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Of woe.

Yet fearless he maintains the strife
With native force devoid of gymnic skill,
In which confiding Hyacinthus oft

Inverts his spear, and levels bloodless strokes,
Still vigilant to ward the hostile point,
Oft o'er his buckler glancing, though impell'd
By active strength. At last a pond'rous blow
Full on the Persian's front descends; a groan
Is heard throughout the rampart as he falls;
The groan redoubles, as the victor bears
That leader captive to th' investing camp.

To his own tent Themistocles admits
The Persian's batter'd, but unwounded limbs;
Fle praises Hyacinthus; he consoles
The noble foe, commends to healing rest,
And at returning morn salutes him thus:

"If thee unransom'd, Mindarus, I send To Oreus, canst thou pity her estate

Curst in a monster? Canst thou feel the wound
Of thy own glory longer to support
The worst of men, excluded by his crimes
From Heav'n's protection, and the laws of faith?
Wilt thou, to spare whole rivulets of blood,
Greek and barbarian, render to my arms
The town, and thus procure thyself a name
To live for ever, by a righteous act,
Delighting gods and mortals? Thee my ships
Shall land in safety on thy native shore;
The king will praise thee for his army sav'd,
Which shall partake my clemency. Reject
All hope, good Persian, to withstand my arm;
I am Themistocles." The satrap starts
From languor thus: "Athenian, I confess
Thy greatness, thy ascendency have felt;
But will endure, whate'er a victor's pow'r
Inflicts on captives, rather than pollute
My loyal faith to Xerxes; from my king
I took my charge, and never will betray.
The crimes of Demonax I know; myself
Have prov'd their horrours in Cleora's fate.
I lov'd, ador'd her excellence; her thread
His impious rage dissever'd; on her tomb
My tears have daily flow'd. Retain me still
Thy captive, never to revisit more
Her father's hateful mansion. Heav'n permit,
By thy vindictive arm, but Heav'n forbid,
That ever by disloyalty of mine,

Th' infernal authour of her death may fall."
The barbarism of loyalty, which binds
Men to a monarch, but the monarch leaves
Free to his lusts, his cruelty, and rage,

Th' enlighten'd Greek despis'd, yet now deplor'd
In one by nature gifted to deserve

A better lot from Heav'n. Not less aware

Of democratic jealousy, which hurls
From fortune's summit heroes to the dust,
He press'd no further, cautioùs not to wound
A gallant mind, whose friendship won he meant
To use in wants, such fortune might create.
He leaves Sicinus near him; while his care
Exhausts the light in traversing the camp
To view the works. His evening orders hold
Each band in arms; while anxious in his tent
He sits deep-musing, whether to attempt
The town that night by storm, or patient wait
For some event less bloody, casual boon
Of time and fortune. Wasteful is delay,
But precious too his soldiers; such brave lives
The full completion of his vast design
Requires. Thus, dubious, till the second watch

Throughout the camp is toll'd, and clouded Heav'n
Drops down her sable veil, he sits; when lo!
Before him stands his monitor unknown,
The venerable figure, which he saw
At Ege. Staid Sicinus is the guide,
Who swift retires, but watches faithful nigh.
"Themistocles," the stranger solemn spake;
"Thee I have trusted, thou hast trusted me,
Nor either hath repented. Who I am,
Now learn. By friendship's sacred ties, by blood
To thy best friend Eudora I am bound,
Elephenor am call'd, pontific seer
Of Jupiter in Oreus. Timely warn'd
By her most urgent mandate to repose
All confidence in thee, and lend my aid,
Nor less admonish'd by Tisander sage,

I help'd thee first with counsel; now I bring
Effectual succour. Demonax, though foil'd,
Hath still a pow'rful remnant of his host
To man his walls, and desp'rate will defend.
Select two thousand spears; avoid delay;
A secret passage, known to holy steps
Alone, o'er town and tyrant will complete
Thy bloodless conquest." Swift the Attic chief:
"O father! sacred in my ear the sound
Of good Tisander's, great Eudora's names;
Thy former warnings I have prov'd sincere
To merit gratitude and trust." He calls
Sicinus, bids him summon all the chiefs
Of Locris and Carystus; they appear.
To Hyacinthus and Nicanor then
Themistocles: "Attend with all your bands
This rev'rend guide; intelligence transmit
As you advance." His orders are perform'd.
Next he exhorts th' Oïlean brethren thus,
Nor passes favour'd Haliartus by:

"You with your Locrians follow to support These friends, lest ambush and deception lurk Beneath a promise of assur'd success."

This said, himself forth issues to prepare
The gen'ral host for action, ev'n that night,
If fair occasion summons, when he meets
Træzene's leader. "Is Cleander here?"
Themistocles began. "Momentous sure,
The cause which sends thee from thy naval charge."
To him Cleander: "Anchor'd as I lay,

A slender skiff, when darkness first prevail'd,
Approach'd my galley. To an earnest suit
For conference I listen'd, and receiv'd
On board a man of Oreus, all in limbs
Deform'd, in lineaments all rude, whose name
Is Lamachus. To render up this night

A sep'rate fort he proffers, which commands
The town and harbour, if thy faith be pledg'd
Him and Thessalia's garrison to land
Safe on her neighb'ring coast. Thy will to learn
I come, he waits."-" His proffer I accept,"
Rejoins th' alert Athenian," and the doom,
I had prepar'd for those degen'rate Greeks,
Postpone." Cleander to his station flies.
Serene th' Athenian in array contains
His army cool, with expectation mute.
So, in deceitful quiet, oft the main
Before the glazing light of Dian spreads
A mirror smooth; the ruler of the winds
Anon from troubled clouds, and ocean's god
From his tempestuous chariot, give the sign
For wild commotion; then the surging brine
Assails the loftiest tops of reeling masts,
Foams on the rocks, and deluges the beach.

BOOK XIX.

THE morning breaks; Nicanor sudden greets
The gen'ral; welcome tidings in these words
He utters loud: "The citadel is won,

The tyrant slaughter'd. With our sacred guide
A rugged, winding track, in brambles hid,
Half up a crag we climb'd; there, stooping low,
A narrow cleft we enter'd; mazy still
We trod through dusky bowe's of a rock,
While our conductor gather'd, as he stepp'd,
A clue, which careful in his hand he coil'd.
Our spears we trail'd; each soldier held the skirt
Of his preceding comrade. We attain'd
An iron wicket, where the ending line
Was fasten'd; thence a long and steep ascent
Was hewn in steps; suspended on the sides,
Bright rows of tapers cheer'd our eyes with light.
We reach'd the top; there lifting o'er his head
A staff, against two horizontal valves

Our leader smote, which open'd at the sound.
Behind me Hyacinthus on the rock

Sunk sudden down, pronouncing in his fall
Cleora. I on Hyacinthus call'd.

"Is this Cleora's husband?' cried the priest; 'Descend, my Pamphila, my wife, descend.'

"She came, a rev'rend priestess; tender both With me assisting plac'd my speechless friend Within a cleft by me unmark'd before, Which seem'd a passage to some devious cell. Me by the hand Elephenor remov'd Precipitate; a grating door of brass Closs'd on my parting steps. 'Ascend,' he said, Make no inquiry: but remain assur'd, His absence now is best.' I mount, I rise Behind a massy basis which upheld Jove grasping thunder, and Saturnia crown'd, Who at his side outstretch'd her scepter'd hand. The troops succeeding fill the spacious dome. Last, unexpected, thence more welcome, rose, Detach'd from Medon with five hundred spears, Brave Haliartus, who repair'd the want Of my disabled colleague. Now the priest : "Ye chiefs, auxiliar to the gods profan'd, And men oppress'd, securely you have reach'd The citadel of Oreus. The dark hour Befriends your high attempt. Let one possess The only entrance from the town below, The other swift the palace must surprise, Where Demonax lies slumb`ring, if his guilt Admits of rest, and dreams not of your spears.' "With small resistance from a drowsy guard I seiz'd the gate; the palace soon was fore'd By Haliartus. Demonax maintain'd, From door to door, fierce combat, till he sunk, Blaspheming ev'ry pow'r of Heav'n and Hell, On his own couch, beneath repeated wounds Delv'd in his body by the Carian sword, Whose point produc'd the sever'd head in view." "This news, Sicinus, to Eudora bear," Themistocles began. "Before her feet Fall grateful, kiss for me her hallow'd robe; My venerable friend Tisander hail, To her, to him, this victory we owe. Salute Timoxenus, my noble host, Greet his excelling daughter; let them hear Of brave Nicanor, and the Carian sword, Which, closing at a blow this dang'rous war, Preserves so many Greeks. Carystian chief,

Accept from me good tidings in return
For thine. Intelligence this hour hath brought,
That vigilant Cleander hath possess'd
The naval fort, an inlet to the town

For his whole army, pouring from our ships
Successive numbers, if the Persian bands
Yet meditate resistance. Not to give
Their consternation leisure to subside,
Against the walls each standard shall advance."
He said, and gave command. The diffrent chiefs
Head their battalions. Oreus trembling sees
Encircling danger; heralds in their pomp,
Dread summoners, are nigh. Her foreign guard,
Depriv'd of wonted leaders, at the fail
Of Demonax aghast, in thought behold
Death in the conquer'd citadel extend
His hideous arms to beckon from the fleet
Cleander's valour, and from swarming tents
Themistocles. On his approach the gates
Are thrown abroad. From all the Persian bands
Their javelins, shields, and banners on the ground.
Pale fear deposits. Thus the yielding masts
Of all their canvass mariners divest,
When Eolus is riding on a storm

To overwhelm the vessel, which would drive
In full apparel to resist his ire.

Th' Athenian, though triumphant, in his joy
Omits no care. To schylus awhile

The charge supreme transferring, he ascends
The citadel; the Carian victor there
Conducts him o'er the palace, shows the corse
Of Demonax, his treasury unspoil'd,
By chosen Locrians guarded. Pleas'd, the chief
Embraces Haliartus: "Friend," he said,
"Though late acquir'd, inestimable friend,
How shall I praise thee? But my bosom, wrapt
In long concealment, now to thee alone
Disclos'd, shall warrant my profess'd regard.
Know, that whatever thou hast heard, or seen
Of my Euboean labours, are no more
Than preparation for a wider stage
Of action. Gold, one necessary means,
Thou hast provided; but I want a man
Of hardy limbs and vig'rous, bold, discreet,
Who all the Persian quarters would explore,
On either side Thermopyla; would trace
Whate'er employs Mardonius, what the time
He takes the field, and where his gather'd stores
Of war deposits. Thessaly provok'd
Long since my just resentment. Ere the king
Of Asia pass'd the Hellespont, I led
Ten thousand Greeks her passes to defend ;
By her deserted and betray'd, I march'd
Unprofitably back." The Carian here:
"Had I endowments cqual to my will,
I were that man. Accept me, as I am;
Vers'd in those borders, me, whose faithful zeal
Leonidas experienc'd and approv'd;

So let Themistocles. My rustic weeds
I can resume to range th' CEtæan crags,
The fields of Locris, and Thessalia's plains.

"Thou art that man," the Athenian quick re

join'd;

"Then hold thee ready. Sudden in their birth
Are my resolves, and, when mature, have wings."
This said, he visits Eschylus below.
Judicious he in stations had dispos'd
The various bands; the pris'ners were secur'd.
Throughout th' Orean streets and dwellings reign'd
Tranquillity and order. Him the son

Of Neocles bespake: "To morrow's dawn
Shall see thee honour'd, as becomes a chief,
Whom Aristides nam'd, and Athens chose
To save Eubora. I defer till night
Our consultations. I, not wanted here,
Will reascend the citadel; the voice
Of friendship calls me to a tender care."
He seeks the fane. Elephenor he greets;
Applause to him in gratitude unfeign'd
Presenting, next his earnest lips inquire
Of Hyacinthus. Here the rev'rend man:
"First know, his dear Cleora is alive.
I, priest of Jove, and Pamphila my wife,
Who to th' Olympian empress in this seat
Of blended rites are ministers, when told
That Demonax bad doom'd his child to death,
Solicited her pardon in the names

Of both divinities. At both he spurn'd,
While we contriv'd this stratagem. Her nurse,
By us admonish'd, in due time declar'd
Cleora dead. The body of a slave,
A youthful maiden recently expir'd,
Was for Cleora carried to the flames,
While her we shelter'd in a secret cell,
From human sight, from sight of day conceal'd.
These pow'rs, alike offended at th' intent
As perpetration of an impious deed,
Have sent thee forth their instrument of wrath,
Divinely-prompted hero. Wilt thou shed

On Hyacinthus and Cleora's bliss

Which met Cleora's. Down the shield and spear
Dropp'd from my hands disabled; life forsook
My heart, which irrecoverably lost

All sense of duty both to thee and Greece,
By me alone deserted."-
"_" Bless that chance,"
Themistocles replies, and leads aside

Th' attentive youth. "Perhaps these gods ordain'd,
In compensation of thy long distress,

In recompense of pure and constant love,
That to Cleora thou, unstain'd with blood,
Blood of her father by another slain,
Shouldst be restor'd, nor taint with horrours new
This thy new hymen. Eschylus by morn
Will sit in judgment righteous, but severe,
On each Euboean criminal, the dead
Not less than living. Instantly remove
To thy Carystian home thy wife and babe;
Whate'er can pass in Oreus must offend
Her eye and ear." Then turning to the fair:
"From warlike toils thy consort I dismiss;
He, who so nobly signaliz'd his sword
In single combat, and the open field,
And prov'd his valour equal to his love,
All future palms to others may resign.
Whatever comforts, time and peace can yield,
Are due to both your suff'rings; nor an hour
Shalt thou be cloister'd in this rueful cell.
Elephenor, discreet and rev'rend man,
Let thy kind clue conduct their secret steps.
With presents laden, tokens of my love,

Thy guardian smile?" This utter'd, down the steps Cars shall attend them at the cavern's mouth; He guides th' Athenian to the hidden cell.

By his Cleora, Hyacinthus sat.
The youthful husband o'er the snowy breast,
Which lull'd and cherish'd a reposing babe,
The blooming father o'er that precious fruit
Hung fondly. Thoughtful ecstasy recall'd
His dream at Juno's temple; where he saw
The visionary bosom of his bride
Disclose maternal to an infant new
That pillow smooth of lilies. Wan, her cheek
Told her confinement from the cheerful day.
Six moons in deep obscurity she dwelt;
Where, as a sea-nymph underneath a rock,
Or Indian genie in the cavern'd earth,
Her cell in conchs and coral she had dress'd,
By gracious Pamphila supply'd to cheat
Time and despair. The loom her patient art
Had plied, her own sad story had begun,
Now to conclude in joy. The starting youth
Beholds his patron, rushes on his breast
In transport thus: "Redeemer of my peace!
Balm of my grief! of happiness my source!
My health of mind and body is thy gift.
If in his anguish Hyacinthus felt
His obligation, in the hour of bliss
To what excess must gratitude expand
His bosom now! Cleora and my child
I owe to thy protection-this is she,
This is my goddess, this my light, my joy,
Deriv'd from thy humanity. Thou god
Of Hyacinthus, tutelary god!

Thou from the pit of horrour didst upraise
My limbs, for ever to its bottom chain'd
Without thy helpful hand; without thee death
Had been my portion; never had I liv'd
To see Cleora, never known this day!
But will my gen'ral overlook my fault?
Thy soldier, in his subterranean march
Tow'rds this retirement, threw a casual glance,

Thou add thy blessing, that their new-born day
May never set in sorrow." Thus the chief,
Relax'd from busy care, amid success,
Which not a shade of obstacle o'erhangs,
Spake, as he felt, remunerating full
For all his service Hyacinthus brave.

His knees embracing, thus Cleora spake:
"I have not utt'rance for my grateful heart;
If thou dismiss us never more to see
Thy guardian face, our day will set in grief."

In smiles th' Athenian dissipates that fear:
"Long ere thy husband's majesterial term
Is finish'd, I have further still to crave
From him as archon, not as soldier, help.
This to Carystus would alone direct
My footsteps; else amid domestic joys
To see thy days illumin'd, precious time
Themistocles would borrow from his charge."
Thus in the grateful fair-one he secur'd
Another friend, if wanted to support
His vast designs, which, gath'ring on his mind,
Speed his departure with a kind farewell.

The cars he orders, from the tyrant's stores
Rich presents draws, to Eschylus returns,
With him in conf'rence spends remaining day.
Aurora hears Themistocles command
Stern proclamation, by the trumpet's voice,
For judgment on the guilty. All in chains
The tyrant's hated counsellors are brought,
Save Lamachus, by faith of treaty safe
Bound to Thessalian shores; but chief the sev'n
Geræstian ruffians their assassin heads
Hang hopeless down. Amid the widest space
In Oreus lofty a tribunal stands,

Which schylus ascends, commander high
Of troops enroll'd by Athens. So her son
Disgrac'd, but courting favour new, devis'd
Her democratic jealousy to soothe.

The various chieftains, through this glorious war

So late distinguish'd, round the solemn seat
Conspicuous wait, Themistocles himself
At the right hand of Æschylus. He sits
Like Minos sage, whose justice gain'd from Jove
Th' appointment awful to condemn, or spare
His fellow mortals in the world below.

When now th' accusers and accus'd were heard, Thus spake the warrior-poet: "Crimes like these The legislator punishes with death;

Let us attempt within our scanty sphere,
Far as we may, to imitate the gods

In punishment deserv'd. Through those abodes
Which Hades governs, long the vulture gnaws;
Long is the toil of Sisyphus; to fill

Their leaking vases long the murd❜rous seed
Of Danaus must strive. By labour, pain,
And shame continu'd, let flagitious men
Long wish to end their suff'rings, not enjoy
That wish'd-for period in a single pang.
This heavy sentence on assassin heads,
On foul, atrocious counsellors of ill,
Lo! I pronounce. An ignominious brand
Imprint on every forehead; plunge them chain'd,
Debas'd by vile impurity of garb,

In deep Chalcidian quarries; give them food
Just for endurance of continued toil,
With daily stripes, that cruelty may feel
What she inflicts on others, and, impell'd
By desperation, court relief in death.
Before the gate of Oreus on a cross
Extend the limbs of Demonax; the flesh
Let kites deform, let parching air the bones
Of that despotic malefactor bleach,
Avenging man, and vindicating Heav'n.
Flow next a strain more pleasing through the ear,
A strain delightful to that fav'ring god
Who first created laurel to adorn

The good and brave. A chaplet from his tree,
Ten captives, ten selected suits of arms

To ev'ry leader; one barbarian slave,
A sabre, targe, whatever to the field
Accouters one barbarian, I allot
To ev'ry soldier. Phoebus will supply
His laurel too, encompassing your brows,
Ye gen'rous people. But a splendid store
Of tripods, urns, and images provide
For great Eudora, and th' Eretrian seer,
That your triumphal off'ring may emblaze
Euboea's fanes; nor less with honours greet
Elephenor, your genius of success.
Eudora's portion thou, heroic priest,
Phoebean Timon, to her presence bear.
I need but name Acanthè to attract
Your veneration; for Acanthè choose,
Sweet paragon of Chalcis, from your spoils
The costly tissue of Barbaric looms,
And dazzling gems, that gratitude may vie
With obligation. Haliartus, bright
In recent glories from a tyrant slain,
Thou at her feet the precious tribute lay.
For me, if, servant of Cecropia's state,
I have upheld her justice and renown,
Your approbation is the sole reward
Which I solicit, or will bear away

On my returning keel." He ceas'd. In roar
Surpassing waves, which beat the craggy strand
Amidst a tempest, from the gen'ral host
Broke forth applause. Themistocles subjoin'd:
"Awhile, my friends, your labours I suspend;
Go to your homes; to kind, expecting wives

|

Recount your trophies; let your children see
Paternal mansions hung with Asian spoils.
Remember still that valour must not sleep;
That law restor❜d, and freedom, are not firm
While Asia's trumpet sounds a blast in Greece."
Two days elapse; Timoxenus, arriv'd
From Chalcis, joyful gratulation brings.
Solicitous th' Athenian first inquires

Of fair Acanthè's state. The father fond
Thus answers: "Wasting malady is fled,
But hath behind it left indiff'rence cold
To ev'ry joy. Thy wife a bracelet sent;
These words the bearer Haliartus brought,
Charg'd by Timothea elegant and wise.
'From me this present when Acanthè takes,
Say, how I prize her elevated mind,
Enabling my Themistocles to quell
The hateful breed of tyrants. Further say,
The man engaging her connubial hand

I should esteem the fav'rite of Heaven.'

I heard approving; on the grateful hint
A secret hour I chose; my daughter's ear

I thus address'd. 'My only child and hope,
Shall no sweet offspring cheer a grandsire's age?
Shall my possessions to a stranger pass,
My blood be lost for ever? Shall this war,
Thy work, Acanthè, which a father's love,
In all to thee complying, at thy suit
Commenc'd, produce no hero to console
Thy widow'd couch? The sacrifice of life,
Of my ideal, or my real peace,

Is due to such a father,' she exclaim'd
In pious fervour. 'Arguments to urge
Against thy plea my age and thine forbid;
But ah! dear parent, my capricious fate
Presents no suitor to thy child's esteem.'
The Amarythian priestess, whose control
Surpassess mine, with sternness oft enforc'd
My just desire. At length my daughter thus
On my departure: I obey; consult
Themistocles; let him a cousort name,

Who best hath serv'd him in this righteous war'."
Ne'er yet ill chance, or sorrow, from the son
Of Neocles drew tears. His soul reflects
On this transcendent fair-one, who had chang'd
The violence of passion to respect
So confidential, drest in sweetest grace
So far beyond his merits tow'rds a heart
Of purest texture, late by him misled
To errour, now to purity restor'd
By native honour. At th' affecting thought
He turns those eyes, till then of stedfast look
On all events and objects, turns aside

To hide their oozing dews; yet soon he spake:
"None can I name, but wise Timothea's choice
To bear her present, Haliartus brave,
Who hath avow'd to Eschylus and me
A veneration for thy matchless child;
But he, appointed to a service high,
Like Hercules must labour yet to gain
The sum of bliss. For three successive moons
He must continue mine." The past events
In copious strains the hero now rehears'd,
Concluding thus: "The army I disband;
Great Eschylus for Athens straight embarks;
I shall remain in Oreus to compose
This troubled city; thou resume thy way;
The criminals transported in thy train
Lock in the quarries; to Acanthè all
Unravel; her and Chalcis too prepare

For due reception of that happy man,
Whom Jove hath honour'd in a tyrant's death,
Whom Juno soon in nuptial ties will bless,
And all Eubœa to Acanthè sends
With tokens rich of public praise and love."
With joy Timoxenus assents; the morn
Sees him depart; at Chalcis he arrives,
Performing all Themistocles enjoin'd.

Now ev'ry temple breathes perfumes; prepar'd
Are chosen victims, colonnades and gates
With chaplets hung; the garden's flow'ry growth,
Each scented produce of luxuriant fields,
The maids and matrons bear, to welcome home
Triumphant warriors. Now th' expected gleams
Of armour tinge the champaign's utmost verge;
Near and more near the military pomp,
At large develop'd o'er the green expanse,
Spears, bucklers, helmits, plumes, barbaric spoils
In trophies pil'd on hollow-sounding cars,

Grow on the sight. Through Chalcis lies the march;

Those in abode the most remote precede.
Geræstian banners first Eudemus shows;
With Lampon follow Styra's gallant troop;
The Amarynthian and Carystian bands
Nicanor leads; th' Eretrians, now become
Once more a people, with their wives and race
At length redeem'd, to Cleon's orders move.
In blooming garlands had the mothers deck'd
Their children's heads, whom, tripping through
the streets,

Spectatress equal to the loftiest scene,
Eudora blesses. Sweet Acanthè melts
In tears of gladness, while her father nigh
Awakes attention to a num'rous train,
Her native friends, whom brave Nearchus heads.
"These are thy warriors," fondly cries the sire.
To whom Eudora: "Who is he in state
Pontifical, a holy man in arms?”

a form

Three hundred Delphians then were passing by,
Phœbean branches twisted round their spears,
Behind them, lodg'd on axles rolling slow,
Were vases, tripods, images, and busts,
Spoils of the palace Demonax had rais'd.
"Thou seest," replies Timoxenus, "
To Phœbus dear, the venerable form
Of Timon, priest and soldier. From that car
He will descend to kiss thy sacred hand,
Before thy feet a precious tribute lay
For thy pure goddess, sister of his god.
But look, my sweet Acanthè, on the man
Themistocles hath chosen to revive
My drooping years. Preceded by a troop
Of youths, whom Medon, ever kind, hath cull'd
From all his Locrian files to grace his friend;
Preceded by a trophy, which displays
The silver mail of Demonax, his shield,
His helm of gold, his variegated arms,
And spear in length ten cubits, which upholds
The tyrant's head, his victor meets our eyes,
Th' illustrious son of Lygdamis." She cast
Not an impassion'd, but revering glance
On one, whose might victorious had dissolv'd
Euboean thraldom, one of noble frame,
In feature comely, and in look serene,
Whom her sole guide, the all-controlling son
Of Neocles, had destin'd for her lord,

Her dream recurs; the tyrant's head she sees;
Th' exploit sublime, though not by him achiev'd,
Whom partial fancy on her pillow show'd,
VOL. XVII.

Her ever-wakeful loftiness of mind
Admires impartial, and applauds the hand
Which dealt the glorious blow. Her awful brow
The priestess softens to a smile, and thus:

"Is this the suitor, whom my hero chose
For bright Acanthè? Favour'd by the gods,
Themistocles in ev'ry action proves
He cannot err." Acanthè hears, and press'd
By duty's insurmountable control,
Aw'd by Eudora's majesty austere,
Resolves to meet him with becoming grace,
But of his virtue make one trial more.

The Delphian priest and Haliartus quit
Their chariots; them Timoxenus receives
To his rich mansion and a sumptuous board.
Eudora there, with curious eyes and voice,
Explores and questions oft the Carian brave.
His Delphian friend, observing, in these words
Besought him: "O, distinguish'd by the gods!
Who have in thee their care of virtue shown,
Since from Euboea thou must soon depart,
Lose not the present hour. These matchless dames
Must hear thy wondrous narrative at large;
For singular thy fortunes with events
Are interwoven to delight the ear,

Affect the heart, and win th' applauding tongue;
That all may honour thy desert supreme
Like me, so much thy debtor." Straight complies
The modest Carian; list'ning silence reigns.

In native windings from his Lydian fount
As various flow'd Mæander, here along
A level champaign, daisy-painted meads,
Or golden fields of Ceres, here through woods
In green arcades projecting o'er his banks,
There shut in rock, which irritates the stream,
Here by low hamlets, there by stately towns,
Till he attained the rich Magnesian seat;
Thence with augmented fame and prouder floods
Roll'd down his plenteous tribute to the main:
So through the mazes of his fortune winds
In artless eloquence th' expressive strain
Of Haliartus, from his peasant state
To scenes heroic. Humble still in mind,
Compell'd to follow truth's historic clue,
He ends in glory, which his blushes grace;
Nor less they grace these frank and manly words,
Which to Acanthè singly he directs:

"Such as I am, thou elevated fair,
Who hast Euboea's liberty restor'd,
Her grateful off'rings to thy feet I bring;
With them an humble suppliant to thy smile,
That he may rank thy soldier, in thy name
His own distinguish, and, achieving well
The task by great Themistocles impos'd,
Deserve Acanthe's favour." She replies
With virtuous art: "Can soldiers never know
Satiety of fame? must her career

[smiles,

Be still beginning, never be complete?
Must ev'ry passion yield to thirst of praise?
Should I request thee, wouldst thou for my sake
Thy new attempt relinquish, to enjoy
Thy ample portion of acquir'd renown
In peace at Chalcis?" Haliartus then:
"Not love of fame, which oft'ner frowns than
Not victory, nor spoil, inflate my breast,
All unaspiring. Sense of duty pure,
Of obligation, which I owe to Greece,
Themistocles, and Medon, rules supreme
Within my soul. O, first of mortal fair!
Thou of his peace thy servant might'st deprive;
L

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