To wrest from me. One recompense I ask, And one alone. Transport to Asia's camp This bleeding princess. Bid the Persian king Weep o'er this flow'r, untimely cut in bloom. Then say, th' all-judging pow'rs have thus ordain'd. Thou, whose ambition o'er the groaning Earth Leads desolation; o'er the nations spreads Calamity and tears; thou first shalt mourn, And through thy house destruction first shall range." Dismiss'd, they gain the rampart, where on guard
Was Dithyrambus posted. He perceiv'd
The mournful bier approach. To him the fate Of Ariana was already told.
He met the captives, with a moisten'd eye, Full bent on Teribazus, sigh'd and spake.
"O that, assuming with those Grecian arms A Grecian spirit, thou in scorn hadst look'd On princes! Worth like thine, from slavish courts Withdrawn, had ne'er been wasted to support A king's injustice. Then a gentler lot
Had bless'd thy life, or, dying, thou hadst known How sweet is death for liberty. A Greek Affords these friendly wishes, though his head Had lost the honours gather'd from thy fall, When fortune favour'd, or propitious Jove Smil'd on the better cause. Ill-fated pair, Whom in compassion's purest dew I lave, But that my hand infix'd the deathful wound, And must be grievous to your loathing shades, From all the neighb'ring valleys would I cull Their fairest growth to strew your hearse with flow'rs.
Yet, O accept these tears and pious pray'rs ! May peace surround your ashes! May your shades Pass o'er the silent pool to happier seats!"
He ceas'd in tears. The captives leave the wall, And slowly down Thermopyla proceed.
arrive at Thermopyla the next morning; upon. which Leonidas offers to send away all the troops except his three hundred Spartans; but Diomedon, Demophilus, Dithyrambus, and Megistias refuse to depart: then to relieve the perplexity of Medon on this occasion, he transfers to him the supreme command, dismisses Argestes, orders the companions of his own fate to be ready in arms by sunset, and retires to his pavilion.
THE Grecian leaders, from the counsel ris'n, Among the troops dispersing, by their words, Their looks undaunted, warm the coldest heart Against new dangers threat'ning. To his tent The Locrian captains Medon swift convenes, Exhorting thus. "O long-approv'd my friends, You, who have seen my father in the field Triumphant, bold assistants of my arm In labours not inglorious, who this day Have rais'd fresh trophies, be prepar'd. If help Be further wanted in the Phocian camp, You will the next be summon'd. Locris lies To ravage first expos'd. Your ancient fane, Your goddesses, your priestess half-ador'd, The daughter of Oileus, from your swords Protection claim against an impious foe."
All anxious for Melissa, he dismiss'd Th' applauding vet'rans; to the sacred cave Then hasten'd. Under Heav'n's night-shaded cope He mus'd. Melissa in her holy place How to approach with inauspicious steps, How to accost, his pensive mind revolv'd: When Mycon, pious vassal of the fane, Descending through the cavern, at the sight Of Medon stopp'd, and thus. Thy presence, lord, The priestess calls. To Lacedæmon's king I bear a message, suff'ring no delay.”
He quits the chief, whose rapid feet ascend, Soon ent'ring where the pedestal displays Thy form, Calliopè sublime. The lyre, Whose accents immortality confer, Thy fingers seem to wake. On either side, The snowy gloss of Parian marble shows Four of thy sisters through surrounding shade. Before each image is a virgin plac'd. Before each virgin dimly burns a lamp, Whose livid spires just temper with a gleam The dead obscurity of night. Apart The priestess thoughtful sits. Thus Medon breaks The solemn silence. "Anxious for thy state, Without a summons to thy pure abode I was approaching. Deities, who know The present, pass'd, and future, let my lips, Unblam'd, have utt'rance. Thou, my sister, bear. Thy breast let wisdom strengthen. İmpious foes Through Œta now are passing." She replies.
Medon convenes the Locrian commanders, and harangues them; repairs at midnight to his sister Melissa in the temple, and receives from her the first intelligence, that the Persians were in actual possession of the upper straits, which had been abandoned by the Phocians. Melibous brings her tidings of her father's death. She strictly enjoins her brother to preserve his life by a timely retreat, and recommends the enforcement of her advice to the prudence and zeal of Melibus. In the morning the bodies of Teribazus and Ariana are brought into the presence of Xerxes, soon after a report had reached the camp, that great part of his navy was shipwrecked. The Persian monarch, quite dispirited, is persuaded by Argestes to send an ambas-To Phocians left, and penetrates to Greece. sador to the Spartan king. Argestes himself is Him Mycon following, by a hostile band, deputed, who, after revealing his embassy in | Light-arm'd forerunners of a num'rous host, secret to Leonidas, is by him led before the Was seiz'd. By fear of menac'd torments forc'd, whole army, and there receives his answer. He show'd a passage up that mountain's side, Alpheus returns, and declares, that the enemy Whose length of wood o'ershades the Phocian land was master of the passages in the hills, and would | To dry and sapless trunks in diff'rent parts
"Are passing, brother! They, alas! are pass'd, Are in possession of the upper strait. Hear in thy turn. A dire narration hear. A favour'd goat, conductor of my herd, Stray'd to a dale, whose outlet is the post
Fire, by the Persians artfully apply'd, Soon grew to flames. This done, the troop return'd, Detaining Mycon. Now the mountain blaz'd. The Phocians, ill-commanded, left their post, Alarm'd, confus'd. More distant ground they chose. In blind delusion forming there, they spread Their ineffectual banners to repell Imagin'd peril from those fraudful lights, By stratagem prepar'd. A real foe Meantime secur'd the undefended pass. This Mycon saw. Escaping thence to me, He by my orders hastens to inform Leonidas."
She paus'd. Like one who sees The forked light'ning into shivers rive A knotted oak, or crumble tow'rs to dust, Aghast was Medon; then, recov'ring, spake. "Thou boasted glory of th' Oïlean house, If e'er thy brother bow'd in rev'rence due To thy superior virtues, let his voice
Be now regarded. From th' endanger'd fane, My sister, fly. Whatever be my lot, A troop select of Locrians shall transport Thy sacred person where thy will ordains." "Think not of me," returns the dame.To Greece
Direct thy zeal. My peasants are conven'd, That by their labour, when the fatal hour Requires, with massy fragments I may bar That cave to human entrance. Best belov'd Of brothers, now a serious ear incline. Awhile in Greece to Fortune's wanton gale His golden banner shall the Persian king, Deluded, wave. Leonidas, by death Preserving Sparta, will his spirit leave To blast the glitt'ring pageant. Medon, live To share that glory. Thee to perish here No law, no oracle enjoins. To die, Uncall'd, is blameful. Let thy pious hand Secure Oileus from barbarian force. To Sparta, mindful of her noble host,
Entrust his rev'rend head." Th' assembled hinds, Youths, maidens, wives with nurselings at their breasts,
Around her now in consternation stood, The women weeping, mute, aghast the men. To them she turns. "You never, faithful race, Your priestess shall forsake. Melissa here, Despairing never of the public weal, For better days in solitude shall wait, Shall cheer your sadness. My prophetic soul Sees through time's cloud the liberty of Greece More stable, more effulgent. In his blood Leonidas cements th' unshaken base Of that strong tow'r, which Athens shall exalt To cast a shadow o'er the eastern world."
This utter'd, tow'rd the temple's inmost seat Of sanctity her solemn step she bends, Devout, enraptur'd. In their dark'ning lamps The pallid flames are fainting. Dim through mists The morning peeps. An awful silence reigns. While Medon pensive from the fane descends, But instant reappears. Treads Melibous, through the cavern's mouth Ascending pale in aspect, not unlike What legends tell of spectres, by the force Of necromantic sorcery constrain'd; [join'd, Through Earth's dark bowels, which the spell dis- They from Death's mansion in reluctant sloth Rose to divulge the secrets of their graves, Or mysteries of Fate. His cheerful brow,
O'erclouded, paleness on his healthful cheek, A dull, unwonted heaviness of pace Portend disast'rous tidings. Medon spake.
"Turn, holy sister. By the gods belov'd, May they sustain thee in this mournful hour. Our father, good Oileus, is no more." "Rehearse thy tidings, swain." He takes the word. "Thou wast not present, when his mind, out- stretch'd
By zeal for Greece, transported by his joy To entertain Leonidas, refus'd
Due rest. Old age his ardour had forgot, To his last waking moment with his guest In rapturous talk redundant. He at last, Compos'd and smiling in th' embrace of sleep, To Pan's protection at the island fane Was left. He wak'd no more. The fatal news, To you discover'd, from the chiefs I hide." Melissa heard, inclin'd her forehead low Before th' insculptur'd deities. A sigh Broke from her heart, these accents from her lips. "The full of days and honours through the gate Of painless slumber is retir'd, His tomb Shall stand among his fathers in the shade Of his own trophies. Placid were his days, Which flow'd through blessings. As a river pure, Whose sides are flow'ry, and whose meadows fair, Meets in his course a subterranean void; There dips his silver head, again to rise, And, rising, glide through flow'rs and meadows new So shall Oïleus in those happier fields, Where never tempests roar, nor humid clouds In mists dissolve, nor white-descending flakes Of winter violate th' eternal green; Where never gloom of trouble shades the mind, Nor gust of passion heaves the quiet breast, Nor dews of grief are sprinkled. Thou art gone, Host of divine Leonidas on Earth,
Art gone before him to prepare the feast, Immortalizing virtue." Silent here, Around her head she wraps her hallow'd pall. Her prudent virgins interpose a hymn, Not in a plaintive, but majestic flow,
To which their fingers, sweeping o'er the chords, The lyre's full tone attemper. She unveils, Then with a voice, a countenance compos'd.
"Go, Medon, pillar of th' Oïlean house, New cares, new duties claim thy precious life. Perform the pious obsequies. Let tears, Let groans be absent from the sacred dust, Which Heav'n in life so favour'd, more in death. A term of righteous days, an envy'd urn Like his, for Medon is Melissa's pray'r. Thou, Melibus, cordial, high in rank Among the prudent, warn and watch thy lord. My benediction shall reward thy zeal."
Sooth'd by the blessings of such perfect lips, They both depart. And now the climbing Sun To Xerxes' tent discover'd from afar
The Persian captives with their mournful load." Before them Rumour through her sable trump Breathes lamentation. Horrour lends his voice To spread the tidings of disastrous fate Along Spercheos. As a vapour black, Which, from the distant, horizontal verge Ascending, nearer still and nearer bends To higher lands its progress, there condens'd Throws darkness o'er the valleys, while the face. Of Nature saddens round; so step by step, In motion slow th' advancing bier diffus'd
A solemn sadness o'er the camp. A hedge Of trembling spears on either hand is form❜d. Tears underneath his iron-pointed cone The Sacian drops. The Caspian savage feels His heart transpierc'd, and wonders at the pain. In Xerxes' presence are the bodies plac'd, Nor he forbids. His agitated breast All night had weigh'd against his future hopes His present losses, his defeated ranks, By myriads thinn'd, their multitude abash'd, His fleet thrice worsted, torn by storms, reduc'd To half its number. When he slept, in dreams He saw the haggard dead, which floated round Th' adjoining strands. Disasters new their ghosts In sullen frowns, in shrill upbraidings bode. Thus, ere the gory bier approach'd his eyes, He in dejection had already lost
His kingly pride, the parent of disdain, And cold indifference to human woes. Not ev'n beside his sister's nobler corse Her humble lover could awake his scorn. The captives told their piercing tale. He heard; He felt awhile compassion. But ere long Those traces vanish'd from the tyrant's breast. His former gloom redoubles. For himself His anxious bosom heaves, oppress'd by fear Lest he with all his splendour should be cast A prey to Fortune. Thoughtful near the throne Laconia's exile waits, to whom the king.
"O Demaratus, what will Fate ordain? Lo! Fortune turns against me. What shall check Her further malice, when her daring stride Invades my house with ravage, and profanes The blood of great Darius. I have sent From my unguarded side the chosen band, My bravest chiefs, to pass the desert hill; Have to the conduct of a Malian spy My hopes entrusted. May not there the Greeks, In opposition more tremendous still, More ruinous than yester Sun beheld, Maintain their post invincible, renew Their stony thunder in augmented rage, And send whole quarries down the craggy steeps Again to crush my army? Oh! unfold Thy secret thoughts, nor hide the harshest truth. Say, what remains to hope?" The exile here.
Too well, O monarch, do thy fears presage, What may befall thy army. If the Greeks, Arrang'd within Thermopyla, a pass Accessible and practis'd, could repel With such destruction their unnumber'd foes; What scones of havoc may untrodden paths, Confin'd among the craggy hills, afford?"
Lost in despair, the monarch silent sat. Not less unmann'd than Xerxes, from his place Uprose Argestes; but eoncealing fear, These artful words deliver'd. "If the king Propitious wills to spare his faithful bands, Nor spread at large the terrours of his pow'r; More gentle means of conquest than by arms, Nor less secure, may artifice supply. Renown'd Darius, thy immortal sire, Bright in the spoi! of kingdoms, long in vain The fields of proud Euphrates with his host O'erspread. At length, confiding in the wiles Of Zopyrus, the mighty prince subdu'd The Babylonian ramparts. Who shall count The thrones and states, by stratagem o'erturn'd ? But if Corruption join her pow'rful aid,
Not one can stand. What race of men possess
That probity, that wisdom, which the veil Of craft shall never blind, nor proffer'd wealth, Nor splendid pow'r seduce? O Xerxes, born To more than mortal greatness, canst thou find Through thy unbounded sway no dazzling gift, Which may allure Leonidas? Dispel The cloud of sadness from those sacred eyes. Great monarch, proffer to Laconia's chief, What may thy own magnificence declare, And win his friendship. O'er his native Greece Invest him sov'reign. Thus procure his sword For thy succeeding conquests." Xerxes here, As from a trance awak'ning, swift replies.
"Wise are thy dictates. Fly to Sparta's chief, Argestes, fall before him. Bid him join My arms, and reign o'er ev'ry Grecian state."
He scarce had finish'd, when in haste approach'd Artuchus. Startled at the ghastly stage Of death, that guardian of the Persian fair Thus in a groan. "Thou deity malign,
O Arimanius, what a bitter draught For my sad lips thy cruelty hath mix'd! Is this the flow'r of women, to my charge So lately giv'n? Oh! princess, I have rang'd The whole Sperchean valley, woods, and caves, In quest of thee, found here a lifeless corse. Astonishment and horrour lock my tongue."
Pride now, reviving in the monarch's breast, Dispell'd his black despondency awhile, With gall more black effacing from his heart Each merciful impression. Stern he spake.
"Remove her, satrap, to the female train. Let them the due solemnities perform. But never she, by Mithra's light I swear, Shall sleep in Susa with her kindred dust; Who by ignoble passions hath debas'd The blood of Xerxes. Greece beheld her shame; Let Greece behold her tomb. The low-born slave Who dar'd to Xerxes' sister lift his hopes,
On some bare crag expose." The Spartan here. My royal patron, let me speak-and die, If such thy will. This cold, disfigur'd clay Was late thy soldier, gallantly who fought, Who nobly perish'd, long the dearest friend Of Hyperanthes, hazarding his life Now in thy cause. O'er Persians thou dost reign; None more, than Persians, venerate the brave."
"Well hath he spoke," Atruchus firm subjoins. "But if the king his rigour will inflict
On this dead warrior-Heav'n o'erlook the deed, Nor on our heads accumulate fresh woes! The shatter'd fleet, th' intimidated camp, The band select, through Eta's dang'rous wilds At this dread crisis struggling, must obtain Support from Heav'n, or Asia's glory falls." Fell pride, recoiling at these awful words In Xerxes' frozen bosom, yields to fear, Resuming there the sway. He grants the corse To Demaratus. Forth Artuchus moves Behind the bier, uplifted by his train.
Argestes, parted from his master's side, Ascends a car; and, speeding o'er the beach, Sees Artemisia. She the ashes pale Of slaughter'd Carians, on the pyre consum'd, Was then collecting for the fun'ral vase In exclamation thus. "My subjects, lost On Earth, descend to happier climes below- The fawning, dastard counsellors, who left Your worth deserted in the hour of need, May kites disfigure, may the wolf devour-
Shade of my husband, thou salute in smiles These gallant warriors, faithful once to thee, Nor less to me. They tidings will report Of Artemisia to revive thy love— May wretches like Argestes never clasp Their wives, their offspring! Never greet their homes! May their unbury'd limbs dismiss their ghosts To wail for ever on the banks of Styx!" Then, turning tow`rd her son.
tuous boy, Let us transport these relics of our friends To yon tall bark, in pendent sable clad. They, if her keel be destin'd to return, Shall in paternal monuments repose. Let us embark. Till Xerxes shuts his ear To false Argestes; in her vessel hid, Shall Artemisia's gratitude lament Her bounteous sov'reign's fate. Leander, mark. The Doric virtues are not eastern plants. Them foster still within thy gen'rous breast, But keep in covert from the blaze of courts; Where flatt'ry's guile in oily words profuse, In action tardy, o'er th' ingenuous tongue, The arm of valour, and the faithful heart, Will ever triumph. Yet my soul enjoys Her own presage, that Destiny reserves An hour for my revenge." Concluding here, She gains the fleet. Argestes sweeps along On rapid wheels from Artemisia's view, Like Night, protectress foul of heinous deeds, With treason, rape, and murder at her heel, Before the eye of Morn retreating swift
To hide her loathsome visage. Soon he reach'd Thermopyla; descending from his car, Was led by Dithyrambus to the tent Of Sparta's ruler. Since the fatal news By Mycon late deliver'd, he apart With Polydorus had consulted long On high attempts; and, now sequester'd, sat To ruminate on vengeance. At his feet Prone fell the satrap, and began. "The will Of Xerxes bends me prostrate to the earth Before thy presence. Great and matchless chief, Thus says the lord of Asia. Join my arms; Thy recompense is Greece. Her fruitful plains, Her gen'rous steeds, her flocks, her num'rous towns, Her sons I render to thy sov'reign hand.' And, O illustrious warrior, heed my words. Think on the bliss of royalty, the pomp
Of courts, their endless pleasures, trains of slaves, Who restless watch for thee, and thy delights: Think on the glories of unrivall'd sway. Look on th' Ionic, on th' Folian Greeks. From them their phantom liberty is flown; While in each province, rais'd by Xerxes' pow'r, Some favour'd chief presides; exalted state, Ne'er giv'n by envions freedom. On his head He bears the gorgeous diadem; he sees His equals once in adoration stoop Beneath his footstool. What superior beams Will from thy temples blaze, when gen'ral Greece, In noblest states abounding, calls thee lord, Thee only worthy, How will each rejoice Around thy throne, and hail th' auspicious day, When thou, distinguish'd by the Persian king, Didst in thy sway consenting nations bless, Didst calm the fury of unsparing war, Which else had delug'd all with blood and flames." Leonidas replies not, but commands
The Thespian youth, still watchful near the tent,
To summon all the Grecians. He obeys. The king uprises from his seat, and bids The Persian follow. He, amaz'd, attends, Surrounded soon by each assembling band; When thus at length the godlike Spartan spake. "Here, Persian, tell thy embassy. Repeat, That to obtain my friendship Asia's prince To me hath proffer'd sov'reignty o'er Greece. Then view these bands, whose valour shall preserve That Greece unconquer'd, which your king bestows; Shall strew your bodies on her crimson'd plains: The indignation painted ou their looks, Their gen'rous scorn, may answer for their chief. Yet from Leonidas, thou wretch, inur'd To vassalage and baseness, hear. The pomp, The arts of pleasure in despotic courts I spurn abhorrent. In a spotless heart I look for pleasure. I from righteous deeds Derive my splendour. No adoring crowd, No purpled slaves, no mercenary spears My state embarrass. I in Sparta rule By laws, my rulers, with a guard unknown To Xerxes,-public confidence and love. No pale suspicion of th' empoison'd bowl, Th' assassin's poniard, or provok'd revolt Chase from my decent couch the peace, deny'd To his resplendent canopy. Thy king, Who hath profan'd by proffer'd bribes my ear, Dares not to meet my arm. Thee, trembling slave, Whose embassy was treason, I despise,
And therefore spare." Diomedon subjoins.
"Our marble temples these barbarians waste, A crime less impious than a bare attempt Of sacrilege on virtue. Grant my suit, Thou living temple, where the goddess dwells, To me consign the caitiff. Soon the winds Shall parch his limbs on Eta's tallest pine." Amidst his fury suddenly return'd The speed of Alpheus. All, suspended, fix'd On him their eyes impatient. He began. I am return'd a messenger of ill. Close to the passage, op'ning into Greece, That post committed to the Phocian guard, O'erhangs a bushy cliff. A station there Behind the shrubs by dead of night I took, Though not in darkness. Purple was the face Of Heav'n. Beneath my feet the valleys glow'd. A range immense of wood-invested hills, The boundaries of Greece, were clad in flames; An act of revard chance, or crafty foes To cast dismay. The crackling pines I heard; Their branches sparkled, and the thickets blaz'd. In hillocks embers rose. Embody'd fire, As from unnumber'd furnaces, I saw Mount high, through vacant trunks of headless oaks,
Broad-bas'd, and dry with age. Barbarian helms, Shields, javelins, sabres, gleaming from below, Full soon discover'd to my tortur'd sight The straits in Persia's pow'r. The Phocian chief, Whate'er the cause, relinquishing his post, Was to a neighb'ring eminence remov'd; There, by the foe neglected, or contemn'd, Remain'd in arms, and neither fled, nor fought. I stay'd for day-spring. Then the Persians mov'd, To morrow's sun will see their numbers here." He said no more. Unutterable fear In horrid silence wraps the list'ning crowd, Aghast, confounded. Silent are the chiefs, Who feel no terrour; yet in wonder fix'd,
Thick-wedg'd, enclose Leonidas around, Who thus in calmest elocution spake.
"I now behold the oracle fulfill'd. Then art thou near, thou glorious, sacred hour, Which shalt my country's liberty secure. Thrice hail thou solemn period. Thee the tongues Of virtue, fame, and freedom shall proclaim, Shall celebrate in ages yet unborn. Thou godlike offspring of a godlike sire, To him my kindest greetings, Medon, bear. Farewell, Megistias, holy friend and brave. Thou too, experienc'd, venerable chief, Demophilus, farewell. Farewell to thee, Invincible Diomedon, to thee,
Unequall'd Dithyrambus, and to all,
Ye other dauntless warriors, who may claim Praise from my lips, and friendship from my heart. You, after all the wonders which your swords Have here accomplish'd, will enrich your names By fresh renown. Your valour must complete What ours begins. Here first th' astonish'd foe On dying Spartans shall with terrour gaze, And tremble, while he conquers. Then, by Fate Led from his dreadful victory to meet United Greece in phalanx o'er the plain, By your avenging spears himself shall fall."
Forth from the assembly strides Platæa's chief. "By the twelve gods, enthron'd in Heav'n supreme; By my fair name, unsully'd yet, I swear, Thine eye, Leonidas, shall ne'er behold Diomedon forsake thee. First let strength Desert my limbs, and fortitude my heart. Did I not face the Marathonian war? Have I not seen Thermopyla? What more Can fame bestow, which I should wait to share? Where can I, living, purchase brighter praise Than dying here? What more illustrious tomb Can I obtain than, bury'd in the heaps Of Persians, fall'n my victims, on this rock To lie distinguish'd by a thousand wounds?" He ended; when Demophilus. "O king Of Lacedæmon, pride of human race, Whom none e'er equall'd but the seed of Jove, Thy own forefather, number'd with the gods, Lo! I am old. With falt'ring steps I tread The prone descent of years. My country claim'd My youth, my ripeness. Feeble age but yields An empty name of service. What remains For me, unequal to the winged speed
Thy gen'rous thoughts. Decided is thy choice. Come then, attendauts on a godlike shade, When to th' Elysian ancestry of Greece Descends her great protector, we will show To Harmatides an illustrious son,
And no unworthy brother. We will link Our shields together. We will press the ground, Still undivided in the arms of death.
So if th' attentive traveller we draw
To our cold relics, wond'ring, shall he trace The diff'rent scene, then pregnant with applause, 'O wise old man,' exclaim, 'the hour of fate Well didst thou choose; and, O unequall'd youth, Who for thy country didst thy bloom devote, May'st thou remain for ever dear to fame! May time rejoice to name thee! O'er thy urn May everlasting peace her pinion spread'."
This said, the hero with his lifted shield His face o'ershades; he drops a secret tear: Not this a tear of anguish, but deriv'd From fond affection, grown mature with time, Awak'd a manly tenderness alone, Unmix'd with pity, or with vain regret.
A stream of duty, gratitude, and love, Flow'd from the heart of Harmatides' son, Addressing straight Leonidas, whose looks Declar'd unspeakable applause. "O king Of Lacedæmon, now distribute praise From thy accustom'd justice, small to me, To him a portion large. His guardian care, His kind instruction, his example train'd My infancy, my youth. From him I learn'd To live, unspotted. Could I less, than learn From him to die with honour." Medon hears. Shook by a whirlwind of contending thoughts Strong heaves his manly bosom, under awe Of wise Melissa, torn by friendship, fir'd By such example high. In dubious state So rolls a vessel, when th' inflated waves Her planks assail, and winds her canvass rend; The rudder labours, and requires a hand Of firm, delib'rate skill. The gen'rous king Perceives the hero's struggle, and prepares To interpose relief; when instant came Dieneces before them. Short he spake.
"Barbarian myriads through the secret pass Have enter'd Greece. Leonidas, by morn Expect them here. My slender force I spar'd. There to have died was useless. We return
Will render more illustrious to ourselves,
And to the foe more terrible our fall."
Of active hours, which court the swife id young? With thee to perish. Union of our strength What eligible wish can wisdom form, But to die well? Demophilus sball close With thee, O hero, on this glorious Earth His eve of life." The youth of Thespia next Address'd Leonidas. "O first of Greeks, Me too think worthy to attend thy fame With this most dear, this venerable man, For ever honour'd from my tend'rest age, Ev'n till on life's extremity we part. Nor too aspiring let my hopes be deem'd; Should the barbarian in his triumph mark My youthful limbs among the gory heaps, Perhaps remembrance may unnerve his arm In future fields of contest with a race, To whom the flow'r, the blooming joys of life, Are less alluring than a noble death." To him bis second parent. "Wilt thou bleed, My Dithyrambus? But I here withhold All counsel from thee, who art wise as brave. I know thy magnanimity. I read
Megistias last accosts Laconia's king.
Thou, whom the gods have chosen to exalt Above mankind in virtue and renown,
O call not me presumptuous, who implore Among these heroes thy regardful ear. To Lacedæmon I a stranger came,
There found protection. There to honours rais'd,
I have not yet the benefit repaid.
That now the gen'rous Spartans may behold In me their large beneficence not vain, Here to their cause I consecrate my breath." "Not so, Megistias," interpos'd the king. Thou and thy son retire." Again the seer. "Forbid it, thou eternally ador'd, O Jove, confirm my persevering soul ! Nor let me these auspicious moments lose, When to my bounteous patrons I may show, That I deserv'd their favour. Thou, my child,
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