"Wilt thou, in Lacedæmon once supreme, Encounter twenty Persians? Yet these Greeks In greater disproportion must engage Our host to morrow." Demaratus then. "By single combat were the trial vain To show the pow'r of well-united force, Which oft by military skill surmounts
The weight of numbers. Prince, the diff'rence learn Between thy warriors and the sons of Greece. The flow'r, the safeguard of thy num'rous camp Are mercenaries. These are canton'd round Thy provinces. No fertile field demands Their painful hand to break the fallow glebe. Them to the noon-day toil no harvest calls. Nor on the mountain falls the stubborn oak By their laborious axe. Their watchful eyes Observe not how the flocks and heifers feed. To them of wealth, of all possessions void, The name of country with an empty sound Flies o'er the ear, nor warms their joyless hearts, Who share no country. Needy, yet in scorn Rejecting labour, wretched by their wants, Yet profligate through indolence, with limbs Enervated and soft, with minds corrupt, From misery, debauchery, and sloth, Are these to battle drawn against a foe, Train'd in gymnastic exercise and arms, Inur'd to hardship, and the child of toil,
The satraps leave their cars. On foot they form A splendid orb around their lord. By chance The Spartans then compos'd th' external guard. They, in a martial exercise employ'd, Heed not the monarch, or his gaudy train; -But poise the spear, protended, as in fight; Or lift their adverse shields in single strife; Or, trooping, forward rush, retreat and wheel In ranks unbroken, and with equal feet: - While others calm beneath their polish'd helms Draw down their hair, whose length of sable curls O'erspread their necks with terrour. Xerxes here The exile questions." What do these intend, Who with assiduous hands adjust their hair?"
To whom the Spartan. "O imperial lord, Such is their custom, to adorn their heads, When full determin'd to encounter death. Bring down thy nations in resplendent steel; Arm, if thou canst, the gen'ral race of man, All, who possess the regions unexplor'd Beyond the Ganges, all, whose wand'ring steps Above the Caspian range the Scythian wild With those, who drink the secret fount of Nile: Yet to Laconian bosoms shall dismay Remain a stranger." Fervour from his lips Thus breaks aloud; when, gushing from his eyes, Resistless grief o'erflows his cheeks.
His head he turns. He weeps in copious streams.
Wont through the freezing show'r, the wintry storm The keen remembrance of his former state,
O'er his own glebe the tardy ox to goad, Or in the Sun's impetuous heat to glow Beneath the burden of his yellow sheaves; Whence on himself, on her, whose faithful arms Infold him joyful, on a growing race, Which glad his dwelling, plenty he bestows With independence. When to battle call'd, For them his dearest comfort, and his care, And for the harvest promis'd to his toil, He lifts the shield, nor shuns unequal force. Such are the troops of ev'ry state in Greece. One only yields a breed more warlike still, Of whom selected bands appear in sight, All citizens of Sparta. They the glebe Have never turn'd, nor bound the golden sheaf. They are devoted to severer tasks For war alone, their sole delight and care. From infancy to manhood they are train'd
To winter watches, to inclement skies,
His dignity, his greatness, and the sight Of those brave ranks, which thus unshaken stood, And spread amazement through the world in arms, Excite these sorrows. His impassion'd looks Review the godlike warriors, who beneath His standard once victorious fought, who call'd Him once their king, their leader; then again, O'ercharg'd with anguish, he bedews with tears His rev'rend beard, in agony bemoans His faded honours, his illustrious name Forgotten long, his majesty defil'd By exile, by dependence. So obscur'd By sordid moss, and ivy's creeping leaf, Some princely palace, or stupendous fane, Maguificent in ruin nods; where Time From under shelving architraves hath mow'd The column down, and cleft the pond'rous dome. Not unobserv'd by Hyperanthes, mourr.'d Th' unhappy Spartan. Kindly in his own
To plunge through torrents, brave the tuský boar, He press'd the exile's hand, and thus humane.
To arms and wounds; a discipline of pain So fierce, so constant, that to them a camp With all its hardships is a seat of rest, And war itself remission from their toil."
"Thy words are folly," with redoubled scorn Returns the monarch. "Doth not freedom dwell Among the Spartans? Therefore will they shun Superior foes. The unrestrain'd and free Will fly from danger; while my vassals, born To absolute controlment from their king, Know, if th' allotted station they desert, The scourge awaits them, and my heavy wrath." To this the exile. "O conceive not, prince, That Spartans want an object, where to fix Their eyes in rev'rence, in obedient dread. To them more awful, than the name of king To Asia's trembling millions, is the LAW; Whose sacred voice enjoins them to confront Unnumber'd foes, to vanquish, or to die."
Here Demaratus pauses. Xerxes halts. Its long defile Thermopyla presents.
"O Demaratus, in this grief I see, How just thy praises of Laconia's state. Though cherish'd here with universal love, Thou still deplor'st thy absence from her face Howe'er averse to thine. But swift relief From indignation borrow. Call to mind Thy injuries. Th' auspicious fortune bless, Which led thee far from calumny and fraud, To peace, to honour in the Persian court." As Demaratus with a grateful mind His answer was preparing, Persia's king Stern interrupted. "Soon as morning shines, Do you, Tigranes and Phraortes, head The Medes and Cissians. Bring these Greciana bound."
This said, the monarch to his camp returns. Th' attendant princes reascend their cars, Save Hyperanthes, by the Carian queen Detain'd, who thus began. Impartial, brave Nurs'd in a court, yet virtuous, let my heart To thee its feelings undisguis'd reveal.
Thou hear'st thy royal brother. He demands These Grecians bound. Why stops his mandate
Why not command the mountains to remove, Or sink to level plains. Yon Spartans view, Their weighty arms, their countenance. My gratitude instructs me in the cause Of our imperial master. To succeed Is not within the shadow of my hopes At this dire pass. What evil genius sways? Tigranes, false Argestes, and the rest In name a council, ceaseless have oppos'd My dictates, oft repeated in despite Of purpled flatt'rers, to embark a force, Which, pouring on Laconia, might confine These sons of valour to their own defence. Vain are my words. The royal ear admits Their sound alone; while adulation's notes In syren sweetness penetrate his heart, There lodge ensnaring mischief." In a sigh, To her the prince. "O faithful to thy lord, Discreet adviser, and in action firm, What can I answer? My afflicted soul Must seek its refuge in a feeble hope, Thou mayst be partial to thy Doric race, Mayst magnify our danger. Let me hope, Whate'er the danger, if extreme, believe That Hyperanthes for his prince can bleed, Not with less zeal than Spartans for their laws." They separate. To Xerxes he repairs. The queen, surrounded by the Carian guard, Stays and retraces with sagacious ken The destin'd field of war, the vary'd space, Its depth, its confines both of hill and sea. Meantime a scene more splendid hath allur'd Her son's attention. His transported sight With ecstasy, like worship, long pursues The pomp of Xerxes in retreat, the throne, Which show'd their idol to the nations round, The bounding steeds, caparison'd in gold, The plumes, the chariots, standards. He excites Her care, express'd in these pathetic strains.
"Look on the king with gratitude. His sire Protected thine. Himself upholds our state.. By loyalty inflexible repay
The obligation. To immortal pow'rs The adoration of thy soul confine;
And look undazzled on the pomp of man, Most weak when highest. Then the jealous gods Watch to supplant him. They his paths, his courts, His chambers fill with flatt'ry's pois'nous swarms, Whose honey'd bane, by kingly pride devour'd, Consumes the health of kingdoms." Here the boy By an attention, which surpass'd his years, Unlocks her inmost bosom. "Thrice accurs'd Be those," th' indignant heroine pursues, "Those, who have tempted their imperial lord To that prepost'rous arrogance, which cast Chains in the deep to manacle the waves, Chastis'd with stripes in Heav'n's offended sight The Hellespont, and fondly now demands The Spartans bound. O child, my soul's delight, Train'd by my care to equitable sway, And imitation of the gods by deeds To merit their protection, heed my voice. They, who alone can tame, or swell the floods, Compose the winds, or guide their strong career, O'erwhelming human greatness, will confound Such vanity in mortals. On our fleet Their indignation hath already fall'n.
Perhaps our boasted army is prepar'd A prey for death, to vindicate their pow'r." This said, a curious search in ev'ry part Her eye renews. Adjoining to the straits, Fresh bloom'd a thicket of entwining shrubs, A seeming fence to some sequester'd ground, By travellers unbeaten. Swift her guards Address'd their spears to part the pliant boughs. Held back, they yield a passage to the queen, And princely boy. Delicious to their sight Soft dales, meand'ring, show their flow'ry laps Among rude piles of Nature. In their sides Of rock are mansions hewn; nor loaden trees Of cluster'd fruit are wanting: but no sound, Except of brooks in murmur, and the song Of winged warblers, meets the list'ning ear. No grazing herd, no flock, nor human form Is seen, no careful husband at his toil, Beside her threshold no industrious wife, No playful child. Instructive to her son The princess then. 66 Already these abodes Are desolate. Once happy in their homes, Th' inhabitants forsake them. Pleasing scene Of Nature's bounty, soon will savage Mars Deform the lovely ringlets of thy shrubs, And coarsely pluck thy violated fruits Unripe; will deafen with his clangour fell Thy tuneful choirs. I mourn thy destin'd spoil, Yet come thy first despoiler. Captains, plant, Ere morning breaks, my secret standard here. Come, boy, away. Thy safety will I trust To Demaratus; while thy mother tries With these her martial followers, what sparks, Left by our Doric fathers, yet inflame Their sons and daughters in a stern debate With other Dorians, who have never breath'd The soft'ning gales of Asia, never bow'd In forc'd allegiance to barbarian thrones. Thou heed my order. Those ingenuous looks Of discontent suppress. For thee this fight Were too severe a lesson. Thou mightst bleed Among the thousands, fated to expire By Sparta's lance. Let Artemisia die, Ye all-disposing rulers, but protect Her son." She ceas'd. The lioness, who reigns Queen of the forest, terrible in strength, And prone to fury, thus, by Nature taught, Melts o'er her young in blandishment and love. Now slowly tow'rds the Persian camp her steps In silence she directed; when a voice, Sent from a rock, accessible which seem'd To none but feather'd passengers of air, By this reproof detain'd her. Art thou, to Greece by Doric blood ally'd? Com'st thou to lay her fruitful meadows waste, Thou homager of tyrants?" Upward gaz'd Th' astonish'd princess. Lo! a female shape, Tall and majestic, from th' impendent ridge Look'd awful down. A holy fillet bound Her graceful hair, loose flowing. Seldom wept Great Artemisia. Now a springing tear Between her eyelids gleam'd. "Too true," she sigh'd,
"A homager of tyrants! Voice austere, And presence half-divine!" Again the voice.
"O Artemisia, hide thy Doric sword. Let no barbarian tyrant through thy might, Thy counsels, valiant as thou art and wise, Consume the holy fanes, deface the tombs, Subvert the laws of Greece, ber sons enthrall"
The queen made no reply. Her breast-plate | Where not five warriors in a rank can tread. The tremulous attire of cov'ring mail [heav'd. Confess'd her struggle. She at length exclaim'd. “Olympian thund'rer, from thy neighb'ring hill Of sacred oaths remind me!" Then aside She turns to shun that majesty of form, In solemn sounds upbraiding. Torn her thoughts She feels. A painful conflict she endures With recollection of her Doric race; Till gratitude, reviving, arms her breast. Her royal benefactor she recalls, Back to his sight precipitates her steps.
We thence descended to the Phocian camp, Beset with scatter'd oaks, which rose and spread | In height and shade; on whose sustaining boughs Were hung in snowy folds a thousand tents, Containing each a Phocian heavy-mail'd With two light-weapon'd menials. Northward ends The vale, contracted to that narrow strait, Which first we saw with Mycon."-" Prudent care Like yours alleviates mine," well-pleas'd the king Reply'd. "Now, Agis, from Arcadia's bands Select a thousand spears. To them unite The Thespians and Plateans. Draw their lines Beneath the wall, which fortifies the pass. There, close-embody'd, will their might repulse The num'rous foe. Demophilus salute. Approv'd in martial service him I name The chief supreme." Obedient to his will Th' appointed warriors, issuing from the tents,
Fill their deep files, and watch the bigh command. So round their monarch in his stormy hall The winds assemble. From his dusky throne His dreadful mandates Eolus proclaims
Or bend the forest from the mountain's brow. Laconia's leader from the rampart's height To battle thus the list'ning host inflames.
Leonidas, rising by break of day, hears the intelli-To swell the main, or Heav'n with clouds deform, gence, which Agis and Melibus bring from the upper pass, then commands a body of Arcadians with the Platæans and Thespians, to be drawn out for battle, under the conduct of Demophilus, in that part of Thermopyla, which lies close to the Phocian wall, from whence he harangues them. The enemy approaches. Diomedon kills Tigranes in single combat. Both armies join battle. Dithyrambus kills Phraortes. The Persians, entirely defeated, are pursued by Demophilus to the extremity of the pass. The Arcadians, inconsiderately advancing beyond it, fall into an ambush, which Artemisia had laid to cover the retreat of the Persians. She kills Clonius, but is herself repulsed by Demophilus. Diomedon and Dithyrambus give chase to her broken forces over the plains in the sight of Persia's camp, whence she receives no assistance. She rallies a small body, and, facing the enemy, disables Dithyrambus by a blow ou his helmet. This puts the Grecians into some confusion, and gives her an opportunity of preserving the remainder of her Carians by a timely retreat. She gains the camp, accuses Argestes of treachery, but, pacified by Demaratus, is accompanied by him with a thousand horse to collect the dead bodies of her soldiers for sepulchre.
AURORA dawn'd. Leonidas arose. With Melibus, Agis, now return'd, Address'd the king. "Along the mountain's side We bent our journey. On our way a voice Loud from a crag on Melibons call'd.
He look'd and answer'd. Mycon, ancient friend! Far hast thou driv'n thy bearded train to day; But fortunate thy presence. None like thee, Inhabitant of Eta from thy birth,
Can furnish that intelligence, which Greece Wants for her safety.' Mycon show'd a track. We mounted high. The summit, where we stopp'd, Gave to the sight a prospect wide o'er hills, O'er dales and forests, rocks, and dashing floods In cataracts. The object of our search Beneath us lay, the secret pass to Greece,
"This day, O Grecians, countrymen and friends, Your wives, your offspring, your paternal seats, Your parents, country, liberty, and laws, Demand your swords. You gen'rous, active, brave, Vers'd in the various discipline of Mars, Are now to grapple with ignoble foes, In war unskilful, Nature's basest dross, And thence a monarch's mercenary slaves. Relax'd their limbs, their spirits are deprav'd By eastern sloth and pleasures. Hire their cause, Their only fruit of victory is spoil. They know not freedom, nor its lib'ral cares. Such is the flow'r of Asia's host. The rest, Who fill her boasted numbers, are a crowd, Fore'd from their homes; a populace in peace By jealous tyranny disarm'd, in war Their tyrant's victims. Taught in passive grief To bear the rapine, cruelty, and spurns Of Xerxes' mercenary band, they pine In servitude to slaves. With terrour sounds The trumpet's clangour in their trembling ears. Unwonted loads, the buckler and the lance Their hands sustain, encumber'd, and present The mockery of war-But ev'ry eye Shoots forth impatient flames. Your gallant breasts Too long their swelling spirit have confin'd. Go then, ye sons of Liberty; go, sweep These bondmen from the field. Resistless rend The glitt'ring standard from their servile grasp. Hurl to the ground their ignominious heads, The warrior's helm profaning. Think, the shades Of your forefathers lift their sacred brows Here to enjoy the glory of their sons."
He spake. Loud paans issue from the Greeks. In fierce reply barbarian shouts ascend From hostile nations, thronging down the pass. Such is the roar of Etna, when his mouth Displodes combustion from his sulph'rous depths To blast the smiles of Nature. Danntles:stood In deep array before the Phocian wall The phalanx, wedg'd with implicated shields, And spears protended, like the graceful range Of arduous elms, whose interwoven boughs
Before some rural palace wide expand Their venerable umbrage to retard
The North's impetuous wing. As o'er the main In lucid rows the rising waves reflect The Sun's effulgence; so the Grecian helms Return'd his light, which o'er their convex pour'd A splendour, scatter'd through the dancing plumes. Down rush the foes. Exulting in their van, Their haughty leader shakes his threat'ning lance, Provoking battle. Instant from his rank Diomedon bursts furious. On he strides, Confronts Tigranes, whom he thus defies.
Declining valour in the van. His lance Then in the rear he brandishes. The crowd Before his threat'ning ire, affrighted, roll Their numbers headlong on the Grecian steel. Thus with his trident ocean's angry god From their vast bottom turns the mighty mass Of waters upward, and o'erwhelms the beach.
Tremendous frown'd the fierce Platæan chief Full in the battle's front. His ample shield Like a strong bulwark prominent he rais'd Before the line. There thunder'd all the storm Of darts and arrows. His undaunted train
"Now art thou met, barbarian. Wouldst thou In emulating ardour charg'd the foe.
Thy actions equal to thy vaunts, command Thy troops to halt, while thou and I engage." Tigranes, turning to the Persians, spake. "My friends and soldiers, check your martial haste, While my strong lance that Grecian's pride confounds."
He ceas'd. In dreadful opposition soon Each combatant advanc'd. Their sinewy hands. Grip'd fast their spears, high-brandish'd. Thrice they drove
With well-directed force the pointed steel
At either's throat, and thrice their wary shields Repell'd the menac'd wound. The Asian chief At length, with pow'rs collected for the stroke, His weapon rivets in the Grecian targe. Aside Diomedon inclines, and shuns Approaching fate; then all his martial skill Undaunted summons. His forsaken spear Beside him cast, his falchion he unsheaths. The blade, descending on Tigranes' arm, That instant struggling to redeem his lance, "The nervous hand dissevers. Pale affright Unmans the Persian; while his active foe Full on his neck discharg'd the rapid sword, Which open'd wide the purple gates of death. Low sinks Tigranes in eternal shade.
His prostrate limbs the conqueror bestrides; Then in a tuft of blood-distilling hair His hand entwining, from the mangled trunk The head disjoins, and whirls with matchless strength Among the adverse legions. All in dread Recoil'd, where'er the ghastly visage flew In sanguine circles, and pursu'd its track Of horrour through the air. Not more amaz'd, A barb'rous nation, whom the cheerful dawn Of science ne'er illumin'd, view on high A meteor, waving its portentous fires; Where oft, as Superstition vainly dreams, Some demon sits amid the baneful blaze, Dispersing plague and desolation round. Awhile the stern Diomedon remain'd Triumphant o'er the dire dismay, which froze The heart of Persia; then with haughty pace In sullen joy among his gladsome friends Resun'd his station. Still the hostile throng In consternation motionless suspend The charge. Their drooping hearts Phraortes warms. "Heav'n! can one leader's fate appal this host, Which counts a train of princes for its chiefs? Behold Phraortes. From Niphates' ridge I draw my subject files. My hardy toil Through pathless woods and deserts hath explor'd The tiger's cavern. This unconquer'd hand Hath from the lion rent his shaggy hide. So through this field of slaughter will I chase You vaunting Greek." His ardent words revive
Where'er they turn'd the formidable spears, Which drench'd the glebe of Marathon in blood, Barbarian dead lay heap'd. Diomedon
Led on the slaughter. From his nodding crest The sable plumes shook terrour. Asia's host Shrunk back, as blasted by the piercing beams Of that unconquerable sword, which fell With lightning's swiftness on dissever'd helms, And, menacing Tigranes' doom to all, Their multitude dispers'd. The furious chief, Encompass'd round by carnage, and besmear'd With sanguine drops, inflames his warlike friends. "O Dithyrambus, let thy deeds this day Surmount their wonted lustre. Thou in arms, Demophilus, worn grey, thy youth recall. Behold, these slaves without resistance bleed. Advance, my hoary friend. Propitious fame Smiles on thy years. She grants thy aged hand To pluck fresh laurels for thy honour'd brow." As, when endu'd with Promethean heat, The molten clay respir'd; a sudden warmth Glows in the venerable Thespian's veins; In ev'ry sinew new-born vigour swells. His falchion, thund'ring on Cherasmes' helm, The forehead cleaves. Ecbatana to war Sent forth Cherasmes. From her potent gates He proud in hope her swarming numbers led. Him Ariazus and Peucestes join'd,
His martial brothers. They attend his fate, By Dithyrambus pierc'd. Their hoary sire Shall o'er his solitary palace roam ; Lamenting loud his childless years, shall curse Ambition's fury, and the lust of war, Then, pining, bow in anguish to the grave.
Next by the fierce Platæan's fatal sword Expir'd Damates, once the host and friend Of fall'n Tigranes. By his side to fight He left his native bands. Of Syrian birth In Daphné he resided near the grove, Whose hospitable laurels in their shade Conceal'd the virgin fugitive averse To young Apollo. Hither she retir'd Far from her parent stream. Here fables feigu Herself a laurel, chang'd her golden hair To verdant leaves in this retreat, the grove Of Daphné call'd, the seat of rural bliss, Fann'd by the breath of Zephyrs, and with rills From bubbling founts irriguous, Syria's boast, The happy rival of Thessalia's vale, Now hid for ever from Damates' eyes.
Demophilus, wise leader, soon improves Advantage. All the vet'rans of his troop, In age his equals, to condense the files, To rivet close their bucklers he commands. As some broad vessel, heavy in her strength, But well-compacted, when a fav'ring gale Invites the skilful master to expand
The sails at large, her slow but steady course Impels through myriads of dividing waves; So, unresisted, through barbarian throngs The hoary phalanx pass'd. Arcadia's sons Pursu'd more swift. Gigantic Clonius press'd The yielding Persians, who before him sunk, Crush'd like vile stubble underneath the steps Of some glad peasant, visiting his fields Of new-shorn harvest. On the gen'ral rout Phraortes look'd intrepid still. He sprang O'er hills of carnage to confront the foe. His own inglorious friends he thus reproach'd. "Fly then, ye cowards, and desert your chief. Yet single here my target shall oppose The shock of thousands." Raging, he impels His deathful point through Aristander's breast. Him Dithyrambus lov'd. A sacred bard, Rever'd for justice, for his verse renown'd, He sung the deeds of heroes, those who fell, Or those who conquer'd in their country's cause, Th' enraptur'd soul inspiring with the love Of glory, earn'd by virtue. His high strain The Muses favour'd from their neighb'ring bow'rs, And bless'd with heav'nly melody his lyre. No more from Thespia shall his feet ascend The shady steep of Helicon; no more The stream divine of Aganippe's fount Bedew his lip harmonious: nor his hands, Which, dying, grasp the unforsaken lance, And prostrate buckler, ever more accord His lofty numbers to the sounding shell. Lo! Dithyrambus weeps. Amid the rage Of war and conquest swiftly-gushing tears Find one sad moment's interval to fall On his pale friend. His stern revenge.
But soon the victor proves Through shield and corselet
His forceful blade divides the Persian's chest; Whence issue streams of royal blood, deriv'd From ancestors, who sway'd in Ninus old Th' Assyrian sceptre. He, to Xerxes' throne A tributary satrap, rul'd the vales, Where Tigris swift between the parted hills Of tall Niphates drew his foamy tide, Impregnating the meads. Phraortes sinks, Not instantly expiring. Still his eyes Flash indignation, while the Persians fly.
Beyond the Malian entrance of the straits Th' Arcadians rush; when, unperceiv'd till felt, Spring from concealment in a thicket deep New swarms of warriors, clustring on the flank Of these unwary Grecians. Tow'rds the bay They shrink. They totter on the fearful edge, Which overhangs a precipice. Surpris'd, The strength of Clonius fails. His giant bulk Beneath the chieftain of th' assailing band Falls prostrate. Thespians and Plateans wave Auxiliar ensigns. They encounter foes, Resembling Greeks in discipline and arms. Dire is the shock. What less, than Caria's queen In their career of victory could check Such warriors? Fierce she struggles; while the rout Of Medes and Cissians carry to the camp Contagious terrour: thence no succour flows. Demophilus stands firm; the Carian band At length recoil before him. Keen pursuit He leaves to other, like th' almighty Sire, Who sits unshaken on his throne, while floods, His instruments of wrath, o'erwhelm the Earth, And whirlwinds level on her hills the growth
Of proudest cedars. Through the yielding crowd Platæa's chief and Dithyrambus range Triumphant side by side. Thus o'er the field, Where bright Alpheus heard the rattling car And concave hoof along his echoing banks, Two gen'rous coursers, link'd in mutual reins, In speed, in ardour equal, beat the dust To reach the glories of Olympia's goal. Th' intrepid heroes on the plain advance, Not long the queen They press the Carian rear. Endures that shame. Her people's dying groans Transpierce her bosom. On their bleeding limbs. She looks maternal, feels maternal pangs. A troop she rallies. Goddess-like she turns, Not less than Pallas with her Gorgon shield. Whole ranks she covers like th' imperial bird Extending o'er a nest of callow young
Her pinion broad, and pointing fierce her beak, Her claws outstretch'd. The Thespian's ardent hand, From common lives refraining, hastes to snatch More splendid laurels from that nobler bead. His pond'rous falchion, swift descending, bears Her buckler down, thence glancing, cuts the thong, Which holds her headpiece fast. That golden fence Drops down. Thick tresses, unconfin'd, disclose A female warrior; one, whose summer pride Of fleeting beauty had begun to fade, Yet by th' heroic character supply'd, Which grew more awful, as the touch of time Remov'd the soft'ning graces. Back he steps, Unmann'd by wonder. With indignaut eyes, Fire-darting, she advances. Both her hands Full on his crest discharge the furious blade. The forceful blow compels him to recede Yet further back, unwounded, though confus'd. His soldiers flock around him. From a scene Of blood more distant speeds Platea's chief. The fair occasion of suspended fight
She seizes, bright in glory wheels away,
And saves her Carian remnant. While his friend In fervent sounds-Diomedon bespake.
"If thou art slain, I curse this glorious day. Be all thy trophies, be my own accurs'd."
The youth, recover'd, answers in a smile. "I am unhurt. The weighty blow proclaim'd The queen of Caria, or Bellona's arm. Our longer stay Demophilus may blame. Let us prevent his call." This said, their steps They turn, both striding through empurpled heaps Of arms, and mangled slain, themselves with gore Distain'd like two grim tigers, who have forc'd A nightly mansion, on the desert rais'd By some lone-wand'ring traveller, then, dy'd In human crimson, through the forest deep Back to their covert's dreary gloom retire.
Stern Artemisia, sweeping o'er the field, Bursts into Asia's camp. A furious look She casts around. Abrocomes remote With Hyperanthes from the king were sent. She sees Argestes in that quarter chief, Who from battalions numberless had spar'd Not one to succour, but his malice gorg'd With her distress. Her anger now augments. Revenge frowns gloomy on her darken'd brow. He cautious moves to Xerxes, where he sat High on his car. She follows. Lost her helm, Resign'd to sportive winds her cluster'd locks, Wild, but majestic like the waving boughs Of some proud elm, the glory of the grove, And full in foliage. Her emblazon'd shield
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