This fall, to Greece decisive as to Heav'n Enceladus o'erthrown, when, thunder-pierc'd, He under Ætna's torrid mass was chain'd, Discomfits Asia's hopes. In fresh array Meantime the phalanx, by Pausanias form'd, Proceeds entire. Facility of skill
Directs their weapons; pace by pace they move True to the cadence of accustom'd notes From gentle flutes, which trill the Doric lays Of Aleman and Terpander. Slow they gain The ground, which Persia quits, till Chileus bold With his Tegæans gores the hostile flanks; Confusion then, and gen'ral rout prevail.
The fugitives proclaim Mardonius slain; The whole barbarian multitude disperse In blind dismay; cool Mindarus in vain Attempts to check their flight; all seek the camp; And now the Spartan flutes, combin'd with shouts Of loud Tegæans, stimulate his speed Across the ford. His trenches he regains, And there to Midias, Tiridates brave, And chosen satraps, gath'ring at his call, Thus spake: "The flow'r of Asia in the dust Reclines his glories. Feel your loss like me, Not overcome by sorrow, or surprise At changes natural to man, the sport Of his own passions, aud uncertain chance. Vicissitudes of fortune I have prov'd, One day been foil'd, a conqueror the next. In arduous actions though experienc' minds Have much to fear, not less of hope remains To animate the brave. Amid this storm The throne of Cyrus, your exalted sires, Your own nobility, recall; deserve The rank you hold; occasion now presents For such a trial. To uphold my king, My country's name, and piously revenge My kindred blood new-spilt, my sword, my arm, My life, I destine. Multitude is left, Surpassing twenty myriads; ev'n despair Befriends us; famine threat'ning, and the dread Of merciless resentment in our foes, May force these rally'd numbers to obtain From their own swords relief. Behold your camp, Strong-fenc'd and bulwark'd by Masistian care, A present refuge. See th' auxiliar Greeks Entire, advancing on th' inferior bands Of Athens. Still may Xerxes o'er the west Extend his empire, and regret no part Of this disaster, but Mardonius slain. Assume your posts, for stern defence provide."
O God of light and wisdom! thee the Muse Once more addresses. Thou didst late behold The Salaminian brine with Asian blood Discolour'd. Climbing now the steep ascent To thy meridian, for a stage of war More horrible and vast, thy beaming eye Prepare. Thou over wide Platæa's field, Chang'd to a crimson lake, shall drive thy car, Nor see a pause to havoc, till the West In his dark chambers shuts thy radiant face. Now had the herald, to Cecropia's chief Sent by Pausanias, in his name requir'd Immediate aid. No doubt suspends the haste Of Aristides; who arrays his ranks
With cordial purpose to sustain that strength Of Greece, Laconia's phalanx. Lo! in sight New clouds of battle hov'ring. He discerns Th' array of Leontiades, with wings Of Macedonic and Thessalian horse; Then calls Sicinus: "Friend," he said, "observe; Robust and bold, to perfidy inur'd,
Not less than arms, yon Thebans cross our march. I trust the justice of our cause will foil Them, thrice our number; but events like this Are not in man's disposal. If I fall, Not rashly, good Sicinus, rest assur'd, Themistocles survives. The gate of Greece He guards, Euboea and Thessalia holds, Those granaries of plenty. Eastern shores With all his force, perhaps victorious now, Xanthippus will relinquish, and maintain The sea auxiliar to thy prudent lord; Thus all be well, though Aristides bleeds: This to Themistocles report. But go, Fly to Cleander; him and all the Greeks Rouse from the fane of Juno to the field; Both Spartans and Athenians want their aid. Thy tribe, undaunted Cimon, place behind Olympiodorus; if his active bands
Repel Thessalia's horse, avoid pursuit ; Wheel on the flank of Thebes." Here Delphi's priest:
"Behold Emathia's standards front thy right; With Haliartus, and Oïleus' son,
Let me be station'd there. I trust, the spouse Of Amarantha, at her father's sight, Will sheath a sword involuntary drawn, Nor ties of hospitality and blood Profane to serve barbarians."-" I accept The gen'rous offer, sage and gallant seer," Spake Aristides. "In that wing thy friend, The learn'd and manly Eschylus, presides. But, to thy god appealing, I enjoin Thy rev'rend head to cover in retreat Its unpolluted hairs, should fire of youth, Or yet more strong necessity, impel Thy son to battle." Here th' enraptur'd priest: "The inspiration of my god I feel; A glorious day to Athens I presage, I see her laurels fresh. Apollo joins His sister Pallas to preserve a race, Which all the Muses love. His awful power Will chain the monster parricide, and rouse The Grecian worth in Alexander's heart."
These animated accents fire the line. Within the measure of an arrow's flight Each army now rank'd opposite. A thought Of piety and prudence from his place Mov'd Aristides. Single he advanc'd Between the hosts; offensive arms he left Behind him; ev'n his plumed helm resign'd Gave to his placid looks their lib'ral flow. Before him hung his ample shield alone, Timothea's gift, whose sculptur'd face display'd Truth, Equity, and Wisdom hand in hand, As in his breast. Exalting high in tone His gracious voice, he thus adjur'd his foes: "Ye men deriv'd from Cadmus, who in Greece Establish'd letters, fruitful mother since Of arts and knowledge, to barbarian spoil This hour expos'd; ye sons of Locris, hear, Thessalians, Phocians, Dorians, all compell'd By savage force to arm against your friends, Of language, rites, and manners with your own
Congenial: Aristides, in the name Of all the Grecian deities, invokes Your own sensations to disarm your hands Of impious weapons, which retard the help We bear to those now struggling in defence Of Grecian freedom, sepulchres, and fanes."
He said; was heard like Enoch, like the man Who walk'd with God, when eminently good Among th' obscene, the violent, and false, Of justice and religion, truth and peace, He spake exploded, and from menac'd death To God withdrew. The fell Boeotians rend
The sky with threat'ning clamour, and their spears Shake in defiance; while the word to charge Perfidious Leontiades conveys.
Retreating backward, Aristides clothes His face in terrour. So Messiah chang'd His countenance serene, when full of wrath Bent on Satanic enemies, who shook
Heav'n's peaceful champaign with rebellious arms, He grasp'd ten thousand thunders, and infix'd Plagues in their souls; while darts of piercing fire Through their immortal substances, by sin Susceptible of pain, his glaring wheels Shot forth pernicious. Aristides leads His phalanx on. Now Greeks to Greeks oppose Their steely structures of tremendous war. With equal spears and shields their torrent fronts They clash together; as the justling rocks, Symplegades Cyanean, at the mouth
Of Thracia's foaming Bosphorus, were feign'd, Infrangible opponents, to sustain
A mutual shock which tempested the frith, Dividing Europe from the Orient world.
Meanwhile Phœbean Timon's glowing zeal, Replete with patriot and religious warmth, Thus in the wing which Eschylus had form'd, Bespake the encircling chieftains: "O'er the space Between Asopus, and the main array Of Thebes, I see the Macedonian horse But half advanc'd: their tardy pace denotes Reluctance. Lo! I meditate an act To prove my zeal for universal Greece, Her violated altars, and the tombs Robb'd of their precious dust. My slender band, So long companions in adventures high With your choice Locrians, Haliartus, join To Medon's banner. Eschylus, observe My progress; if my piety succeeds, Thou, as a soldier, take advantage full."
So saying, o'er the plain in solemn pace His rev'rend form he moves, by snowy bands Pontifical around his plumed helm Distinguish'd. Thus from Salem's holy gate Melchisedek, the priest of him Most High, Went forth to meet, and benedictions pour On Terah's son in Shaveh's royal vale.
The Macedonian squadrons at the sight Fall back in rev'rence; their dismounting prince So wills. The father and the son embrace.
"Oh! Amarantha's husband!" joyful sighs The parent. "Oh! my Amarantha's sire!" In equal joy the husband. Timon then:
"A Greek in blood, to Delphi's priest ally'd, The god of Delphi's blessing now secure ; Abandon these barbarians to the fate, Which in the name of Phoebus I denounce For his insulted temple, and the rape Of Amarantha from Minerva's shrine. Yet to unsheath an unsuspected sword
Against them, neither I, nor Heav'n require, Less thy own honour; but repass the stream, Amid this blind uproar unnotic'd seek Thermopyla again; and reach thy realm. O'er all that clime Themistocles prevails, My friend; his present amity obtain, Cecropia's future love, nor hazard more Thy fame and welfare."—" Aristides knows My truth," replies the monarch; "now to thee Obedience prompt a second proof shall yield. Ascend a steed; to Amarantha's arms
I will conduct thee first; th' auspicious flight Of both, a father shall assist and bless." They speed away, in ecstasy the sire To clasp his darling child in Dirce's grove. This pass'd in Medon's eye, who watchful stood With Haliartus, and a troop advanc'd, In care for Timon. When apparent now The Macedonian squadrons quit the field Of strife, the heavy-cuirass of his wing With serry'd shields by Aschylus is led, In evolution wheeling on the flanks Of that strong mass'd battalia, which compos'd The hostile centre. First in phalanx stood Unwilling Locrians. Medon lifts his voice, And to each eye abash'd his awful shape, Like some reproving deity, presents; They hear, they see Oileus in his son, As ris'n a mourning witness of their shame From his sepulchral bed. The banners drop Before him; down their spears and bucklers fall; They break, disperse, and fly with childrens' fear, When by authority's firm look surpris'd
In some attempt forbidden, or unmeet. Baotian files are next. With sudden wheel They form a front, and dauntless wait the assault. Still in the van robust and martial Thebes Unbroken stems th' agility and skill Of her opponent Athens. Long unspent The tide of well-conducted battle flows Without decision' strong. At length by fate Is Leontiades impell'd to meet
Cecropia's chief, where Thebes began to feel His mighty pressure. Whether justice strong His nerves with force beyond a guilty hand, Or of his manly limbs the vigour match'd His fortitude of mind; his falchion clove Down to the neck that faithless Greek, of Greece The most malignant foe. The treacherous deed, Which laid fair Thespia, with Platean tow'rs In dust, he thus aton'd. A bolt from Heav'n Thus rives an oak, whose top divided hangs On either side obliquely from the trunk. Murichides the Hellespontine bleeds, Too zealous friend of Asia, in whose cause This day he arm'd. By great Mardonius charg'd Late messenger of friendship, he in peace On Salaminian shores had touch'd the hand, Which now amid the tumult pierc'd his heart, Not willingly, if known. Then Lynceus fell, From Edipean Polynices sprung,
The last remains of that ill-fated house. Mironides and Clinias near the side Of Aristides fought, his strong support.
Yet undismay'd and firm three hundred chiefs, Or sons of proudest families in Thebes, Dispute the victory till death. Meantime Olympiodorus from the left had gall'd Thessalia's squadrons, like a fleety storm Checking their speed. Athenian horse, though few,
Mix'd with their bowmen, well maintain'd their | The righteous man: “Pausanias, now receive
His own true-levell'd shaft transfix'd the throat Of Larissean Thorax; who in dust
Buries at length his Aleuadian pride.
Rememb'ring all his charge bold Cimon rears His mighty spear. Impetuous through a band Of yielding Phocians he on Theban ranks Falls like a rapid falcon, when his weight Precipitates to strike the helpless prey. Him slaughter follows; slaughter from the right On Eschylus attends, and mightier waits On Aristides. Justice in his breast Awhile was blind to mercy undeserv'd, Ev'n unimplor'd, by persevering foes Invet'rate. Now on this empurpled stage Of vengeance due to perfidy and crimes,
Twice their own number had the Athenians heap'd Of massacred Boeotians; but as Heav'n, Not to destruction punishing, restrains Its anger just, and oft the harden'd spares, That time may soften, or that suff'rings past, Not measur'd full, may turn the dread of more To reformation; Aristides thus Relenting bade retreat be sounded loud, Then, by th' obedient host surrounded, spake Serene: "Enough of Grecian blood is spilt, Ye men of Athens; low in dust are laid
The beads of those who plann'd the fall of Greece. The populace obtuse, resembling you, Enlighten'd people, as the sluggish beast A gen'rous courser, let your pity save In gratitude to Jove, creating yours Unlike Boeotia's breed-Now form again." Thus equity and mercy he combin'd, Like that archangel, authoris'd by Heav'n Chief o'er celestial armies, when the fall'n From purity and faith in Eden's bow'rs Not to perdition nor despair he left Abandon'd. Aristides still proceeds:
"New victories invite you; Sparta long Hath wanted succour; men of Athens, march." Lo! Menalippus greets in rapid haste
This more than hero. "I am come," he said, "To bring thee tidings of Mardonius slain In open fight. Pausanias still demands Thy instant presence." In pursuit he reach'd The stream. "Not now that passage is forbid," Tisamenus exclaim'd. The gen'ral pass'd In vain to force the well-defended camp; Repuls'd in ev'ry part he dubious stands With disappointment sore; on Attic skill To mount entrenchments and a rampart storm Laconians and Tegaans both depend
To crown the day. Th' Athenian heard, and cool In four divisions separates the host.
Four thousand warriors, light and heavy-arm'd, Each part compose; whose ensigns o'er the flood In order just are carry'd. He attains
Th' adjacent field, and joins Pausanias there; Whose ravell'd brow, and countenance of gloom, Present a lion's grimness, who, some fold, Or stall attempting, thence by vollied stones Of trooping shepherds, and of herdsmen, chas'd, Hath sullenly retreated, though oppress'd By famine dire. To Aristides spake With haughtiness redoubled Sparta's chief:
"Didst thou forget, Athenian, who commands The Grecian armies? Thou hast loiter'd long Since my two mandates." With majestic warmth
From Aristides language new, but just. Thine is the pride of satraps, not the light Ingenuous vanity of Greeks, from sense Of freedom, sense of cultivated minds, Above the rest of mortals. No; a black, Barbaric humour festers at thy heart, Portending usurpation. Know, proud man, Thou hast been weigh'd, and long deficient found By Aristides, thy superior far,
Then most superior, when for public good Compliant most. Thou soon, O! Spartan born, Yet in thy country's decency untaught, Will like a Persian cast a loathing eye On freedom, on Lycurgus and his laws, Which gall a mind despotic.. I presage Thee dangerous, Pausanias. Where the seeds Of dark ambition I suspect, my eye Becomes a jealous centinel; beware, Nor force my active vigilance to proof Now or in future, when united Greece, No more defensive, may retaliate war, Successful war, which prompts aspiring thoughts. Rest now a safe spectator. From defeat Of real warriors, of our fellow Greeks, Not Persians lightly arm'd in loose array, The loiterers of Athens shall with ease Surmount that fence impregnable to thee."
To wait an answer he disdain'd, but march'd; While arrogance in secret gnash'd the teeth Of this dark-minded Spartan, doom'd to proté The boding words of Aristides true.
The Sun, no longer vertical, began His slant Hesperian progress. Of his own host Cecropia's chief began. Enthusiastic flame, without whose aid The soldier, patriot, and the bard is faint, At this great crisis thus inspires the man Of human race the most correct in mind:
"Ye shades of all, who tyrants have expell'd, Ye, who repose at Marathon entomb'd, Ye glorious victims, who exalt the name Of Salamis, and manes of the brave Leonidas, arise! Our banners fan
With your Elysian breath! Thou god supreme, Jove elutherian, send thy child belov'd, With her Gorgonian ægis, to defend
A people struggling not for spoil, or pow'r, Not to extend dominion, but maintain The right of Nature, thy peculiar gift To dignify mankind. I lift this prayer, My citizens, in rev'rence, not in doubt. Of your success. Ye vanquishers of Greeks, Beneath your spears yon servile herd will fall, As corn before the sickle." With a look Of circumspection he remark'd a swell Of ground not fifty paces from the camp; Olympiodorus and his bowmen there He posted first. "Now, Eschylus," he said, "Construct of solid shields a brazen roof; In contact close to yonder fence of wood Form like the tortoise in his massy shell."
The archers, each like Phoebus skill'd, remove With show'rs of death the thick defendants soon Clear from the rampart, which in height surpass'd Two cubits. Eschylus not slow performs His task. A rank of sixty warriors plac'd Erect, with cov'ring bucklers o'er their heads, A brazen platform to the wall unites. The next in order stoop behind; the last
Kueel firm on earth. O'er implicated shields A stable passage thus when Cimon sees, He mounts, and fearless eyes the Asian camp. Between the rampart's basis and the foe An empty space observing, on the ground His spear he fixes, and amidst a storm Of clatt'ring javelins, arrows, darts, and stones, Swings down. So, shooting from the sulph'rous lap Of some dark-vested cloud, a globe of fire Through winds and rain precipitates a blaze Terrific down the raven pall of night. His whole division follows; with his band Myronides, and Eschylus, releas'd
From his first care. Successively they range. The very fence, by Persian toil uprais'd, Now from the Persian multitude secures Th' Athenian near. No obstacle remains To Aristides, who completes his plan. Olympiodorus and his active train
With axes keen, and cleaving spades, approach; Hewn down, uptorn in that surmounted part, The fall'n defences, and the levell'd ground, Soon leave an op'ning wide. His strong reserve, Eight thousand light, two thousand heavy-arm'd, With Haliartus, and Oïleus' son, Cecropia's chief leads forward to sustain
His first bold warriors. Chileus enters next With his Tegæaus, Acmnestus brave, Pausanias, Amompharetus, the youth Of Menalippus, all the Spartan host. Seven Grecian myriads through the breach invade A ground, with swarms of tents and men oppress'd. Dire thus th' irruption of Germanic seas Through strong Batavian mounds; th' inflated brine Stupendous piles of long-resisting weight Bears down, and, baffling strength and art combin'd, Foams o'er a country in its seat profound Below the surface of th' endang'ring main; A country, where frugality and toil
No spot leave waste, no meadow, but in herds Redundant; where the num'rous dwellings show Simplicity but plenty, now immers'd With all their throng'd inhabitants beneath Th' unsparing deluge. Aristides swift, As if by gen'ral choice the chief supreme, Commandment issues, that to either side The host extend, that, skirted by the fence, With wheeling flanks in front the line assume A crescent's figure. Thus the fisher skill'd With his capacious seines, slow-dragg'd and press'd Close on each bank, a river's whole expanse With all its natives glossy-finn'd involves.
Yet Mindarus, with Mede and Persian ranks, A large remainder from the morning fight, Resists, which soon are slaughter'd; he retreats Among the tents, whose multitude impedes The Grecians. Aristides straight commands, That from the heavy line's disjointed length A hundred bands expatiate in the chase Of foes benumb'd by fear, who neither fight, Nor fly, of means depriv'd. The carnage grows In every quarter. Fountains seem unclos'd, Whence rivulets of blood o'erflow the ground. O'er satraps, potentates, and princes fall'n, Strode Aristides, first of men, of Heav'n The imitator in his civil deeds, Now some faint semblance, far as mortal may Of that Almighty victor on the field Ethereal, when o'er helms, and helmed heads Of prostrate seraphim, and powers o'erthrown,
He rode. Still Mindarus, by courage wing'd, From nation flies to nation, still persists Exhorting; though in hopeless thought he sees Great Hyperanthes from the shades ascend, And seems to hear the godlike phantom sigh In mournful words like these: "Ah! fruitless toil! As once was mine, to rescue from despair The panic fears of Asia! Dead in mind, Her host already soon dead clay must lie, Like me on Œta's rock." Yet Midias brave, With Tiridates rous'd, their efforts join. Against them warlike Medon, and the seed Of Lygdamis, chance brings. They side by side, As heretofore Thermopyla beheld
Young Dithyrambus and Diomedon, Had all the day their unresisted wedge Of Locrian shields and Delphian led to deeds, Accumulating trophies. Midias falls By Haliartus. From the slain his lance Recov'ring, tow'rds his patron dear he turns; Him conqu'ror too of Tiridates views
In joy; joy soon to sorrow chang'd! Fate guides A casual weapon from a distant hand; Such as at Ramoth from the Syrian bow, Drawn at a venture, smote between the joints Of harness strong the Israelitish king, Who from the fight bade wheel his chariot, stain'd With his own crimson. Ponderous and broad The hostile lance inflicts a mortal wound In Medon's gen'rous bosom. Not a sigh He breathes, in look still placid and sedate, While death's cold moisture stagnates on his limbs, "Bear," he said By all their pow'rs forsaken. "bear me from the camp, To Haliartus, Nor yet extract the weapon; life, I feel, Would follow swift, and Medon hath a charge Yet to deliver." Some pathetic Muse, In tend'rest measures give these numbers flow Let thine, who plaintive on the pontic verge In servitude Sarmatian, through her page Of sorrows weeps thy banishment from Rome; Or thine, Euripides, whose moral strains Melt sympathy in tears at human woes, Thy vary'd tragic themes, or both unite Your inspiration to describe a heart, Where gratitude o'er all affections dear Predominantly sway'd; the faithful heart Of Haliartus at this sudden stroke
Of direful chance. To death is Medon snatch'd, From glory snatch'd amid victorious friends. The Carian's bosom instant feels combin'd Achilles' anguish at Patroclus dead, The pang of Priam at the fall of Troy, Ev'n woman's grief, Andromache's distress For her slain Hector, and his mother's pain To see his mangled and dishonour'd corse. Great Artemisia's name, th' illustrious blood From Lygdamis deriv'd, his own exploits Of recent fame, are all eras'd from thought In Haliartus now; who sinks again To Melibus. On the wounded chief, As on his lord, his patron, still he looks With all th' affection of a menial, bred In the same home, and cherish'd in that home With lib'ral kindness to his humbler state. He clasps the fainting hero, on the shields Of weeping friends deposits, and conveys Swift through a portal, from its hinges forc'd.
Three hours remain'd to Phoebus in his course. Close by the entrenchment, under beachen shade
Of ancient growth, a fountain bursts in rills Transparent; thither on the down of moss
Was Medon borne and laid. "Unloose," he said, 'My helm, and fill from that refreshing stream." Obey'd, he drank a part; then pouring down The remnant, spake: "By this libation clear Be testified my thanks to all the gods, That I have liv'd to see my country sav'd On this victorious day. My fate requires No lamentation, Haliartus dear,
Oh! more than kindred dear. Commend me first To Aristides; Medon's parting breath
Him victor hails. To Delphi's virtuous priest, To my Leonteus, to the glorious son
Of Neocles, my salutation bear,
To kind Cleander, my Trozenian host, To Hyacinthus of Euboea's race,
The flower of all her chieftains: they have prov'd In me some zeal their island to redeem. Transport my ashes to Melissa's care, Them near the relics of Laconia's king Repose; be mine the neighbour of his urn." Here with an utmost effort of his voice, With arms extended, and Elysian look: "Leonidas, the life thy friendship sav'd, An offring to thy manes, now I close Mature in age, to glory not unknown, Above the wish, as destitute of hope To find a fairer time, or better cause, Than sends me now a messenger to greet Thee with glad tidings of this land preserv'd." With his own hand the javelin from his breast He draws serene; life issues through the wound. New shouts, new trumpets, waken from a trance Of grief the son of Lygdamis. He sees Cleander; who th' Asopian banks had pass'd, Call'd by Sicinus from Saturnia's dome. Lo! Epidaurian Clitophon, the ranks Of Phlius with Menander, Sicyon's chief Automedon, the Hermionean spears With Lycus follow, Cephallene's sons, The Acarnanian, all th' Epirot bands, Leprean Conon, with Mycena's youth Polydamas, by Arimnestus led
The brave Plateans, with his Thespian files Alcimedon, Nearchus with his force Of Chalcis. Potidæan Tydeus next, Eretrian Cleon, Lampon, and the troop Of little Styra, Corinth's banners last, By Adimantus and Alemæon rang'd.
"Too late you come for glory," them bespake The Carian sad: "Lo! half the foes destroy'd By Aristides, fugitives the rest; Lo! there the only loss, which Greece sustains." To him Cleander, with devout regret O'er Medon, honour'd paranymph and guest, His head inclining: "Not too late we come For sacrifice of Persians to the ghost Of this dead hero. Ah! what floods of tears Will fall in Trozen-But let grief prevail Hereafter. Son of Lygdamis, renounce Despondency; Acanthè still survives To fire thy breast as Ariphilia mine; I hear her prompting my vindictive arm. From thy experience of this glorious day Lead thy Trozenian host, where best to point His strenuous efforts. Let thy guiding zeal For me, long cursing my inactive post,
The Carian brave, not less than Phoebus cheer'd The languid son of Priam on the bank Of Xanthus; when a stony mass, of weight To stay a keel on Hellespontine sands, By Ajax hurl'd, benumb'd the Trojan's frame. Thus Haliartus: "Through that open gate, New forc'd, the shortest, safest passage lies; But, to acquire some lustre, I can show Another track for prowess yet to shine."
He leads, all follow, save Corinthian bands With Adimantus, hast'ning through the gate, Soon as to him th' intelligence is brought; Who ent'ring, sees a carnage which confounds A timid spirit. By Alemæon urg'd,
Close by the fence he marches; none he meets But fly before him. Adimantus lifts Ilis spear, and satiates cowardice with blood Of upresisting men. By cheap success Betray'd, a distant quarter he attains, Where Mindarus confronts him. From his steed Th' unyielding satrap whirls a rapid lance, Which nails the base Corinthian to the ground. Alemæon next is wounded; more had bled, But Aristides o'er that part, devoid Of tents, his dreadful crescent in array Is forming new. The Persian starts; he flies To one last angle of the spacious camp, Sole spot unfore'd. Half circled now in front, The Attic, Spartan, and Tegæan ranks, In motion slow, yet moving on, augment Progressively their terrours, like a range Of clouds, which thicken on the brow of night, Already shatter'd by the morning storm. A final wreck portending to a fleet, Round Mindarus the remnant of his host Collected still is numerous. Them he sees Oft look behind, a sight that ill accords With warriors; but, as now in columns deep Its glitt'ring horns that direful crescent shows Within the limits of a javelin's cast,
All turn intent on flight at large; they break Their own enclosure down, whose late defence Is present bane, and intercepts escape. Lo! Haliartus; all whose grief is chang'd To fire, heroic flame. Three myriads fresh He pours; that crowded angle he invests, Preventing flight. Cleander looks around Like some tornado menacing a bark, Which soon unseam'd and parted sinks ingulf'd; He finds a breach and with him enters death. The long-enduring satrap, whose mild soul Calamity hath worn, resembles now The poor desponding sailor, who is left Last of the found'ring vessel on a plank Alone. No coast appears; the greedy swell He sees around, expecting ev'ry wave Will terminate his being, and forgoes All hope of succour. His afflicted soul Thus with an effort equal to his rank
The prince explores: "What, Mindarus, remains For thee deserted! In another's home Cleora dwells; Masistius is no more; Slain is Mardonius, Asia's glory fall'n; Thon hast too long been fugitive this day;
Like Teribazus close a term of woe;
Like him in death be honour'd." He dismounts, He grasps a spear. Such diguity of shame To Ilian Hector, from his flight recall'd,
Yet find one track to fame." These gallant words Great Homer's Muse imparted. While the prince
Of cordial frankness from dejection lift
Is meditating thus, a man sublime
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