The Athenaid

The morning breaks; Nicanor sudden greets The gen'ral; welcome tidings in these words He utters loud: The citadel is won, The tyrant slaughter'd. With our sacred guide A rugged, winding track, in brambles hid, Half up a crag we climb'd; there, stooping low, A narrow cleft we enter'd; mazy still We trod through dusky bowels of a rock, While our conductor gather'd, as he stepp'd, A clue, which careful in his hand he coil'd. Our spears we trail'd; each soldier held the skirt Of his preceding comrade. We attain'd An iron wicket, where the ending line Was fasten'd; thence a long and steep ascent Was hewn in steps; suspended on the sides, Bright rows of tapers cheer'd our eyes with light. We reach'd the top; there lifting o'er his head A staff, against two horizontal valves Our leader smote, which open'd at the sound. Behind me Hyacinthus on the rock Sunk sudden down, pronouncing in his fall Cleora; I on Hyacinthus call'd.

Is this Cleora's husband? cried the priest; Descend, my Pamphila, my wife, descend.

She came, a rev'rend priestess; tender both With me assisting plac'd my speechless friend Within a cleft by me unmark'd before, Which seem'd a passage to some devious cell. Me by the hand Elephenor remov'd Precipitate; a grating door of brass Clos'd on my parting steps. Ascend, he said, Make no enquiry; but remain assur'd, His absence now is best. I mount, I rise Behind a massy basis which upheld Jove grasping thunder, and Saturnia crown'd, Who at his side outstretch'd her scepter'd hand. The troops succeeding fill the spacious dome. Last, unexpected, thence more welcome, rose, Detach'd from Medon with five hundred spears, Brave Haliartus, who repair'd the want Of my disabled colleague. Now the priest:

Ye chiefs, auxiliar to the gods profan'd, And men oppress'd, securely you have reach'd The citadel of Oreus. The dark hour Befriends your high attempt. Let one possess The only entrance from the town below, The other swift the palace must surprise, Where Demonax lies slumb'ring, if his guilt Admits of rest, and dreams not of your spears.

With small resistance from a drowsy guard I seiz'd the gate; the palace soon was forc'd By Haliartus. Demonax maintain'd, From door to door fierce combat, till he sunk, Blaspheming ev'ry pow'r of heav'n and hell, On his own couch, beneath repeated wounds Delv'd in his body by the Carian sword, Whose point produc'd the sever'd head in view.

These news, Sicinus, to Eudora bear, Themistocles began. Before her feet Fall grateful, kiss for me her hallow'd robe; My venerable friend Tisander hail, To her, to him, this victory we owe. Salute Timoxenus, my noble host, Greet his excelling daughter; let them hear Of brave Nicanor, and the Carian sword, Which, closing at a blow this dang'rous war, Preserves so many Greeks. Carystian chief, Accept from me good tidings in return For thine. Intelligence this hour hath brought, That vigilant Cleander hath possess'd The naval fort, an inlet to the town For this whole army, pouring from our ships Successive numbers, if the Persian bands Yet meditate resistance. Not to give Their consternation leisure to subside, Against the walls each standard shall advance.

He said, and gave command. The diff'rent chiefs Head their battalions. Oreus trembling sees Encircling danger; heralds in their pomp, Dread summoners, are nigh. Her foreign guard, Depriv'd of wonted leaders, at the fall Of Demonax aghast, in thought behold Death in the conquer'd citadel extend His hideous arms to beckon from the fleet Cleander's valour, and from swarming tents Themistocles. On his approach the gates Are thrown abroad. From all the Persian bands Their javelins, shields, and banners on the ground Pale fear deposits. Thus the yielding masts Of all their canvass mariners divest, When Aeolus is riding on a storm To overwhelm the vessel, which would drive In full apparel to resist his ire.

Th' Athenian, though triumphant, in his joy Omits no care. To Aeschylus awhile The charge supreme transferring, he ascends The citadel; the Carian victor there Conducts him o'er the palace, shews the corse Of Demonax, his treasury unspoil'd, By chosen Locrians guarded. Pleas'd, the chief Embraces Haliartus: Friend, he said, Though late acquir'd, inestimable friend, How shall I praise thee? but my bosom wrapt In long concealment, now to thee alone Disclos'd, shall warrant my profess'd regard. Know, that whatever thou hast heard, or seen Of my Euboean labours, are no more, Than preparation for a wider stage Of action. Gold, one necessary means, Thou hast provided; but I want a man Of hardy limbs and vig'rous, bold, discreet, Who all the Persian quarters would explore, On either side Thermopylae; would trace Whate'er employs Mardonius, what the time He takes the field, and where his gather'd stores Of war deposits. Thessaly provok'd Long since my just resentment. Ere the king Of Asia pass'd the Hellespont, I led Ten thousand Greeks her passes to defend; By her deserted and betray'd, I march'd Unprofitably back. The Carian here:

Had I endowments equal to my will, I were that man. Accept me, as I am, Vers'd in those borders, me, whose faithful zeal Leonidas experienc'd and approv'd; So let Themistocles. My rustic weeds I can resume to range th' Oetaean crags, The fields of Locris, and Thessalia's plains.

Thou art that man, th' Athenian quick rejoin'd; Then hold thee ready. Sudden in their birth Are my resolves, and when mature have wings.

This said, he visits Aeschylus below. Judicious he in stations had dispos'd The various bands; the pris'ners were secur'd. Throughout th' Orēan streets and dwellings reign'd Tranquillity and order. Him the son Of Neocles bespake: To-morrow's dawn Shall see thee honour'd, as becomes a chief, Whom Aristides nam'd, and Athens chose To save Euboea. I defer till night Our consultations. I, not wanted here, Will reascend the citadel; the voice Of friendship calls me to a tender care.

He seeks the fane. Elephenor he greets; Applause to him in gratitude unfeign'd Presenting, next his earnest lips enquire Of Hyacinthus. Here the rev'rend man:

First know, his dear Cleora is alive. I, priest of Jove, and Pamphila my wife, Who to th' Olympian empress in this seat Of blended rites are ministers, when told That Demonax had doom'd his child to death, Solicited her pardon in the names Of both divinities. At both he spurn'd, While we contriv'd this stratagem. Her nurse, By us admonish'd, in due time declar'd Cleora dead. The body of a slave, A youthful maiden recently expir'd, Was for Cleora carried to the flames, While her we shelter'd in a secret cell, From human sight, from sight of day conceal'd. These pow'rs, alike offended at th' intent As perpetration of an impious deed, Have sent thee forth their instrument of wrath, Divinely-prompted hero. Wilt thou shed On Hyacinthus and Cleora's bliss Thy guardian smile? This utter'd, down the steps He guides th' Athenian to the hidden cell.

By his Cleora Hyacinthus sat. The youthful husband o'er the snowy breast, Which lull'd and cherish'd a reposing babe, The blooming father o'er that precious fruit Hung fondly. Thoughtful ecstasy recall'd His dream at Juno's temple; where he saw The visionary bosom of his bride Disclose maternal to an infant new That pillow smooth of lillies. Wan her cheek Told her confinement from the cheerful day. Six moons in deep obscurity she dwelt; Where, as a sea-nymph underneath a rock, Or Indian genie in the cavern'd earth, Her cell in conchs and coral she had dress'd, By gracious Pamphila supply'd to cheat Time and despair. The loom her patient art Had plied, her own sad story had begun, Now to conclude in joy. The starting youth Beholds his patron, rushes on his breast In transport thus: Redeemer of my peace! Balm of my grief! of happiness my source! My health of mind and body is thy gift. If in his anguish Hyacinthus felt His obligation, in the hour of bliss To what excess must gratitude expand His bosom now! Cleora and my child I owe to thy protection—this is she, This is my goddess, this my light, my joy, Deriv'd from thy humanity. Thou god Of Hyacinthus, tutelary god! Thou from the pit of horror didst upraise My limbs, for ever to its bottom chain'd Without thy helpful hand; without thee death Had been my portion; never had I liv'd To see Cleora, never known this day! But will my gen'ral overlook my fault? Thy soldier, in his subterranean march Tow'rds this retirement, threw a casual glance, Which met Cleora's. Down the shield and spear Dropp'd from my hands disabled; life forsook My heart, which irrecoverably lost All sense of duty both to thee and Greece, By me alone deserted. Bless that chance, Themistocles replies, and leads aside Th' attentive youth. Perhaps these gods ordain'd, In compensation of thy long distress, In recompense of pure and constant love, That to Cleora thou unstain'd with blood, Blood of her father by another slain, Shouldst be restor'd, nor taint with horrors new This thy new hymen. Aeschylus by morn Will sit in judgment righteous, but severe, On each Euboean criminal, the dead Not less than living. Instantly remove To thy Carystian home thy wife and babe; Whate'er can pass in Oreus must offend Her eye and ear. Then turning to the fair: From warlike toils thy consort I dismiss; He, who so nobly signaliz'd his sword In single combat, and the open field, And prov'd his valour equal to his love, All future palms to others may resign. Whatever comforts, time and peace can yield, Are due to both your suff'rings; nor an hour Shalt thou be cloister'd in this rueful cell. Elephenor, discreet and rev'rend man, Let thy kind clue conduct their secret steps. With presents laden, tokens of my love, Cars shall attend them at the cavern's mouth; Thou add thy blessing, that their new-born day May never set in sorrow. Thus the chief, Relax'd from busy care, amid success, Which not a shade of obstacle o'erhangs, Spake, as he felt, remunerating full For all his service Hyacinthus brave.

His knees embracing, thus Cleora spake: I have not utt'rance for my grateful heart; If thou dismiss us never more to see Thy guardian face, our day will set in grief.

In smiles th' Athenian dissipates that fear: Long ere thy husband's magisterial term Is finish'd, I have further still to crave From him as archon, not as soldier, help. This to Carystus would alone direct My footsteps; else amid domestic joys To see thy days illumin'd, precious time Themistocles would borrow from his charge.

Thus in the grateful fair-one he secur'd Another friend, if wanted to support His vast designs, which, gath'ring on his mind, Speed his departure with a kind farewell.

The cars he orders, from the tyrant's stores Rich presents draws, to Aeschylus returns, With him in conf'rence spends remaining day.

Aurora hears Themistocles command Stern proclamation by the trumpet's voice For judgment on the guilty. All in chains The tyrant's hated counsellors are brought, Save Lamachus by faith of treaty safe Bound to Thessalian shores; but chief the sev'n Geraestian ruffians, their assassin heads Hang hopeless down. Amid the widest space In Oreus lofty a tribunal stands, Which Aeschylus ascends, commander high Of troops enroll'd by Athens. So her son Disgrac'd, but courting favour new, devis'd Her democratic jealousy to sooth. The various chieftains, through this glorious war So late distinguish'd, round the solemn seat Conspicuous wait, Themistocles himself At the right hand of Aeschylus. He sits Like Minos sage, whose justice gain'd from Jove Th' appointment awful to condemn, or spare His fellow mortals in the world below.

When now th' accusers and accus'd were heard, Thus spake the warrior-poet: Crimes like these The legislator punishes with death; Let us attempt within our scanty sphere, Far as we may, to imitate the gods In punishment deserv'd. Through those abodes Which Hades governs, long the vulture gnaws; Long is the toil of Sisyphus; to fill Their leaking vases long the murd'rous seed Of Danaus must strive. By labour, pain, And shame continu'd, let flagitious men Long wish to end their suff'rings, not enjoy That wish'd-for period in a single pang. This heavy sentence on assassin heads, On foul, atrocious counsellors of ill, Lo! I pronounce. An ignominious brand Imprint on every forehead; plunge them chain'd, Debas'd by vile impurity of garb, In deep Chalcidian quarries; give them food Just for endurance of continued toil, With daily stripes, that cruelty may feel What she inflicts on others, and, impell'd By desperation, court relief in death. Before the gate of Oreus on a cross Extend the limbs of Demonax; the flesh Let kites deform, let parching air the bones Of that despotic malefactor bleach, Avenging man, and vindicating heav'n. Flow next a strain more pleasing through the ear, A strain delightful to that fav'ring god Who first created laurel to adorn The good and brave. A chaplet from his tree, Ten captives, ten selected suits of arms To ev'ry leader; one Barbarian slave, A sabre, targe, whatever to the field Accouters one Barbarian, I allot To ev'ry soldier. Phoebus will supply His laurel too, encompassing your brows, Ye gen'rous people. But a splendid store Of tripods, urns, and images provide For great Eudora, and th' Eretrian seer, That your triumphal off'ring may emblaze Euboea's fanes; nor less with honours greet Elephenor, your genius of success. Eudora's portion thou, heroic priest, Phoebean Timon, to her presence bear. I need but name Acanthè to attract Your veneration; for Acanthè chuse, Sweet paragon of Chalcis, from your spoils The costly tissue of Barbaric looms, And dazzling gems, that gratitude may vie With obligation. Haliartus, bright In recent glories from a tyrant slain, Thou at her feet the precious tribute lay. For me, if, servant of Cecropia's state, I have upheld her justice and renown, Your approbation is the sole reward Which I solicit, or will bear away On my returning keel. He ceas'd. In roar Surpassing waves, which beat the craggy strand Amidst a tempest, from the gen'ral host Broke forth applause. The mistocles subjoin'd:

Awhile, my friends, your labours I suspend; Go to your homes; to kind, expecting wives Recount your trophies; let your children see Paternal mansions hung with Asian spoils. Remember still, that valour must not sleep; That law restor'd and freedom are not firm While Asia's trumpet sounds a blast in Greece.

Two days elapse; Timoxenus, arriv'd From Chalcis, joyful gratulation brings. Solicitous th' Athenian first enquires Of fair Acanthè's state. The father fond Thus answers: Wasting malady is fled, But hath behind it left indiff'rence cold To ev'ry joy. Thy wife a bracelet sent; These words the bearer Hallartus brought, Charg'd by Timothea elegant and wise. "From me this present when Acanthè takes, "Say, how I prize her elevated mind, "Enabling my Themistocles to quell "The hateful breed of tyrants. Further say, "The man engaging her connubial hand "I should esteem the favorite of heav'n." I heard approving; on the grateful hint A secret hour I chose; my daughter's ear I thus address'd. "My only child and hope, "Shall no sweet offspring cheer a grandsire's age? "Shall my possessions to a stranger pass, "My blood be lost for ever? Shall this war, "Thy work, Acanthè, which a father's love, "In all to thee complying, at thy suit "Commenc'd, produce no here to console "Thy widow'd couch?" "The sacrifice of life, "Of my ideal, or my real peace, "Is due to such a father," she exclaim'd In pious fervour. "Arguments to urge "Against thy plea my age and thine forbid; "But ah! dear parent, my capricious fate "Presents no suitor to thy child's esteem." The Amarynthian priestess, whose controul Surpasses mine, with sternness oft enforc'd My just desire. At length my daughter thus On my departure: "I obey; consult "Themistocles; let him a consort name, "Who best hath serv'd him in this righteous war."

Ne'er yet ill chance, or sorrow, from the son Of Neocles drew tears. His soul reflects On this transcendent fair one, who had chang'd The violence of passion to respect So confidential, dress'd in sweetest grace So far beyond his merits tow'rds a heart Of purest texture, late by him misled To error, now to purity restor'd By native honour. At th' affecting thought He turns those eyes, till then of stedfast look On all events and objects, turns aside To hide their oozing dews; yet soon he spake:

None can I name, but wise Timothea's choice To bear her present, Haliartus brave, Who hath avow'd to Aeschylus and me A veneration for thy matchless child; But he, appointed to a service high, Like Hercules must labour yet to gain The sum of bliss. For three successive moons He must continue mine. The past events In copious strains the hero now rehears'd, Concluding thus: The army I disband; Great Aeschylus for Athens straight embarks; I shall remain in Oreus to compose This troubled city; thou resume thy way; The criminals transported in thy train Lock in the quarries; to Acanthè all Unravel; her and Chalcis too prepare For due reception of that happy man, Whom Jove hath honour'd in a tyrant's death, Whom Juno soon in nuptial ties will bless, And all Euboea to Acanthè sends With tokens rich of public praise and love.

With joy Timoxenus assents; the morn Sees him depart; at Chalcis he arrives, Performing all Themistocles enjoin'd. Now ev'ry temple breathes perfumes; prepar'd Are chosen victims, colonnades and gates With chaplets hung; the garden's flow'ry growth, Each scented produce of luxuriant fields, The maids and matrons bear to welcome home Triumphant warriors. Now th' expected gleams Of armour tinge the champaign's utmost verge; Near and more near the military pomp, At large develop'd o'er the green expanse, Spears, bucklers, helmets, plumes, Barbaric spoils In trophies pil'd on hollow-sounding cars, Grow on the sight. Through Chalcis lies the march; Those in abode the most remote precede.

Geraestian banners first Eudemus shews; With Lampon follow Styra's gallant troop; The Amarynthian and Carystian bands Nicanor leads; th' Eretrians, now become Once more a people, with their wives and race At length redeem'd, to Cleon's orders move. In blooming garlands had the mothers deck'd Their children's heads, whom, tripping through the streets, Spectatress equal to the loftiest scene, Eudora blesses. Sweet Acanthè melts In tears of gladness, while her father nigh Awakes attention to a num'rous train, Her native friends, whom brave Nearchus heads.

These are thy warriors, fondly cries the sire; To whom Eudora: Who is he in state Pontifical, a holy man in arms?

Three hundred Delphians then were passing by, Phoebean branches twisted round their spears. Behind them, lodg'd on axles rolling slow, Were vases, tripods, images and busts, Spoils of the palace Demonax had rais'd.

Thou seest, replies Timoxenus, a form To Phoebus dear, the venerable form Of Timon, priest and soldier. From that car He will descend to kiss thy sacred hand, Before thy feet a precious tribute lay For thy pure goddess, sister of his god. But look, my sweet Acanthè, on the man Themistocles hath chosen to revive My drooping years. Preceded by a troop Of youths, whom Medon, ever kind, hath cull'd From all his Locrian files to grace his friend; Preceded by a trophy, which displays The silver mail of Demonax, his shield, His helm of gold, his variegated arms, And spear in length ten cubits, which upholds The tyrant's head, his victor meets our eyes, Th' illustrious son of Lygdamis. She cast Not an impassion'd, but revering glance On one, whose might victorious had dissolv'd Euboean thraldom, one of noble frame, In feature comely, and in look serene, Whom her sole guide, the all controlling son Of Neocles, had destin'd for her lord. Her dream recurs; the tyrant's head she sees; Th' exploit sublime, though not by him achiev'd, Whom partial fancy on her pillow shew'd, Her ever-wakeful loftiness of mind Admires impartial, and applauds the hand Which dealt the glorious blow. Her awful brow The priestless softens to a smile, and thus:

Is this suitor, whom my hero chose For bright Acanthè? Favour'd by the gods, Themistocles in ev'ry action proves He cannot err. Acanthè hears, and press'd By duty's insurmountable controul, Aw'd by Eudora's majesty austere, Resolves to meet him with becoming grace, But of his virtue make one trial more.

The Delphian priest and Haliartus quit Their chariots; them Timoxenus receives To his rich mansion and a sumptuous board. Eudora there, with curious eyes and voice, Explores and questions oft the Carian brave. His Delphian friend, observing, in these words Besought him: O, distinguish'd by the gods! Who have in thee their care of virtue shewn, Since from Euboea thou must soon depart, Lose not the present hour. These matchless dames Must hear thy wond'rous narrative at large; For singular thy fortunes with events Are interwoven to delight the ear, Affect the heart, and win th' applauding tongue; That all may honour thy desert supreme Like me, so much thy debtor. Straight complies The modest Carian; list'ning silence reigns.

In native windings from his Lydian fount As various flow'd Maeander, here along A level champaign, daisy-painted meads, Or golden fields of Ceres, here through woods In green arcades projecting o'er his banks, There shut in rock, which irritates the stream, Here by low hamlets, there by stately towns, Till he attained the rich Magnesian seat; Thence with augmented fame and prouder floods Roll'd down his plenteous tribute to the main: So through the mazes of his fortune winds In artless eloquence th' expressive strain Of Haliartus, from his peasant state To scenes heroic. Humble still in mind, Compell'd to follow truth's historic clue, He ends in glory, which his blushes grace; Nor less they grace these frank and manly words, Which to Acanthè singly he directs:

Such as I am, thou elevated fair, Who hast Euboea's liberty restor'd, Her grateful off'rings to thy feet I bring; With them an humble suppliant to thy smile, That he may rank thy soldier, in thy name His own distinguish, and, achieving well The task by great Themistocles impos'd, Deserve Acanthè's favour. She replies With virtuous art: Can soldiers never know Satiety of fame? must her career Be still beginning, never be complete? Must ev'ry passion yield to thirst of praise? Should I request thee, wouldst thou for my sake Thy new attempt relinquish, to enjoy Thy ample portion of acquir'd renown In peace at Chalcis? Haliartus then:

Not love of fame, which oft'ner frowns than smiles, Not victory, nor spoil inflate my breast All unaspiring. Sense of duty pure, Of obligation, which I owe to Greece, Themistocles, and Medon, rules supreme Within my soul. O first of mortal fair, Thou of his peace thy servant might'st deprive; But, wert thou fairer than the Paphian queen, In each excelling art like Pallas skill'd, Her paragon in wisdom, thy request Should thus be answer'd from a bleeding heart: To my performance of the trust repos'd The only bar is fate. Astonish'd gaz'd Timoxenus; nor knew the timid sire That his Acanthè's breast then first conceiv'd A spark of passion, but a spark divine, Such as for heroes goddesses have felt; As Thetis glow'd for Peleus. Thus the fair:

O most deserving of that hero's choice, To which alone Acanthè left her fate! Weigh'd in the balance, nor deficient found, Thou more than worthy of a hand like mine! Go, but return; triumphantly return Lord of Acanthè; of my truth unchang'd Accept this pledge. She gave, he kiss'd her hand. Eudora's vestment, while the solemn scene Her looks approv'd, with fervent lips he touch'd; Then, clasping glad Timoxenus, retir'd To hoist his canvass in the morning gale.