Not for themselves.He shakes his javelin now,
And seems to meditate a deathful blow;
Yet high in air the missile weapon cast,
Which wilful err'd, the object far o'erpast:
Before the face of Dymas fix'd it lay,
(Who started first) and check'd him in the way.
But valiant Æpytus his javelin toss'd
With care, nor will'd the fair occasion lost.
Through Hopleus' back the well-aim'd dart he flung,
And graz'd the corse, that on his shoulders hung.
He falls, not mindless of his lord in death, 571
But in the painful grasp expires his breath:
Too happy, had he reach'd the Stygian coast
Just then, unknowing that the corse was lost.
This scap'd not Dymas: as he turn'd behind,
He sees the troops, in his destruction join'd,
Uncertain or to tempt th' approaching foes
With soothing blandishments, or ply with blows.
Wrath spurs to combat, fortune bids him try
The force of pray'r: on none he can rely.
Too wroth to sue, before his feet he plac'd
The wretched corse, with wounds unfelt disgrac'd;
And tossing to the left a weighty hide,
(Which grac'd his back, and hung with martial pride,

580

Haud temere est visum. Conclamat ab agmine Volscens,

State, viri: quæ causa viæ? quive estis in armis? Quove tenetis iter?-Verse 367.

561. He shakes his javelin now] This circumstance is borrowed from the tenth book of Homer's Iliad, v. 372.

Ηρα, καὶ ἔγχος ἀφῆκεν, ἑκὼν δ' ἡμάρτανε φωτός.
Δεξιτερὸν δ ̓ ὑπὲρ ὦμον ἐυξόν δειςὸς ἀκωκὴ
Ἐν γαίη ἐπάγη, ὁ δ ̓ ἄρ ̓ ἔφη, τάρβησέν τε.

581. Too wroth to sue, before his feet he plac'd] Nothing can exceed the valour and magnanimity of this hero.He would not surrender up the body of his friend, and knew that it was impossible to preserve it by carrying it on his back, as it must necessarily tie up his hands from making any defence: he therefore places it on the ground before his enemies, as the prize for which they were to fight. His various movements and situation on this occasion are well illustrated by the subsequent comparison, which is imitated from Homer.

Ως τις τε λέων περὶ οἴσι τέκεσσιν
Ωἳ ῥά τε νήπι' άγοντι συναντήσονται ἐν ύλη
*Ανδρες ἐπακτήρες, ὁ δέ τε σθένει βλεμεαίνει,
Παν δὲ τ ̓ ἐπισκυνιον κάτω ἕλκεται, ὅσσε καλύπτων.
Iliad, b. 17. v. 133.

Ariosto in his Orlando Furioso has translated our author's comparison almost literally, with the single difference of substituting a she-bear instead of a lioness.

Com' orsa, che l' alpestre cacciatore
Nella pietrosa tana assalito abbia :
Sta sopra i figli con incerto core,
E freme in suoni di pieta, e di rabbia,

Ira la invita, e natural furore

A spiegar l' ugna, e insanguinar la sabbia; Amor la intenerisce, e la ritira

A riguardar i figli in mezo all' ira.

600

A tiger's spoils) protends his naked blade, And guards the hero's body, undismay'd: Prepar'd for ev'ry dart that comes, he turns: And with the thirst of death or conquest burns, As the gaunt lioness, whose cruel den Is thick beset with clam'rous hounds and men, 590 Stands o'er her whelps, erect, and sends around, Perplex'd with doubts, a mournful, angry sound. With ease she might disperse the sable train, And knap the weapons with her teeth in twain, But natʼral love o'ercomes the lust of fight: She foams with rage, yet keeps her whelps in sight. The falchion now lops off his weaker hand, Though great Amphion check'd the furious band, And by his hair the youth is dragg'd along, By fate resign'd to an insulting throng. Then, nor till then, in suppliant guise he bow'd His sword, and thus address'd the ruthless crowd. "More gently treat the tender boy, I pray, By that blest cradle, where young Bacchus lay, By luckless Ino's flight, and female fears, And your Palæmon's almost equal years. If one among you tastes domestic joys, If any here paternal care employs, Heap o'er his poor remains a little sand, And to his pyre apply one kindled brand. His looks, behold! his looks this boon implore. First let the monsters lap my spatter'd gore: Me, me resign to the fell birds of prey; 'Twas I, who train'd, and fore'd him to the fray." "If such is thy desire" (Amphion cries) "To deck his corse with fun'ral obsequies, What, to redeem their loss, the Greeks prepare, Their schemes, their counsels, and resolves declare. As a reward, the light of life enjoy, And, as thou wilt, intomb th' unhappy boy." 620 Th' Arcadian, full of horrour, scorn'd a part So base, plung'd all the poniard in his heart, And cry'd, "Did nought, save this, remain to close My country's fate, that I should tell her foes Her fix'd intents?-We buy no fun'ral pyre On terms like these, nor would the prince require." He spake, and on his youthful leader laid His breast, wide-open'd by the trenchant blade, And said in dying accents, " Thou shalt have My lifeless corse, a temporary grave." Thus did the warriour of Ætolian race, And brave Arcadian, in the wish'd embrace

610

630

609. Heap o'er his poor remains] So Horace, lib. 1. ode 28.

At tu, nauta, vagæ ne parce malignus arenæ
Ossibus et capiti inhumato
Particulam dare.

Of their lov'd kings, expire their vital breath,
Rush on destruction, and enjoy their death.
Embalm'd in verse, illustrious shades, you live,
And share alike the praise my Muse can give,
Though rank'd at distance in th' Aonian quire,
She boasts not loftier Maro's tuneful lyre:
Perchance too Nisus and his friend may deign
To style you comrades in th' Elysian plain.
But fierce Amphion to the regal court
A herald sends, commission'd to report
His feats of triumph, the device explain,
Aud render back each captive corse again.
He flies himself to brave the leaguer'd foes,
And each associate's sever'd visage shows.
Meantime the Grecians from the walls discern
Thiodamas, and hail his safe return;

640

Nor could they check the gush of joy, and hide
The smiles of secret transport, when they spy'd
The naked swords, distain'd with blood.-Again
A louder clamour runs through all the traiu, 652
Whilst, leaning o'er the ramparts, they look down
For the returning troops, each for his own.
Thus when a eallow brood of birds descry
Their dam long-absent, as she cleaves the sky,
They long to meet her, and put forth their heads
Far from the nest, whilst anxiously she dreads
Lest, ere she reach the tree, they fall,-then clings
To the warm nest, and flaps her loving wings. 660
But, whilst they clasp their friends in their embrace,
And count the slaughter of the Theban race,
For absent Hopleus some concern they show,
And oft complain, that Dymas is too slow.
Behold! the leader of the Tyrian band,
Amphion comes, a falchion in his hand.
Damp'd was his joy for the two warriors slain,
When he beheld, what carnage heap'd the plain,
The strength, and bulwark of the Thebans lost,
And in one ruin stretch'd a mighty host.
His vital frame a sudden tremour shook,
Such as attends the wretch, by thunder struck:
Fix'd as a stone, and motionless he stood,
And lost at once his voice, his sight, and blood.
The courser turns him, ere he bursts in sighs:
The dust rolls backward, as the cohort flies.

670

639, Perchance too Nisus and his friend] This is a very modest character of one of the most beautiful episodes I know. Neither can I think it so much inferior to that of Nisus and Euryalus, as the author seems to do himself. In Virgil we admire friendship for the living, but in Statius a generous gratitude to the dead; which, however, is given up to the service of the public. The reply, which Dymas makes to Amphion, who tempted him to betray his countrymen, with the promise of life and the body of his friend, is equal to any thing I have ever read in the sentimental way.

690

With lengthen'd strides the Tyrians sought the gate,
When the brave Grecians, hearten'd and elate
With their nocturnal triumph, to the meads
Spring, full of hopes, and urge their foaming steeds
O'er arms, and blood and bodies of the slain, 681
Excite the dust, and thunder through the plain,
Their heavy hoofs the limbs of heroes tore,
And the stain'd axle-trees are clogg'd with gore.
Sweet is the vengeance, pleasant is the way,
As if all Thebes in dust low-humbled lay,
And trampled with their feet.-To these began
G:eat Capaneus." No longer on the plan
Of timid caution, urge we the dark fight,
But let our deeds be witness'd by the light.
By me no other omens are explor'd,
Than my victorious hand, and naked sword."
He said. Adrastus and his son inspire
The troops with courage, and add fire to fire:
The augur then more sad and slow succeeds.
And now that day had clos'd their martial deeds,
The city enter'd; (while the wordy chief
Recounts their loss, and tells the tale of grief)
But Megareus the black battalion ey'd
Rising on sight, and from the watch-tow'r cry'd,
Shut, sentry, shut the gates, the foe is near."
There is a season, when excess of fear'
Augments our vigour. At the word they rose,
And all the gates, save one, were seen to close:
For whilst slow Echion at th' Ogygian toils,
The Spartan youth, inflam'd with lust of spoils,
Rush boldly in, and in the threshold fall,
Their blood thick dash'd against the hostile wall:
Brave Panopeus from high Taygetus came,
To rough Eurotas Ebalus laid claim:
And thou, Alcidamas, whom fame reports
A recent victor in Nemean sports,
Whose wrists first Tyndar's son with gantlets bound,
And with the season'd cincture girt thee round,
With dying eyes behold'st thy patron's star,
That sets, and gives thee to the rage of war.
Th' Ebalian grove, the margin of the stream,
From fair Lacæna styl'd, the poet's theme,
And haunt ofthe false swan, thy death shall mourn, -
And Dian's nymphs the doleful notes return. 720

699

710

677. With lengthen'd strides] Homer paints Hector's progress in the eleventh book of the Iliad, with the same heat of imagination.

Ως άρα φωνήσας, ἵμασεν καλλίτριχας ἵππως
Μάζιγι λιγυρή τοι δὲ, πληγῆς ἀνοντες,
Ριμφ ̓ ἔφερον θεὸν ἅρμα μετά Τρώας καὶ ̓Αχαιός,
Στέιβοντες νέκυάς τε καὶ ἀσπίδες· αἵματι δ' ἄξων
Νέρθεν ἅπας πεπάλακτο, καὶ άντυγες αἱ περὶ δίφρον,
Ας ἄρ ̓ ἀφ ̓ ἱππέιων ὁ πλέων ῥαθαμιγκες ἔβαλλον,
Ας τ' ἀπ ̓ ἐπεσσώτρων.

ficer.

Thy mother too, who martial precepts gave,
And whose sage lessons form'd thee wise and brave,
Shall think, thou learn'dst too much.-Thus in
Mars rages on, aud acts the will of fate. [the gate
At length, their shoulders to the mass oppos'd,
Great Alimenides, and Acron clos'd

The valves of iron-kept the foes at bay,
Barr'd the strong portals, and exclude the fray.
Thus two stout bullocks, groaning as they bow
Their necks, through fields long-fallow from the
plough.
730

Their loss, alas! was equal to their gain:
For they exclude their friends, while they retain
Their enemies, coop'd up within the walls.
First Ormenus of Grecian lineage falls.
In suppliant posture whilst Amynthor stood,
And with extended hands for mercy su'd,
His parted visage fell upon the ground,
Th' unfinish'd accents ceas'd beneath the wound,
And his gay chain, the work of artful hands,
Clinks, dust-dishonour'd on the hostile sands. 740
Meantime the trench is broke, the outworks fall,
And leave a passage open to the wall,

Near which in lines was rang'd the num'rous band
Of infantry.The coursers trembling stand,
Nor, though impatient, dare the trench o'erleap,
The prospect was so dark, the gulph so deep.
Just on the margin eagerly they neigh,
Then suddenly start back with wild affray.
These strive to force the gates, those pluck away
The pales, that in the ground deep-fasten'd lay;
The iron bars some labour to remove,
Whilst others from their sounding places shove
Huge stones.-Part see with joy the brands, they
flung,

751

Stuck to the spires, or on the turrets hung:
Part search the basis, and apply the pow'r
Of the dark shell, to sap each hollow tow'r.
But the besieg'd (for this resource alone
Remain'd) the summit of the bulwarks crown;
And stakes, well-season'd in the flames, vast beams,
Well-polish'd darts, that shed incessant gleams,
And heated bullets from the ramparts throw, 761
And rob the walls of stones, to gall the foe.
The weapon'd windows hissing javelins pour,
And thick around descends the steely show'r.

729. Thus two stout bullocks] The image here given of the two warriors is as lively as it is exact. Their toil, vigour, nearness to each other, and the difficulties they encounter with, perfectly answer to each circumstance in the comparison, which is abridged from Homer's Iliad.

Αλλ' ως' ἐν νεῶ βόε οἴνοπε πηκτὸν ἄροτρον, Ισον θυμὸν ἔχοντε, τιταίνεῖον, ἀμφὶ δ ̓ ἄρα σφιν Πρυμνοῖσιν κεράεσσι πολὺς ἀνακηκίει ίδρώς. Τῷ μέν τε ζυγὸν οἷον ἐύξοον ἀμφὶς ἐέργει, Ιεμένω κατά ωλκα· τέμνει δέ τε τέλσον ἀφέρης. Book 13. line 703. 744. The coursers trembling stand] These lines are imitated from the twelfth book of the Iliad, line 50.

Τάφρον ἐποτρύνων διαβαινέμεν, ἐδὲ οἱ ἵπποι Τόλμων ωκύποδες. μάλα δὲ χρεμέτιζον ἐπ' ἄκρω Χέιλει ἐφεςαότες. ἀπὸ γὰρ δειδίσσετο τάφρο Εὐρει' ὅτ' αὖ ὑπερορέειν σχεδόν, ὅτε περήσαν Pidin

771

790

As when on Malea, or Ceraunia's hill
The cloud-wrapt tempests, motionless and still,
Collect new forces, and augment their rage,
Then sudden combat with old Ocean wage,
Thus the beleag'ring Greeks without the wall
Of Thebes, o'erpow'r'd with hostile numbers fall.
Their breasts and faces obvious to the fray,
The thick'ning tempest drives them not away:
Mindless of death, straight to the walls they turn
Their looks, and their own darts alone discern.
His scythe-hung car round Thebes while Anthems
A Tyrian lance arrests him from above: [drove,
Numb'd with the stroke, his hand dismiss'd the rein:
He tumbles backward, fasten'd to the wain
By his bright greaves.-O wondrous fate of war!
His arms are trail'd by the swift-rolling car. 789
Beneath the smoking wheels two ruts appear,
The third imprinted by the hanging spear:
His graceful head depending on the strand,
His bloody tresses purple all the sand.
Meantime the trumpet kindles fierce alarms
Through the sad city, and excites to arms,
Thund'ring at ev'ry door its baleful call.
Their posts assign'd by lot, before them all
The standard-bearer carries in his hand
Th' imperial ensign of the Tyrian band.
Dire was the face of things, with such a scene
Not Mars himself would have delighted been.
Flight, circumfus'd in gloom, nor rul'd by thought,
Fear, sorrow, and despair, to fury wrought,
The madding town with doubtful horrours rend,
And in one subject various passions blend. [sound
You'd swear, the war was there.-The tow'rs re
With frequent steps; the streets are fill'd around:
With fancy's eye they view the fire and sword,
And wear the fetters of an Argive lord.
Preventing fear absorb'd the time to come :
They fill with shrieks each house and holy dome;
Th' ungrateful altars are besieg'd with tears,
And the same terrour rules all ranks and years.
The old men pray for death: the youth by turns
Grows pale with fright, or with resentment burus:
The trembling courts the female shrieks rebound,
Their infant-sons, astonish'd at the sound,
Nor knowing whence the streams of sorrow flow,
Condole, and melt in sympathetic woe.
Love calls the dames together.-At this hour
The sense of shame gives place to fortune's pow'r.
They arm the men, with courage fire each breast,
Schemes of revenge with ready wit suggest,
And, rushing with them, lay before their eyes
Their homes, and babes, the pledge of nuptial ties

800

810

785. Meantime the trumpet] After this me. lancholy description of the fate of Antheus, how are we startled at the sudden sound of the cla rion! There is an equally abrupt transition from the pathetic to the terrible, in the ninth book of Virgil's Eneid, where our concern for the distressed mother of Euryalus is interrupted by

At tuba terribilem sonitum procul ære canoro Increpuit.

805. The old men] The description of the dif ferent effects this consternation had upon the dif ferent stages of life, is executed with an amazing spirit and propriety; every circumstance is nature, and nature without disguise.

820

Thus when some shepherd-swain essays to drive
The bees thick cluster'd from their cavern'd hive,
In sable clouds they rise, assert their right,
And, buzzing, urge each other to the fight:
At length, deserted by their blunted stings,
They clasp the honey'd sweets with weary wings,
And, pressing to them, take a last farewell
Of their long-labour'd combs, and captive cell.
The vulgar too each other's schemes oppose;
Kindled by them, the flame of discord glows.
With open voice these wish the crown restor'd,
And claim great Polynices for their lord.

All rev'rence lost," No longer let him roam" (One cries)" remote from his paternal home, 830 1 But hail his household-gods, his sire again,

841

And take possession of his annual reign.
Say, why should I with frequent blood atone
For the king's crimes, and perj'ry not my own?
"Late, much too late" (another chief replies)
"Comes that advice, when the wrong'd foe relies
On speedy conquest."-A more abject crew
With pray'rs and tears to sage Tiresias sue,
And, as some solace, urge him to disclose
The future times, or fraught with bliss or woes.
But he the mighty secret still suppress'd
Within the dark recesses of his breast,
And thus.-"Why did your king my counsel slight,
When I forbade him the perfidious fight?
Yet thee, ill-fated Thebes! should I pass o'er,
And lose th' occasion, which returns no more?
I cannot hear thy fall, nor view the light
Of Grecian fires with these dim orbs of sight.
Then yield we, Piety.-O damisel, place
A pile of altars to th' immortal race."
This done, the nymph inspects with curious eyes,
And tells her sire, that ruddy tops arise
From the divided flames, but at the height
The middle fire emits a clearer light;

Then she informs him doubtful, that the blaze
Describ'd a snake, roll'd up in circling maze,
And varying, almost lost its bloody hue,
And paints all to his intellectual view.

850

817. Thus when] This simile seems to have been taken from one in the twelfth book of the

Eneid, which, according to Mons. Catrou, is imitated from Apollonius Rhodius's Argonautics, lib. 1. verse 150.

Ως δὲ μέλισσαν σμήνα μέγα μηλοβοτήρες
μὲ μελισσόκομοι πέτρη ἐνὶ καπνέωσιν,
Αι δέ τα τείως μὲν πολλέες κ εν. οίμβλω
Βομβηδόν κλονέονται, ἐπὶ πρὸ δὲ λιγνυμενι
Καπνω τύφομεναι πέτρης ἐκὰς ἀίσσεσιν.
Virgil's is

Inclusas ut cùm latebroso in pumice pastor
Vestigavit apes, fumoque implevit amaro ;
Illæ intus trepida rerum per cerea castra
Discurrunt, magnisque acuunt stridoribus iras.
Volvitur ater odor tectis; tum murmure cœco
Intus saxa sonant: vacuas it fumus ad auras.

At length he gave a loose to rage, and cried, "Ye guilty Thebans, hear what fates betide Your city, the result of sacrifice:

869

880

Its safety may be bought, though high the price.
The snake of Mars, as his due rite, demands
A human victim from the Theban bands;
Fall he, whoe'er amidst our num'rous trains
The last of the fell dragon's race remains:
Thrice happy, who can thus adorn his death,
And for so great a meed resign his breath!
Near the fell altars of the boding chief
Sad Creon stood, and fed his soul on grief:
Yet then he only wept his common fate,
And the near ruin of th' Aonian state,
When sudden as the vengeful shaft arrests
Some hapless wretch, deep sinking in his breasts,
Pale horrour fix'd him, when he heard the call,
Which summons brave Menaceus to his fall.
A clammy sweat crept cold o'er ev'ry part,
Fear froze his veins, and thrill'd thro' all his heart.
Thus the Trinacrian coast sustains the tide
Afar rebounding from the Lybian side.
Whilst for the victim the stern prophet cries,
Full of th' inspiring god, in suppliant guise 890
Around his knees the tender father clung,
And strove in vain to curb his boding tongue.
Swift Fame then makes the sacred answer known,
And the dead oracle flies round the town.
Now, Clio, say, who this young warrior fir'd,
And in his breast contempt of death inspir'd!
(For ne'er, in absence of the pow'rs divine,
Could mortal harbour such a brave design)
Pursue the mighty theme: to thee alone
The storied deeds of early times are known. 900
Jove's fav'rite goddess press'd the throne, from

whence

1

911

The gods rare virtue's costly gifts dispense
'Midst Earth's best sons:-1
-whether almighty Jove
Consign'd it to them from well-founded lore,
Or, mindful of their merits, she might choose
In ample breasts the glorious sparks t' infuse;
She sprung, all gladsome, from the realms of day:
With def'rence meet the brightest stars give way,
And signs, which for their feats and genuine worth
Herself had fix'd in Heav'n.-She lights on Earth,
Her face not far remote from air, appears
In Mantho's form, and looks of equal years.
That her responses might due credit gain,
She quits awhile the badges of her reign:
No more of terrour in her eyes is seen;
Smooth is her brow, and less severe her mien :
The sword and arms of death are thrown aside,
And by the augur's staff their place supply'd.
And her rough laurell'd hair with fillets bound.
Her loosely-flowing garments sweep the ground,
Yet her stern visage, and the steps she trod
With longsome strides reveal the latent god.
Thus smil'd the Lydian queen when she descry'd
Alcides, stript of his terrific hide,

mus.

921

The dragon whose teeth were sown by Cad

895. Now, Clio, say] The grandeur of this machinery must delight every one who has the least tincture of taste; and indeed this whole story is very affecting. The patriotic heroism of Menæceus in particular, is finely contrasted by the tender affection and fatherly love of Creon.

923. Thus smil'd the Lydian queen] The for

930

Shine in embroider'd vests, and robes of cost,
On his broad back, and brawny shoulders lost,
When Pallas' arts with ill success he try'd,
And broke the timbrel, which in vain he ply'd.
Nor thee, Menæceus, does the goddess find
Unworthy of the honours she design'd:
Before the Theban tow'rs she sees thee stand,
With early worth preventing her command.
Soon as th' enormous portals wide unclose,
How didst thou quash the pride of Argive foes!
Thus Hæmon rages too; but tho' you shine
Brothers in all, the greater praise is thine.
The breathless carcases are heap'd around;
Sure flies each dart, each weapon bears a wound.
Nor yet was virtue present.-Ne'er he stands,
Unbent his mind, unexercis'd his hands: 940
His arms no leisure know, the sphinx pourtray'd
Upon his helm seems mad; the blood survey'd,
Th' enliven'd effigy springs forth to view,
And the dull copper wears a brighter hue:
When now the goddess check'd his furious hand,
And thus accosts him, as he lifts the brand.
"O noble youth, whose claim of lineage Mars
With joy accepts, resign these humble wars;
This palm is not thy due.-The stars invite
Thy soul away, and promise more delight.
My sire now rages in the joyful fane;
This sense the flames and fibres ascertain,
This Phoebus urges; thee all Thebes demands,
To save the rest of her devoted bands.
Fame sings the sacred answer, and our youth
With shouts of triumph hail the voice of truth.
Embrace the glorious offer then, nor waste
The time away, but to fruition haste,
Lest Hæmon start before thee."-Thus she spake,
And fann'd the sparks of virtue still awake; 960
Then, clearing all his doubts with lenient art,
She winds herself, unseen, into his heart.
Swift as assail'd by Jove's unerring aim,
The blasted cypress takes th' ethereal flame,
From top to stern with bright contagion spread;
The youth (so well her forceful influence sped)
titude of Hercules was not equal to his amorous-
ness. He fell in love with Omphale, queen of
Lydia, and in order to win her affections by his
obsequiousness, condescended to change the lion's
hide for a suit of purple, and the club for a dis-
taff.

950

941. The sphinx pourtray'd] Though some readers may think this image too bold, it is evident Tasso did not, from his imitation of it. Gierus. lib. can. 9. st. 25.

Porta il Soldan su'l elmo orrido e grande
Serpe, che si dilunga, e'l collo suoda
Su le zampe s' inalza, e l' ali spande,
E piega in arco la forcuta coda,
Par che tre lingue vibri, e che fuor mande
Livida spuma, e che l' suo fischio s' oda.
Ed or, ch' arde la pugua anch' ei s' infiamma
Nel moto, e fumo versa insieme, e fiamma.

949. The stars invite] These verses are imitated by the last-quoted author, in the second book of his Jerusalem, where Sophronia says to Olindo,

Lieto aspira alta superna fede : Mira il ciel, com' e bello, e mira il sole,

970

Feeds the new ardours kindled in his breast,
And longs for death, each meaner thought supprest.
But when he 'gan at leisure to survey
Her gait and habit, as she turns away,
And mingling with the clouds, eludes his eyes,
In height of admiration, thus he cries.
"Willing, O goddess, we obey thy call,
Nor meet with passive sloth the destin'd fall:"
- And while from fight, obsequious, he withdrew,
Agreus of Pylos near the trenches slew.
At length, supported by his menial train,
He goes; the vulgar hail him o'er the plain
With names of patriot, champion, god, inspire
An honest pride, and set his soul on fire. 980
And now to Thebes his hasty course he bends,
Well-pleas'd to have escap'd his wretched friends,
When Creon met him, and would fain accost,
But his breath fail'd, his utterance was lost.
Awhile both silent and dejected stand,
At length his sire began with kind demand.
"Say, prythee, what new stroke of fortune calls
My son from fight, when Greece surrounds our walls?
What worse than cruel war dost thou prepare,
Why do thy eyes with rage unwonted glare, 990
Why o'er thy cheeks such savage paleness reigns,
And ill thy face a father's look sustains?
Heard'st thou the forg'd responses?—It appears
Too well.-My son, by our unequal years,
I pray thee, and thy wretched mother's breasts,
Trust not, O trust not, what the seer suggests.
Think'st thou, the pow'rs that haunt yon starry
Vouchsafe to shed down intellectual light [height,
On such a dotard, whose perpetual gloom
And age approach th' incestuous monarch's doom?
Yet more-the king may deal with secret fraud,
And for some end spread these reports abroad,
For well I ween, he views with jealous eye
Thy first-rate valour and nobility.
Perchance these pompous words, which we suppose
Divine, from his too fertile brain arose.
Give not thy heated mind the reins of sway,
Allow some interval, some short delay:
Impetuous haste misguides us oft.—O grant
This last, this modest boon; 'tis all I want. 1010
So be thy temples silver'd o'er with age;
So may a father's cares thy thoughts engage,
And cause the fears thy rash designs inspire ;
Ne'er then, O ne'er forsake thy wretched sire.
Why should the pledges of another's love,
And alien parents thy compassion move?
If aught of shame remains, first tend thy own:
This is true piety, and true renown.
The other's a mere shade, a transient breath
Of fame, and titles lost in gloomy death.
Nor think I check thee thro' excess of fear:
Go, mix in combat-toss the pointed spear,

999

1020

987. Say, prythee] One seidom meets with a finer piece of dissuasive and pathetic eloquence, than this oration of Creon. The circumstances of distress show a judicious choice in the poet, and are expressed in a very happy manner. The. question Creon puts to his son, in "Heard'st answering it himself, is a striking instance of the thou, &c." and the preventing his confusion by poet's taste in the use of figures. The odium he afterwards throws on Eteocles, and the ridiculous light he sets Tiresias in, to give weight to his de