Se

begin their march to Thebes. Eriphyle, by the acceptance of a present from Argia, lays her husband under an obligation of joining the confederates. Parthenopaus elopes during his mother's absence, and heads the Arcadian troops. She follows him, but to no effect. The priestess of Bacchus, inspired with a spirit of divination, runs up and down the city, and foretels the death of the two Theban princes, with the usurpation of the kingdom by Creon. veral prodigies happen. At length, Eteocles, alarmed at the invasion of his territories, consults with Tiresias the prophet, concerning the fate of the war. They go through a course of necromancy, and conjure up the spirit of Laius, whose ambiguous answer determines them to oppose the invaders in a hostile manner. Bacchus in his return from Thrace, meets the Argives in their route to Thebes. He leads them out of their way, and persuades the nymphs to dry up all the rivers and fountains under their care. The allies, half dead with thirst, are met by a Lemnian princess, who informs them of the river Langia, and conducts them thither. They offer up a prayer to the tutelar genius of the river, which concludes the book.

10.

THRICE had Hyperion either tropic view'd,
The winter banish'd, and the spring renew'd;
When now the sprightly trumpet from alar
Gave the dread signal of approaching war.
When fierce Bellona, sent by Jove's command,
(The torch of discord blazing in her hand)
Bar'd her red arm from fair Larissa's height,
And whirl'd her spear, a prelude to the fight.
Whizzing it cleaves the skies: near Dirce's source
A rising hillock bounds its furious course.
Thence to the glitt'ring camp the goddess flies,
And darts from rank to rank her ardent eyes:
She strokes the steeds, and arms the warriors' hands,
The truly brave prevent her stern commands,
And e'en the coward loaths the thought of flight,
And feels a short-liv'd ardour for the fight.
The destin'd day serenely shone above,
And first a victim falls to Mars and Jove,
The trembling priest a cheerful aspect wears,
Nor to th' inquiring troops imparts his fears. 20
Meanwhile their friends indulge a parting view,
And press around to share the last adieu.
No bounds the gushing stream of sorrow knows;
From rank to rank the soft contagion grows:
Each pregnant eye unwonted currents pours,
Their bucklers intercept the falling show'rs.
Some through their heims a fervent kiss impart,
And nature triumphs o'er each soften'd heart.
No more the thirst of war and vengeance burns,
But exil'd tenderness in all returns.
Thus when, the storm appeas'd, a rising breeze
Invites the mariner to tempt the seas,
Their weeping friends the parting crew detain,
And for a while subsides the love of gain.

30

The poet has exerted himself in a very eminent degree at the opening of this book. He awakens the reader's curiosity, and sounds an alarm to the approaching conflict. The influence of discord over the brave man and the coward is finely distinguished, and contributes to heighten the majesty of this description.

With streaming eyes, and hand fast lock'd in hand,
They put off fate, and linger on the strand.
But, when the vessel cleaves the yielding deep,
The mourners posted on some neighb'ring steep,
With eager eyes pursue the less'ning sails,
And curse the driving impulse of the gales. 40
Assist, O Fame! in whose immortal page
The glorious toils of ev'ry distant age
Recorded shine; to whose all-seeing eyes
Nor Heav'n, or Earth, or Hell impervious lies.
And thou, Calliope, deriv'd from Jove,
Whose music warbles in th' Aonian grove,
From whom alone heroic ardour springs,
Be present, and awake the trembling strings:
Relate, what chiefs, in quest of warlike fame,
50
And fir'd by Mars, to aid Adrastus came.
Surcharg'd with troubles, and a length of years,
Encircled by his host, the king appears.
A sword alone for ornament he wore,
His slaves behind the pond'rons armour bore.
Beneath the gate his fiery coursers stand;
And, while the groom divides with artful hand
His flowing mane, reluctant to the car
Arion bounds, and hopes the promis'd war.
For him Larissa arms her martial pow'rs,
And fair Prosymna grae'd with rising tow'rs. 60

41. Assist, O Fame] It is hard to conceive any address more solemn, any opening to a subject more noble and magnificent than this invocation. The hint of it is taken from Homer, though the invocation itself is varied, as may be seen from comparing them together.

Εσπετε νῦν μοι Μέσαι ὀλύμπια δώματ' ἔχεσαι
(Υμεῖς γὰρ διαί εσε παρεσί τε, ἴσέ τε πάντων
Ημεῖ δὲ κλέβω ὅσον ἀκνομεν εδέ τι ἴόμεν.)
Οίτινες ἡγεμόν ες Δαναῶν, καὶ κοίρανος ή στεν
Πληθύν δ' ἐκ αν έγω μυθησομαι, εδ' ὀνομήνω,
Ουδ' εί μοι δέκα μὲν γλῶσσαι, δέκα δὲ σόματ' εἶεν
Φωνη δ' ἀρρηκτο, χάλκεον δέ μοι ἦτορ ἐνείη,
El μà 'Onoptiádes pecai, Diòs alylóy aro
Θυγατέρες, μνησαίαθ ̓ ὅσοι ὑπὸ Ιλιον ήλθον.
Virgil has imitated it, but with little success.
Pandite nunc Helicona, deæ, cantusque movete:
Qui bello exciti reges: quæ quemque secutæ
Complerint campos acies; quibus Itala jam tum
Floruerit terra alma viris, quibus arserit armis.
Et meministis enim, divæ, et memorare potestis:
Ad nox vix tenuis famæ perlabitur aura.

Æn. 7. ver. 64.

And Tasso with some improvement.
Mente de gli anni, e del' oblio nemica,
Delle cose custode, e dispensiera,
Vaglia mi tua ragion sì, ch'io ridica

Di quel campo ogni duce, ed ogni schiera.
Suoni, e risplenda la lor fama antica,
Fatta dagli anni omai tacita, e nera:
Tolto da' tuoi tefori orni mia lingua
Cio, ch' ascolti ogni età, nulla l'estingua.
G. c. 1. st. 36.

59. For him Larissa, &c.] I think myself ob liged to make a few observations on the nature of catalogues, as they have been objected to by some literati, who have delivered their critical remarks to the world with some success. To consider it then as purely poetical, (for this is all that merits our notice) we may observe first, what an a'r of probability is spread over the whole poem, by

70

To these the youth of Midea succeed,
And Phyllos, famous for her fleecy breed;
Then fair Cleone sends a valiant train,
And lowly Neris, o'er whose fertile plain
The swift Charadros rolls his rapid flood,
And Thyre, doom'd to float in Spartan blood.
From Drepanos, for snowy cliffs renown'd,
And Sicyon, with groves of olives crown'd,
A troop of grateful warriors bend their way,
Where once Adrastus held the regal sway,
Where slow Langia bathes the silent shores,
And, winding in his course, Elissos roars.
Here oft repair from Pluto's gloomy courts
The sister-furies (ancient fame reports)
While, bending o'er the brink, the serpents slake
Their thirst, and of the grateful stream partake.
But, whether these o'erturn'd the Theban state,
Or at Mycena kindled stern debate,
Elissos flies from the detested brood,
Such venom stains the surface of his flood.
From Ephyre a tide of warriors flows,
Who kindly bore a part in Ino's woes,
Where to the hoofs of the Gorgonean horse
A springing fountain owes its mystic source,
And the firm isthmus hears on either side
The diff'rent murmurs of the rushing tide.
From hence attend Adrastus to the fray
Three thousand warriors rang'd in bright array.
From distant lands they sought the field of faine,
Varying in manners, origin, and name.
Some knotty clubs, in fire attemper'd, bear,
While some dismiss the quiv'ring lance in air.
These ply the sounding sling with fatal art,
Aud rival e'en the Parthian's venom'd dart.
Amid the throng Adrastus takes his way,
Rever'd for age, but more for gentle sway.
Thus some old bull, the monarch of the meads,
His subject herd around the pasture leads.

this war.

80

90

Qualis frugifero quercus sublimis in agro Exuvias veteres populi, sacrataque gestans Dona ducum: nec jam validis radicibus hærens, Pondere fixa suo est: nudosque per aëra ramos

100

110

Though, spent with age, and long disus'd to fight,
His reign depends on antiquated might,
The youthful steers, without reluctance, yield
Their share of sway, nor dare dispute the field:
Such furrows on his breast, and graceful scars
Appear, the monuments of former wars.
The Theban hero, full of youthful fire,
Rode in the rank, and next his aged sire.
Beneath his standard rang'd, a valiant band
From fair Boeotia threat their native land.
Some, still impress'd with sentiments of love,
And loyalty, to fight his battles move:
While others prone to change, and to repine,
In quest of novelty, his army join.
Yet more: three wealthy cities own his sway,
And, from the father's gift, the son obey;
Whose youths embodied might increase his host,
And be some solace for his empire lost.
Such was his habit, and the same his arms,
As when he first beheld Argia's charms.
A lion's spoils across his back he wore,
And in his hand two beamy javelins bore.
The sphinx, pourtray'd, his deathful falchion grac'd,
A golden sheath the shining blade encas'd.
His mother, sisters, all that once were dear,
Rush to his thoughts, and force a tender tear.
In prospect he surveys the reign his own,
And swells on an imaginary throne.
Meanwhile, Argia from a neighb'ring tow'r,
Recalls his eyes from visionary pow'r;
The dearer object scorns an equal part

120

With Thebes, and claims an undivided heart. 130
Next joyful Tydeus joins the marching host
With troops collected on Ætolia's coast.
The trumpet sounds: he trembles with delight,
And pants, and starts, impatient for the fight.
So shines, renew'd in youthful pride, the snake,
When spring recalls him from the thorny brake,
He views with scorn the vain attacks of age,
Now rising on his spires he braves the day,
And glows, and stiffens with collected rage.
And glitters with the Sun's reflected ray:
Or, by the fatal aid of kindred green,
Amidst the grassy verdure lurks unseen.
Hapless the swain! whom near him fortune draws,
When flaming thirst dilates his venom'd jaws.
Pylene's warriors in his cause engage,
And Pleuron, conscious of Althea's rage;
They pour from Caledon's impending steep,
From Chalcis, beaten by the rolling deep,
And Olenos which boasts the birth of Jove,

Nor yields in fame to Cretan Ida's grove.

140

150

135. So shines, renew'd] This is taken from Virgil's Æneid, book 2.

Qualis ubi in lucem coluber, mala gramina pastus, Frigida sub terrâ tumidum quem bruma tegebat, Nunc positis novus exuviis, nitidusque juventâ, Lubrica convolvit sublato pectore terga Arduus ad solem, et linguis micat ore trisulcis. I think Statius (as every imitator should do) has improved on his original. His language is more elevated than Virgil's, and he has manifestly the advantage in inserting the two last lines, as they reflect the highest honour on Tydeus.

160

170

From Achelous some direct their course,
A stream still mindful of Herculean force.
No more, emerging from his pearly bed,
Above th' encircling waves he rears his head,
But, lurking in his azure caves, deplores
His dusty margin and exhausted shores.
A troop, selected for his guard, surrounds
The chief, distain'd with honourable wounds.
They twine young sallows to support the shield,
And in each hand a pointed javelin wield.
Mars, imag'd on their glitt'ring helms, inspires
Unwearied rage and unextinguish'd fires.
Such was the Theban's, such th' Ætolian's rage,
'Twas doubtful in whose cause the chiefs engage.
Beneath a youth, as yet unknown to fame,
The Doric troops, a num'rous army, came,
With those who labour where Lyrceus leads
His copious stream along the fertile meads;
Or till with care the hoarse-resounding shores,
Where Inachus, the king of rivers, roars.
Of all, that o'er Argia bend their course,
He reigns, excell'd by none in rapid force,
When Taurus, and the wat'ry Pleiades rise,
And Jove in kindly show'rs deserts the skies.
To these succeed, whom swift Asterion laves,
And Frasine enfolds with ambient waves;
Whom Epidaure's impervious walls surround,
And Dyme, with the gifts of Bacchus crown'd.
Of Pylian youths a martial squadron came,
Tho' Pylos then could boast of little fame;
And Nestor, blooming in his second age,
Declin'd the charge, and check'd his youthful rage.
Hippomedon, their hardy chief, inspires
The love of war, and with example fires.
A triple crest bis dazzling helmet grac'd,
An iron coat of mail his sides embrac'd.
A golden cuirass blazes on his breast,
With all the guilt of Danaus exprest:
The Furies light, with inauspicious hands,
The bridal torch, and tie the nuptial bands:
Their sire each instrument of wrath supplies,
And views the treach'rous swords with curious eyes.
The graceful hero rein'd a gen'rous steed,
New to the fight, and of Nemæan breed.
From earth emerging, clouds of dust arise
Beneath their rapid course, and veil the skies.
So, when Hyleus from some mountain's height,
Or hollow cliff, precipitates his flight,

180

190

200

210

The bending forests to the shock give way,
Stretch'd in long ruin, and expos'd to day.
The trembling cattle headlong seek the ground,
And Ossa shudders at the distant sound.
With horrour e'en his shaggy brethren hear
The rushing monster, nor dismiss their fear;
While Peneus' waves, suspended in their course,
Roll backward, hopeless to withstand his force.
Who to describe their numbers can aspire,
Or equal martial with Phobean fire?
The great Alcides drains Tyrinthe's coast
Of all her youths, to form a scanty host.
Tyrinthe still the sword with glory wields,
And warriors worthy of her patron yields;
But love of glory, and a wealthy soil,
Have made them more averse to martial toil.
Few human footsteps in the fields descry'd,
The curious traveller scarce finds a guide,
To lead him where the moss-grown turret stands,
And walls, the labour of Ætnean hands.
Yet hence three hundred youths to fight repair,
Nor swords, nor sounding slings employ their care:
Each show'd, like Hercules, in savage pride, 231
And on his shoulders wore a lion's hide.
Their spear a trunk of pine, a quiver hung
Behind, and clatter'd as they march'd along.
They sing a Pæan in their patron's praise,
And in sonorous verse his labours raise.
With joy the god from shaded Oeta's height
Hears his immortal feats, and varied fight.
From Nemea next a social squadron came,
And where Molorchus, crown'd with endless fame,
Receiv'd the warrior, spent with recent toils, 251
And loaded with the monster's reeking spoils.
The straw-built mansion, and adjacent field,
With art are imag'd on each brazen shield,
The sacred oak reported to sustain

His bow unstrung, and where he press'd the plain.
But Capaneus, averse to guide the car,

240

On foot o'erlook'd the plain, and moving war.
A shield he bore with four thick folds o'ereast
Of tough bull-hides, of solid brass the last.
Here Vulcan frees the hydra's vital breath,
And opes each secret avenue to death;
The concave snakes, in silver carv'd, enfold,
While others seem to burn in mimic gold.
Around its iron margin Lerna leads
Her azure stream, and mingles with the meads.

version, however short it falls of the original, may be sufficient to show there was an endeavour at least to imitate it.

218. The labour of Ætnean hands] Tyrinthe is reported to have been built by the Cyclops.

237. But Capaneus] The poet ushers in Capaneus with abundance of pomp: his strength, his size, his tower-like shield, in a word, his whole figure strikes our eyes in all the strongest colours of poetry. He forces him on the observation of the reader by the grandeur of his description; and raises our expectations of him, intending to make him perform many remarkable actions in the sequel of the poem, and to become worthy of falling by the hand of Jove himself. This anecdote concerning his spear is taken from Homer, and in tended to raise the idea of his hero, by giving him such as no other could wield.

Awhile a suppliant to the gods I'll mourn,

His shining breast-plate was a mingled mass Of ductile gold, and rows of mountain-brass. Dreadful it gleam'd around: no female art Could to the pond'rous metal form impart. A giant on his helmet frowns imprest, And triple were the honours of his crest. His cypress-spear with steel encircled shone, Not to be pois'd but by his hands alone. Ithome's mountaineers beneath his care, And the Messenians to the fight repair; Where Thrion, and the craggy Apy show Their cliffs above, and Pteleon's walls below. From Helos, famous for her gen'rous race Of steeds, and Dorion, for the bard's disgrace, They rush.-Here Thamyris in singing strove 261 To match the tuneful progeny of Jove: Unskill'd to judge the future by the past, He prov'd the Muse's matchless pow'r at last. To silence doom'd, no more he durst aspire To raise his voice, or string the vanquish'd lyre. Constrain'd by threats, or with entreaties won, The prophet seeks the fate he cannot shun. Nor yet was prescience wanting to the deed, Full well he saw what destiny decreed: But Phoebus, hopeless to prolong his date, Withholds his succour, and assents to fate. Yet more unmindful of the late portent, His spouse accelerates the dire event, And, swell'd with pride and vain ambition, sold Her husband's life for all-hewitching goid. Argia saw the matron's guilty views, And that the Fates forbad her to refuse; Then unrepining, from her snowy breast

270

She loos'd the gift, and thus her will exprest. 280
"These woeful times far other cares require
Than thos of costly dress and rich attire.
No more shall art enhance Argia's charms,
While her dear consort sheaths his limbs in arms;
Awhile without reluctance I resign
Those trifles, since for him alone I shine:
Awhile the arts of Pallas shall employ
The pensive hours, and sorrow be my joy.

249. No female art] Statius alludes here to a custom among the ancient heathens, of mothers making this species of armour for their sons.

261. Here Thamyris] I am surprised, that Statius, who generally strikes out of the common track, should be such a plagiary as to relate this after Homer; and more so, that he was so diffident of his own abilities as to copy it so closely. The words are nearly the same.

Δώριον, ἔνθα τε Μέσαι Αντόμεναι, Θάμυριν τον Θρηίκα παῦσαν ἀοιδῆς, Ορχαλίηθεν ἰόντα παρ Ευρύτε Οἰχαλια. Στεῦτο γὰρ εὐχόμενΘ νικησέμεν, είπερ αν αὐταὶ Μέσαι α εἴδοιεν, κάραι Διὸς αἰγιόχοιο. Αιδε χολωσάμεναι, πηρὸν θέσαν, αὐτὰρ ἀοιδὴν Θεσπεσίην αφιλονίο, καὶ ἐκλελαθον κίθαριςών· Lib. 2. v. 101. catal.

286. Since for him] This conduct of Argia, how ever laudable it is in itself, would be esteemed an unnecessary act of politeness by our modern belles, who are generally careless and indifferent how they appear at home, but never think themselves sufficiently decorated for the public view, as if their husbands had the least claim to their care of their persons and dress. But methinks it is highly indiscreet in them to lose the good graces of their husbands in hopes of extending their conquests;

VOL. XX.

If this will gain her husband's social aid."
Hence treason, murder, frenzy, all the woes
That shook the augur's guilty dome, arose.
Tisiphone with secret pleasure smiles
At her ripe project, and successful wiles.
Four rapid coursers grace the prophet's car,
Of heav'nly race, and thunder thro' the war.
From Leda's son he stole the matchless breed
By mortal mares, unequal to the steed.
Parnassian wreaths upon his forehead shone,
And by his habit was the prophet known.
Green olive-leaves his glitt'ring helm enclose,
And from between his crests a mitre rose.
A grove of spears his better hand sustains,
His other moderates the flowing reins.
Afar he shines, conspicuous in the field,
And waves the Python imag'd on his shield.
A troop of Pylian youths surround his car,
And Amyclæans, partners in the war.
From Malea's noted shore a squadron came,
And Caria, sacred to Diana's name;
From fair Eurotas, crown'd with olive-groves,
And Messe, famous for her silver doves.
Him, as their chief, a hardy race attend,
Whom Taygetus and hilly Pharis send :
Cyllenius trains them in the dusty field
To war, and breathes a soul untaught to yield.
Hence they no cares for this frail being feel,
But rush undaunted on the pointed steel.
The parents glory in their offspring's death,
And urge them to resign their vital breath:
Of all that crowd around the fun'ral pile,
The mother is observ'd alone to smile.

300

310

320

A pair of javelins arms their better hand,
The reins and stubborn steed the left demand. 330
Bare are their shoulders; floating from behind
A shaggy tunic dances in the wind.
The swan resigns the honours of his breast,
To grace their helms, and form a rising crest.
Nor did these march alone beneath his care,
But social Elis adds an equal share.
Alpheus next affords his Pisa's aid,

Who seeks thro' seas the lov'd Sicilian maid.
Their chariots hide the plain. Their horses feel,
Instead of spurs, the dart and pointed steel. 340
From horrid rites their present skill arose,
And to an impious source its progress owes:
as it would be deemed folly in a king to go in
quest of new countries, before he had secured
to himself the possession of those already ac-
quired.

315. From Malea's] Malea was a promontory of Peloponnesus, noted for its dangerous rocks: it is situated between the bays of Argos and Laconia, and is now called Capo Malio di Santo Angelo.

337. So Lucan.

—populisque per æquora mittens Sicaniis Alpheus aquas. Book 3. ver. 176., 341. From horrid rites] For an account of this custom, and Oenomaus, see note on the first book, verse 382.

RK

What time Ocnomaus, from his car o'erthrown,
Resigned at once his life, his fame and crown.
Their coursers champ the bit, or paw the ground,
And scatter clouds of smoke and foam around.
Parthenopæus next, by stealth repairs
To Argos, and eludes his mother's cares.

347. Parthenopæus] Tasso seems to have copied his account of Rinaldo's flight from this of Parthenopaus.

All'or (nè pur tre lustri avea finiti)

Fuggi soletto, e corse strade ignote; Varcò l'Egeo, passò di Grecia i liti, Giunse nel campo in region remote; Nobilissima fuga, e che l' imiti

Ben degna alcun magnanimo nipote. Tre anni son, ch'è in guerra, e intempestiva Molle piuma del mento à pena usciva. Canto 1. As we have now seen the seven heroes armed and accoutred for battle, it will be worth while to take a critical review of them, and see how the poet has acquitted himself in the description. Though I cannot answer for the different tastes of readers, yet I flatter myself with the hopes of their approbation, with respect to the author. The chief beauty here is variety, without which all the subaltern decorations of imagery, diction, and numbers, are entirely lost, as they are common to other parts of the poem. To discover this in his characters, we need only to review them distinctly; and we shall find that of Adrastus to be no other than we can expect in a man of his years and inclinations. Exclusive of the cares for his people, old age naturally creates an aversion to war, as it is so diametrically opposite to their summum bonum, tranquillity.Polynices, though by no means a coward, seems to like the war no farther than as it is conducive to his interest, and the nstrument of gratifying his ambition. The love of glory, abstracted from that of empire, seems to have but little influence over him; but, when united with it, inspirits him to the highest degrce of beroism. Tydeus, subject as he seems to be to the impressions of glory and fame, confides more in the justice of his cause, than any other motive. As he has no personal interest in the war, his in clination to it must arise either from the thirst of glory or desire of revenge: as to the first, we may conclude, from the whole tenour of his conduct, that it could not engage him in supporting injustice, since his attachment to Polynices was owing to his love of the opposite virtue: the desire of revenge then is the prevailing motive; but only so far as it is founded on an honourable basis, and resulting, as I have before observed, from the justice of the cause. Hippomedon and Parthenopæns are represented as two daring youths, who had no personal prejudices against the Thebans, nor lay under any obligations to the court of Argos; their sole inducements were the love of glory, and study of war, under so experienced a general as Adrastus. The warlike disposition of Capaneus arises rather from a principle of inhumanity. He is a mere homicide, and satiable by blood and carnage only. His behaviour to Amphiaraus, however palliated with the specious pretence of friendship to Tydeus, is arrogant, impious, and inhuman: his consciousness of superior valour makes him proud; his pride, impa

As yet a beardless youth, the troops be led, 349 And shone in arms, conspicuous at their head. Chance aids his flight: for while the matrua roves Thro' distant tracts of land, and shadowy groves, The daring youth, impell'd by adverse fates, O'erleap'd the wall, and forc'd the palace-gates.. In form and feature ev'ry son of fame Resigned the prize, nor durst dispute his claim. Nor had his courage, and desert in arms

370

Been deem'd inferior to his outward charms,
But death o'ertook him, cre the rip'ring sun
Of manhood on his budding strength had shone.
His beauty fir'd each guardian of the grove, 361
The gods with envy, and the nymphs with love.
Fame tells, Diana, when she first survey'd
The little wanton sporting in the shade,
Forgave his mother's flame, and broken vow,
And grac'd him with a quiver and a bow.
He springs, impatient for the mix'd alarms
Of shrilling clarions, and resounding arms,
And burns to mingle in the dusty course
Of crimson war, and curb a captive horse.
No more he joys to range the guiltless wood
With arrows, innocent of human blood.
Above the rest he shines in flaming gold,
And Tyrian purple, glorious to behold.
His mother's combats in the Ætolian field
He bears engrav'd upon his slender shield.
A quiver, fraught with Gnossian shafts, he bore,
Of amber fram'd, with jaspers studded o'er,
A lynx's spotted hide adorns his steed,
Which match'd the stag or western wind in speed.
With pride he bounds beneath th' unwonted load
Of gleaming armour, fit to grace a God.
His master smiles: the roses on his cheek,
And youthful bloom his tender age bespeak.
To him th' Arcadian youths with joy resign
The chief command, and clad in armour shine.
Fame says, from op'ning trees they took their birth,
When human footsteps scal'd the new-born earth;
And flourish'd ere revolving Cynthia shone,
Or devious planets gleam'd around her throne.
No houses then repell'd the driving rain,
Nor Ceres glitter'd on the yellow plain;
No temples lodg'd the sculptur'd form of Jove,
Nor Hymen sanctified the flames of love.
Oft did the pregnant oak its sides unclose,
Nor ask'd Lucina's band to ease its throes,

379

391

tient of reproof; and his impatience of reproof hurries him on to impiety and cruelty. The last who offers himself to our view, is Amphiaraus, a chief of a meek, dispassionate temper, who nata rally prefers the sweets of peace to the hurry and fatigue of a military life. He was told that bis fate was inevitable; and, in consequence of this prediction, puts a good face on it, and marches to battle with a philosophic calmness and resiguation to the divine will.

387. Fame says] Evander gives a similar account of those Arcadians, who planted a colony in Italy.

Gensque virûm truncis et duro robore nata: [tauros, Aut componere opes norant, aut parcere parto. Queis neque mos, neque cultus erat: nec jungere

And Ovid mentions their antiquity.

Encid

Ante Jovem genitum terras habuisse feruntur Arcades, et Lunâ gens prior illa fuit.