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 Inquiry more of Melibaeus, known Safe in Nicæa; Persia's youth departs; The mournful train for Salamis embark.
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 Eleusis, 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. Ægaleos 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 straits; 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, Surpassing 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 Amyclæ, 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 Eschylus, each leader is unmann'd By horrour, 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: "Choose 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 pæan 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, Eschylus, be 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 [blood." Their weapons sheath'd, unting'd with kindred 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, enclos'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 power of Xerxes to bestow, By your own prowess singly to be won, Those beauteous women; emblems they of Greece, Show 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 Ægaleos 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 Ecide; the ghosts Of Telamon and Peleus, Ajax there, There bright Achilles buoyant on the gale, Stretch from Ægina 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 straits 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 Eschylus; 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 Atlantéan 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 horrour, 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 downfall. 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 Træzen and Ægina broke
Th' Egyptian 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 Eschylus 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' Egyptians fly, Phoenicians, fam'd on oriental waves, Resign the day. Mironides in chase, 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 Trozene's conqu'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 straits, where loose Pamphylians spread A timid canvass, Hellespontine Greeks, Ionians, Dorians, and Eolians 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 Etna, 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 soldierly address:
"Be not discourag'd, sov'reign of the world! Not oars, not sails and timber, can decide Thy enterprise 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 control, 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 sceptres 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, ou 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 Egyptians, 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 Superduous 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 hier she follow'd, where the corse Of Ariabignes lay. Mardonius met, And thus address'd her :
Of all the myriads whom retreat hath sav'd,
Of glory. Thus the tawny king of beasts, Who o'er Numidian wastes hath lost a day In fruitless chase, 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 ligh,—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. Farewell."-She leaves him happy in her voice Of approbation, happier in her eye, Which spoke for his prosperity a wish; That eye, enlightening 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,
Hail! crown'd with honour! Xerxes through my Beyond a friendship to her friendship du,
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 relics; 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
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 Lacedæmon, 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
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 chase Forgot that best of counsellors and guides, Friend of my infant, youthful, manly age! If he be lost!-Ob, ominous the thought! Masistius lost!-My fortune, hopes, and joys, My virtues are no more!"-He rushes wild Abroad; commands a genʼral search; himself Down to the port precipitates his course.
The son of Gobryas and the Carian queen Were thus removed. 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; choke 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.
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 enfold 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 terrour 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 Herstrength, and cover Greece with Persian graves.” By famine, sword, and pestilence, exhaust
"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,
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