separate; To the shelt'ring lee
Of Malea steer the Grecians; while their foes
Expatiate o'er the roomy sea, to shun
The local tumults of that stormy shore,
And hold a distant course. O'er Timon's fate
Th' Athenian now finds leisure to lament
With Medon, Medon with responsive grief
For Meliboeus. By return of dawn
The waters calm'd invite the vigorous oars
To recommence their progress. Coasting down
Laconia's sea-beat verge, they wear the day;
Then resting moor in Cynosura's port.
From Aeschylus in sighs these accents broke:
Here Aesculapius by his pow'rful art,
Which dar'd revive departed breath in man,
Offending Pluto, thunder-pierc'd by Jove,
Lodg'd his own clay in Cynosura's mold.
O now to immortality preferr'd,
Kind god of med'cine! wouldst thou hear my suit,
Thou shouldst restore Leonidas, to warm
Unfeeling Sparta; then thy Delphian sire
The menac'd doom of Athens would revoke,
Nor I besprinkle with indignant tears
Laconia's shore. O Locrian guest, I call'd
Thy welcome feet to Athens: thou mayst view
(For so the oracle to me denounc'd)
Her tow'rs in dust.—Minerva's tow'rs to fall
Hath Phoebus doom'd? the Locrian chief exclaim'd;
I, who have lost my country, yet can find
A tear for Athens: I attest the gods,
As in one vessel, Aeschylus, we steer
Together now, thy fortune I will share;
And down her stream, howe'er the tempest roar,
With thee embark'd, will never quit thy side.
The tragic bard unbends his mournful brow,
Thus answ'ring: Gen'rous Medon, I confess,
Approaching nearer to my seat of birth,
I dropp'd a tear of anguish; nature wept
At sad forebodings of destruction there.
But know, a true Athenian ne'er desponds:
Abandon'd by allies, condemn'd by heav'n
To see their city burnt, that gallant race
Will yet assert their liberty; will save
Ev'n faithless Sparta, and thy home redeem.
This said, they slept, till morning gives her sign
To weigh the anchors, and unfurl the sails.
Aurora's third appearance tips with light,
Of roseate tincture, spacious walls and tow'rs
Of no ignoble city, rising clear
From shading mists to view. The poet then:
Lo! Medon, fair Troezene; rich her soil,
Her people gen'rous, to Cecropia's state
Inviolably faithful. See that isle
Which fronts the port; redundant in delights
Of art and nature, though of circuit small,
Calauria shews her verdant round of wood.
Here disembarking, with devotion pure
We must invoke the trident-bearing god.
This isle from Phoebus Neptune in exchange
For Delphi took. Thrice holy is the soil,
Deserving rev'rence, by that pow'r belov'd,
Who shar'd a third of ancient Saturn's reign,
His son a brother to Olympian Jove.
Here shall we greet some wonder of her sex,
The sacerdotal maid. Troezene's laws
One of her noblest daughters in her bud
Establish here presiding, here confin'd
To priestly functions, till the genial god
Of marriage hence redeem her, grown mature
For care less rigid, and a tend'rer tie.
The heroes land, where opening to their sight
An elevation of the ground, attir'd
In flow'r-enamell'd turf, display'd the fane
Of structure vast in marble: brass the gates
Refulgence cast; a peristyle sustain'd
The massy roof; huge columns on their heads
The crisped foliage of acanthus bore,
And high o'erlook'd th' impenetrable shade
Which screen'd the island round. Perennial springs
Supplied melodious currents through the woods,
In artificial beds of pearly conchs
Along the sea-beat margin cull'd by nymphs,
The temple's chaste attendants. Unrestrain'd
Here flow'd the native waters; there confin'd
By marble fountains, win th' enchanted eye
To shady-skirted lawns, to op'ning glades,
Or canopies of verdure: all the founts
Were grac'd by guardian images of gods,
The train of Neptune.—Lo! the gate is thrown
Abroad; the priestess, lovely in her shape
As virgin Thetis to the nuptial arms
Of Peleus led, more blooming than the flow'rs
Beneath her decent step, descends the slope:
A matron staid behind her solemn treads;
Close to her side, in radiant arms, a youth
Who like a brother of the Graces moves.
His head, uncas'd, discovers auburn locks
Curl'd thick, not flowing: his sustaining hand
She, rosy-finger'd, to her own admits.
He seem'd Apollo, not with martial fires
Such as on Titan's race he darted keen,
But with th' enamour'd aspect which he wore
When Clymene he won, or Daphne woo'd:
She Cynthia, not a huntress, when the chace
Of rugged boars hath flush'd her eager cheek,
But gently stooping from an argent cloud,
Illumining mount Latmus, while she view'd
Her lov'd Endymion, by her magic pow'r
Entranc'd to slumber.—Aeschylus approach'd,
To whom the youth: Great bard and warrior, hail!
Whose valiant deeds on Artemisium's flood,
In that first conflict with Barbarian fleets,
I strove to copy: there was all my praise.
Me Troezen's leader, from my post remote,
Thou see'st: forbear to wonder, and attend.
Thy Athens now is desolate—relax
That anxious brow—her constancy, her zeal
For gen'ral freedom, elevate her name
Beyond all triumphs. Her discerning chief,
Themistocles, interpreting the words
Of Pythian Phoebus, prov'd that ships alone,
The fleets of Athens, were the wooden walls
Of refuge. All persuaded, fires and sons,
With mothers, daughters, cheerfully forsook
Their native roofs. Lo! Salamis o'erflows
With your illustrious people; through her towns
Aegina swarms; to multitudes myself
Have been conductor; in Troezenian homes,
By cordial invitation, they reside.
To each a daily stipend by a law
They find allotted, schools with teachers fill'd,
That not unletter'd from Troezene's walls
The sons of learned Athens may depart,
When victory to come rebuilds her tow'rs.
With thee behold me ready to embark
For Salamis again, where anchor'd lies
The whole confederated fleet. I leave
My Ariphilia, this my dear betroth'd,
To fight my country's battles; but return,
I trust in Mars, more worthy of her love:
To her and Neptune I but now consign'd
The most ennobled of Athenian dames.
Ha! see on yonder beach the form divine
Of Aristides, newly wafted o'er
From Troezen: thither, not unbid, he came
From his late virtuous progress, in our bounds
Through willing minds sage counsel to diffuse,
His own exterminated friends console.
Cleander finish'd. Soon th' arrival known
Of Aristides from the temple call'd
The Attic dames, from ev'ry purlieu near,
Who with their children in assembly throng
Around him. Silent tears confess his loss
To them and Athens. His benignant mold
By sympathy had melted into grief;
If wisdom, ever present in his soul,
Had not his long-tried constancy upheld
To their behoof. Environ'd by the troop
Of lovely mourners, stood the godlike man
Like some tall cedar, in a garden plac'd
Where glowing tufts of flow'rs and florid plants
Once bloom'd around; now, sear'd by scorching blasts,
In faded colours pine. In look, in phrase
Humane he spake: Be comforted, and hear
My voice applaud Themistocles, my foe,
Whose counsels have preserv'd you. But what praise
Is yours, O glories of the tender sex!
Who brave the floods, without a murmur leave
Your native, dear abodes for public good!
Ye ornaments of Greece, the pride and boast
Of happy fathers, husbands, brothers, sons!
As yet unseen, Euphemia from the rest
Impatient stepp'd, his mother. At her sight,
The best, the greatest of mankind inclines
Before the authress of his being, low
As some celestial to the rev'rend form
Of Cybele, progenitrix of gods.
Her aged arms extending, she began:
Thy moderation aggravates the crime
Of Athens. Son, remember, when thou bad'st
Our household gods farewel, thy parting pray'r;
That Athens never might regret the loss
Of Aristides. Righteous man! then first
The righteous pow'rs denied a pray'r of thine;
Who with inflicted vengeance for thy wrong
Have sorely taught Athenians to lament
In thee their safety banish'd.—Mother, cease,
He quick replied; controul presumptuous thoughts;
Let such uncomfortable words no more
Be heard by these already plung'd in woe:
It is Laconia, who her aid withholds,
Cecropian tribes afflicts. But, noble dames,
In this asylum sojourning a while,
Trust your own merits, and a guardian god;
The sons of Athens on his own domain
He will exalt by conquest, soon transport
Her daughters back to liberty and peace:
From him that grace continue to deserve,
By resignation to his brother Jove,
Who loves the patient.—As on lands adust
By hot solstitial rays, when genial clouds,
In season due unbosoming their stores
Of kindly rain, new dress the pasture brown;
Again the flowrets on the meadows spring;
O'er meadows, fresh in verdure, youthful steeds,
Led by the parent females, joyous bound,
The heifers gambol, kids and lambkins dance,
The birds in dripping bow'rs their plumes repair,
And tune their choral, gratulating throats—
So consolation from his blameless mouth,
With looks benevolent, in soothing tones
Relieves dejection. Soft composure smooths
Each matron's forehead; virgins smile around;
With sprightly feet the children beat the turf,
Him as their father hail in shrill delight.
Not so his own two daughters: infants young,
A dying mother's pledge, Euphemia's charge,
His side they leave not, clinging to his knees
Like woodbines sweet about some stately tree:
He kiss'd, he bless'd them, but controul'd his tears.
Now tow'rds the bay with Aeschylus he turns;
Cleander follows. Ariphilia mute
Stands fix'd in tears; as Niobe, congeal'd
By grief to marble, through its oozing pores
Distill'd sad moisture, trickling down unheard.
On Sipylus the nymphs, by pity call'd,
The weeping rock environ'd; so the train,
Who minister in Neptune's sacred dome,
Inclose their priestess, whom her matron sage
Leads from Cleander's oft reverted sight.
End of the Second Book.
THE ATHENAID.
BOOK the THIRD.
O'ER his own squadron soon Troezene's chief
Hath reassum'd command; the rest embark
Aboard the Delphian. Aeschylus then spake:
To Salamis we hoist returning sails:
Say, Aristides, shall my voice, of weight
Among the tribes, solicit thy recal?
Our country wants that helpful hand of thine.
No, Aristides answers, this again
Might waken faction; let the monster sleep.
Themistocles directs united minds,
In him confiding: not the stock reviv'd
Of all Cecropia's heroes since her birth,
Could like this union prop the Attic state.
Brave too the son of Neocles, expert,
Cool, politic; his talents will uphold
The public safety for his own renown.
May he enjoy a glory so acquir'd!
My secret counsels from Aegina's isle
Shall not be wanting: for my country's sake,
Which I forgive, him, author of my wrongs,
My utmost efforts shall advance to fame.
The gulph Saronic now admits their keel.
By Epidaurus coasting, they attain
The cape of high Spiraeum, which o'erlooks
Aegina. Guided by Aurora's light,
Th' illustrious exile on that isle they land;
Thence veering, steer for Salamis. These words
Now break from Medon; Silent have I gaz'd
On Aristides, shortly must behold
Themistocles; Athenian friend, explain
Between such men what cause produc'd their feuds.
Their diff'rent merits, Aeschylus replied,
Rais'd emulation in their younger days.
A soldier's part they gallantly achiev'd
In the same rank at Marathon; I saw,
Admir'd their valour. For distinction high
In pow'r and fame, Themistocles hath us'd
His num'rous virtues; Aristides walk'd
In virtuous paths, alone by virtue mov'd;
For him his justice hath a title gain'd
Of JUST. The son of Neocles, inflam'd
By envy, stirr'd the people's jealous fear
Against his rival to assert a law,
Where, by inscription of his name on shells,
A citizen so potent, that his will
Seems only wanting to subvert the state,
Is by concurrence of six thousand hands
Doom'd for ten years to absence from their bounds,
Without disgrace or mulct. Among the tribes
Themistocles hath since obtain'd a sway
Which might incur the rigour of that law;
Yet by the gods his influence supreme
He at this crisis gallantly employs
To save the public.—Lift thy wond'ring eyes!
The whole confederated fleet of Greece,
Four hundred gallies, bulwark all the round
Of Salamis: one animated mass
That island shews; from swarms of either sex,
And ev'ry age, dales, hillocks seem to heave
With undulating motion.—His discourse
Clos'd with his voyage: on the furrow'd sands
Of Salamis the vessels rest their keels;
Where living waters from a copious spring
Discharge their bubbling current. On a smooth,
But gently-shelving green, pavilions rose;
One from the rest sequester'd, under shade
Of oaks above, was neighbour to the fane
Of Telamonian Ajax, hero known
At Troy: the Attic phalanx then he join'd,
By Athens honour'd since with rites divine.
This tent, by ensigns of command in front
Adorn'd, Themistocles possess'd: alone
He now remain'd; artificer sublime
Of great expedients, in the greatest storms
Which rock a state, he, politic and firm,
In manly strife with fortune when she frown'd,
Whene'er she smil'd her favour to secure—
He now, to feed his enterprising soul,
Successes past enumerating sat,
Thus in a glow of thought: While others dream'd
Of rest and safety permanent in Greece,
I from the day of Marathon presag'd
The war begun, not finish'd; I, in time,
Exhorted Athens to construct her fleet,
A destin'd refuge; for the sail and oar,
The shrouds and rudder, I her lusty youth
Prepar'd; ere yet the Hellespont was bridg'd,
I cur'd intestine feuds distracting Greece;
When fate remov'd Leonidas from earth,
My penetration, fathoming the depths
Of ocean, like futurity foresaw
Laconia's sloth; yet undismay'd I form'd
The mighty plan to save th' Athenian state
By yielding Athens to Barbarian flames.
That I might plead the mandates of a god,
I won, by secret gifts, the Pythian maid
An oracle to render, which I fram'd;
Th' interpretation to enforce, that ships
Were wooden walls, Minerva's priest I gain'd
Among the people to imprint belief
By feign'd portents, and all religion's craft,
That to the sea their deity was fled,
Th' Acropolis deserting. Thus at will
This restive, fierce democracy I sway
For their salvation, and my own behoof
In pow'r and lustre .... Interrupting here
His eagle vanity in lofty soar,
The warrior-poet and Oïleus' son
Appear. Serene and vacant he descends
At once to affability and ease;
As from his airy tow'r the lark, who strikes
Heav'n's highest concave with his matin trill,
His pinions shuts, and tranquil drops to earth.
Of Aristides Aeschylus he knew
The friend approv'd; him courteous he salutes:
Thy eloquence and arms, the gen'rous toils
Of Aristides too, have reach'd my ear
By late intelligence. Thus far at least
You have prevail'd; this navy is enlarg'd
By squadrons new from various Grecian states.
Is not this Medon? Honour'd in thy sire,
More in thy own deservings, my embrace
Accept; accept the welcome of this tent.
Myronides now joins him, mighty chief!
The destin'd scourge of Thebes; Xanthippus, soon
At Mycale to conquer; in his hand
Young Pericles, that future star of Greece;
Then Cimon, fated on the land and main
To gather palms in one triumphant day;
Subaltern warriors to the prudent son
Of Neocles. Saluting these, he spake:
My gallant fellow-citizens, you come
To learn the issue of this day's debate
In gen'ral council. Wisely did we cede
To Spartan Eurybiades command;
The diff'rent squadrons to their native ports
Had else deserted. Irksome, I confess,
This acquiescence; but occasion looks
Disdainful back on him who lets her pass;
You have embrac'd her. Yielding to the Greeks,
You fix their station here, the num'rous foe
In narrow streights between Psyttalia's isle
And Salamis to face. Can he possess,
Who sees a treasure scatter'd on the ground,
Unless he stoop? So prostrate in your sight
Lies Greece, that precious treasure. Can you rule
Before you save? On union safety grows.
Resigning now an empty name of pow'r,
Your moderation, winning grateful states,
Will to your own a real sway procure
Of long duration. Lacedaemon's pride,
Her best allies abandoning—a force
Of ten weak vessels sparing to a fleet,
Where Attic hands unfurl two hundred sails—
Shall pay hereafter retribution full
To you, Athenians, out of ashes rais'd
From her to wrest ascendancy in Greece.
Not sweetest music lulls the melting soul
Beyond his artful eloquence, which soothes
Their warm, their injur'd virtue. They reply:
To thee, not Sparta, cheerful we submit,
Our leader sole; thou judge and act for all.
Now to his frugal Attic meal they sat;
Where Aeschylus and Medon, each in turn
Unfolding amply his adventures, won
Attention: pleasing information charm'd
Deluded time, till midnight prompted sleep.
Thus, after labours past, the martial bard
His countrymen rejoin'd. The hostile ships,
Which gave him battle under Malea's cape,
Veer'd for the streights Euboean, where the fleet
Of Asia moor'd. Subsiding on their way,
The wind grants leisure for the Persian chief
To view the captives. Artamanes steps
Before the rest: on sight of Caria's queen,
Great Artemisia, who commanded there,
His cheek, with recollection of his sire
To her so late perfidious, reddens warm.
She first to him: Argestes could behold
Me worsted, long resisting adverse fate
On fam'd Thermopylae's disastrous field;
My danger he enjoy'd: his rescued son,
Whose growing merit wins observant eyes,
I see with gladness; welcome to my deck!
But who is he, disconsolate in mien?
O rev'rend man of sorrows, lift thy head!
From Artemisia no dishonour fear.
He makes no answer—Artamanes, speak.
The youth replies: His name is Timon, chief
And priest in Delphi; on our inroad there,
My brother, Mithridates, snatch'd away
From his paternal breast a noble maid,
An only child. His mind is darken'd since
By frenzy; my compassion his distress
Hath ever tended, fervent now implores
Thou wouldst commit him to my grateful care:
Myself am debtor to indulgent Greeks.
In smiles the princess answer'd: Gen'rous youth!
Couldst thou protect him, I would trust thy care;
But those deform'd by ignominious deeds
May exercise in malice stronger pow'r
Than thou in goodness: for the present lay
Th' unhappy Delphian on a bed of rest.
Beside her waits Aronces, high in trust,
A hoary senior, freedman of her sire.
On Meliboeus, on the queen, he fix'd
Alternate looks; then earnest him address'd:
O thou of noble frame, in lowly garb,
Speak whence thou com'st, thy own, thy father's name.
What region gave thee birth? Did nature print,
Or some disaster, on thy cheek that mark?
I am not curious from a slender cause.
The swain replied: From nature I derive
That mark; of parents, of my native seat,
Within this breast no traces now survive;
In childhood stol'n by pirates, I was sold
(Heav'n there was gracious) to the best of men:
Full thirty annual suns have since elaps'd.
He oft appris'd me, that my infant lips
In Grecian accents would repeat the names
Of Lygdamis and Dirce; so I styl'd
My sire and mother.—O imperial dame,
Thyself the seed of Lygdamis, exclaim'd
The ancient man. If circumstance be proof,
He is thy brother, Haliartus, stol'n
Within that period from thy father's tow'r
Wash'd by the waves, that fair abode retir'd.
Halicarnassus mourn'd the dire event.
He is thy likeness. I, preferr'd to rule
Thy father's household; I, whose faithful arms
So oft the infant Haliartus bore,
So oft with eyes delighted have perus'd
That object dear, I never can forget
That signal mark, coeval with his birth,
Distinguishing thy brother.—Pensive, mute,
Uncertain rests the queen.—He still proceeds:
Behold thy son, Leander, melts in tears!
It is the touch of nature hath unclos'd
That tender spring.—To him the regal dame:
Old man, thou know'st I honour, I conside
In thy untainted faith. All strange events,
Dress'd in affecting circumstance, excite
These soft emotions; such in ev'ry breast
Should rise, but not decide. Pure truth is built
Not on our passions; reason is her base.
Him to accept my brother, needs more proof;
But to his manly and ingenuous looks
I render homage. Let him case his limbs.
In Carian steel, and combat near my side;
Let deeds illustrate an exalted mind;
Then, whether kin or alien to my blood,
He like a brother shall obtain regard
From Artemisia.—Meliboeus here:
Endear'd to heroes of Oïlean race,
I claim with none alliance; I have liv'd
With them in joy, from ignorance been rais'd
By them to knowledge, from the lowly state
Which heav'n's deciding providence ordain'd,
To their deserv'd regard, my utmost wish.
To them restore me; I request no more
From deities or mortals. Case my limbs
In Carian armour splendid as thy own,
Ne'er shalt thou see me combat near thy side
Against the Grecians. Place of birth, or blood
Of noblest dye in kindred, quite estrang'd
By time and fortune, I reject for Greece;
Greece, my kind nurse, the guardian of my youth,
Who for my tutors did her heroes lend.
My dear affections all are center'd there,
My gratitude, my duty.—By the hand
She grasps the gallant captive, and proceeds:
Thy sentiments are noble, they bespeak
The care of heroes; thy release my hopes
Forbid, my tend'rest wishes; to constrain
Thy presence here, while we assail thy friends,
I scorn. Aronces, launch a nimble skiff;
On him attendant, reach Nicaea's walls,
For him transport a suit of arms compelete;
Nor let unhappy Timon want thy care.
Thee, Greek or Carian, brother, friend, or soe,
Whate'er thou prov'st hereafter, I will greet
Again, my heart so prompts me; I require
No plighted word, no token; ere we meet
Once more at least, thou wilt not, I confide,
Thou canst not harbour such a thought as flight
From Artemisia.—Meliboeus look'd
Integrity; he felt too full for words,
And sees her thoughtful and perplex'd retire.
Aronces now on Artamanes calls;
With him, and either captive, he embarks;
Of Carian arms he lodges on the poop
A rich-emblazon'd suit. The pinnace light
Along the shore, from ev'ry foe secure,
Skims o'er the waters with distended sails,
Swift as a vig'rous stag who hears no cry
Of dogs or men, but o'er the champaign green
Or valley sweeps, to glory in his speed
And branching antlers. On the form and port
Of Meliboeus long Aronces fed
His eager eye, unsated with delight;
At last he spake: My lord, Nicaea's fort,
A garrison of Xerxes, will afford
A refuge kind, till Caria's queen her sail
Of visitation hoists; the setting sun
Will see my lord safe landed in the cove.
That splendid title thou dost ill bestow
On my condition, Meliboeus then.
To whom Aronces: Oh thou art my lord,
Thou art the son of Lygdamis! My heart,
Old as I am, experienc'd in events,
Without a cause to such excess of joy
Would ne'er mislead me.—Honest hearts, rejoin'd
The other, oft are credulous, and lead
The mind to error; art thou sure, my friend,
That I am no impostor, who hath heard
Of Lygdamis and Dyrce, and apply
Their names to falsehood?—Haliartus, no!
Exclaims Aronces; I before me see
My noble master, Lygdamis, restor'd;
Such as he was when thou, his child, was lost.
Oh! lend attention—lo! the winds are still,
The sea unruffled, while my tongue begins
A tale which once with horror pierc'd my soul,
ut in thy hearing rapt'rous I repeat:
Halicarnassus gave thy father birth,
Her most illustrious citizen; with twins
Thy mother's bed was bless'd; thy sister one,
That Artemisia, glory of her sex,
Bestow'd in marriage on the Carian king;
Thou art the other. Oft thy sire abode
Within a tow'r delightful, but remote,
Wash'd by the billows; one disastrous day,
As thou wast tripping on the silver sands,
Thy nurse attending with some faithful slaves,
A troop of pirates landed; all thy train
Defending thee were kill'd, or wounded sunk
Disabled on the beach; with various spoil,
From those unguarded borders, they convey'd
Aboard their vessels thee their richest prize.
Aronces paus'd.—From Timon, listing by,
This exclamation broke: My daughter too
May be recover'd!—Artamanes here:
Myself, redeem'd from capture, pledge my faith
That I will struggle to restore thy child.
Night dropp'd her dusky veil; the pinnace gain'd
Nicaea, Locrian fortress, seated nigh
Thermopylae; ensuing morn proclaims,
By shouts and clangour, an approaching host.
That gate of Greece, by Lacedaemon's king
So well maintain'd, defenceless now admits
Uncheck'd Barbarian inroads: thus a mound
By art constructed to restrain the sea,
Or some huge river's course, neglected long,
And unsustain'd by vigilance and care,
Affords a passage new to whelming floods,
Whose surface hides fertility in waste;
Till some sagacious architect oppose
To nature's violence a skill divine,
Prescribing where th' obedient wave shall flow.
To his companions Artamanes spake,
As in their sight, extended from a tow'r,
Thermopylae in torrents from its mouth
Pours mingled nations: See Mardonius there,
The son of Gobryas, author of this war,
The flow'r of Asia's captains. At the time
We first attack'd this pass, with num'rous bands,
A distant range of Macedon and Thrace
He was detach'd to ravage and subdue,
Triumphant now returning. Friends, farewel!
Him I must follow. Timon, may the light
Of Mithra shine propitious on m
days
As I protect thy daughter, and restore,
If fate so wills, her spotless to thy arms.
These words, relumining with hope, compos'd
The clouded soul of Timon. Swift the youth,
In vigour issuing through the portal, mix'd
Among his native friends: a blithsome steer,
At op'ning dawn deliver'd from the stall,
Thus o'er the flow'ry pasture bounding, joins
The well-known herd. Mardonius him receiv'd,
Foe to Argestes, cordial to his son,
Mardonius all-commanding, all in frame,
In nervous limbs excelling, like that bull
Who stemm'd the billows with his brawny chest,
Who on his back of silver whiteness bore
Europa's precious weight to Cretan strands,
Himself a god transform'd. New martial pow'rs
Are here from Haemus, from Pangaean snows.
A Greek in lineage, Alexander here,
Young sov'reign o'er Barbarians, leads to war
His Macedonian troops. To Athens bound
By mutual hospitality, he lov'd
That gen'rous city; now, by force compell'd,
He arms against her. But persuasive love,
The charms and virtues of a Grecian fair,
Will wake remembrance of his Grecian race,
To better counsels turn his youthful mind.
That Asia's king was now advanc'd to Thebes,
Intelligence is brought; this known, a steed
Of swiftest pace Mardonius mounts; command
To Tiridates delegates—Thy force
Extend o'er Locris, o'er the Phocian bounds,
Our conquests new. This giv'n in charge, he speeds,
With no companion but Argestes' son,
Nor other guard than fifty horsemen light,
To greet the king. The second morning shews
Cadmean Thebes, whose citadel was rais'd
By stones descending from Cithaeron's hill
Spontaneous, feign'd in fables to assume
A due arrangement in their mural bed
At sweet Amphion's lute; but truth records,
That savage breasts by eloquence he tam'd,
By his instructions humaniz'd, they felt
The harmony of laws and social ties.
To him succeeded stern Agenor's son,
Phoenician Cadmus, he who letters brought
From Tyre to Greece; yet ignorance o'erwhelm'd
His generation; barbarous of heart,
Obtuse of mind they grew; the suries there,
There parricide and incest reign'd of old,
Impiety and horror: more debas'd,
They now for gold their liberty exchange;
They court a tyrant, whose Barbaric host
Flames round their bulwarks, harrows up their plain,
Lays waste their plenty, drinks Asopus dry,
Their swift Ismenus, and Dircaean spring.
End of the Third Book.
THE ATHENAID.
BOOK the FOURTH.
THE Persian host in readiness was held
Ere dawn; Aurora sees the signal given;
Now trumpets, clarions, timbrels mix their sounds;
Harsh dissonance of accents, in the shouts
Of nations gather'd from a hundred realms,
Distract the sky. The king his march renews
In all his state, collected to descend
Precipitate on Athens; like the bird
Of Jove, who rising to the utmost soar
Of his strong pinions, on the prey beneath
Directs his pond'rous fall. Five thousand horse,
Caparison'd in streak'd or spotted skins
Of tygers, pards, and panthers, form'd the van;
In quilted vests of cotton, azure dyed,
With silver spangles deck'd, the tawny youth
Of Indus rode; white quivers loosely cross'd
Their shoulders; not ungraceful in their hands
Were bows of glist'ning cane; the ostrich lent
His snowy plumage to the tissued gold
Which bound their temples. Next a thousand steeds
Of sable hue on argent trappings bore
A thousand Persians, all select; in gold,
Shap'd as pomegranates, rose their steely points
Above the truncheons; gilded were the shields,
Of silver'd scales the corselets; wrought with gems
Of price, high-plum'd tiaras danc'd in light.
In equal number, in resembling guise,
A squadron follow'd; save their mail was gold,
And thick with beryls edg'd their silver shields.
In order next the Magi solemn trod.
Pre-eminent was Mirzes; snowy white
Their vestments flow'd, majestically pure,
Rejecting splendour; hymning as they mov'd,
They sung of Cyrus, glorious in his rule
O'er Sardis rich, and Babylon the proud;
Cambyses victor of Aegyptian Nile,
Darius fortune-thron'd; but flatt'ry tun'd
Their swelling voice to magnify his son,
The living monarch, whose stupendous piles
Combin'd the Orient and Hesperian worlds,
Who pierc'd mount Athos, and o'erpower'd in fight
Leonidas of Sparta. Then succeed
Ten coursers whiter than their native snows
On wintry Media's fields; Nicaean breed,
In shape to want no trappings, none they wore
To veil their beauty; docile they by chords
Of silk were led, the consecrated steeds
Of Horomazes. Sacred too a car,
Constructed new of spoils from Grecian fanes,
In splendour dazzling as the noontide throne
Of cloudless Mithra, follow'd; link'd in reins,
In traces brilliant overlaid with gems,
Eight horses more of that surpassing race
The precious burden drew; the drivers walk'd,
None might ascend th' inviolable seat;
On either side five hundred nobles march'd
Uncover'd. Now th' imperial standard wav'd;
Of Sanders wood the pedestal, inscrib'd
With characters of magic, which the charms
Of Indian wizards wrought in orient pearl,
Vain talisman of safety, was upheld
By twelve illustrious youths of Persian blood.
Then came the king; in majesty of form,
In beauty first of men, as first in pow'r,
Contemplating the glory from his throne
Diffus'd to millions round, himself he deem'd
Not less than Mithra who illumes the world.
The sons of satraps with inverted spears
His chariot wheels attend; in state their sires,
The potentates of Asia, rode behind;
Mardonius absent, of the gorgeous train
Argestes tower'd the foremost; following march'd
A square battalion of a thousand spears,
By Mithridates led, his eldest born;
Him the lascivious father had depriv'd
Of Amarantha; dangerous the flames
Of vengeance darted from his youthful eye.
Th' immortal guard succeeded; in their van
Masistius, paragon of Asia's peers,
In beauteous figure second to the king,
Among the brave pre-eminent, more good
Than brave or beauteous; to Mardonius dear,
His counsellor and friend, in Xerxes' court
Left by that gen'ral, while in Thrace remote,
To counterpoise Argestes. Tried in arms,
In manners soft, though fearless on the plain,
Of tend'rest feelings, Mindarus, to love
A destin'd captive, near Masistius rank'd;
Ariobarzanes next, whose barb'rous mien
Exemplified his fierceness. Last of horse,
With Midias, pow'rful satrap, at their head,
A chosen myriad clos'd the long array.
From these were kept three hundred paces void;
Promiscuous nations held their distant march
Beyond that limit; numberless they roll'd,
In tumult like the fluctuating sands,
Disturb'd and buoyant on the whirling breath
Of hurricanes, which rend the Libyan wastes.
To Thebes descending, soon Mardonius learn'd
That pioneers, with multitudes light-arm'd,
Detach'd before the army, bent their course
To Athens. On he speeds, rejecting food,
Disdaining rest; till midnight Cynthia shews
A vaulted hollow in a mountain's side;
There in his clanging arms Mardonius throws
His limbs for slight refreshment; by him lies
Argestes' son; to pasture springing nigh,
The troop dismiss'd their steeds, and slept around.
To superstition prone from early age
Was Gobryas' son; o'erheated now by toil,
Yet more by thirst unsated of renown,
His soul partakes not with her wearied clay
In sleep repose; the cavern to her view
Appears in vast dimension to enlarge,
The sides retire, th' ascending roof expands,
All chang'd to crystal, where pellucid walls
Expose to sight the universe around.
Thus did a dream invade the mighty breast
Of that long matchless conqueror, who gave
Italia's clime a spoil to Punic Mars,
When on the margin of Iberus lay
The slumb'ring chief, and eagerly to birth
The vast conception of his pregnant mind
Was struggling. Now Mardonius to himself
Seems roving o'er the metamorphos'd cave;
Orbicular above, an op'ning broad
Admits a flood of light, and gentlest breath
Of odorif'rous winds; amid the blaze,
Full on the center of a pavement, spread
Beyond whate'er portentous Aegypt saw
In Thebes or Memphis, Fame, presiding there,
Gigantic shape, an amethyst entire,
Sits on a throne of adamant. On strength
Of pillars, each a topaz, leans the dome;
The silver pavement's intervening space
Between the circling colonnade and wall
With pedestals of diamond is fill'd;
The crystal circuit is comparted all
In niches verg'd with rubies. From that scene
The gloom of night for ever to expel,
Imagination's wanton skill in chains
Of pearl throughout the visionary hall
Suspends carbuncles, gems of native light,
Emitting splendour, such as tales portray,
Where Fancy, winning sorceress, deludes
Th' enchanted mind, rejecting reason's clue,
To wander wild through fiction's pleasing maze.
The oriental hero in his dream
Feels wonder waking; at his presence life
Pervades the statue; Fame, slow-rising, sounds
Her trumpet loud; a hundred golden gates
Spontaneous fly abroad; the shapes divine,
In ev'ry age, in ev'ry climate sprung,
Of all the worthies since recorded time,
Ascend the lucid hall. Again she sounds
A measure sweeter than the Dorian flute
Of Pan, or lyre of Phoebus; each assumes
His place allotted, there transform'd is fix'd
An adamantine statue; yet unfill'd
One niche remains. To Asia's gazing chief
The goddess then: That vacancy for thee,
Illustrious son of Gobryas, I reserve.
He thus exults: Bright being, dost thou grant
To Persia triumphs through my conqu'ring spear.
He said: that moment through the sever'd earth
She sinks; the spacious fabric is dissolv'd;
When he, upstarting in the narrow cave,
Delivers quiek these accents: Be renown
My lot! O Fortune, unconcern'd I leave
The rest to thee. Thus dauntless, ere his sleep
Was quite dispers'd; but waken'd soon he feels
Th' imperfect vision heavy on his mind
In dubious gloom; then lightly with his foot
Moves Artamanes; up he springs; the troop
Prepare the steeds; all mount; Aurora dawns.
The swift forerunners of th' imperial camp
Ere long Mardonius joins, where Athens-lifts
Her tow'rs in prospect. Unexpected seen,
Their mighty chief with gen'ral, cordial shouts
They greet; their multitude, their transport, clear
His heart from trouble. Soon Barbarian throngs
With shading standards through Cephissus wade,
Who, had his fam'd divinity been true,
His shallow stream in torrents would have swoln
A while, to save the capital of Greece,
Superb in structure, long-disputed prize
Between Minerva and the god of seas,
Of eloquence the parent, source of arts,
Fair seat of freedom! Open are the gases,
The dwellings mute, all desolate the streets,
Save that domestic animals forlorn,
In cries awak'ning pity, seem to call
Their masters home; while shrieking beaks of prey,
Or birds obscene of night with heavy wings,
The melancholy solitude affright.
Is this the city whose presumption dar'd
Invade the lord of Asia? sternly said
Mardonius ent'ring; whither now are fled
Th' audacious train, whose firebrands Sardis felt?
Where'er you lurk, Athenians, if in sight,
Soon shall you view your citadel in flames;
Or, if retreated to a distant land,
No distant land of refuge shall you find
Against avenging Xerxes: yet I swear
By Horomazes, if thy gallant race
Have sacrific'd their country to contend
With mightier efforts on a future day,
Them I will honour, though by honour forc'd
I must destroy. Companions, now advance;
Unnumber'd hands to overturn these walls
Employ; not Xerxes through a common gate
Shall enter Athens; lay the ruins smooth,
That this offending city may admit,
In all his state, her master with his host
In full array. His order is obey'd.
Through smooth Ismenus, and Asopus clear,
The royal host in slow procession led,
Their first encampment on a district lodge,
Plataea's neighbour; that renown'd abode
Of noblest Greeks was desert. In his tent
The king by night requested audience grants
To Leontiades, that colleague base
Of Anaxander, traitor like himself
To Sparta's hero. Xerxes thus he warns:
Now be the king reminded of the rage
Against his father, which Plataea bore
At Marathon; that recently she brav'd
Himself in Oeta's pass; nor Thespia fought
With less distinguish'd rancour: be inform'd,
The first is near, the other not remote;
Thy vengeance both deserve. Destroy their fields,
Consume their dwellings; thy o'erflowing camp
May spare a large detachment; I will go
Their willing guide. Masistius present spake:
O monarch, live for ever in the hearts
Of conquer'd nations, as of subjects born;
Associate clemency with pow'r, and all
Must yield obedience: thou art master here,
Treat thy new vassals kindly.—In a frown
Argestes: Shall the king with kindness treat
Invet'rate foes and zealous friends alike?
Shall undeserving Thespians, shall the race
Of fell Plataea, unprovok'd who stain'd,
On Attic fields, her spear with Persian blood,
To help detested Athens, shall they share
The clemency of Xerxes, in despite
Of this our Theban host, who faithful gives
Such wholesome counsel? Sov'reign, when I brought
Thy condescension late to Sparta's king,
Among the grim assembly in his tent
Diomedon, Demophilus, I saw,
With Dithyrambus, men preferring death
To amity with thee, commanders all
Of these malignant cities.—Xerxes here:
Approving, Leontiades, thy words
I hear; Masistius, thee my servant loves,
Mardonius, always victor in my name;
Yet learn at last, O satrap! who dost wear
The fullest honours, to partake with me,
What I inherit from Darius, hate
Inflexible, inexpiable hate
To Athens, hate to her confed'rates all.
Go, Theban, chuse what nations of our host
Thou dost prefer; thyself appoint their chief.
I chuse the Caspians, Sacians; name for chief
Brave Mithridates, great Argestes' heir,
Rejoins the traitor. These ferocious most
He best approv'd, and Mithridates chose,
Among the youth most vigorous and fell
In acts of blood. To hear Mardonius prais'd,
Argestes, dreading his return, conceiv'd
A pain, yet temper'd by a secret joy
He felt arise; who, rival of his son,
Long wish'd him distant from the guarded roof
Where Timon's daughter was confin'd. Dismiss'd
To rest, all separate. They renew their march
By day-spring; Leontiades, to wreak
On hapless Thespia and Plataea's walls
The hate implacable of Thebes; the king,
With equal rage, to spoil Minerva's reign.
Her olive groves now Attica disclos'd,
The fields where Ceres first her gifts bestow'd,
The rocks whose marble crevices the bees
With sweetness stor'd; unparallel'd in art
Rose structures, growing on the stranger's eye,
Where'er it roam'd delighted. On like Death,
From his pale courser scatt'ring waste around,
The regal homicide of nations pass'd,
Unchaining all the furies of revenge
On this devoted country. Near the banks
Of desolate Cephissus halting sat
The king; retarding night's affrighted steeds,
The conflagration wide of crumbling tow'rs,
Of ruin'd temples, of the crackling groves,
Of villages and towns, he thence enjoy'd,
Thence on the manes of Darius call'd:
Son of Hystaspes! if the dead can hear,
Thou didst command thy servants to remind
Thy anger daily of th' Athenian race,
Who insolently plough'd the eastern waves,
Thy shores affronted with their hostile beaks,
And burnt thy town of Sardis; at my call,
Ghost of my father! lift thy awful brow;
Rememb'ring now th' Athenians, see thy son
On their presumptuous heads retaliate flames:
Depriv'd of burial, shall their bodies leave
Pale spectres here to wail their city fall'n,
And wander through its ruins.—Closing here
His barb'rous lips, the tyrant sought his couch.
Thy summits now, Pentelicus, and thine,
Haunt of sonorous bees, Hymettus sweet!
Are ting'd with orient light. The Persian host
Renew their progress; Athens soon receives
Their floating banners and extended ranks
Smooth o'er the fosse, by mural ruins fill'd.
As from a course of ravage, in her den
Of high Cithaeron plung'd the monster Sphinx
Her multifarious form, preparing still
For havoc new her fangs and talons dire;
Till her enigma Laius' son resolv'd,
Whence desperation cast her headlong down
The rocky steep; so, after thy career
Of devastation, Xerxes, rest awhile
Secure in Athens, meditating there
Fresh woes to men. Than Oedipus more wise,
Th' interpreter of oracles is nigh;
Soon will the son of Neocles expel
Thee from thy hold, by policy too deep
For thy barbarian council to explore.
Before the Prytanaeum stops the car.
Now savage bands inclose that rev'rend seat
Of judgment; there Mardonius waits. The king,
Pleas'd with his care, salutes him: Thou hast long
Sweat under harness in th' eternal snows
Of Macedon and Thracia, hast my name
There dress'd in ample trophies; but thy speed,
Preventing my arrival, is unknown
To wings of eagles, or the feet of stags.
Mardonius answers: Ever live the king
To find his servants zeal outstrip in speed
The swiftest eagle, or the fleetest stag!
Descend, thou lord of Athens! destin'd soon
To universal sway.—They climb the steps;
Alone Argestes follows. In the hall
These words of high import Mardonius spake:
My liege, the season calls for quick resolves;
By thee entrusted with supreme command,
When thou art absent, to Phaleron's port,
Late arsenal of Athens, all the ships
I order'd from Euboea; they below
Lie well equipp'd and shelter'd, nor remote
The whole united armament of Greece
At Salamis. With Ariabignes great,
Thy royal brother, and for merit nam'd
Thy ruling admiral, the kings of Tyre,
Of Sidon, Caria's princess, and the rest,
I held a council; they concurr'd to fight,
And by one effort terminate the war,
All but the queen, from whose ingenuous mouth
Will I, though differing, faithfully relate
Each argument, each word—'Mardonius, tell
'The king,' she said, 'what peril I foresee
'From this attempt; his ships defeated leave
'His host endanger'd; ever bold, the Greeks
'Are desp'rate now; the want of sustenance
'Will soon disperse them to their sev'ral homes;
'The sea's entire dominion to the king
'Will then be left; whole armies then embark'd
'Through inlets free may pour on Pelops' Isle,
'Whose coast I newly have explor'd with care.
'Mardonius, thou art eager; do not trust
'In multitude; full many in the fleet
'Are false, are cowards. Let our sov'reign shun
'Precipitation; short delay at least
'Is safe; a naval combat lost, is bane.'
A greater bane delay, Argestes here;
Who reading artful in the royal eye
Determination for a naval fight,
His malice thus on Artemisia vents:
My liege forgets that Caria's queen derives
Her blood from Grecian fountains; is it strange
She should confine thy formidable hand,
And so preserve her kindred?—Stern the king:
Though I reject her counsel to forbear
The fight, none better will that fight sustain
Than she, whose zeal, fidelity approv'd,
And valour, none can equal but the son
Of Gobryas. Go, Mardonius, see the fleet
Prepar'd by morning; let Argestes burn
The citadel and temples; I confer
On him that office.—Utt'ring this, he turn'd
Apart; forlorn Argestes hence presag'd
Decline of regal favour, cent'ring all
In Gobrya's son, who fiercely thus pursued:
Thou hear'st the king; now hear a soldier's tone:
Of old I know thee slanderer of worth;
And I, distinguish'd by a late success,
To envious eyes no welcome guest return.
Thou canst traduce the absent, whom thy tongue
Would flatter present. Not in Sufa's court,
Amid the soft security of peace,
We languish now; great Xerxes on the stage
Of glorious war, amid the din of arms,
Can hear thy coz'ning artifice no more.
Oh that he ne'er had listen'd! Asia's lord,
When to a Tyrian trafficker demean'd,
He barter'd for his glory. By my sword,
Leonidas, preferring fame to sway
O'er proffer'd Greece, was noble! What thy part,
Who tamely proff'ring wast with scorn dismiss'd?
Go, burn the fanes! Destruction is thy joy.
He said, departing swiftly; on his way
Meets Artamanes, meritorious youth,
Who, not resembling an unworthy sire,
Had fix'd th' esteem of that illustrious man.
To him Mardonius: Brave Autarctus greet
In words like these—Exalted to the bed
Of bright Sandauce, sister of thy king,
Now is the season to approve thy worth.
Collect ten thousand warriors on the strand
Which faces Salamis; an island near,
Psyttalia nam'd, possess; ere long the foes
Against her craggy border may be driven;
Let spoils and captives signalize thy zeal.
Thou, Artamanes, must attend him there,
Nor let me want intelligence. Farewel!
This mandate giv'n, the active chief proceeds
With steps impatient to Phaleron's port.
End of the Fourth Book.
THE ATHENAID.
BOOK the FIFTH.
THE sun was set; Autarctus and his band,
In haste collected, through nocturnal shades
To small Psyttalia pass'd a narrow frith.
As on a desert forest, where at night
A branching oak some traveller hath climb'd
To couch securely; if the trunk beset
By famish'd wolves in herd, who thirst for blood,
Pale morn discovers to his waking sight,
His hair in terrour bristles, pants his breast
In doubt of safety; thus Aurora shew'd
The unexpected gleam of Persian arms,
Which fill'd Psyttalia, while the Attic strand,
With numbers equal to its sandy stores
Was cover'd, and Phaleron's road with masts,
A floating forest, crowded like the pines,
Majestic daughters of the Pontic woods.
Fair Athens burn'd in sight; embodied smoke
Rose mountainous, emitting pillar'd flames,
Whose umber'd light the newly-dawning sun
But half eclips'd. At intervals are heard
The hollow sound of columns prostrate laid,
The crash of levell'd walls, of sinking roofs
In massy ruin. Consternation cold
Benumbs the Greek spectators, all aghast
Except th' Athenians, whose unshaken minds
To this expected fate resign'd their homes
For independence. Gigantean rang'd
From ship to ship Despair; she drives ashore
The timid leaders, changing late resolves
For gen'rous combat into base retreat.
To seek the shelter of their native ports
They clamour loud; the admiral convenes
A council; him Themistocles address'd:
Now Eurybiades, to whose command
I voluntary yielded, from thy charge,
Not less for Athens than for gen'ral Greece,
I claim a righteous and heroic part,
The promis'd fight in these auspicious streights,
Which, rend'ring vain the multitude of foes,
Assure success. But separate this fleet,
A hundred openings may Barbarians chuse
To Pelops' region; not on ev'ry spot
An isthmian wall is plac'd. Depriv'd of all,
If to your succour we Athenians lose
All claim, ye Greeks, be valiant for yourselves!
See Attica in flames, the temples raz'd,
The tombs defac'd, the venerable dust
Of our forefathers soatter'd in the wind!
Would you avoid calamities like these,
To sound instruction lean; th' almighty gods
Wise counsels bless with prosperous events,
To its own folly wilful blindness leave.
Proud Adimantus, on his birth elate,
The admiral of Corinth, envying long
Cecropia's name and pow'r, arose and spake:
For public safety when in council meet
Men who have countries, silence best becomes
Him who hath none; shall such presume to vote,
Too patient Spartan, nay to dictate here,
Who cannot tell us they possess a home?
For Attica in flames, her temples raz'd,
Her tombs disfigur'd, for th' ignoble dust
Of thy forefathers scatter'd in the wind,
Thou low-born son of Neocles, must Greece
Her welfare hazard on a single day,
Which, unsuccessful, endless ruin brings?
Cleander heard, Troezene's youthful chief;
Warm was his bosom, eloquent his tongue,
Strong-nerv'd his limbs, well exercis'd in arms;
Preventing thus Themistocles, he spake:
Though blood, Corinthian, be of noblest dye,
Base-born the soul when folly is her sire.
Absurdity and malice no reply
Deserve from thee, Athenian! thee, more wise,
More valiant, more distinguish'd in thyself,
Than all the vaunted progeny of gods.
Did you not mourn, ye deities, to see
A nation, you created with their soil,
Forsake that ancient land? or not admire
Your greatest work, the conduct of that man,
Who such a race from such endearing homes,
Wives, husbands, elders, infants, maidens, youths,
In gen'rous quest of liberty could lead?
Do you not look indignant down to hear
Such venomous reproaches on his worth,
A wrong to Greece? Her saviour him I call,
As yet, I trust, his dictates will prevail.
While he declaim'd, Themistocles, who scorn'd
The insolent Corinthian, sat and scann'd
The looks of all; his penetrating fight
Could read the thoughts of men; the major part
He saw averse to battle, Sparta's chief
Uncertain, cold, and slow. Affecting here
Decisive looks, and scorn of more debate,
Thus brief he clos'd: Athenians still possess
A city buoyant on two hundred keels.
Thou, admiral of Sparta, frame thy choice;
Fight, and Athenians shall thy arm sustain;
Retreat, Athenians shall retreat to shores
Which bid them welcome, to Hesperian shores,
For them by ancient oracles reserv'd,
Safe from insulting foes, from false allies,
And Eleutherian Jove will bless their flight:
So said your own Leonidas, who died
For public welfare. You that glorious death
May render, Spartans, fruitless to yourselves.
This said, he left the council; not to fly,
But with his wonted policy compel
The Greeks to battle. At a secret cove
He held in constant readiness a skiff,
In Persian colours mask'd; he there embark'd
The most entrusted of his household, charg'd
With these instructions: Now return my love,
Sicinus, born a Persian, of my house
Not as a slave long habitant, but friend,
My children's tutor, in my trust supreme.
To Xerxes' navy sail; accost her chief
In words like these—Themistocles, who leads
Athenian squadrons, is the monarch's friend,
Approv'd by this intelligence; the Greeks
In consternation shortly will resolve
To separate and fly; let Asia's fleet
Her numbers round in diligence extend,
Investing ev'ry passage; then, confus'd,
This whole consederated force of Greece
Will sooner yield than fight, and Xerxes close
At once so perilous a war.—He ceas'd.
Meanwhile the council wasted precious hours,
Till Eurybiades at length alarm'd
Lest all th' Athenians should retreat incens'd,
Postpon'd the issue to th' ensuing day.
Themistocles, retiring to his tent,
There found his wife; his stratagem on wings
Of execution, left his mind serene;
Relax'd in thought, he trifled with his boy,
Young child, who playful on the mother's lap,
Soon as of Xerxes earnest she enquir'd,
With frowning graces on his brow of down,
Clench'd fast his infant hands. The dame pursues:
O that the Greeks would emulate this child,
Clench fast their weapons, and confront the foe!
Did we abandon our paternal homes,
Our nuptial chambers, from the cradle snatch
Our helpless babes? Did tender maidens join
Unanimous the cry, 'Embark, embark
'For Salamis and freedom!' to behold
The men debating (so the Attic wives
Are told) uncertain if to fight or serve?
Who are the cowards, rather traitors, say?
We will assail them, as the Trojan dames
Did Polymestor, royal thief, who broke
The holiest ties for gold.—Take comfort, love;
All shall be well, Themistocles replied.
Yes, I in thee have comfort, she proceeds;
Thou canst devise some artifice to urge
Ev'n dastards on; Sicinus thou hast sent,
I ask not whither.—In a smile her lord:
With thy permission, then, the gods remain
My confidents: to ease thee, I proclaim
This boy the first of Greeks; he governs thee,
Thou me, I Athens; who shall govern Greece,
As I am sure to circumvent the foes.
Retiring, seek the town; console the dames;
Thy husband never was so high in hope.
She pleas'd, departing, spake: To govern thee
Requires an art which never woman knew,
Nor man; most artful, thou controllest all,
Yet call'st, nay often seem'st, thyself controll'd.
She distant, thus he meditates alone:
True, when I seem controll'd by others most,
Then most assur'd my enterprize succeeds.
O lib'ral nature! science, arts acquir'd,
I little value; while thy light supplies
Profuse invention, let capricious chance
With obstacles and dangers gird me round,
I can surmount them all; nor peace, nor war,
Nor all the swift vicissitudes of time,
E'er gave emergency a birth too strong
For me to govern. On this crisis hangs
My future greatness; whether joy or grief
Shall close the term of being, none foreknow;
My penetrating spirit I will trust
Thus far prophetic; for a time, at least,
I will possess authority and pow'r
To fix a name enduring like the sun.
Thus, in his own strong faculties secure,
To rest he tranquil sunk, and slept till dawn;
Then early rose. Advancing from the shore,
A manly figure he observes, the face
Wrapt in a mantle; as dividing clouds
Reveal th' unmuffled sun, the mantle cast
Aside discovers the majestic front
Of Aristides, who the silence breaks:
Dissensions past, as puerile and vain,
Now to forget, and nobly strive who best
Shall serve his country, Aristides warns
His ancient foe Themistocles. I hear
Thou giv'st the best of councils, which the Greeks
Reject, through mean solicitude to fly;
Weak men! throughout these narrow seas the foe
Is station'd now, preventing all escape.
Themistocles, though covetous of fame,
Though envying pow'r in others, was not bred
In horrid deserts, not with savage milk
Of tigers nurs'd, nor bore a ruthless heart.
He thus replied: With gratitude this foe
Accepts thy welcome news, thy proffer'd aid,
Thy noble challenge; in this glorious race
Be all our strife each other to surpass.
First know my inmost secrets; if the streights
Are all invested with Barbarian ships,
The act is mine; of our intended flight
I through Sicinus have appris'd the foes;
Of his success thee messenger I hail.
The exile then: Such policy denotes
Themistocles; I praise, the Greeks have cause
To bless, thy conduct; teach me now what task
I can achieve; to labour, to advise
With thee commanding, solely to enjoy
The secret pleasure of preserving Greece,
Is my pursuit; the glory all be thine.
Before the council shew that honour'd face,
Rejoins the chief; report thy tidings there.
To preparation for immediate fight
Exhort; such notice they would slight in me,
In thee all men believe.—This said, they mov'd.
Them on their way Myronides approach'd,
Xanthippus, Cimon, Aeschylus, and all
The captains, fixing reverential eyes
On Aristides; this the wary son
Of Neocles remark'd; he gains the town
Of Salamis, the council there is met;
To them th' illustrious exile he presents,
At whose appearance all th' assembly rise,
Save Adimantus; fast by envy bound,
He sits morose; illib'ral then the word,
As Aristides was in act to speak,
Thus takes: Boeotia, Attica reduc'd,
The Dorians, Locrians, you already know;
To me this morn intelligence arriv'd,
That Thespia, that Platea were in flames,
All Phocis conquer'd; thus alone of Greece
The Isle of Pelops unsubdued remains.
For what is lost, ye Grecians, must we face
Such mightier numbers, while barbarian hate
Lurks in Psyttalia, watching for the wrecks
Of our defeated navy? Shall we pause
Now at the Isthmus with united force
To save a precious remnant? Landing there,
Your sailors turn to soldiers, oars to spears;
The only bulwark you have left, defend.
Then Aristides: Ignominious flight
Necessity forbids; Aegina's shore
Last night I left; from knowledge I report.
The hostile navy bars at either mouth
The narrow streight between Psyttalia's Isle
And Salamis, where lie your anchor'd ships.
But shall the Greeks be terrified? What more
Can they solicit of propitious heav'n,
Than such deluded enemies to face,
Who trust in numbers, yet provoke the fight
Where multitude is fruitless?—Closing here,
The unassuming exile straight retir'd.
Cleander ent'ring heard; while Corinth's chief,
Blind with malignity and pride, pursued:
Her strength must Greece for Attica destroy'd
Waste on the credit of a single tongue,
From Athens banish'd? Swift Cleander spake:
Is there in Greece who doubts that righteous tongue,
Save Adimantus? To suspect the truth
Of that illustrious exile, were to prove
Ourselves both false and timid. But enough
Of altercation; from the fleet I come,
The words of Aristides I confirm;
Prepare to fight; no passage have our ships
But through embattled foes.—The council rose.
In this tremendous season, thronging round
Th' accomplish'd son of Neocles, their hopes
In his unerring conduct all repose.
Thus on Olympus round their father Jove
The deities collected, when the war
Of earth's gigantic offspring menac'd heav'n,
In his omnipotence of arm and mind
Confiding. Eurybiades supreme
In title, ev'ry leader speeds to act
What great Themistocles suggests; himself,
In all expedients copious, seeks his wife,
Whom he accosts, encircled where she stood
With Attic dames: Timothea, now rejoice!
The Greeks will fight; to-morrow's sun will give
A glorious day of liberty to Greece.
Assemble thou the women; let the dawn
Behold you spread the Salaminian beach;
In your selected ornaments attir'd,
As when superb processions to the gods
Your presence graces, with your children stand
Encompass'd; cull your fairest daughters, range
Them in the front; alluring be their dress,
Their beauties half discover'd, half conceal'd;
As when you practise on a lover's eye,
Through that soft portal to invade the heart;
So shall the faithful husband from his wife
Catch fire, the father from his blooming race,
The youthful warrior from the maid he loves:
Your looks will sharpen our vindictive swords.
In all the grace of polish'd Athens thus
His charge pronouncing, with a kind embrace
He quits her bosom, nor th' encircling dames
Without respectful admonition leaves
To aid his consort. Grateful in itself
A task she soon begins, which pleases more
As pleasing him. A meadow fresh in green,
Between the sea-beat margin and the walls,
Which bore the island's celebrated name,
Extended large; there oft the Attic fair
In bevies met; Themistocles the ground
To them allotted, that communion soft,
Or pastime, sweetly cheating, might relieve
The sad remembrance of their native homes.
Here at Timothea's summons they conven'd
In multitude beyond the daisies, strewn
Thick o'er the verdure from the lap of spring,
When most profuse. The wives, the mothers here
Of present heroes, there in bud are seen
The future mothers of immortal sons,
Of Socrates, of Plato, who to birth
Had never sprung if Xerxes had prevail'd,
Or would have liv'd Barbarians. On a mount
Timothea plac'd, her graceful lips unclos'd:
Ye wives, ye mothers, and ye fair betroth'd,
Your husbands, sons, and suitors claim that aid
You have to give, and never can so well.
A signal day of liberty to Greece
Expect to-morrow; of the glorious scene
Become spectators; in a bridal dress,
Ye wives, encompass'd with your tender babes,
Ye rev'rend matrons in your sumptuous robes,
As when superb processions to the gods
Your presence graces; but ye future brides,
Now maids, let all th' allurement of attire
Enhance your beauties to th' enamour'd eye:
So from the face he loves shall ev'ry youth
Catch fire, with animating passion look
On her, and conquer. Thus Cecropia's maids,
Who left their country rather than abide
Impure compulsion to Barbarian beds,
Or ply the foreign loom with servile hands,
Shall live to see their hymeneal morn;
Bless'd in heroic husbands, shall transmit
To late posterity the Attic name.
And you, whose exemplary steps began
Our glorious emigration, you shall see
Your lords, your sons, in triumph to your homes
Return, ye matrons—Or with them will die,
If fortune frown, Laodice aloud;
For this I hold a poniard; ere endure
A Persian yoke, will pierce this female heart.
Enthusiastic ardour seems to change
Their sex; with manlike firmness all consent
To meet Timothea there by early dawn
In chosen raiment, and with weapons arm'd,
As chance should furnish. Thus Timothea sway'd,
The emulator of her husband's art,
But ne'er beyond immaculate intent;
At her suggestion interpos'd her friend
Laodice, the consort young and fair
Of bold Aminias, train'd by naval Mars,
From the same bed with Aeschylus deriv'd.
Troezene's leader, passing by, admir'd
The gen'rous flame, but secretly rejoic'd
In Ariphilia at Calauria safe;
He to thy tent, Themistocles, was bound.
Thee to Sicinus list'ning, just return'd
From his successful course, Cleander found,
Thee of thy dear Timothea first inform'd,
While thou didst smile applause. The youth pursued:
From Aristides I deputed come;
He will adventure from Psyttalia's isle
This night to chace the foe, if thou concur
In help and counsel: bands of Attic youth,
Superfluous force excluded from the fleet,
With ready arms the enterprize demand;
Them, with his troop, Oïlean Medon joins.
A noble Grecian, sage, experienc'd, brave,
Returns the chief; my answer is concise:
Sicinus, fly! their pinnaces and skiffs
Command th' Athenian vessels to supply
At Aristides' call; th' attempt is wise,
Becoming such a soldier; thou remain
With him, to bring me tidings of success.
Swift as a stone from Balearic slings,
Sicinus hastens to th' Athenian fleet;
Cleander light th' important order bears
To Aristides, whose exalted voice
Collects the banding youth. So gen'rous hounds
The huntsman's call obey; with ringing peals
Their throats in tune delight Aurora's ear;
They pant impatient for the scented field,
Devour in thought the victims of their speed,
Nor dread the rav'nous wolf, nor tusky boar,
Nor lion, king of beasts. The exile feels
Returning warmth, like some neglected steed
Of noblest temper, from his wonted haunts
Who long hath languish'd in the lazy stall;
Call'd forth, he paws, he snuffs th' enliv'ning air,
His strength he proffers in a cheerful neigh
To scour the vale, to mount the shelving hill,
Or dash from thickets close the sprinkling dew.
He thus to Medon: Of Psyttalia's shore
That eastern flat contains the Persian chief,
Known by his standard; with four thousand youths
Make thy impression there; the western end
Our foes neglect, a high and craggy part;
But nature there through perforated rock
Hath left a passage, with its mouth above
Conceal'd in bushes; this, to me well known,
I will possess; thence rushing, will surround
The unsuspecting Persian. Darkness falls;
Let all embark; at midnight ply the oar.
They hear and march; allotted seats they take
Aboard the skiffs Sicinus had prepar'd,
Impatient waiting, but impatience keeps
Her peace. The second watch is now elaps'd,
That baneful season, mark'd in legends old,
When death-controlling sorcery compell'd
Unwilling spirits back to mortal clay
Entomb'd, when dire Thessalian charmers call'd
Down from her orb the pallid queen of night,
And hell's tremendous avenues unclos'd;
To Asia's mothers now of real bane,
Who soon must wail ten thousand slaughter'd sons.
The boats in order move; full-fac'd the moon
Extends the shadows of a thousand masts
Across the mirror of cerulean floods,
Which feel no ruffling wind. A western course
With his division Aristides steers,
The Locrian eastward; by whose dashing oars
A guard is rous'd, not timely to obstruct
His firm descent, yet ready on the strand
To give him battle. Medon's spear by fate
Is wielded; Locrians and Athenians sweep
The foes before them; numbers fresh maintain
Unceasing conflict, till on ev'ry side
His reinforcement Aristides pours,
And turns the fight to carnage: by his arm
Before a tent of stately structure sinks
Autarctus brave in death. The twilight breaks
On heaps of slaughter; not a Persian lives
But Artamanes, from whose youthful brow
The beaver sever'd by th' auspicious steel
Of Medon, shew'd a well-remember'd face;
The Locrian swift embrac'd him, and began:
Deserve my kindness by some grateful news
Of Meliboeus and the Delphian priest;
Not Aeschylus in pity shall exceed
My care in this thy second captive state.
His grateful news the Persian thus repeats:
Nicaea, fort of Locris, them contains;
Though pris'ners, happy in the guardian care
Of Artemisia. What disastrous sight!
Autarctus there lies prostrate in his blood.
Oh, I must throw me at the victor's feet!
He went, by Medon introduc'd, to kneel;
Forbid by Aristides, he began:
My own compassion to solicit yours,
Without disgrace might bend a satrap's knee;
I have a tale of sorrow to unfold,
Might soften hearts less humaniz'd and just
Than yours, O gen'rous Grecians! In that tent
The widow'd wife of this late envied prince,
Young, royal matron—twenty annual suns
She hath not told—three infants ... At these words
The righteous man of Athens stays to hear
No more; he gains the tent, he enters, views
Sandauce, silent in majestic woe,
With her three children in their eastern vests
Of gems and gold; urbanity forbids
To interrupt the silence of her grief;
Sicinus, waiting nigh, he thus enjoins:
Thou, born a Persian, from a ghastly stage
Of massacre and terrour these transport
To thy own lord, Themistocles; the spoils
Are his, not mine. Could words of comfort heal
Calamity thus sudden and severe,
I would instruct thy tongue; but mute respect
Is all thy pow'r can give, or she receive.
Apprise the gen'ral that Psyttalia's coast
I will maintain with Medon, from the wrecks
To save our friends, our enemies destroy.
He then withdraws; Athenians he commands
Autarctus' body to remove from sight;
When her pavilion now Sandauce leaves,
Preceded by Sicinus. On the ground
She bends her aspect, not a tear she drops
To ease her swelling heart; by eunuchs led,
Her infants follow; while a troop of slaves,
With folded arms across their heaving breasts,
The sad procession close. To Medon here
Spake Artamanes: O humane! permit
Me to attend this princess, and console
At least, companion of her woes, bewail
A royal woman from Darius sprung.
Him not a moment now his friend detains;
At this affecting season he defers
Enquiry more of Meliboeus, known
Safe in Nicaea; Persia's youth departs;
The mournful train for Salamis embark.
End of the Fifth Book.
THE ATHENAID.
BOOK the SIXTH.
BRIGHT pow'r, whose presence wakens on the face
Of nature all her beauties, gilds the floods,
The crags and forests, vine-clad hills and fields,
Where Ceres, Pan, and Bacchus in thy beams
Rejoice; O Sun! thou o'er Athenian tow'rs,
The citadel and fanes in ruin huge,
Dost rising now illuminate a scene
More new, more wondrous, to thy piercing eye,
Than ever time disclos'd. Phaleron's wave
Presents three thousand barks in pendants rich;
Spectators, clust'ring like Hymettian bees,
Hang on the burden'd shrouds, the bending yards,
The reeling masts; the whole Cecropian strand,
Far as Elousis, seat of mystic rites,
Is throng'd with millions, male and female race
Of Asia and of Libya, rank'd on foot,
On horses, camels, cars. Aegaleos tall,
Half down his long declivity where spreads
A mossy level, on a throne of gold
Displays the king environ'd by his court
In oriental pomp; the hill behind,
By warriors cover'd, like some trophy huge
Ascends in varied arms and banners clad;
Below the monarch's feet th' immortal guard,
Line under line, erect their gaudy spears;
Th' arrangement, shelving downward to the beach,
Is edg'd by chosen horse. With blazing steel
Of Attic arms encircled, from the deep
Psyttalia lifts her surface to the sight,
Like Ariadne's heav'n-bespangling crown,
A wreath of stars; beyond, in dread array,
The Grecian fleet, four hundred gallies, fill
The Salaminian streights; barbarian prows
In two divisions point to either mouth
Six hundred brazen beaks of tow'r-like ships,
Unwieldy bulks; the gently-swelling soil
Of Salamis, rich island, bounds the view.
Along her silver-sanded verge array'd,
The men at arms exalt their naval spears
Of length terrific. All the tender sex,
Rank'd by Timothea, from a green ascent
Look down in beauteous order on their sires,
Their husbands, lovers, brothers, sons, prepar'd
To mount the rolling deck. The younger dames
In bridal robes are clad; the matrons sage
In solemn raiment, worn on sacred days;
But white in vesture like their maiden breasts,
Where Zephyr plays, uplifting with his breath
The loosely-waving folds, a chosen line
Of Attic graces in the front is plac'd;
From each fair head the tresses fall, entwin'd
With newly-gather'd flowrets; chaplets gay
The snowy hand sustains; the native curls,
O'ershading half, augment their pow'rful charms;
While Venus, temper'd by Minerva, fills
Their eyes with ardour, pointing ev'ry glance
To animate, not soften. From on high
Her large controlling orbs Timothea rolls,
Supassing all in stature, not unlike
In majesty of shape the wife of Jove,
Presiding o'er the empyreal fair.
Below, her consort in resplendent arms
Stands near an altar; there the victim bleeds,
The entrails burn; the fervent priest invokes
The Eleutherian pow'rs. Sicinus comes,
Sandauce follows; and in sumptuous vests,
Like infant Castor and his brother fair,
Two boys; a girl like Helen, ere she threw
Delicious poison from her fatal eyes,
But tripp'd in blameless childhood o'er the meads
Of sweet Amyclae, her maternal seat:
Nor less with beauty was Sandauce grac'd
Than Helen's mother, Leda, who enthrall'd
Th' Olympian god. A starting look the priest
Cast on the children; eager by the hand
Themistocles he grasp'd, and thus aloud:
Accept this omen! At th' auspicious sight
Of these young captives, from the off'ring burst
Unwonted light; Fate's volume is unroll'd,
Where victory is written in their blood
To Bacchus, styl'd Devourer, on this isle,
Amid surrounding gloom, a temple hoar
By time remains; to Bacchus I devote
These splendid victims; while his altar smokes,
With added force thy prow shall pierce the foe,
And conquest sit triumphant on thy mast.
So spake religious lips; the people heard,
Believing heard:—To Bacchus, Bacchus give
The splendid victims, hoarse acclaim resounds.
Myronides, Xanthippus, Cimon good,
Brave Aeschylus, each leader is unmann'd
By horror, save the cool, sagacious son
Of Neocles; the prophet he accosts:
Wise, Euphrantides, are thy holy words!
To that propitious god these children bear;
Due time apply from each Barbarian stain
To purify their limbs; attentive watch
The signal rais'd for onset; then employ
Thy pious knife to win the grace of heav'n.
The chiefs amaz'd, the priest applauding look'd.
A young, a beauteous mother at this doom
Of her dear babes is present. Not her locks
She tore, nor beat in agony her breast,
Nor shriek'd in frenzy; frozen, mute, she stands,
Like Niobe just changing into stone,
Ere yet sad moisture had a passage found
To flow, the emblem of maternal grief:
At length the rigour of her tender limbs
Dissolving, Artamanes bears away
Her fainting burden, while th' inhuman seer
To slaughter leads her infants. Ev'ry eye
On them is turn'd. Themistocles, unmark'd
By others, beck'ning draws Sicinus nigh,
In secret thus commission'd: Chuse a band
From my entrusted menials; swift o'ertake,
Like an assistant join this holy man;
Not dead, but living, shall these infant heads
Avail the Grecians. When the direful grove,
Impenetrably dark'ning, black with night,
That antiquated seat of horrid rites,
You reach, bid Euphrantides, in my name,
This impious, fruitless homicide forbear;
If he refuse, his savage zeal restrain
By force.—This said, his disencumber'd thoughts
For instant fight prepare; with matchless art
To rouse the tend'rest passions of the soul
In aid of duty, from the altar's height,
His voice persuasive, audible, and smooth,
To battle thus his countrymen inflames:
Ye pious sons of Athens, on that slope
Behold your mothers! husbands, fathers, see
Your wives and race! before such objects dear,
Such precious lives defending, you must wield
The pond'rous naval spear; ye gallant youths,
Look on those lovely maids, your destin'd brides,
Who of their pride have disarray'd the meads
To bind your temples with triumphal wreaths;
Can you do less than conquer in their sight,
Or conquer'd perish? Women ne'er deserv'd
So much from men; yet what their present claim?
That by your prowess their maternal seat
They may revisit; that Cecropia's gates
May yield them entrance to their own abodes,
There meritorious to reside in peace,
Who cheerful, who magnanimous, those homes
To hostile flames, their tender limbs resign'd
To all the hardships of this crowded spot,
For preservation of the Attic name,
Laws, rites, and manners. Do your women ask
Too much, along their native streets to move
With grateful chaplets for Minerva's shrine,
To view th' august acropolis again,
And in procession celebrate your deeds?
Ye men of Athens! shall those blooming buds
Of innocence and beauty, who disclose
Their snowy charms by chastity reserv'd
For your embraces, shall those spotless maids
Abide compulsion to Barbarian beds?
Their Attic arts and talents be debas'd
In Persian bondage? Shall Cephissian banks,
Callirhoë's fountain, and Ilissus pure,
Shall sweet Hymettus never hear again
Their graceful step rebounding from the turf,
With you companions in the choral dance,
Enamour'd youths, who court their nuptial hands?
A gen'ral paean intercepts his voice;
On ringing shields the spears in cadence beat;
While notes more soft, but, issued from such lips,
Far more inspiring, to the martial song
Unnumber'd daughters of Cecropia join.
Such interruption pleas'd the artful chief,
Who said no more. Descending, swift he caught
The favourable moment; he embark'd,
All ardent follow'd; on his deck conven'd,
Myronides, Xanthippus, Cimon bold,
Aminias, Aeschylus, he thus exhorts:
My brave associates, publish o'er the fleet,
That I have won the Asian Greeks, whom force
Not choice against us ranges, to retain
Their weapons sheath'd, unting'd with kindred blood.
Not less magnanimous, and more inflam'd,
Mardonius too ascends the stately deck
Of Ariabignes; there each leader, call'd
To hear the royal mandate, he address'd:
Behold your king, inclos'd by watchful scribes,
Unfolding volumes like the rolls of fate!
The brave, the fearful, character'd will stand
By name, by lineage there; his searching eye
Will note your actions, to dispense rewards
Of wealth and rank, or punishment and shame
Irrevocably doom. But see a spoil
Beyond the pow'r of Xerxes to bestow,
By your own prowess singly to be won,
Those beauteous women; emblems they of Greece,
Shew what a country you are come to share.
Can victory be doubtful in this cause?
Who can be slow when riches, honours, fame,
His sov'reign's smile, and beauty, are the prize?
Now lift the signal for immediate fight.
He spake applauded; in his rapid skiff
Was wafted back to Xerxes, who enthron'd
High on Aegaleos anxious sat to view
A scene which nature never yet display'd,
Nor fancy feign'd. The theatre was Greece,
Mankind spectators; equal to that stage
Themistocles, great actor! by the pow'r
Of fiction present in his teeming soul,
Blends confidence with courage, on the Greeks
Imposing firm belief in heav'nly aid.
I see, I see divine Eleusis shoot
A spiry flame auspicious tow'rds the fleet.
I see the bless'd Aeacidae; the ghosts
Of Telamon and Peleus, Ajax there,
There bright Achilles buoyant on the gale,
Stretch from Aegina their propitious hands.
I see a woman! It is Pallas! Hark!
She calls! How long, insensate men, your prows
Will you keep back, and victory suspend?
He gives the signal. With impetuous heat
Of zeal and valour, urging sails and oars,
Th' Athenians dash the waters, which disturb'd,
Combine their murmur with unnumber'd shouts;
The gallies rush along like gliding clouds,
That utter hollow thunder as they sweep
A distant ridge of hills. The crowded lines
Of Xerxes' navy, in the streights confus'd,
Through their own weight and multitude ill steer'd,
Are pierc'd by diff'rent squadrons, which their chiefs,
Each with his tribe, to dreadful onset led.
Th' unerring skill of Pallas seem'd to form,
Then guide their just arrangement. None surpass'd
The effort bold of Aeschylus; two ships
Of large construction, boast of naval Tyre,
His well-directed beak, o'erlaid with brass,
Transpierces; Attic Neptune whelms his floods
O'er either found'ring bulk. Three more, by flight
Wreck'd on Psyttalia, yield their victim crews
To Aristides; vigilant and dire
Against the ravager of Greece he stood,
Like that Hesperian dragon, wakeful guard
To Atlantē an fruit. Th' intrepid son
Of Neocles, disdaining meaner spoil
Than Asia's king-born admiral, with sails
Outspread to fresh'ning breezes, swiftly steer'd
By Ariabignes, crashing as he pass'd
The triple tire of oars; then grappling, pour'd
His fierce assailants on the splendid poop.
To this attack the gallant prince oppos'd
His royal person; three Athenians bleed
Beneath him; but Themistocles he meets.
Seed of Darius, Ariabignes falls
In Xerxes' view, by that unrivall'd chief
Whose arm, whose conduct, Destiny that day
Obey'd, while fortune steady on her wheel
Look'd smiling down. The regal flag descends,
The democratic standard is uprear'd,
Where that proud name of Eleutheria shines
In characters of silver. Xerxes feels
A thrilling horror, such as pierc'd the soul
Of pale Belshazzar, last on Ninus' throne,
When in the pleasures of his festive board
He saw the hand portentous on the wall
Of Babylon's high palace write his doom,
With great Assyria's downfal. Caria's queen
Not long continues in a distant post,
Where blood-stain'd billows on her active oars
Dash thick-adhering foam; tremendous sight
To Adimantus, who before her flies
With his dismay'd Corinthians! She suspends
Pursuit; her sov'reign's banner to redeem
Advances; furious in her passage sends
Two ships to perish in the green abyss
With all their numbers; this her sov'reign sees,
Exclaiming loud, my women fight like men,
The men like women. Fruitless yet her skill,
Her courage vain; Themistocles was there;
Cilicians, Cyprians shunn'd his tow'ring flag
On Ariabignes' mast. The efforts joint
Of gallant Troezen and Aegina broke
Th' Aegyptian line, whose chief-commanding deck
Presents a warrior to Cleander's eye,
A warrior bright in gold, for valour more
Conspicuous still than radiancy of arms.
Cleander him assails; now front to front,
Each on his grappled gunnel firm maintains
A fight still dubious, when their pointed beaks
Auxiliar Aeschylus and Cimon strike
Deep in the hostile ship, whose found'ring weight,
Swift from her grapples loosen'd by the shock,
Th' affrighted master on Psyttalia drives
A prey to Medon. Then th' Aegyptians fly,
Phoenicians, fam'd on oriental waves,
Resign the day. Myronides in chace,
Xanthippus, Cimon, bold Aminias gor'd
The shatter'd planks; the undefended decks
Ran purple. Boist'rous hurricanes, which sweep
In blasts unknown to European climes
The western world remote, had nature call'd
Their furies hither, so with wrecks and dead
Had strewn the floods, disfigur'd thus the strands.
Behold Cleander from achievements high
Bears down with all Troezene's conq'ring line
On Artemisia: yet she stops awhile,
In pious care to save the floating corse
Of Ariabignes; this perform'd, retreats;
With her last effort whelming, as she steer'd,
One Grecian more beneath devouring waves,
Retreats illustrious. So in trails of light
To night's embrace departs the golden sun,
Still in remembrance shining; none believe
His rays impair'd, none doubt his rise again
In wonted splendour to emblaze the sky.
Laconian Eurybiades engag'd
Secure of conquest; his division held
The eastern streights, where loose Pamphylians spread
A timid canvass, Hellespontine Greeks,
Ionians, Dorians, and Aeolians rear'd
Unwilling standards. A Phoenician crew,
Cast on the strand, approach th' imperial throne,
Accusing these of treachery. By chance
A bold Ionian, active in the fight,
To Xerxes true, that moment in his ken
Bears down an Attic ship.—Aloud the king:
Scribes, write the name of that Ionic chief,
His town, his lineage. Guards, surround these slaves,
Who, fugitive themselves, traduce the brave;
Cut off their heads: the order is perform'd.
A favour'd lord, expressing in his look
A sign of pity, to partake their doom
The tyrant wild commands. Argestes' heart
Admits a secret joy at Persia's foil;
He trusts that, blind by fear, th' uncertain prince
To him his wonted favour would restore,
Would crush Mardonius, author of the war,
Beneath his royal vengeance; or that chief,
By adverse fate oppress'd, his sway resign.
But as the winds or thunders never shook
Deep-rooted Aetna, nor the pregnant clouds
Discharg'd a flood extinguishing his fires,
Which inexhausted boil the surging mass
Of fumy sulphur; so this grim event
Shook not Mardonius, in whose bosom glow'd
His courage still unquench'd, despising chance
With all her band of evils. In himself
Collected, on calamity he founds
A new, heroic structure in his mind,
A plan of glory forms to conquer Greece
By his own prowess, or by death atone
For his unprosp'rous counsels. Xerxes now,
Amid the wrecks and slaughter in his sight,
Distracted vents his disappointed pride:
Have I not sever'd from the side of Thrace
Mount Athos? bridg'd the Hellespont? Go, fill
Yon sea; construct a causeway broad and firm;
As o'er a plain my army shall advance
To overwhelm th' Athenians in their isle.
He rises; back to Athens he repairs.
Sequester'd, languid, him Mardonius finds,
Deliv'ring bold this soliderly address:
Be not discourag'd, sov'reign of the world!
Not oars, not sails and timber, can decide
Thy enterprize sublime. In shifting strife,
By winds and billows govern'd, may contend
The sons of traffic; on the solid plain
The gen'rous steed and soldier; they alone
Thy glory must establish, where no swell
Of fickle floods, nor breath of casual gales,
Assist the skilful coward, and controul,
By nature's wanton but resistless might,
The brave man's arm. Unaided by her hand,
Not one of these light mariners will face
Thy regal presence at the Isthmian fence
To that small part of yet unconquer'd Greece
The land of Pelops. Seek the Spartans there;
There let the slain Leonidas revive
With all his warriors whom thy pow'r destroy'd;
A second time their gen'rous blood shall dye
The sword of Asia. Sons of those who tore
Th' Assyrian, Lydian scepters from their kings,
Thy Medes and Persians, whose triumphant arms
From distant shores of Hellespont have tam'd
Such martial nations, have thy trophies rais'd
In Athens, bold aggressor; they shall plant
Before thy sight, on fam'd Eurota's shore,
Th' imperial standard, and repair the shame
Of that uncertain flutt'ring naval flag,
The sport of winds. The monarch's look betray'd
That to expose his person was the least
Of his resolves. Mardonius pierc'd his thoughts,
And thus in manly policy pursued:
If Susa, long forlorn, at length may claim
The royal presence; if the gracious thought
Of his return inspire my sov'reign's breast
Throughout his empire to rekindle joy;
Let no dishonour on thy Persians fall,
Thy Medes; not they accomplices in flight
With vile Aegyptians, with Cilicians base,
Pamphylians, Cyprians. Let not Greece deride
A baffled effort in a gallant race
Who under Cyrus triumph'd, whom to fame
Darius led, and thou with recent wreaths,
O conqueror of Athens! hast adorn'd.
Since they are blameless, though thy will decree
Thy own return, and wisely would secure
Superfluous millions in their native homes,
Before chill winter in his barren arms
Constrain the genial earth; yet leave behind
But thirty myriads of selected bands
To my command, I pledge my head that Greece
Shall soon be Persia's vassal. Xerxes pleas'd,
Concealing yet that pleasure, artful thus:
Deliberation to thy counsel due
Shall be devoted; call the Carian queen.
She then was landed; through Cecropia's streets
A solemn bier she follow'd, where the corse
Of Ariabignes lay. Mardonius met,
And thus address'd her: Meritorious dame,
Of all the myriads whom retreat hath sav'd,
Hail! crown'd with honour! Xerxes thro' my voice
Requires thy counsel to decide on mine.
I add no more; thy wisdom, candour, faith
I trust; without a murmur will submit
To thy decision, but to thine alone.
My care shall tend that clay, among the dead
Perhaps the only glorious.—She departs.
He seeks the Magi, greeted in these words:
Receive this body, all which now remains
Of Ariabignes; let no dirge deplore
Him as unhappy; Horomazes smiles
On such a death; your lamentations vent
On human nature, humbled and debas'd
By cowards, traitors, who surviv'd this day,
Ne'er to outlive their shame. Ye vet'ran bands
Of Medes and Persians, who surround in tears
These honour'd reliques; warriors who subdued
The banks of Nile, where Hyperanthes fought,
And late with me through Macedon and Thrace
Swept like a whirlwind; change your grief to rage,
To confidence that, unresisted still,
You on the plain recov'ring what by sea
Is lost, avenging this illustrious dead,
From this enthrall'd metropolis of Greece
Shall carry devastation, sword, and flames
To Lacedaemon, now your only foe.
The native Medes and Persians at his words
Are fir'd, in strength, in courage, not unlike
Their brave commander, who in scorn beheld
Th' inferior herds of nations. Now the sun
Glows on the ocean. To his tent retires
Mardonius; sternly in his wounded soul
The late disgrace of Xerxes he revolves,
Yet soothes his anguish by enliv'ning hope
Of glory. Thus the tawny king of beasts
Who o'er Numidian wastes hath lost a day
In fruitless chace, of wonted food depriv'd,
Growls in his den; but meditates a range,
Enlarg'd and ceaseless, through unbounded woods,
To glut his empty maw. Her charge perform'd,
Before him sudden Artemisia stands.
As Cynthia steps unveil'd from sable clouds
On some benighted traveller, who beats
A path untried, but persevering firm
With undiminish'd vigour, well deserves
Her succ'ring light,—the queen in cheering smiles
Accosts the hero: I have seen the king,
Have heard thy counsel, have approv'd, confirm'd.
Thy spirit, son of Gobryas, I applaud.
Thou, not discourag'd by our foul defeat,
From this unwieldy multitude the brave
Wouldst separate, and boldly at their head
Thy life adventure. Xerxes may assume
A doubtful aspect. Counsel given by thee,
By me approv'd, Argestes may oppose
With all his malice. Only thou suppress
The fiery sparks which animate thy blood;
In patience wait; thy dictates will prevail,
Our common vengeance too that traitor feel,
Whom I saw lurking near the king's retreat.
Farewel.—She leaves him happy in her voice
Of approbation, happier in her eye,
Which spoke for his prosperity a wish;
That eye, enlight'ning her majestic face
With added lustre, from his grateful sense
Of her transcendent talents thus applied
To his behoof. His manly bosom feels,
Beyond a veneration of her worth,
Beyond a friendship to her friendship due,
Desire of her society in war,
Perhaps in peace. Participated thoughts
With her, united counsels, he esteems
A gain to both. His high-aspiring soul
Enjoys the thought, nor entertains a shade
Of jealousy or envy at her fame.
He ruminates: Observing her advice,
I shall succeed. Then starting—Earth and heaven!
Where is Masistius? Oh ungen'rous heart!
Which on the scent of its ambitious chace
Forgot that best of counsellors and guides,
Friend of my infant, youthful, manly age!
If he be lost!—Oh ominous the thought!
Masistius lost!—My fortune, hopes, and joys,
My virtues are no more!—He rushes wild
Abroad; commands a gen'ral search; himself
Down to the port precipitates his course.
The son of Gobryas and the Carian queen
Were thus remov'd. Argestes in that hour
Obtain'd access to Xerxes. Cold with fear,
By fortune tam'd, tormented still by pride,
Th' uncertain king to him their counsel told;
When thus Argestes, feigning wonder, spake:
Dost thou appoint Mardonius king in Greece?
O liberal prince! what servant in thy train
Would not confront all danger to possess
An empire, which the Hellespont alone
Will bound? Already Macedonia's lord,
Young Alexander, all the Thracian chiefs,
Like humble vassals to Mardonius bend.
Why should the king himself not conquer Greece,
Now more than half reduc'd? Complete the work
Appointed; choak the Salaminian floods;
O'erwhelm th' Athenians in their isle, and reign
Thyself supreme. The monarch starts, and wild
In look, commands Argestes to pursue
Th' impracticable toil with all the host;
Then, stretch'd along, in vain solicits rest.
End of the Sixth Book.
THE ATHENAID.
BOOK the SEVENTH.
MEANTIME while Venus from her Colian dome,
Which o'er Phaleron cast a holy shade,
Beheld the shatter'd fleet of Xerxes driv'n
To refuge there precarious; from pursuit
Recall'd, the Greeks, observant of their laws,
Applied their pious labour to collect
Their floating dead, and send with honours due
Such glorious manes to the blest abodes.
With artful assiduity remain'd
Themistocles presiding, so to court
Religion's favour. From the solemn toil,
Accomplish'd now, to Salaminian strands
He veers; the slain are landed; then his deck
Himself forsakes. As Neptune, when the winds,
His ministers of anger to o'erwhelm
The pride of daring mortals, have fulfill'd
His stern behests, and shook the vast profound,
At length composing his afflicted reign,
Serene from sated vengeance seeks the arms
Of Amphitrite, watching his return
With soft impatience in her placid grot
Amidst encircling Nereids; so the chief
To his Timothea in triumphant pace
Advances. She that day had never left
The beach; surrounded by Athenian fair,
She rushes forward to his wish'd embrace.
He stops; defil'd by slaughter, robs his heart
Of such delights, and elegantly thus:
O all-surpassing woman, do not dye
That lovely bosom in Barbarian gore;
The blood of Ariabignes, not my own,
Encrusts thy husband's cuirass. She replies:
Since not thy own, but hostile crimson stains
Thy manly chest, Timothea will partake
The honourable dye. O man divine!
Thus for the public with a public kiss
Thee I salute, thee saviour of all Greece,
Thee scourge of Asia; thus will ev'ry wife
Her husband; sisters, daughters thus infold
Their brothers, sires; their tender hands like mine,
Like mine their panting breasts, in transport bear
These glorious marks of victory. Behold
Those damsels pure, whose maidenly reserve
Forbids such rapture; they in smiles, in tears
Of gratitude and gladness, on the heads
Of gallant youths triumphal garlands place.
Laodice is nigh; she quits th' embrace
Of her Aminias, and accosts the chief:
Think'st thou, O son of Neocles, the dames
Of Athens shrink to see Barbarian blood,
Who would have spilt their own, had fortune frown'd;
Had you, our slaughter'd husbands, left your wives
No other choice than servitude or death?
Fair dame, united to the bravest chief,
In smiles he answers, fortune more benign
Preserv'd those husbands for the happiest lot,
Society with you. In holy brine
Of Neptune's flood permit them now to lave,
That love in bridal decency may greet
Athenian wives. Ye men of Athens, vote
That ev'ry youth and ev'ry maid betroth'd
To-night be wedded. This the gen'ral voice
Confirms a law. His winning words dispers'd
Th' obedient fair; each warrior in the deep
Immers'd his limbs, while Phoebe's argent wheels
Their track pursuing through unclouded skies,
Diffuse around serenity and light.
To his Timothea's mansion soon repair'd
Themistocles; Sicinus there he found,
Who earnest thus address'd him: Thrice I hail
My lord victorious; from thy servant's lips
Now hear a tale to melt the stoniest hearts
Of all but Euphrantides, yet with joy
Reward compassion—To the sable grove,
Where yew and cypress veil'd the hoary walls
Of homicidal Bacchus, swift I led
My choice companions; to the seer I told
Thy pleasure; he indignant heard, and forc'd
The victims forward to the fane abhorr'd.
I follow'd careful, still in patient hope
That he, though slow, would uncompell'd submit
To thy commanding will; we enter'd all;
Sandauce there at length her silence broke,
Whom from her infants none so fell to part.
O house of great Darius! where will end
Thy woes? How many of thy sons are fall'n!
Sad Ariana, sacrifice to love!
Thou sleep'st; thy wretched sister lives to see
Her children butcher'd—On the pavement damp
She threw her limbs, she clasp'd her lovely babes;
They shudd'ring view Sandauce in distress;
Too young to know their danger, they bewail
Their mother, not themselves. The captive youth,
Still sedulous and tender, from the spot,
Where as in shackles of despair she lay,
Essay'd in vain to raise her. Now the seer,
Who in my look determination saw,
Approach'd the loathsome idol, foul by age,
In fell presumption utt'ring thus his wrath:
These victims, Bacchus, did my voice devote
To thy neglected altar; of thy spoil
Themistocles defrauds thee; on his head
Let fall thy vengeance, not on mine, stern god!
This heard, the willing captives I remov'd
From that grim seat of terror to these walls
Of hospitality. Sicinus clos'd,
When Aristides enter'd. Hail, he said,
Well hast thou done, Themistocles! behold
Me come attendant on illustrious dead,
Whom on Psyttalia cast I bring to share
The public funeral honours.—I salute
Thee too, the son of Neocles returns;
Our noble strife to serve the public best
We both have well commenc'd. Prepare thee now
To give thy counsel on my new device
For better service still. Our climate holds
All Asia now, her princes, wealth, and arms;
I can detain her, till consuming time
By famine, sword and pestilence, exhaust
Her strength, and cover Greece with Persian graves.
Too high thy ardour mounts, replies the sage;
Forbear to think of strength'ning such a pow'r
By desperation. To the feeble brute
Necessity gives courage. Such a host
Of men and steeds innum'rous on our fields,
By nature's stimulating wants compell'd
To fight for life, might blast our budding hopes.
Ah! rather some new stratagem devise
To send the Persians back; let famine, want,
Let pestilence pursue their tedious flight,
Depriv'd of succour from their vanquish'd fleet,
Which do thou chace and bury in the waves.
Farewell! my post demands me. Since their foil,
I have observ'd the enemies employ'd
In wild attempts to fill the streight profound
Between Psyttalia and th' Athenian shore.
He gone, these thoughts Themistocles revolves:
I will adopt his counsel, safe for Greece,
Nor less for me; his banishment prolong'd
Will discontent the people, and repeal'd
Place him commander in th' Athenian camp
To rival me. Discouraging the war
By land, confining to the sea our strength,
I shall secure pre-eminence. From thought
To action turn'd, Sicinus he bespake:
Before my presence all the captives bring.
As Bacchus, not Devourer, in a smile
Of heav'nly sweetness, proffer'd soft relief
To Ariadne, when forlorn she sat,
Her fate deploring on the Naxian rock;
So gracious, so consoling were the looks
Themistocles assum'd, in soothing phrase
Accosting thus Sandauce: Thou shalt prove,
So shall thy royal house, afflicted fair!
A cordial friend in me. Sicinus, haste;
Equip the bark which eastern colours dress,
That, ere the moon forsake her lucid path,
Thou mayst transport this princess to the king,
Her infant train, and this ingenuous youth,
With my best greetings. Say, the Athenian chief,
Themistocles, these pledges of his truth
And friendship sends; them rescued I restore,
Him next will save. His Hellespontine bridge
The Greeks vindictive menace to destroy,
An enterprize of horror; this my pow'r,
My dictates singly can and shall impede,
Till he in safety hath regain'd his throne.
Sandauce answers: O thou gen'rous Greek,
To thee, to thine, may fortune ne'er be cold.
But I, partaker of imperial pomp,
In ease, in safety nurtur'd, who have deem'd
My state above the sorrows which torment
Inferior mortals, when my soul reflects
On this new lesson by misfortune taught,
Reflects how lately on a field of blood,
Young as I am, I saw my husband fall,
My children doom'd to sacrifice, myself
To endless bondage, had not heav'n achiev'd
This marvel of compassion in a foe,
I, (O forgive me!) I suspect the lot
Of all, ev'n thine. O prosp'rous, godlike man,
May Horomazes from thy head avert
Vicissitudes like mine! may envious fate
Ne'er bring Sandauce's gratitude to proof!
Thou never want the pity thou hast shewn!
She ceas'd; she wept. When Artamanes spake:
Her debt Sandauce can discharge alone
By grateful tears; but I can promise more.
In Persian thraldom lies a beauteous Greek,
Nam'd Amarantha, Delphian Timon's child;
For that bright maid's redemption I am pledg'd
To her afflicted sire. Thy goodness shower'd
On this excelling princess, shall augment
My zeal the obligation to repay
By Amarantha's freedom; till that hour
Of retribution to thy virtues comes,
We will proclaim them; nations shall admire
Themistocles, and ev'ry heart abhor
Inhuman Euphrantides. Now return'd
Sicinus; him they follow'd. On her breast
The lovely mother hush'd her female babe;
But cold with horror at remembrance deep
Of her unmatch'd calamities that day,
She feebly falter'd o'er the sandy beach;
While Artamanes led in either hand
The tripping boys. Themistocles remain'd
In these reflections, flowing from this proof
Of fortune's changes: Few in Athens long
Sustain their greatness—but to muse on ills
Before they come, both time and thought I waste;
Content at present that esteem procur'd,
By this fair Persian, in her brother's court,
May prove a gain. Timothea now approach'd;
His hand affectionate she press'd and spake:
How sudden thou my hospitable cares
Of their endearing object hast depriv'd!
In woe how graceful is that eastern dame!
How young a mother! On a widow'd bed
How early cast by fortune! Thou hast sent
Sicinus with her; ever-watchful man,
Some new contrivance thou dost bring to birth;
Thou smil'st in silence; listen then to me.
Since Aristides on this isle hath shewn
That face rever'd, when banish'd, his recal
The men of Athens, nay the women wish.
This by Aminias to th' assembled tribes,
Laodice informs me, will be mov'd;
In this expect Myronides the brave,
Xanthippus, Cimon, Aeschylus will join.—
So will thy husband, interpos'd the chief;
I will forestall them, not to others leave
Such merit with our people.—She rejoin'd:
All will applaud thee. Now, my anxious lord,
The second watch its measure hath consum'd;
The moon descends, the sprightly birds are still;
Dead sleep hath laid the soldier on his shield;
The active sailor slumbers; all forget
The hardships, rage, and tumult of the day;
All but thyself reposing. Shall that mind
Continue ranging o'er the field of thought,
In pregnancy exhaustless, till the lark
Salute the day-spring with his early song?
Till thou unresting, unrefresh'd, resume
The statesman's troubles, and the soldier's toils?
Be counsell'd; oft the thunder-bearing god
To Juno listens; thou my voice obey.
He hears; serene conducts her to repose.
As Jove on Ida, by Saturnia charm'd,
Confess'd a rapture never felt before,
While lucid dew of odours from a cloud
Of gold distill'd around him; from the turf
Beneath his feet while hyacinths upsprung,
The unctuous lotos, and the crocus gay,
To grace his secret tabernacle there
Of love celestial; so the Attic chief
To his Timothea, in her chamber pure,
With bridal honours deck'd, perfum'd with flow'rs,
Whate'er the meads of Salamis supplied,
His tender flame in winning language breath'd:
Whoe'er had whisper'd on our nuptial day
That I should view thee, in a time remote
From that sweet aera, with superior joy,
I should have held him ignorant of love.
What is the cause, Timothea, that I feel
My bosom pierc'd by transport yet unknown?
That eastern fair, deliver'd from distress,
Appearing then the fairest of her sex,
Thou dost exceed. Timothea smiling spake:
O thou artificer of sweetest wiles,
Wouldst thou seduce me into vain belief,
That I exceed Sandauce's youthful charms?
But wouldst thou know, my husband (solemn here
She modulates her accents), wouldst thou know
Why thou survey'st me with uncommon joy?
It is the conscience of a noble deed,
Of gather'd trophies never match'd before,
Creates this change. The perils of this day
Were new to Athens, to thy race, and me;
Thy sword hath rescued all, increas'd thy fame,
Thy heart exalted; with increas'd delight,
Thro' that bright medium of a happy mind,
Thou look'st on ev'ry object—sure on me
Not less than others. Artless were these words,
By nature prompted, nature's noblest fire.
They ceas'd discourse. Her loftiness of mind,
His valour, talents, policy, to love
Subside. Perhaps the first of human pairs,
Who in the bless'd Assyrian garden met,
Were not more happy in their first embrace,
Than fair Timothea and her conqu'ring lord!
A pleasing stillness on the water sleeps;
The land is hush'd; from either host proceeds
No sound, no murmur. With his precious charge
Embark'd, Sicinus gently steers along;
The dip of oars in unison awake
Without alarming silence; while the moon,
From her descending, horizontal car,
Shoots lambent silver on the humid blades
Which cleave the curling slood. On carpets soft
Sandauce's babes devoid of sorrow lie,
In sweet oblivious innocence compos'd
To smiling slumber. But the mother's breast
Admits no consolation; when they skim
Psyttalia's frith, at memory severe
Of that disast'rous isle, she sudden sinks
A lifeless image in the watchful arms
Of Artamanes, who had studied well
Her sorrows, knew each tender thought and care,
Humanity his tutor. Swift he calls
Sicinus: Friendly pilot, stay thy course;
We must not leave Autarctus in his gore
Behind, lest grief incurable reside
In this fair breast, perhaps eternal shade
In these extinguish'd eyes. Sicinus feels
A sympathizing pain, of Persian stock
Himself a branch, in Attic soil matur'd;
He stops the bark and lands. The Asian tents
Were still erect, whence Aristides comes
In steel accoutred, to salute the dawn,
Then breaking. Him Sicinus humbly greets,
Requests, obtains the body, which convey'd
On board he careful on the deck bespreads
With canvass new. Impell'd by active strokes
Of oars resum'd, the bounding vessel gains
Phaleron's haven. Artemisia there,
Whose vigilance, augmented by defeat,
Had kenn'd the bark while distant, now arrests
Her further progress; but no sooner hears
The sad intelligence Sicinus gives,
Than swift descending where Sandauce lay,
That mourning fair in friendly strains accosts:
O lift thy head, thou daughter of a king!
Our sov'reign's sister, sister to the man
My soul rever'd, to Hyperanthes good,
The flow'r of Asia's princes! In thy woes
I sharing cordial, cordially rejoice
In thy redemption. Leave this doleful keel;
Think of thy duty to approach the king;
Thy other cares entrust to me.—She said;
They row to shore. To Xerxes, then retir'd,
The queen conducts Sandauce and her train.
The princess thus to him amaz'd began:
A widow'd sister, late a wretched slave,
With these three orphans just redeem'd from death,
Sandauce greets her brother; but her tongue
Would be disloyal to obtrude her tale,
Her tedious tale of sorrows on his ear.
The preservation of her king demands
His first attention; that attention grant
To him who comes deputed by a Greek,
Thy friend, my guardian, saviour of those babes;
Oh listen! thy salvation from his lips
Receive. Fast bound by terror was the mouth
Of Xerxes.—Then Sicinus: He who ranks
Among the Greeks superior in command,
In talents, prudence, policy, and arms,
Themistocles, these pledges of his truth
And friendship sends; them rescued he restores;
Thee next will save. Thy Hellespontine bridge
The Greeks vindictive menace to destroy;
An enterprize of horror, which his pow'r,
His dictates singly can and will impede,
Till thou in safety hast regain'd thy throne.
All from his presence straight the king commands,
Save Artemisia; her in broken tones
Addresses: Queen of Caria, singly wise
Among my council, pity, not upbraid
Thy master, suff'ring by his rash neglect
Of thy sage voice unutterable pangs.
He paus'd in torture. Prudent, she replied:
Without a cause the lord of nations droops;
Mardonius well hath counsel'd thy retreat,
Who undertakes to finish, what his sword
Hath well begun thro' Macedon and Thrace,
This mighty war. Thy servant may succeed;
In whose behalf? His master's: Thou wilt reap
His fruits of glory; if Mardonius fail,
He the disgrace. Thy march commence by dawn;
Appoint the fleet's departure swift this night,
To guard with force collected and repair'd
The Hellespontine bridge; with grace accept
The proffer'd service of th' Athenian chief;
Load his returning messenger with gifts
Of royal price, and, O my gracious lord!
Fraternal kindness on Sandauce show'r.
Her gallant lord hath perish'd in thy cause,
Herself been menac'd by a barb'rous priest
To see her children sacrific'd; a doom
Themistocles withstood, and set them free.
As when a timid child perceives a cloud
Obscure the sky, and hears the thunder's peal,
He weeps, he trembles, but the cloud dispers'd,
The clamour ceasing, and the sun restor'd,
His wonted sport resumes, forgetting fear;
So chang'd the monarch. Artemisia, go,
He said; the satraps instantly convene;
Th' Athenian messenger, Argestes' son,
Again before us with Sandauce call;
Ne'er will I deviate from thy counsels more.
First to Sicinus ent'ring he began:
Say to thy sender, I accept well pleas'd
His service pass'd and proffers; thou return;
To him ten golden talents thou shalt bear.
Thee from the depths of sorrow shall the king,
Sandauce, raise; demand a present boon;
Thou canst not ask what Xerxes will refuse.
By gratitude surmounting grief inspir'd,
Mov'd to retaliate kindness in the shape
Herself had prov'd, the gen'rous suppliant thus:
In Persian thraldom is a Grecian maid
Of Delphian lineage, Amarantha nam'd;
Her I demand of Xerxes, that my hand
A captive daughter to a tender sire
May render back; from bondage free his head,
Now in Nicaea, and thus far my debt
Of gratitude discharge. In transport here,
Admiring such perfection of the heart,
Spake Artamanes: Ever live the king!
There is a captive whom the princess nam'd—
Fly thou in search of this requested slave,
Son of Argestes, interrupts the king;
Let none withold her from Sandauce's pow'r.
The female train before the cumb'rous host
Shall move by dawn for Thessaly, there join
The rest of Asia's dames behind us left
On our late march; the guard, ten thousand horse,
Thou, Artamanes, shalt command.—He said;
They all retir'd. A pensive grief o'ercasts
Sandauce, moving with her children slow,
By slaves attended, to the vacant tent
Autarctus late possess'd. Argestes' son
Observes her anguish, penetrates her thoughts,
In guarded words then proffers this relief:
O fairest princess, whose external form
But half displays thy excellence of mind,
Wilt thou forgive thy servant, if he feels
With thee a present sorrow, which the heart
Fobids the tongue to name? Sandauce, trust
My pious service, and those thoughts compose.
She, weeping, looks assent; he speeds away,
But meets the body of Autarctus borne
By Artemisia's soldiers. She at first,
With care conceal'd, had order'd from the bark
His precious reliques; these the noble youth
With equal care delivers to that skill,
Which with Sabaean gums, and scented growths
Of bless'd Arabia, purifies the clay
Depriv'd of life, and Time's consuming breath
Repels. A regal car he next provides,
In full apparel of funereal pomp.
End of the Seventh Book.
THE ATHENAID.
BOOK the EIGHTH.
THE satraps now and leaders, at the call
Of Artemisia, were collected round
Their monarch. Seated on his throne, he spake:
Ye princes, satraps, heed our fix'd decree.
Our native Asia wants her king; by morn
To Susa we return, but leave behind
In Greece Mardonius, and a chosen host
Of thirty myriads. With command supreme,
With our imperial equipage and state,
Him we invest; to him submission pay
As to our presence. Artemisia, bear
Our sov'reign pleasure to the naval chiefs,
That all abandon, e'er the dawn return,
Phaleron's port, and hoist their sails to guard
The Hellespont. But thou, entrusted queen,
Thy own tried squadron to Spercheos bring;
Whence thou must waft to Ephesus a charge
Of high import, the children of thy king.
He ceas'd. A stranger, cas'd in steel, approach'd,
In look ferocious, limbs and shape robust,
Of stature huge; the satraps look'd amaz'd,
As were th' immortals, when, th' Olympian steep
Ascending, grim Briareus first produc'd
His mountain-bulk, and spread his hundred hands,
Auxiliary to Jove. The warrior stood,
Unbending, far as nature would permit,
His rugged brow; when, crouching to the king,
O Xerxes, live for ever, he began:
I am Euboean Demonax, the prince
Of Oreus late, who earth and water sent,
Acknowledging thy empire; from my throne
By curs'd Themistocles expell'd, I join'd
Thy shelt'ring fleet; at Salamis I fought.
An aid of troops and treasure can replace
Me thy true vassal, who will soon reduce
The granary of Athens to thy sway,
Euboea, fertile, populous, and rich.
The monarch thus: Mardonius, thou hast heard;
Begin to use thy plenitude of pow'r;
Reject or favour at thy will this pray'r.
Mardonius then: My sov'reign liege, the truth
Flows from his lips; twelve thousand of thy host,
With Mindarus commanding, and of gold
A hundred talents, would be well bestow'd
On this important Greek. The king assents;
He rises; all disperse. Mardonius now
Accosts the queen, descending to the port:
Alas! how uncontrollable the will
Of Xerxes! must thou leave me? Since the day
Of Salamis, my best belov'd of friends,
Masistius, whether by the waves devour'd,
Or slain, or captive, to my search is lost.
Foe to inaction, though compos'd and wise,
Of courage prone to perilous attempts,
He would embark; permitted by the king,
Against my warm remonstrance would partake
The naval conflict. Drooping, while I doubt
His preservation, must I further lose
Thy fellowship, auspicious, generous queen!
Yet stop, a moment listen. On the march
To Athens first, reposing in a cave,
I had a dream, perhaps a vision saw,
To me presaging glory—but success
Was wrap'd in clouded mystery. My heart
Teems with ill-boding thoughts, yet shall not faint;
At least impart thy wishes ere thou sail'st,
Thy last instructions! Fortunate thy voice,
Benign to me; repeat one parting strain!
If I successful to thy presence bring
The palms of conquest, say, accomplish'd queen,
Thou wilt accept them with a gracious hand;
If unsuccessful I the forfeit pay
Of this frail being, as becomes the brave,
Say, thou wilt praise Mardonius. Sage and grave
She answers: First, despair not to regain
The good Masistius; at the worst endure,
That common lot, the death of dearest friends,
With patience; long thy courage I have prais'd,
Now moderate the flame against a foe
Not less discreet, than disciplin'd and bold;
Nor let the gloom of superstition awe
Thy noble ardour. On the sharpest sword,
The strongest arm, on prudence, martial skill,
Not dreams and visions, looks the goddess Fame.
If Artemisia's wishes can avail,
Be sure to prosper, prosp'ring here to soar
Above the flight of Cyrus.—She departs.
Behind her, like the sinking globe of day,
She leaves a trail of radiance on his soul;
But, to protect him from returning shade,
Her light should ne'er forsake him, never set.
O'er gen'rous cares not thus Argestes broods;
Within his tent he meditates conceal'd;
By struggling pride tormented, thus he strives
To sooth her pangs: I see my pow'r eclips'd;
Mardonius governs. Pow'r, thou fleeting gleam,
Thee I possess no longer; why regret,
When Amarantha's beauty can exchange
Thy thorns for lilies? To my own domain
I will transport her; Sipylus hath flow'rs
To drop perfumes in Amarantha's walk;
Pactolus, Hermus, my subjected streams,
Shall furnish gold; her gems shall India send
To deck that form, and I in pleasure's folds
Forget ambition, stranger to the peace
Which honour yields. Libidinous in thought,
The statesman thus would cheat his baffled pride;
Accurs'd of men! who borrow'd from one vice
His med'cine for another (both deform
His ravag'd bosom in alternate strife)
Flagitious parent! rivalling in love
His eldest born! prepost'rous passion, big
With horror! while the youngest, lov'd by all,
By Xerxes favour'd, to Mardonius dear,
He held in detestation for his worth,
Nor knew the comfort of a virtuous child.
With diff'rent thoughts that sleepless youth employ'd
The night, serenely happy in the charge
Humanity impos'd. Before the dawn
His band is arm'd, Sandauce in her car,
Among innumerable fair the chief
In state and woe. Tears trickle at the sight
Of great Autarctus in his fun'ral pomp
Down ev'ry cheek; a solemn sadness reigns;
So oft Aurora, sable-suited, leads
A train of clouds, dissolving as they pass
In silent show'rs. Through Attica's waste fields,
Through half Boeotia, ere his ev'ning clos'd,
The second sun conducts them to the gates
Of antient Thebes. They enter; they ascend
The citadel; they find commanding there,
New from the ruins of unpeopled towns,
Fierce Mithridates. With a kind embrace,
To him the gentle Artamanes thus:
Hail! brother: twice a captive since we last
At Delphi parted, I would gladly know
Thy fortune. Tell me, where that beauteous maid,
Whom thou didst carry from the Delphian walls?
The grim Barbarian spoiler, quick reply'd:
Curs'd be her name, her beauty, which could melt
A heart like mine! Accurs'd my father's lust,
Which seiz'd my captive! Guarded by a troop
Of jealous eunuchs, and attendants arm'd,
Her in this citadel he still detains.
If I refign her, may Plataea's tow'rs,
May Thespia's hostile walls by me o'erthrown,
A second time to brave me rise from dust.
Oh! unbecoming strife, the brother cry'd,
Which startles nature! Thanks to Heav'n, the king
Hath now decided Amarantha's fate;
Her to his royal sister he hath giv'n,
A promis'd boon. Sandauce, by the foe
Restor'd to freedom, will requite that grace,
By rend'ring up this damsel to her sire,
Himself a pris'ner in Nicaea's fort,
Then both release from bondage. Further know,
In Thebes to morrow Xerxes will appear
On his retreat to Susa. I conduct
This train of eastern dames. By rising dawn
To her protection will the princess take
The Delphian maiden, then proceed. These words
Sting Mithridates; an atrocious deed
He meditates, but artful thus conceals:
Not to my father, to the king I yield.
This said, they parted. Mithridates held
The town; his brother's squadrons lay encamp'd
Without the walls. The citadel contain'd
A fane of Juno, there Sandauce rests.
To Oedipus devoted was a dome,
Which Artamanes enter'd, while his heart
Ran cold and shudder'd at a brother fell,
And treach'rous sire, competitors in love;
Abominable strife! His eyes he cast
O'er all the structure, lighted by the gleams
Of tapers blue attending; he surveys,
Insculptur'd round, the horrors which befel
The house of Laius; there th' ill-fated son
His father slays; incestuous there ascends
His mother's chamber; daughters he begets,
His sisters, sons his brothers; blameless he,
A man of virtues by despair oppress'd,
Rends forth his eyeballs, on the pavement dash'd.
There sev'n dire captains, leagu'd by horrid oaths
Which startled Heav'n, are figur'd; down to Hell
Amphiarā us on his martial car,
Through earth's dividing entrails, there descends;
Here Capaneus, blaspheming Jove, expires
Amid vindictive lightnings; mangled there,
Eteocles and Polynices fall,
Each other's victim to fraternal hate.
Full of these hideous images the youth
Reclines disturb'd, unvisited by sleep,
Till awful midnight; broken slumber, adds
To his disquiet. In a thrilling dream
The eyeless ghost of Oedipus ascends;
The vacant sockets, where the orbs of sight
Once beam'd, are bleeding fresh; a Stygian pall
Infolds the wither'd, pale, sepulchral form;
The arms are stretch'd abroad: Forever Thebes
Must thou to horror be the guilty stage!
It said, and vanish'd. By the phantom wak'd,
Or by a sudden clash of mingling swords,
With skrieks and tumult, Artamanes rose,
Unsheath'd his sabre, grip'd his target fast,
And issued swift. Before his startled eyes
A beauteous woman, of majestic form,
In garb disorder'd, and with ringlets fall'n,
Sustains aloft a poinard newly drawn
From Mithridates' heart, who, sinking, breathes
His last beneath her feet. So Phoebe pierc'd
Orion; so the groaning earth receiv'd
His giant bulk, which insolently dar'd
Attempt that child immaculate of Jove
With violence of love. Now spake the fair:
If to defend her chastity and fame
Becomes a woman, self approv'd at least
I stand, great Timon's daughter, from a line
Heroic sprung, in holy Delphi born;
If to have slain a ruffian be a crime
Among the Persians, give me instant death,
Such as becomes my dignity and sex.
Her words, her looks, impress'd on ev'ry heart
Amaze, and tam'd the savages combin'd
With Mithridates in his impious act.
So when, majestic on the choral scene,
Her tragic pomp Melpomene displays,
In awe profound she hushes rudest minds,
While terror humbles tyrants. Gather'd round
Were numbers now; a thousand torches blaz'd;
Sandauce last, environ'd by her guard,
Approach'd alarm'd. A wounded eunuch stepp'd
Before the princess; I will cloath in truth
My voice, he said. Argestes to my care
Entrusted Amarantha; from that lord,
Solicitations, threat'nings, gifts she spurn'd,
While I admir'd: Sure virtue hath a ray
To strike the meanest eye. To-night his son
Assail'd our dwelling; with my fellow slaves,
All butcher'd, I defended long my charge,
By Mithridates from the mansion forc'd;
Her chastity the noble maid hath sav'd,
Her poniard stretch'd the ravisher in blood.
To Artamanes, weeping o'er the corse,
Sandauce then: To thy consoling words
I oft have listen'd, listen thou to mine;
Forgive the maid; illustrious is her deed
For every maid to imitate. With me,
Come Amarantha; thou art mine; not long
Shalt so continue; at Nicaea's fort
I will restore thee to a joyful sire,
And both to freedom. Morning breaks; the cars,
The troops attend; the royal dame renews
Her progress; seated at her footstool weeps,
In speechless gratitude, the Delphian fair.
By public duty Artamanes rous'd,
Not long remains. This last farewell he sighs:
Oh! early fall'n! Oh! cut from proudest hopes!
Thee, Horomazes, may a brother's tears
For him propitiate! he hath none to shed.
These silent ruins to our father shew,
Thou faithful eunuch. May he feel like me!
His steed he mounts, and rapidly o'ertakes
The squadrons, op'ning on Cadmean plains.
Now Amarantha lifts her grateful head,
Intent to speak; but, heavy on the front
Of her protectress, heavier in her breast
Sat grief, each sense devouring, and her frame
Enfeebling; which, too delicately wrought,
Endures not ev'n remembrance of distress
So new, so strange in her exalted state,
To youth untry'd by evils. She forgets
Her late benignant act, till chance directs
Her eye to Amarantha; when her heart,
Sooth'd by the conscience of a gen'rous deed,
Her faded cheeks relumines with a smile.
Then spake the prudent virgin: Persian queen,
(Sure such thou art) what marvellous event
Gave thee a knowledge of my sire, his place
Of residence, and my disastrous fate?
Sense of thy goodness, from my breast would chace
The memory of troubles, if alas!
I did not see thy countenance o'ercast.
If thou repent thee, of thy favour deem
Me undeserving, send me to abide
The punishment ordain'd by Persian laws;
But if thy sorrows are thy own, unmix'd
With my misfortunes, let assiduous zeal,
Let tenderest service of my grateful hand
Strive to relieve the burdens which oppress
My benefactress. In the captive's hand
Sandauce drops her own; in sighs replies:
O! by thy aspect of superior mold
To all I e'er beheld of regal race,
Resembling me in fortune, lend an ear;
My soul conceives a melancholy wish
That thou shouldst hear my story, I to thine
Alternate listen. Mournful converse soon
Between these fairest in their native climes
Began, continued; sev'n diurnal rounds
The sun perform'd, till intercourse of grief,
Communicated sighs, unite their minds
In tender friendship. Diff'rent yet their lots;
On Amarantha's cheek the bloom revives;
A joyful sire, perhaps a dear betroth'd,
Her fortune promis'd. In Sandauce's train
A husband follow'd on his fun'ral bier;
Her fleeting hue a sickly paleness taints,
Which Artamanes with a sad'ning eye
Observes, portent of malady. Now rose
The eighth sad morn, revealing to their sight
Nicaea's neighb'ring gate. Sandauce then
To Artamanes: Take this virtuous maid;
To her my promise, to her father thine
Fulfill; conduct her. Amarantha dear,
From thee I part, rejoicing in thy joy;
Amid thy comforts in a sire's embrace,
Or bliss more tender with a destin'd spouse,
Forget not me. Autarchus near the tomb
Of Ariana by these widow'd hands
Deposited—She stops; the weaken'd pow'rs
Of health relax, nor furnish sound to grief:
Mute too is Delphi's maid. The Persian youth,
To leave a moment in her sick'ning state
The princess, feels a struggle, but resolves
In rapid haste her mandate to obey.
Nicaea's gate he enters; Timon soon
He finds: receive thy daughter, swift he spake;
Receive thy freedom from the bounteous hand
Of Xerxes' sister; but a short farewell
My urgent cares allow; to set thee free
At thy own time I hasten to enjoin
The chief commander here. He said, and turn'd
Precipitate away, unheard, unmark'd
By Timon, who no other voice nor form
Than Amarantha's heeds. In Carian steel
Now Meliboeus from the gymnic school,
Where he was daily exercis'd in arms,
Approach'd; to him in transport Timon spake:
Behold my daughter!—Instant from the port
Appears Aronces, who proclaims the news
Of Artemisia landed. She had left
Phaleron; station'd in the Malian bay,
She waits the king's arrival, not remote
Now with his army; all advance to meet
The Carian queen; when sudden clouds of dust
The sky envelop; loud the hollow sound
Of trampling hoofs is heard. The portal pass'd
By Artamanes fac'd the southern sun;
An entrance eastward rudely is possess'd
By Caspian horsemen, in the hairy skins
Of goats all horrid; round their brawny loins
From shaggy belts keen cimeters depend;
Well-furnish'd quivers rattle on their backs.
Now fifty grim-fac'd savages dismount
To seize on Amarantha. Then his arm
New-train'd to battle Meliboeus proves;
With native strength, agility and fire,
He springs, confronts the Caspians; from the first
He lops the ruffian hand; by diff'rent wounds
Five more lie prostrate. As a vessel new,
Compact and strong, impetuous from the dock
In her first launch divides the troubled waves,
On either side recoiling, till the weight
Of reuniting waters stops her course,
And beats her lofty ribs; so valour drives
The warrior on, till rallying numbers join'd,
Arrest his progress; fearless yet he stands
A while defensive. Timon from the dead
Lifts two forsaken cimeters; both hands
His indignation arms; he sends to hell
Three miscreants gasping at his daughter's feet.
With aiding Thefeus, so Pirithous heap'd
With centaurs slain the Lapithaean hall,
When in flagitious tumult they deform'd
The nuptial banquet, and his fair espous'd
With violation menac'd. But the eye
Of Amarantha mark'd th' unequal fight;
Her poniard drawn, the only succour left,
She holds intrepid, resolute on death,
No second thraldom; when th' auspicious sight
Of Caria's queen revives her fainting hopes.
Stern Artemisia, rapid on the call
Of vigilant Aronces, now approach'd
In awful tone the Caspians: Sheath your blades,
Ye fierce in look, not courage, or this arm
(Her falchion here she waves) shall hide these streets
With your vile carrion. Despicable herd
Of rebels, led by what presumptuous fiend
Dare you invade a fortress of your king,
Ev'n in my presence, he perhaps in sight?
They hear; they pause. Inclos'd by thick'ning guards,
In multitude confiding, urg'd by lust,
Which lends a courage new, Argestes fell,
Inciting loud his ruffians to persist,
Strikes her indignant eye. What wrath, what hopes
Of just, of long-sought vengeance swell her breast!
As when the mother of a lion brood,
From wonted chace returning, sees a wolf,
Or treach'rous tiger stealing towards her den,
Who in her absence would securely prey
On her defenceless whelps, her eyeballs roll
In fire, she rushes on th' insidious foe
With fangs resistless; he contends in vain,
His chest she rends asunder, and his heart
Devours unsated; so incens'd the queen,
Begirt by Carians terrible in war,
To each Barbarian terrible who saw
Their high exploits on Salaminian waves,
Rush'd on Argestes; Meliboeus brave
March'd by her side a second, whom the god
Of arms might rank among his foremost sons.
The Caspians shrunk; by desperation bold,
The satrap spurr'd his courser on the queen,
And whirl'd a javelin shiv'ring on her shield;
She on the forehead smote the restiff horse,
Who, rearing, hurl'd his rider to the ground,
Then points her dreadful weapon tow'rds the breast
Of her detested foe, intent to pierce
The trait'rous heart. This invocation first
She solemn utters: Manes of the brave!
Whom he devoted on the Malian fields
Unpitied victims of his hate to me,
To you, my subjects, this malignant head
I immolate. Hence satrap, once the chief
In pow'r and state, in vice and falsehood chief,
Seek Rhadamanthus; tell him, while he frowns
On his tribunal, Themis to my hand
Her sword resign'd to cut thy treason short.
Her vengeance levels now the mortal blow,
When dignity restrains her. Rise, she said,
Thou criminal, unworthy by this arm
To die; preserve him, Carians, to abide
The ignominous lot, by justice doom'd
To common villains. Meliboeus, change
Thy name; I clasp thee Haliartus now,
My brother, prov'd by gallant deeds; at least
No evidence but virtue I require
For nobler union than congenial birth,
By friendship's sacred ties to call thee mine.
She scarce had finish'd, when a second troop
Of horsemen through the southern portal spread
New terror. In their front a splendid chief,
Who wears a regal circle; round he casts
A searching eye, impatient soon beholds
Bright Amarantha, where she stands beset
By Caspians, strangers to their leader's fate,
Persisting still in pertinacious strife
Against Aronces, and her manly sire;
Then swift as sulph'rous ether, when its flame
Divides a knotted oak or cleaves a tow'r,
Flies on the ruffians: Do ye lift, he cries,
Your hands profane against the destin'd queen
Of Macedon? a carnage wide he spreads
Beneath his trampling steed and pond'rous blade.
Dismounting victor, he unclasps his helm,
Her dear betroth'd to Amarantha shews
In Alexander, Macedonia's king.
Ne'er yet so comely, so endearing look'd
A lover; rescu'd from Barbarian spoil
She meets his arms, while Timon weeps in joy.
With Meliboeus, from a stage of blood,
The Carian queen approach'd, while thus the king
His servent soul was opening: Oh! my love,
My Amarantha! my affianc'd love!
I feel, but cannot paint, my sorrows past,
My present joys. The day, the appointed day
To solemnize our nuptial rites was nigh,
I left my kingdom, flew to Delphi's walls;
Thou wast not there. What horror, when I heard
Thou wast a captive! by what barb'rous hand
None could inform me; thence from march to march
I track'd the Persians; tidings of thy fate
No tongue could tell; through Attica I rang'd,
Boeotia, Phocis, Doris; Locris still
Was left to search. Disconsolate I join'd
The royal camp last ev'ning; there I heard
Of Mithridates by thy virtue slain;
At Thebes, of curs'd Argestes, who had held
Thee pris'ner there; of thy departure thence
With kind Sandauce to Nicaea's fort;
But further told, that base Argestes led
The Caspian horse forerunners of the host,
Alarm'd, my troop I gather'd, I pursu'd,
Am come to save thee, nor one hour withhold
The full protection of my nuptial hand.
Th' illustrious virgin answer'd in a figh:
O Alexander, I am thine, thou mine
By sacred vows; yet thou a foe to Greece!
Then Artemisia: Noble maid, I praise
That zeal for Greece, thy country; but forbear
At this momentous crisis to combine
Thy preservation with a public care;
Thou need'st protection both of rank and pow'r.
Few can resist the lustre of thy form,
Which, left unguarded thro' the lawless course
Of war, might light, in others less deprav'd
Than foul Argestes and his barb'rous son,
New flames to burst in violence again.
She ceases; Timon ratifies her words.
A mother's office now the queen performs
In preparation for connubial rites;
Nor old Aronces, nor th' acknowledg'd heir
Of Lygdamis are slow. With human blood
Impure, the streets are cleans'd, the slain remov'd;
Flow'rs pluck'd for chaplets, nuptial torches burn,
The altars smoke with odours, sternest hearts
Grow mild, Bellona's furies sleep forgot,
Her fifes and clarions soften to delight
The ear of Hymen; joy concludes the day.
End of the Eighth Book.
THE ATHENAID.
BOOK the NINTH.
SOFT rose the morn, and still; the azure flood
In gentle volumes, undisturb'd with tides,
But heav'd by zephyrs, glaz'd the pebbled shore;
When Caria's princess, visiting the beach
With Haliartus, and her son belov'd,
Her bosom thus disclos'd: O brother! friend
In danger tried, not yet are Asia's woes
Complete; to Greece new trophies I forbode.
Oh! soon transported o'er these hostile waves,
May Artemisia rest her wearied head
At length in peace, and thou, so late redeem'd,
With her partake the blessing! Ah! thy looks
Reject the proffer—yet some rev'rence bear
To Artemisia, some fraternal love.
How shall I plead? will haughty Greece admit
Thee to her honours, thee in humblest state,
Tho' meriting the highest, known so long?
Halicarnassus, an illustrious town,
Among her noblest citizens will rank
The son avow'd of Lygdamis. O cast
A kindred eye on this my orphan boy!
Who must become his guardian, who supply
My care, should fate precipitate my doom?
Tears down the beard of Haliartus flow'd,
Afflicted, tho' determin'd. On his hand
Leander hung; the captivating mien
Of Meliboeus had at once allur'd
The tender youth to entertain belief
In old Aronces, when he first proclaim'd
The swain true son of Lygdamis. These words
From Haliartus broke: Thy birth, thy name,
Thy virtues, queen, I rev'rence; of thy blood
Acknowledg'd, more ennobled in thy praise,
I feel my elevation; but thy ear
Approving lend. Three suns are now elaps'd
Since gen'rous Medon, by a faithful mouth,
Convey'd his promise to redeem my head,
Exchang'd for splendid captives, by his arm
In fight acquir'd; I hourly watch to hail
His peaceful mast, perhaps yon distant keel
Contains his person. To forsake this friend,
Whose kindness bless'd my former humble state,
Friend of my childhood, youth, and ripen'd years,
Would be an act, O thou of purest fame,
To plunge thy brother in the lowest depth
Of human baseness, baseness of the mind,
Thy long-lost brother, found too soon a stain
To Lygdamis and thee. Concluding here,
He eyes the vessel bounding to the port,
With branches green of olive on her head,
Her poop, and mast; the Carian sailors hail
The fair, pacific signal. On the beach
The warrior leaps, when Haliartus cries,
I see my patron! with expanded arms
Flies to embrace him. Medon stops, and speaks:
In splendid mail is Meliboeus cas'd?
Are these not Persian standards flying round?
Art thou enroll'd an enemy to Greece?
No, interpos'd the queen, behold him free,
To thee, to Greece unchang'd, in arms my gift;
He is my brother, brother to the queen
Of Caria. Medon here: Immortal pow'rs!
Do I survey the wonder of her sex,
That heroine of Asia, who alone,
While now the fate of empire balanc'd hangs,
Contributes virtue to the Persian scale?
My friend to such a sister I resign.
Ah! never, never, Haliartus cried,
Shalt thou resign me; nor th' Oïlean house
Will I forsake; in that belov'd abode
I was too happy for aspiring thoughts.
First to redeem thy Locris I devote
These arms; will perish there before thy foes,
If such my fate, if victor in thy ranks,
Hang in thy mansion my reposing shield,
There make my home. Yet often will I court
Thy welcome, princess, on the Carian shore
To worship still thy virtue, on thy son
Still pour the blessings of parental love.
The Carian queen subjoins: I must approve,
To such clear honour yield; bring Timon, call
The king; Time presses, we must all depart;
A sacred Delphian too from bondage freed
Thou shalt receive, O Medon. Swift the chief
To disembark his captives gave command;
Five was their number; one beyond the rest
In stature tower'd, his armour was unspoil'd,
Though rich in burnish'd gold, emboss'd with gems
Of starry light; his dignity and form
The victors rev'renc'd. Medon to the queen:
These Aristides, at my efforts pleas'd,
Gave to my choice from numbers; an exchange
For Meliboeus and the Delphian priest
These I design'd; my friends thy bounty frees;
Take these unransom'd from a grateful hand.
O lib'ral man! the Carian princess here:
Thou dost produce Masistius; virtuous lord!
How will Mardonius in thy sight rejoice,
How lift his hopes! To her Masistius bow'd,
To Medon spake: O Grecian! if a thought
To die thy debtor could debase my soul,
I should deserve till death all human woes.
Demand, obtain; to Asia I am dear,
Lov'd by Mardonius, honour'd by the king,
I cannot ask what either would refuse
To him who gave me liberty and life.
Thou canst, rejoins the chief, obtain a grace
To me of precious worth, to Xerxes none;
Nor golden stores nor gems attract my eye;
I have a sister, dearer than the mines
Of Ind, or wealth of Susa, who resides
A priestess pure, on that Oetaean ridge
Which overlooks Thermopylae, her name
Melissa; there an ancient fane is plac'd,
No splendid seat oracular, enrich'd
By proud donations, but a mossy pile,
Where ev'ry Grecian hath from age to age
Ador'd the muses. Lift thy hand to swear,
Thou wilt implore of Xerxes a decree,
Irrevocable like a Median law,
Forbidding all to climb that holy crag.
To him Masistius: Not the Delian isle,
By Persians held inviolate of old,
Shall boast of safety like Melissa's hill;
For my performance, lo! I lift my hand
To Horomazes. Thou, return'd, salute
Athenian Aristides in my name;
From me, his captive in that direful hour
Of carnage round Psyttalia's bloody strand,
Say, that my thankful tongue will never cease
Extolling his beneficence and thine.
To him far more than liberty and life
I owe; in bondage precious were the hours,
With him the hours of converse, who enlarg'd,
Illum'd my heart and mind; his captive freed,
I go a wiser, and a better man.
Now with his consort Macedonia's king,
And Timon were in sight; a sad'ning look
Fair Amarantha mute on Timon fix'd,
On her the father: We must part, he said;
Alas! too many of thy father's days
Captivity hath wasted, sorrow more
Deploring thee, my child, while other Greeks,
Erecting brilliant trophies, have obtain'd
Eternal praise. Thee, Amarantha, found,
Thee wedded, happy in thy choice and mine,
I quit, my tarnish'd honours to retrieve.
She then: In him a husband I avow
Felicity unstain'd; in him ally
To Persia's tyrant I am left unbless'd.
Malignant fortune still pursues thy child;
Before me holds a consort and a sire
In adverse ranks contending. He rejoins:
I know thee, daughter, like the manliest Greek
The wrongs of Greece resenting, but thy heart
Keep in subjection to a tender spouse
Of constancy approv'd, whose house with mine,
From eldest times, by mutual tokens pass'd
In sacred hospitality is link'd.
Thy pow'r of beauty never for thyself
Employ, be all compliance; use that charm,
As kind occasion whispers, in behalf
Of Greece alone; by counsel sweetly breath'd,
Diffuse remembrance of his Grecian blood
Thro' Alexander's heart. While these converse
Apart, the keels are launch'd; now all embark;
Aboard his vessel Medon leads the son
Of Lygdamis with Timon; on her own
Imperial deck th' attentive queen dispos'd
The Macedonian with his beauteous bride,
And Persians freed by Medon, chief of these
Masistius merits her peculiar care;
Confin'd, Argestes trembles at his doom
From Xerxes' ire. Along thy rocky verge,
Thermopylae, with sails and shrouds relax'd,
Smooth glide the Carian gallies thro' a calm,
Which o'er the Malian surface sleeps unmov'd,
Unless by measur'd strokes of sounding oars,
Or foam-besilver'd prows. A royal guard,
Preceding Xerxes, through that dreaded pass
Were then advancing, not in order'd pomp,
As on his march to Athens; now behind
The regal chariot panic fear impell'd
On its encumber'd wheels disorder'd throngs,
As if Leonidas had ris'n and shook
The snaky shield of Gorgon, or his sword,
Stain'd with Psyttalian havoc, o'er their heads
The living arm of Aristides wav'd.
On sight of Oeta Carian's queen relates
To her illustrious passengers the deeds
Which signaliz'd that rock, nor leaves untold
The fate of Teribazus, nor the wound
Of Ariana, victims both to love.
Now, where Spercheos from his spumy jaws
A tribute large delivers to the bay,
They land; Mardonius, passing tow'rds a tent
Magnificent, erected for the king,
Arriv'd but newly, on his way perceives
Masistius; transport locks his tongue; he flies,
Hangs on his friend, unutterable joy
His tears alone discover. More compos'd,
Though not less cordial, with a close embrace,
First spake the late redeem'd: Receive thy friend,
Whom wreck'd and captive on Psyttalia's isle,
An Attic leader, Aristides nam'd,
Restores unspoil'd, unransom'd, undisgrac'd!
Mardonius quick: Thy unexpected sight,
By an Athenian all unsought restor'd,
Presages all the good my warmest hopes
Could e'er suggest; the omen I enjoy;
For this shall Athens, to my friendship won,
Possess her laws, her freedom, with increase
Of rich dominion. Artemisia then:
Behold, the king of Macedon, his wife
In Amarantha. Wond'ring at her form,
Exclaims the Persian hero; of one crime
I now acquit Argestes and his son;
What ice of virtue could resist that face!
Again the queen: For other crimes my ship
Detains Argestes; him before the king
To charge, immediate audience we demand.
Mardonius guides them to the royal tent.
With half his chiefs the monarch anxious sat,
His swift departure by the break of dawn
Arranging. Amarantha, in her shape
A deity, among them sudden spreads
A blaze of beauty, like the sun at noon
In dazzling state amidst an ether blue
Of torrid climates: admiration loud
Wounds her offended ear. She thus began:
What you admire, ye Persians, O that Heav'n
Had ne'er conferr'd! the cause of woe to me,
Of guilt in others; then a maiden hand
Had ne'er been dipp'd in slaughter, nor these eyes
Survey'd the pavement of Nicaea strewn
With subjects made rebellious by my fate,
Thy subjects, monarch. With a Caspian troop
Argestes forc'd thy castle me to seize,
Th' affianc'd bride of Macedonia's king,
Me, to Sandauce giv'n a royal boon,
Me, then in freedom by the gracious will
Of thy imperial sister. Help, unhop'd
From Artemisia, from my husband came;
Me they preserv'd, Argestes pris'ner bring
To undergo thy justice. Caria's queen
With Macedon's indignant prince confirm
This accusation. On his own retreat
Secure to Susa Xerxes all intent,
Turns to Mardonius: thou be judge, he said;
Take to thyself the forfeits of this crime.
The king commands his servant shall be judge,
Mardonius answer'd; chief among my foes
Hath been Argestes, therefore must not die
By my decree. Let Cyra, fort remote
On Iaxartes hide his banish'd head;
That care to Artemisia I commit;
His satrapy, his treasure and domain
To Artamanes his remaining son,
Thy meritorious vassal, I ordain.
This judgment pass'd, a murmur nigh the tent,
Denouncing an ambassador, is heard;
Ambassador of Sparta. Soon appears
The manly frame of Aemnestus bold,
Surpassing all his countrymen in arms,
An Ephorus in office, function high;
Whose jealous vigilance imprison'd kings
Unjust, or impious, or assuming pow'r
Unwarranted by laws. No train attends;
He asks for Xerxes, when Mardonius stern:
Before the future sov'reign of the world,
With princes round him, single dost thou bring
An embassy from Sparta? Spartans hold
One man with one sufficient in discourse,
Cry'd Aemnestus. Xerxes interpos'd:
Reveal thy errand, stranger: He reply'd.
Admonish'd by an oracle, the state
Of Lacedaemon, and the race divine
There dwelling, sprung from Hercules, demand
Of thee atonement for a slaughter'd king,
Leonidas, whom multitude oppress'd,
While he defended Greece; whate'er thou giv'st
I will accept. The monarch to his cheek
A shew of laughter calls; awhile is mute;
Then, breaking silence, to Mardonius points.
They shall receive th' atonement they deserve
From him: Thou hear'st, Mardonius. Then, with looks
Of scorn and menace: Yes, the Spartan said,
Thee I accept my victim to appease
Leonidas; disdainful then his foot
He turns away, nor fears th' unnumber'd guard.
Meantime the royal progeny is brought
To Artemisia; urgent time requires,
Their Father's fears the embarkation press
For Ephesus that night. Them down the beach
Mardonius follows, and the Carian queen
In secret thus addresses: Didst thou mark
That Spartan's threat'ning words and haughty mien?
An oracle suggested this demand,
Strange and mysterious. On the martial field
Him I can single from Laconian ranks,
Audacious challenger! but something more
Behind the veil of destiny may lurk
Unseen by me. Mardonius, she replied;
Look only where no mystery can lurk,
On ev'ry manly duty; nothing dark
O'ershades the track of virtue; plain her path;
But superstition chosen for a guide,
Misleads the best and wisest. Think no more
Of this, an object like that passing cloud
Before the moon, who shortly will unfold
Her wonted brightness. Prudent thy design
To gain th' Athenians; to that noble race
Be large in proffers, in performance true;
Purchase but their neutrality, thy sword
Will, in despight of oracles, reduce
The rest of Greece. This utter'd, she embarks.
He seeks his tent, and finds Masistius there,
Whose honour, mindful of a promise pledg'd,
Requests protection for Melissa's fane.
Him in his arms the son of Gobrias clasp'd,
Thus fervent answ'ring: Xerxes will renew
His rapid march to-morrow; pow'r supreme
He leaves with me, which instant shall be urg'd
To render firm the promise of my friend.
Now lend thy counsel on the copious roll
Of Asia's host; assist me to select
The thirty myriads giv'n to my command.
They sat till dayspring; then the camp is mov'd;
Then Amarantha, from her husband's tent
Ascends a car, and traverses the vale,
By fluent crystal of Spercheos lav'd,
To join Sandauce. On her way she meets
Artuchus, guardian of the Persian fair;
The satrap gazes, courtesy entranc'd
Forgets awhile her function. Thus, at length,
He greets the queen: Fair stranger, who dost rise
A second dayspring to th' astonish'd eye,
Accept my service; whither tends thy course?
Whom dost thou seek? and gracious tell thy name.
In rosy blushes, like Aurora still,
She graceful thus: Of Macedonia's king
I am th' espous'd; my patroness I seek,
Sandauce, issue of th' imperial house.
Artuchus answer'd: Yesternoon beheld
Her languid steps approach this vale of woe.
Thou, beauteous princess, to Sandauce known,
Thou must have heard of Ariana's fate;
Sandauce now is mourning at her tomb,
A grave preparing for Autarctus slain.
Mayst thou suspend despair! Not distant flows
The fount of sorrow, so we styl'd the place,
Frequented oft by Ariana's grief;
There oft her head disconsolate she hung
To feed incessant anguish, ne'er disclos'd
Unless in sighing whispers to the stream;
Her last abode is there. The myrtles shed
Their odours round, the virgin roses bloom;
I there have caus'd a monument to rise,
That passing strangers may her name revere,
And weep her fortune; from her early grave
May learn, how Heav'n is jealous of its boons,
Not long to flourish, where they most excel.
A marble mansion new erected nigh
Her faithful slaves inhabit; who attune
To thrilling lutes a daily fun'ral song.
He leads, he stops. On gently-moving air
Sweet measures glide; this melancholy dirge,
To melting chords, by sorrow touch'd, is heard.
Cropp'd is the rose of beauty in her bud,
Bright virtue's purest mansion is defac'd;
Like Mithra's beams her silken tresses shone
In lustre gentle as a vernal morn;
Her eye reveal'd the beauties of her mind;
The slave, the captive, in her light rejoic'd.
Lament, ye daughters of Choaspes, wail,
Ye Cissian maids, your paragon is lost!
Once like the fresh-blown lily in the vale,
In Susa fair, in radiancy of bloom
Like summer glowing, till consuming love
Deform'd her graces; then her hue she chang'd
To lilies pining in decay, but kept
The smile of kindness on her wasted cheek.
Lament, ye daughters of Choaspes, wail,
Ye Cissian maids, your paragon is lost!
O ray of wisdom, eye of virtue, form'd
To spread superior light, the dazzling brand
Of love malign obscur'd thy eagle sight;
Thy vital flames are vanish'd, ours remain,
As lamps to endless mourning in thy tomb,
Till we rejoin thee in a land of bliss.
Lament, ye daughters of Choaspes, wail,
Ye Cissian maids, your paragon is lost!
The song concludes. Sandauce from a bank
Of turf uprises, resting on her slaves;
A pallid visage, and a fainting step,
She brings before the sepulchre and spake:
O Ariana! listen from thy tomb,
To me in woe thy sister, as in blood!
By diff'rent fortunes both were doom'd to waste
An early bloom in sorrow; O admit
Autarctus first a neighbour to thy clay,
Me next, who feel my vital thread unwind.
O Heav'n! my humble spirit would submit
To thy afflicting hand—but ev'ry fount
Of health is dry'd; my frame enfeebled sinks
Beneath its trial. When the inhuman priest
Condemn'd my children to his cruel knife,
The freezing sheers of fate that moment cut
My heart-strings; never have they heal'd again;
Decay'd and wither'd in the flower of life,
My strength deserts my patience: tender friends
Provide another grave.—For whom? bursts forth
Emathia's queen, and threw her clasping arms
Around the princess; whose discolour'd hue
In warm affection flushes at the sight
Of Amarantha, as a languid rose,
Shrunk by the rigour of nocturnal frosts,
A while reviving at the tepid rays
Of wintry Phoebus, glows. For me, she sigh'd,
For me, that bed of endless rest is made.
Com'st thou, neglectful of thy nuptial bliss,
To poor Sandauce's burial! soon the hour,
When of the sun these sickly eyes must take
Their last farewel, may call thy friendly hand
To close their curtains in eternal night!
These words the Grecian fair, in sorrow try'd,
In constancy unshaken, swift return'd:
Thou shalt not die, avoid this mournful spot,
Thou hast accomplish'd all thy duty here;
Let other duties, wak'ning in thy breast,
Strive with despair; transported in my arms,
To Alexander's capital resort.
Thou shalt not die; returning health, allur'd
By Amarantha's love and tender care,
Again shall bless her patroness, renew
Her youth in bloom, in vigour, ne'er to leave
Her infants doubly orphans. At their name
The princess faints, too sensitive a plant,
Which on the lightest touch contracts the leaves,
And seems to wither in the fold of death.
Her lovely weight Artuchus to his tent
Conveys; a litter gentle, as it moves,
Receives her soon; her children by her side,
In Macedonian chariots are dispos'd,
Her female slaves and eunuchs. Now appears
Emathia's prince to guard his matchless bride;
In arms complete, resembling Mars, he rules
The fiery courser. Artamanes swift
This royal mandate to Artuchus bears:
The king, O satrap, hath begun his march;
Delay not thine with all thy precious charge.
To Artamanes then, the Grecian queen:
Let me request thee in Sandauce's name
To visit yonder fount, of sorrow call'd,
There see th' unfinish'd obsequies perform'd,
To great Autarctus due. Her languid head
With me a while at Aegae will repose,
My consort's royal seat; and, gentle youth,
If justice whisper to thy feeling heart,
That well I sav'd my innocence and fame,
Thou wilt be welcome to the Aegaean hall.
This said, she mounts her chariot; not unpleas'd,
He to accomplish her command proceeds.
Artuchus now conducts the female train,
Unhappy victims of ambition! These,
A prey to famine, to congealing blasts
From cold Olympus, from Bisaltio hills,
And Rhodope, snow-vested, were condemn'd,
With that innumerable host in flight
Unform'd, unfurnish'd, scatter'd, to partake
Of miseries surpassing nature's help.
On earth's unwholsome lap their tender limbs
To couch, to feed on grass, on bitter leaves,
On noisome bark of trees, and swell the scene
Between Spercheos and the distant shores
Of Hellespontine Sestos: real scene
Of death, beyond the massacre denounc'd
By that stern angel in the prophet's dream,
When were assembled ev'ry fowl of prey
From all the regions of the peopled air,
At Heav'ns dread call, to banquet on the flesh
Of princes, captains, and of mighty men.
End of the Eighth Book.
THE ATHENAID.
BOOK the TENTH.
NOW is the season, when Vertumnus leads
Pomona's glowing charms through ripen'd groves
Of ruddy fruitage; now the loaden vine
Invites the gath'ring hand, which treasures joy
For hoary winter in his turn to smile.
An eastern course before autumnal gales
To Ephesus the Carian gallies bend;
While Medon coasts by Locris, and deplores
Her state of thraldom. Thrice Aurora shews
Her placid face; devourer of mankind,
The sea, curls lightly in fallacious calms;
To Medon then the wary master thus:
My chief, the dang'rous equinox is near
Whose stormy breath each prudent sailor shuns,
Secure in harbour; turbulent these streights
Between Euboea and the Locrian shore;
Fate lurks in eddies, threatens from the rocks;
The continent is hostile; we must stretch
Across the passage to Euboea's isle,
There wait in safety till the season rude
Its wonted violence hath spent. The chief
Replies: An island, Atalanté nam'd,
Possess'd by Locrians, rises in thy view;
There first thy shelter seek; perhaps the foe
Hath left that fragment of my native state
Yet undestroy'd. Th' obedient rudder guides,
The oars impel the well directed keel
Safe through an inlet op'ning to a cove
Fenc'd round by rising land. At once the sight,
Caught by a lucid aperture of rock,
Strays up the island; whence a living stream,
Profuse and swift beneath a native arch,
Repels encumb'ring sands. A slender skiff,
Launch'd from the ship, pervades the sounding vault;
With his companions Medon bounds ashore,
Addressing Timon: Delphian guest, these steps,
Rude hewn, attain the summit of this rock;
Thence o'er the island may our wary ken,
By some sure sign, discover if we tread
A friendly soil, or hostile. They ascend.
The topmost peak was chisell'd to display
Marine Palaemon, colossean form,
In art not specious. Melicertes once,
Him Ino, flying from th' infuriate sword
Of Athamas her husband, down a cliff,
Distracted mother, with herself immers'd
In ocean's salt-abyss. Their mortal state
Neptunian pity to immortal chang'd;
From Ino she became Leucothea, chief
Among the nymphs of Tethys; he that god
Benign, presiding o'er the tranquil port,
Palaemon, yielding refuge to the toils
Of mariners sea-worn. One mighty palm
Lean'd on a rudder, high the other held
A globe of light, far shooting through the dark,
In rays auspicious to nocturnal keels
Which plough the vex'd Euripus. Fair below,
Her cap of verdure Atalanté spreads,
Small as a region, as a pasture large,
In gentle hollows vary'd, gentle swells,
All intersected by unnumber'd tufts
Of trees fruit-laden. Bord'ring on the streights,
Rich Locris, wide Boeotia, lift their woods,
Their hills by Ceres lov'd, and cities fam'd;
Here Opus, there Tanagra; Delium shews
Her proud Phoebean edifice, her port
Capacious Aulis, whence a thousand barks
With Agamemnon sail'd; a lengthen'd range
Euboea's rival opulence oppos'd,
Queen of that frith; superb the structures rise
Of Oreus, Chalcis, and the ruins vast
Of sad Erotria, by Darius crush'd.
The Locrian chief salutes the figur'd god:
Still dost thou stand, Palaemon, to proclaim
Oïlean hospitality of old,
Which carv'd thee here conspicuous, to befriend
The sailor night-perplex'd? Thou only sign
Left of Oïlean greatness! wrapp'd in woe
Is that distinguish'd house! Barbarians fill
Her inmost chambers! O propitious god!
If yet some remnant of the Locrian state
Thou dost protect on Atalanté's shore,
Before I leave her shall thy image smoke
With fattest victims! Timon quick subjoins:
I see no hostile traces; numerous hinds
Along the meadows tend their flocks and herds;
Let us, descending, and the crested helm,
The spear, and shield, committing to our train,
In peaceful guise salute a peaceful land.
They hear, approving; lightly back they speed;
Disarm'd, they follow an inviting path,
Which cuts a shelving green. In sportive laugh,
Before the threshold of a dwelling nigh,
Appear young children; quickning then his pace,
O Haliartus, Medon cries, I see
My brother's offspring! They their uncle knew,
Around him flock'd, announcing his approach
In screams of joy: Their sire, Leonteus, came.
As Leda's mortal son in Pluto's vale
Receiv'd his brother Pollux, who, from Jove
Deriv'd, immortal, left the realms of day,
And half his own divinity resign'd,
His dear-lov'd Castor to redeem from death;
So rush'd Leonteus into Medon's arms,
Thus utt'ring loud his transport: Dost thou come
To me and these a saviour! When that cloud
Of dire invasion overcast our land,
For sev'n defenceless infants what remain'd?
What for a tender mother? Instant flight
Preserv'd us; still we unmolested breathe
In Atalanté; others like ourselves
Resorted hither; barren winter soon
Will blast the scanty produce of this isle,
Pale famine waste our numbers; or, by want
Compell'd, this precious remnant of thy friends,
These rising pillars of th' Oïlean house
Must yield to Xerxes—but the gods have sent
In thee a guardian. Summon all our friends,
Elated Medon answers; ev'ry want
Shall be supply'd, their valour in return
Is all I claim. Meantime, like watchful bees
To guard th' invaded hive, from ev'ry part
The Islanders assemble; but the name
Of Medon, once divulg'd, suppresses fear,
And wond'ring gladness to his presence brings
Their numbers. He, rememb'ring such a scene
Late in Calauria, where afflicted throngs
Around his righteous friend of Athens press'd;
Now in that tender circumstance himself
Among his Locrians, conscious too of means
To mitigate their suff'rings, melts in tears
Of joy. O countrymen belov'd! he cries,
I now applaud my forecast, which secur'd
The whole Oïlean treasures; safe they lie
At Lacedaemon, whence expect relief
In full abundance on your wants to flow.
Amid his country's ruins Medon still
May bless the gods; by your auspicious aid,
Beyond my hopes discover'd, I may bring
No feeble standard to the Grecian camp,
When Athens, now triumphant o'er the waves,
With her deep phalanx in the field completes
The overthrow of Asia, and restores
Dejected Locris. So to Israel's sons,
Their little ones and wives, by deathful thirst
Amid the parching wilderness oppress'd,
Their legislator, with his lifted rod,
Consoling spake, who, Heav'n intrusted, knew
One stroke would open watry veins of rock,
And preservation from a flinty bed
Draw copious down. Leonteus lead the way,
Resum'd his brother: vers'd in arms, my youth,
My prime, are strangers to the nuptial tie;
Yet, in thy bliss delighting, I would greet
A sister, auth'ress of this blooming troop.
With all the clust'ring children at his side
He pass'd the threshold, and their mother hail'd.
Now o'er their heads the equinoctial gusts
Begin to chace the clouds; by tempests torn,
The hoarse Euripus sends a distant sound.
Twelve days are spent in sweet domestic joy;
Serenity returns. The master warns;
Departing Medon reascends the bark,
Whose rudder stems the celebrated frith,
Where twice sev'n times the sun and stars behold
Reciprocating floods. Three days are pass'd
When Sunium, Attic promontory, shades
The resting sail; Belbina thence they seek
By morn's new glance, and reach at dewy eve.
Athenian too Belbina yields a port
To night-o'ertaken sailors in their course
Between Cecropia and Troezene's walls.
A squadron there is moor'd; Cleander there,
Now ev'ry public duty well discharg'd
Dismiss'd him glorious to his native roof,
Was disembark'd. Contemplating in thought
His Ariphilia, for the day's return
He languish'd; ev'ry Nereid he invok'd
To speed his keel. Him Medon, landing, greets;
To whom Cleander: On Calauria first
We interchang'd embraces; now accept
A salutation doubly warm, O chief!
By Aristides pris'd, his second bold
In high exploits, which signalize an isle
Obscure before, Psyttalia; be my guest
This night at least: He said; they pass'd aboard
With Haliartus and the Delphian seer.
A gen'rous meal concluded, Medon spake:
Troezenian chief, now give the mind repast;
I have been absent long; when first the flight
Of Asia's host and shatter'd fleet was known,
From Salamis I hoisted sail. To hear
Of Aristides and the laurell'd son
Of Neocles, to hear of all the brave,
Whose high achievements consecrate that day,
From thy narration would delight my soul.
Cleander then began: To council call'd
By Eurybiades, the leading Greeks
A while debated, if their fleet combin'd
Should sail to break the Hellespontine bridge?
This he oppos'd; I readily had join'd
Th' Athenian people, eager by themselves
Without auxiliar Grecians, to pursue
The arrogant invader; but the tribes,
In form assembled, with dissuasive words,
Themistocles thus cool'd. I oft have seen,
Have oftner heard, that vanquish'd men, constrain'd
By desperation, have their loss repair'd
In fight renew'd. Repelling such a cloud
Of enemies from Greece, contented rest;
The pow'r of gods and heroes, not our own,
Achiev'd the deed; pursue not those who fly.
Resort to Athens; in their old abodes
Replace your women, such obsequious wives,
Such daughters; reinstate your native walls,
Rebuild your ruin'd mansions; sow your fields,
Prevent a dearth; by early spring unfurl
Your active sails, then shake the eastern shores.
He last propos'd, that exiles be recall'd.
Loud acclamations rose; the honour'd name
Of Aristides thunder'd on the beach.
O wise Athenians! Medon cordial here:
O happy man, whose happiness is plac'd
In virtuous actions! happiest now a scope
Is giv'n unbounded to thy hand and heart!
Proceed Cleander. He his tale renews:
Th' Athenians launch their gallies, all embark
With Aristides, chosen to that charge.
I set my ready canvass to perform
The last kind office, from Calauria's isle
And Troezen's walls to waft their wives and race,
Left in our trust. Meantime the diff'rent chiefs
Meet on the isthmus, summon'd to decide
Who best had serv'd the public, who might claim
The highest honours. Every leader names
Himself the first, but all concurrent own
Themistocles the second. Envy still
Prevails; without decision they disperse,
Each to his home. Themistocles incens'd,
In eager quest of honours justly due,
Withheld unjustly, not to Athens bends
His hast'ning step, but Sparta ... Medon here:
Not so would Aristides—but forgive
My interrupting voice. The youth pursues:
In Athens him I join'd, a people found,
Whom fortune never by her frown depress'd,
Nor satisfied with favour. Active all,
Laborious, cheerful, they persist in toil,
To heave the hills of ruin from their streets,
Without repining at their present loss,
Intent on future greatness, to be rais'd
On persevering fortitude: The word
Of Aristides guides. Amidst a scene
Of desolation, decency provides
The fun'ral pomp for those illustrious slain
At Salamis; th' insculptur'd tomb I saw
Preparing; they already have ordain'd
A distant day to solemnize the rites;
The mouth of Aristides they decree
To celebrate the valiant, who have died
For Athens. While Themistocles accepts
A foreign praise in Sparta, olive crowns,
A car selected from the public store,
A guard, three hundred citizens high-rank'd,
Him through their tracts are chosen to attend,
Excess of rev'rence, by that rigid state
Ne'er shewn before. To small Troezene's walls
To-morrow I return with less renown,
With less desert, perhaps to purer bliss.
My Ariphilia calls her soldier home
To give her nuptial hand. My welcome guest
You I invite; the season rude of Mars
Is clos'd; new combats will the spring supply;
Th' autumnal remnant, winter hov'ring near,
Let us possess in peace. Then Timon spake:
Young chief, I praise thee; be a husband soon,
Be soon a parent; thou wilt bear thy shield
With constancy redoubled. If defence
Of our forefathers, sleeping in their tombs,
So oft unsheaths our swords, more strongly sure
Th' endearing, living objects of our love
Must animate the gen'rous, good, and brave.
I am unworthy of that praise, in smiles
Subjoins the Locrian; but thou know'st, my friend,
I have a brother, of a copious stream
The source, he, call'd to battle, shall maintain
Oïlean fame. Cleander, I am bound
To Lacedaemon; treasure there I left,
Which, well exchang'd for nature's foodful gifts,
I would transport to Atalanté's shore,
Seat of that brother; who, Leonteus nam'd,
With brave companions there in refuge lies,
A future aid to Greece. A list'ning ear
Cleander yields, while Medon's lips unwind
The varied series of events befall'n
Himself and Timon, Amarantha fair,
The Carian queen, and Meliboeus chang'd
To Haliartus. By th' immortal gods
We will not sep'rate, fervent cries the youth;
My Ariphilia, who is wise and good,
Will entertain society like yours,
As Aethiopia, in Maeonian song,
Receives to pure and hospitable roofs
Her visitants from heav'n. Let youth advise,
Not inexperienc'd, but o'er land and sea
To early action train'd; retaining all
Your narrative heart-piercing, I perceive
Your wants, and feel impatience to befriend;
My lightest keel to Salamis shall bear
Thy orders, Timon, for the Delphian barks,
There left behind you, in Troezene's port
To join you straight. His counsel they accept.
The moon is rising, Salamis not far;
The will of Timon to his Delphian train
Is swiftly borne. The squadron next proceeds,
Passing Troezene by, whose gen'rous chief
Accompanies to shore his Locrian guest
At Cynosura. Spartan is this port,
He said; with fifty followers speed thy way;
Commit no treasure to the faithless winds;
By land return to find thy ready barks,
Well-fill'd from Troezen's stores. They part; he sails
To joyful welcome on his native shores.
When now, unveiling slowly, as she rolls,
Her brother's light the moon reflected full,
Auspicious period for connubial rites,
From Lacedaemon hast'ning, Medon gains
Troezene's ramparts; him Cleander chose
His paranymph to lead the bridal steps
Of Ariphilia. To Calauria's verge
He pass'd; beneath a nuptial chaplet gay
He wore his crisped hair; of purest white
A tunic wrapp'd his sinewy chest and loins,
A glowing mantle, new in Tyrian dye,
Fell down his shoulders. Up the shelving lawn
The high Neptunian structure he attains,
Where with her parents Ariphilia waits
Attir'd in roses like her hue, herself
As Flora fair, or Venus at her birth,
When from the ocean with unrifl'd charms
The virgin goddess sprung. Yet, far unlike
A maid sequester'd from the public eye,
She, early train'd in dignity and state,
In sanctity of manners to attract
A nation's rev'rence, to th' advancing chief
In sweet composure unreluctant yields
Her bridal hand, who down the vaulted isle,
Where echo joins the hymeneal song,
Conducts the fair; before the costly shrine,
Perfum'd with incense, and with garlands deck'd,
Presents her charms, and thus in manly pray'r:
My patron god, from Salamis I come,
One of thy naval sons, erecting there
Thy recent trophies; let me hence convey
With thy concurrent smile this precious prize,
Thy sacerdotal virgin. I return
To thee a pious votary, to her
A constant lover; on thy servants pour
Thy nuptial blessing. Yet, earth-shaking god,
Not bound in sloth thy warrior shall repose,
Nor languishing obscure in sweetest bliss
Desert thy glory. Soon as wintry storms
Thy nod controls, and vernal breezes court
The unfurling canvass, my unweary'd helm
Shall cleave thy floods, till each Barbarian coast
Acknowledge thy supremacy, and bow
To Grecian Neptune. Credulous the train,
Surrounding, in religious rapture see
The colossean image of their god
Smile on their hero, meriting the smiles
Of deities and mortals. Fortune adds
Her casual favour; on Cleander's mast
To perch, a pair of turtle doves she sends
From Neptune's temple. To his vessel crown'd
With Hymen's wreaths, bestrewn with herbs and flow'rs,
Exhaling fragrance, down the slope he guides
His Ariphilia, priestess now no more.
So Hermes, guardian of the Graces, leads
Their chief, Aglaia, o'er th' Olympian hall,
Warn'd by the muses, in preluding strains,
The dance on heav'n's bright pavement to begin,
And charm the festive gods. The flood repass'd,
They, as Troezenian institutes require,
The fane of young Hippolytus approach,
That victim pure to chastity, who left
Old Theseus childless. From the youthful heads
Of both their hair is sever'd, on his shrine
Their maiden off'ring laid. They next ascend
An awful structure, sacred to the Fates,
There grateful own that goodness which decreed
Their happy union. To the Graces last
Their vows are paid, divinities benign,
Whom Ariphilia fervent thus invokes:
O goddesses, who all its sweetness shed
On human life! whate'er is beauteous here,
Illustrious, happy, to your favour owes
Its whole endearment; wanting you, our deeds
Are cold and joyless. In my husband's eye
Preserve me lovely, not in form alone,
But that supreme of graces in my sex,
Complacency of love. She pray'd; her look
Reveal'd, that heav'n would ratify her pray'r.
Now in her father's dwelling they remain
Till dusky ev'ning. On a bridal car,
Constructed rich, the paranymph then seats
The blooming fair; one side Cleander fills,
The other Medon, she between them rides,
By torches clear preceded. Lively sounds
The ceremonial music; soon they reach
The bridegroom's mansion; there a feast receives
Unnumber'd friends; the nuptial dance and song
Are now concluded. To her fragrant couch
A joyful mother lights the blushing bride;
Cleander follows; in the chamber shut,
He leaves the guests exulting to revive
Their song to Hymen, and renew the dance.
Three days succeeding were to gymnic feats
Devoted; Medon's warlike spear obtains
A second chaplet; Haliartus won
The wrestler's prize; to hurl the massy disk
None match'd the skill of Timon, still robust,
Tho' rev'rend threads of silver had begun
To streak his locks of sable. Southern gales
Now call on Medon's laden fleet to sail,
Ere winter frowns. With Timon at his side,
And Haliartus, in this gentle phrase
His noble host and hostess fair he greets:
May ev'ry joy kind wishes can devise,
Or language utter, hospitable pair,
Be yours for ever! may a num'rous race
In virtue grow by your parental care!—
With sev'n dear pledges of connubial love
I left a brother, watching my return
In Atalanté, small, exhausted isle,
Which needs my instant succour. Gen'rous friend,
To thee I trust my treasure, thou discharge
The claim of Troezen for th' abundant stores
Which load our vessels; for a time farewell,
The vernal sun will see our love renew'd,
And swords combin'd against Mardonius bold.
He said: the lovely Ariphilia weeps;
Cleander sighs, but speeds his parting guests.
End of the Tenth Book.