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 lanch 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 Trozen's walls to waft their wives and race,
Left in our trust. Meantime the diffrent 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 ersist 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 fan'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 shown before. To sinall Træzene'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
Oilean fame. Cleander, I am bound

To Lacedæmon; 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 Melibous 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 Ethiopia, in Mæonian 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 Trazene'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 Trozene by, whose gen'rous chief
Accompanies to shore his Locrian guest

66

At Cynosura. Spartan is this port,"

[sails

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 Trazen's stores." They part; he
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 Lacedæmon hast'ning, Medon gains
Træzene'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 the 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 Trozenian 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,
Though 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 Trozen 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.

BOOK XI.

TH' unloos'd anchors to the waves resign
The Delphian keels, while Auster's friendly breath,
Their burden light'ning, soon to Sunium shows
The spreading sails. Two vessels, riding there,
Receive embarking warriors. On the beach
Looks Medon stedfast: "By almighty Jove,"
He cries aloud, "Themistocles I see!
O Haliartus, O my holy friend,

We must not leave unvisited a shore
Which holds that living trophy to our view,
The victor-chief at Salamis." The skiff
Is lanch'd; they land. Themistocles begins
The salutation: "Hail! Oïleus' son,
Thou rev'rend host of Athens, Timon, hail!
Your unexpected presence here excites
A pleasing wonder. Whither do ye steer
These well-remember'd vessels, which convey'd
Thee, first of Locrians, with our Attic bard,
To Salamis from Delphi? In that course
Was Timon captive made, whom, freed at last,
My joyful arms embrace." The Locrian here:
"To Atalanté, in Eubœan straits,

We steer; another of Oïlean race,
Through bounteous Heav'n, a refuge there obtains,
My brother, good Leonteus, with a band
Of gallant Locrians, ready at my call
To lift their bucklers in defence of Greece.
But why, remote from Athens, on the strand
Of naked Sunium, do I see the son
Of Neocles, so recently by me
At Sparta left?" Themistocles replies:

"Forbear inquiry now, O virtuous branch
Of that ennobled stock, th' Oïlean house!
If e'er my conduct merited thy praise,
If thou believ'st me studious of the fame
Which follows manly deeds, forbear to doubt
Th' unwearied further efforts of my limbs,
My heart, my talents: secresy matures,
Time brings the labour of the mind to birth.
Were those first steps reveal'd, which restless

thought,

Constructing some vast enterprise, ascends, How wild a wand'rer, Medon, would appear

The policy of man! But, gen'rous chief,
Whose valour, whose experience might assure
A prosp'rous issue to a bold exploit,
Say, should I open on some future day
To thy discerning sight the clearest track,
Where to success one glorious stride might reach,
Wouldst thou be ready at my call?" He paus'd.
From such a mouth, such captivating words
Insinuate sweetness through the Locrian's ear,
Who feels th' allurement; yet, by prudence rul'd,
This answer frames: "Through such a glorious
track

Whoever guides, may challenge Medon's aid;
Thou prove that guide, my steps shall follow close,
Unless by Aristides call'd, whose voice
Commands my service." Cool th' Athenian hides
The smart his wounded vanity endures,
And manly thus, unchang'd in look, rejoins:

"I ask no more; I rest my future claim
On Medon's valour, only to support
What Aristides shall approve. Farewell.
Avail thee straight of these propitious winds;
In Atalanté, known to me of old,

What force thou can'st, assemble; dread no wants,
I will be watchful to supply them all."
They part. Now Medon, under hoisted sails,,
Remarks unwonted transport on the cheek
Of Haliartus. "O my peasant weeds,"
His joy exclaims, "how gratefully you rise
In my remembrance now! From you my hopes
Forebode some benefit to Greece. Dear lord,

Forbear inquiry; by yon hero warn'd,
In secresy my thoughts, till form'd complete,
Lie deeply bury'd." Timon smil'd, and spake:
"I know, full often enterprises bold
Lie in the womb of mystery conceal'd;
Thus far th' Athenian hero and thyself
Raise expectation; but I further know,
His faculties are matchless, thou art brave,
Unerring Medon like my god is wise;
Thence expectation soars on steady wings.
O light of Greece, Themistocles, exert

Thy boundless pow'rs! mature thy pregnant plan!
Whene'er the glorious mystery unveils,
Me and my Delphians thou shalt find prepar'd."
The turbulent Euripus swift they plough
In pleasing converse thus, and clasp, in hope,
Their anxious friends on Atalanté's shore.

When ev'ry mast was hid by Sunium's cape,
Thus to his faithful minister, the son
Of Neocles: "Sicinus, hast thou seen
My followers on board? The treasures brought
From Xerxes, those my spoils of war supply,
The arms, the stores, Sicinus, has thy care
Deposited in safety?"—"Yes," replies

Th' entrusted servant. "Now thyself embark,"
His lord enjoins, who, musing thus, remains:
"If my attempt to further I have won
This gallant Locrian, frankly I confess
My debt to Fortune; but this casual boon
I can forego, if wantonly her hand
Resumes; Themistocles alone can trace
A path to glory." Tow'rds the land he turns,
Proceeding thus: "Now, Attica, farewell,
Awhile farewell. To thee, barbarian gold,
Themistocles resorts; my bosom guest,
Whom Aristides in disdain would spurn,
By thee, O gift of Xerxes, I will raise
The weal of Athens, and a fresh increase
To my own laurels. Uncontroll'd, supreme

Is Aristides. He the Attic youth
In phalanx bright to victory may lead ;
Minerva's bird Xanthippus may display
To Asia, trembling at their naval flag;
A private man, Themistocles will reach
Your summits, fellow citizens, preferr'd
To his command. Ye chosen heroes, wait
For breezy Spring to wanton in your sails,
Then range your vig'rous files, and pamper'd steeds;
Themistocles, amid septentrion snows,
Shall rouse Despair and Anguish from their den
Of lamentation; Poverty shall blaze
In radiant steel; pale Misery shall grasp
A standard. Athens, thy rejected son
Extorted aid from tyranny shall draw
On his own greatness to establish thine."

Swift he embarks, like Neptune when he mounts
His rapid conch to call the tempests forth,
Upturn the floods, and rule them when they rage.
The third clear morning shows Eretria's port,
Among Euboean cities once superb,
Eretria now in ashes. She had join'd
Th' Athenians, bold invaders, who consum'd
The capital of Lydia, to revenge
Ionian Greeks enthrall d. Eretria paid
Severe atonement to Hystaspes' son,
Incens'd Darius. To a Cissian plain,

A central space of his unbounded realm,
Far from their ancient seat, which flames devour'd,
He her exterminated race confin'd,

Sad captives, never to revisit more

Their native isle. A silent wharf admits
Themistocles on shore, a void extent,
Where sons of Neptune heretofore had swarm'd.
No mooring vessel in the haven rode,

No footstep mark'd the ways; sole inmates there,
Calamity and Horrour, as enthron'd,
Sat on o'erwhelming ruins, and forbade
The hero passage, till a seeming track
Presents, half bury'd in surrounding heaps
Of desolation, what appears a dome
Rais'd to some god. Themistocles observes
A shatter'd porch, whose proud supporters lie
In fraginents, save one column, which upholds
Part of a sculptur'd pediment, where, black
By conflagration, an inscription maim'd
Retains these words, "To ELEUTHERIAN JOVE,"
Th' Athenian enters, follow'd by his train
In arms complete. Excluded was the day
By ruins pil'd externally around,

Unless what broken thinly-scatter'd rays
Shot through th'encumber'd portal. Soon they stand
Amidst obscuring dusk in silence all,

All motionless in wonder, while a voice,
Distinct in tone, delivers through the void
These solemn accents: "Eleutherian god!
Since no redeemer to Eretria fall'n
Thy will vouchsafes, why longer dost thou keep
Thy aged servant on a stage of woe?
Why not release him? why not close his eyes,
So vainly melting o'er his country lost?
Ten years are fled; the morning I have hail'd
In sighs alone; have laid my head on thorns
Of anguish, nightly visited in dreams
By images of horrour, which employ
Each waking moment. To have seen destroy'd
From their foundations my paternal streets,
The holy structures burn, a people forc'd
In climates new and barbarons to dwell,
Was sure enough to suffer-it is time

To give my patience rest." The plaintive sound
Draws on th' Athenian, who perceives a gleam,
Pale quiv'ring o'er a solitary lamp;
Perceives a rev'rend sire, resembling Time,
Down to whose girdle hangs the snowy fleece
Of wintry age. Unaw'd his lamp he rais'd;
A dim reflection from the polish'd arms
Reveal'd the warrior, whom he thus bespake:
"Whate'er thou art, if hostile, or a friend,
A god, a mortal, or a phantom vain,

Know, that my state no change can render worse,
All change make better."-" Father," soft replied
Th' advancing chief, "take coinfort, I am come
Thy country's saviour; follow, in the day
See who I am." Between the op'ning band
He leads the senior through the dusky porch,
Whom he accosts before th' unclouded Sun,
Then vertical: "Rest, father, and behold
Themistocles of Athens." While the priest,
So by his fillet sacerdotal known,
In wonder paus'd, th' artificer divine
Of wiles to catch the sudden turns of chance,
Frames in a momentary cast of thought
This bright device of fiction to allure
A holy mind. "O worthy of the god!
Thou servant pure of Jupiter! I mourn,
Like thee, Eretria, not like thee despond,
Attend, thou righteous votary to Heav'n!
I, from the day of Salamis o'ertoil'd,
While courting slumber, in a vision saw
The sapient issue of th' almighty sire,
His best belov'd Minerva. Still the sound
Of her gorgonian shield my ears retain,
While earnest, striking on its rim her spear,
The virgin warrior spake: Triumphant son
Of Neocles, remember in thy joy
The miseries of others. Go, redeem
Eretria fall'n, whose noble remnant arm'd
Sev'n ships; exhausting all their slender stores,
To fight for Athens on this glorious day'."

As from the sooty gate of direful Dis
Deliver'd Theseus, when to cheering day
He reascended, on Alcides look'd,
Who for his lov'd companion pierc'd the gloom
Of Erebus; th' Eretrian's grateful eyes
Thus on the son of Neocles were fix'd,
In ecstasy of joy. These fervent words
He utter'd: "Heav'n hath given thee to destroy
Presumptuous foes, O favour'd by the gods!
Who give thee now to save despairing friends;
That, all-rejoicing in thy trophies new,
Great as thou art, thy gen'rous soul may prove,
How far beyond the transports conquest yields,
Are those resulting from benignant deeds.
More grateful, chief, is Charity's sweet voice,
Than Fame's shrill trumpet, in the ear of Jove,
Who will, on such humanity as thine,
Accumulate his blessings. If my name
Thou ne'er hast heard, or, hearing, hast forgot,
Know, that from lib'ral Cleobulus sprung,
I am Tisander." Interrupting swift,

Th' Athenian here: "Thy own, thy father's name,
To me, illustrious pontiff, well are known.
My recent banner in the summer's gale
Thou must remember on th' Eretrian coast.
Eretrian warriors under Cleon's charge,
In ships by me supply'd, undaunted fought
At Artemisium, and an earnest gave

Of their late prowess. From their chief, from all
Thy celebrating countrymen, I heard

[tears'

Alas! how few

Of thee, Tisander, and thy name retain;
Proceed." To him the priest: "Flow first my
Of that brave band whatever now remains
Have nought but prowess left.
Escap'd thy fell, exterminating hand,
When treachery surrender'd to thy pow'r,
Darius! Sons of husbandry lay hid

In woods and caverns; of the nobler class
Some on the main were absent. Priest of Jove
I was releas'd; a pious, beardless prince,
Nam'd Hyperanthus, on my rank and years
Look'd with compassion; living, I extol,
My dying breath shall bless him. I have dwelt
Within my temple, mourning o'er this waste.
Here, annually collected (lo! the day
Of that sévere solemnity is nigh)

Th' unhappy relics of Eretrian blood
Accompany my tears. Thou knowst, they sail'd
At thy appointment, on Athenian decks,
They and the men of Styra from that port
For Salamis. In glory they return'd

To want and horrour, desert found their land,
Their crops, their future sustenance destroy'd,
Their huts consum'd, their cattle swept away,
Their progeny, their wives; flagitious act
Of Demonax, in Oreus late replac'd,
Her tyrant foul, a slave to Xerxes' throne,
His scourge in rich Euboea, half-reduc'd
To this dire monster's sway, by royal aid
Of endless treasure, and barbarian bands.
Such is our state. Too scanty are the means
Of willing Styra to relieve such wants;
Our wealthier neighbours of Carystus vend,
Not give; in hoarded grain, in flocks and herds
Abounding, them a sordid chief controls,
Nicomachus. An oligarchy rules
Gereæstus small, but opulent-O Jove!
I see brave Cleon yonder; from his head
He rends the hair-what gestures of distress!
He beats his troubled bosom, wrings his hands!
Not heeding great Themistocles, he points
On me alone a wild distracted look!
Say, Cleon."......Swift, with shiv'ring lips and pale,
Th' Eretrian leader, interrupting, vents
His tortur'd thoughts: "Tisander, can thy pray'rs
Repel grim famine, rushing on the blast
Of barren winter? Three disastrous days
Will lay the combatants for Grecce in dust,
Behind them leaving nothing but a name
For Salamis to publish. Lo! they come,
A dying people, suppliant to repose
Within thy fane their flesh-divested bones:
Yet such a tomb, their fainting voices cry,
May those Eretrians envy who are doom'd
To lodge their captive limbs in Asia's mould."
He ends in sighs. Behold, a ghastly troop
Slow through the ruins of their native streets
In languid pace advance! So gath'ring shoals
Of ghosts from hour to hour through endless time,
The unrelenting eye of Charon views,

By sickness, plague, and famine, by the sword,
Or heart-corroding sorrow, sent from light
To pass the black irremeable floods
Of Styx. Cecropia's hero cast a look
Like Phoebus heav'nly-gentle, when, aton'd,
Th' infections air he clear'd, awak'ning gales
To breathe salubrious o'er th' enfeebled host
Of Agamemnon, as from death they rose
Yet to assert their glory. Swift the chief
Bespake Sicinus: "Haste, unlade the ships;