Book V

Amid the van of Persia was a youth
Nam'd Teribazus, not for golden stores,
Not for wide pastures travers'd o'er with herds,
With bleating thousands, or with bounding steeds,
Nor yet for pow'r, nor splendid honours fam'd.
Rich was his mind in ev'ry art divine,
And through the paths of science had he walk'd
The votary of wisdom. In the years,
When tender down invests the ruddy cheek,
He with the Magi turn'd the hallow'd page
Of Zoroastres; then his tow'ring soul
High on the plumes of contemplation soar'd,
And from the lofty Babylonian fane
With learn'd Chaldaeans trac'd the mystic sphere;
There number'd o'er the vivid fires, that gleam
Upon the dusky bosom of the night.
Nor on the sands of Ganges were unheard
The Indian sages, from sequester'd bow'rs
While, as attention wonder'd, they disclos'd
The pow'rs of nature; whether in the woods,
The fruitful glebe, or flow'r, or healing plant,
The limpid waters, or the ambient air,
Or in the purer element of fire.
The fertile plains, where great Sesostris reign'd,
Mysterious Aegypt next the youth survey'd,
From Elephantis, where impetuous Nile
Precipitates his waters, to the sea,
Which far below receives the sev'nfold stream.
Thence o'er th' Ionic coast he stray'd, nor pass'd
Milétus by, which once inraptur'd heard
The tongue of Thales, nor Priene's walls,
Where Wisdom dwelt with Bias, nor the seat
Of Pittacus along the Lesbian shore.
Here too melodious numbers charm'd his ear,
Which flow'd from Orpheus, and Musaeus old,
And thee, O father of immortal verse,
Maeonides, whose strains through ev'ry age
Time with his own eternal lip shall sing.
Back to his native Susa then he turn'd
His wandring steps. His merit soon was dear
To Hyperanthes generous and good.
And Ariana from Darius sprung
With Hyperanthes, of th' imperial race,
Which rul'd th' extent of Asia, in disdain
Of all her greatness oft an humble ear
To him would bend, and listen to his voice.
Her charms, her mind, her virtue he explor'd
Admiring. Soon was admiration chang'd
To love, nor lov'd he sooner, than despair'd.
But unreveal'd and silent was his pain;
Nor yet in solitary shades he roam'd,
Nor shun'd resort: but o'er his sorrows cast
A sickly dawn of gladness, and in smiles
Conceal'd his anguish; while the secret flame
Rag'd in his bosom, and its peace consum'd:
His heart still brooding o'er these mournful thoughts.

CAN I, O wisdom, seek relief from thee,
Who dost approve my passion? From the pow'r
Of beauty only thou wouldst guard my heart.
But here thyself art charm'd, where softness, grace,
And ev'ry virtue dignify desire;
Yet thus to love despairing is to prove
The sharpest sorrow, which relentless Fate
Can from her store of woes inflict on life:
But dost not thou this moment warn my soul
To fly the fatal charmer? Do I pause?
Back to the wise Chaldaeans will I go,
Or wander on the Ganges; where to heav'n
With thee my elevated soul shall tow'r,
With thee the secrets of the earth unveil.
There no tumultuous passion shall molest
My tranquil hours, and ev'ry thought be calm.
O wretched Teribazus! all conspires
Against thy peace. Our mighty lord prepares
To overwhelm the Grecians. Ev'ry youth
Attends the war, and I, who late have poiz'd
With no inglorious arm the soldier's lance,
And near the side of Hyperanthes fought,
Must join the throng. How therefore can I fly
From Ariana! who with Asia's queens
The splendid camp of Xerxes will adorn.
Then be it so. Again I will adore
Her gentle virtue. Her delightful tongue,
Her graceful sweetness shall again diffuse
Resistless magic through my ravish'd heart;
And thus when love with double rage inflam'd
Swells to distraction in my tortur'd breast,
Then—But in vain through darkness do I search
My fate: despair and fortune be my guides.

THE hour arriv'd, when Xerxes first advanc'd
His arms from Susa's gates. The Persian dames
(So were accustom'd all the eastern fair)
In sumptuous cars accompanied his march;
And Ariana grac'd the beauteous train.
From morn till ev'ning Teribazus guards
Her passing wheels; his arm her weight sustains
With trembling pleasure often, as she mounts
Th' imperial chariot; his assiduous hand
From each pure fountain wafts the living flood:
Nor seldom by the fair-one's soft command
Would he repose him at her feet reclin'd,
While o'er his lips her lovely forehead bow'd
Won with his grateful eloquence, that sooth'd
With sweet variety the tedious march,
Beguiling time. He too would then forget
His cares awhile, in raptures vain intranc'd,
Delusion all, and fleeting rays of joy
Soon overcast with more intense despair;
Like wintry clouds, which op'ning for a time
Tinge their black skirts with scatter'd beams of day;
Then swiftly closing, on the brows of Morn
Condense their horrours, and in thickest gloom
The ruddy beauty veil. Such woes oppress'd
The Persian's heart, not soften'd; for this day
His daring valour from the bleeding van
Oppos'd the frown of adamantine Mars.
With no tiara were his temples bound,
The slender lance of Asia he disdain'd,
And her light target. Eminent he mov'd
In Grecian arms the wonder of his foes.
Among th' Ionians had his strenuous limbs
In war been practic'd. A resplendent cask
Flam'd on his head. Before his face and chest
Down to the knees his ample shield was spread.
A pond'rous ash with skillful hands he grasp'd.
Thus arm'd, tremendous in the front he stood.
Beneath his might two bold Phliasians died,
And three Tegeans, whose indignant chief,
Brave Hegesander, vengeance breath'd in vain
With streaming wounds repuls'd. Thus far unmatch'd
His strength prevail'd, when Hyperanthes' voice
Recall'd his fainting legions. Now each band
Their languid courage reinforc'd with rest.
Meantime with Teribazus thus confer'd
The godlike prince. Thou much-deserving youth!
O had thy deeds with emulation warm'd
The frozen hearts of Persia, Greece had wept
Her prostrate ranks, not triumph'd in our shame.
Relaxing now the wearied fight I wait,
Till from the camp with Abradates strong
The brave Pharnuchus and Mazaeus move,
And with fresh pow'rs renew the drooping war.
For since surpass'd in valour, we must waste
By endless numbers, and continual toil
The matchless ardour of our gallant foes.

HE said. Immers'd in sadness scarce replied,
But to himself thus plain'd the am'rous youth.

STILL do I languish mourning o'er the fame,
My arm acquires. O wretched heart! thou seat
Of constant sorrow, what deceitful smiles
Yet canst thou borrow from illusive hope
To flatter life. At Ariana's feet
What if with supplicating knees I bow'd,
Implor'd her pity, and reveal'd my love?
Wretch, canst thou climb to yon effulgent orb,
And share the splendours which irradiate heav'n?
Dost thou aspire to that exalted maid,
Great Xerxes' sister, rivalling the hopes
Of Asia's purpled potentates and kings?
Unless within her bosom I inspir'd
A passion fervent as my own, nay more,
Such as might dissipate each virgin fear,
And unrestrain'd disclose its fond desire,
My hopes are fruitless. Plung'd in black despair
He thus revolv'd, when suddenly the cries
Of Aribaeus smote his pensive ear.
By mutual danger, and by friendship join'd,
They had been long companions in the toils
Of war. Together with victorious steps
The sons of Nile they chas'd, when Aegypt's pride
Before the arms of Hyperanthes fell.
Stretch'd on the plain, and cover'd o'er with wounds,
By all abandon'd, Teribazus views
His gallant friend. His languid soul awakes,
And forth he issues from the Persian line.
The bleeding warriour in his strong embrace
Swift he conveys. By indignation fir'd
Fierce from the Grecians Diophantus rush'd
With loud defiance. Teribazus leaves
His rescu'd friend. His massy targe he rears,
Advances high his formidable spear,
And turns intrepid on th' approaching foe.
Amazement follow'd. On he strode, and shook
The plumed honours of his shining crest.
Th' ill-fated Greek awaits th' unequal fight;
Pierc'd in the throat with sounding arms he falls;
Through ev'ry band the Mantinéans mourn.
Upon the slain the victor fix'd his sight,
And thus reflected. By thy splendid arms
Thou art a Greek of no ignoble rank,
And from thy fall perhaps am I adorn'd
With more conspicuous lustre. What if heav'n
Should add new victims, like thyself, to grace
My undeserving hand, who knows, but she
Might smile upon my trophies. Oh! vain thought!
Disperse ye fantome hopes! Too long, my heart,
Hast thou in vain contended with thy woes!
I stand this moment on the verge of life,
By fame invited, by despair impell'd
To pass th' irremeable bound. No more
Shall Teribazus backward turn his steps,
But here decide his fate. Then beat no more,
Thou troubled heart, and ev'ry grief be still
Now at th' approach of everlasting peace.

HE ended, when a mighty foe drew nigh;
Not less than Dithyrambus. E'er they join'd,
The Persian thus the Thespian youth address'd.

SAY, art not thou th' unconquerable Greek,
Whose dauntless valour mow'd our battle down,
And scatter'd nations? To attempt thy force
This day I purpos'd, when our chiefs from fight
Their host withdrew? That now my single arm
Thou deign'st to meet, receive my thanks; and know,
The thought of conquest less employs my mind,
Than that by thee I cannot fall with shame.

HE ceas'd. These words the Thespian chief return'd.
Of all the praises from thy gen'rous mouth
The only share, which justice bids me claim,
Is, that I here adventure to confront
Thy matchless strength. Believe not, that unmark'd
Were thy great deeds. From you unbounded camp
None yet hath equall'd thy victorious hand.
But whence thy armour of the Grecian form?
Whence thy tall spear? thy helmet? whence the weight
Of that strong shield unlike thy eastern friends?
O if thou be'st some fugitive, who, lost
To liberty and virtue, art become
A tyrant's vile stipendiary; with grief
That valour, thus triumphant, I behold,
Which after all its danger, and brave toil
Deserves no honour from the Gods, or men.

HERE Teribazus with a sigh return'd.
I am to Greece a stranger, and a wretch
To thee unknown, who seek, this hour, to die;
Though not ignobly, but in death to raise
My name from darkness, while I end my woes.

THE Grecian then. I view thee, and I mourn.
A dignity, which virtue only bears,
And resolution on thy brow enthron'd
(Though grief hath dim'd thy drooping eye) demand
My veneration; and whatever be
The malice of thy fortune, what the cares,
Which thus infest thy quiet, they create
Within my breast the pity of a friend:
Why hast thou then compell'd me to oppose
My arm against thee, while thy might supports
Th' unjust ambition of malignant kings,
The foes to virtue, liberty, and peace?
Yet free from rage, or enmity I lift
My adverse javelin. Victory I ask,
Thy life may fate for happier hours reserve.

THIS said, their beaming lances they protend,
Of hostile hate, or fury both devoid;
As on the Isthmian, or Olympic sand
For fame alone contending. Either host
Pois'd on their spears in silent wonder gaz'd.
The fight begins, when soon the Grecian lance,
Which all the day in constant battle worn
Unnumber'd shields and corselets had transfix'd,
Against the Persian target, shiv'ring breaks,
Its master's hand disarming. Then began
The sense of honour, and the dread of shame
To swell in Dithyrambus. Undismay'd
He grapples with the foe, and instant seiz'd
The threatning javelin, e'er th'uplifted arm
Could execute the meditated wound.
The weapon burst betwixt their struggling hands.
They loose their grasp, and bare their shining swords.
With equal swiftness to defend, or charge,
Each active youth advances, or recedes.
On ev'ry side they traverse, now direct,
Obliquely now the wheeling blades descend.
Still is the conflict dubious, when the Greek
Dissembling points his falchion to the earth,
His arm depress'd, as overcome with toil;
While with his buckler cautious he repels
The blows repeated from th' exulting foe.
Greece trembles for her hero. Joy pervades
The Asian ranks, and Hyperanthes strides
Before the line, preparing to receive
His friend triumphant. Teribazus now
Press'd with redoubled efforts. Still the Greek
Sustains th' assault defensive, and at last,
As with unguarded fury of his strokes
Th' unwary Persian sideways swung his targe,
The fatal moment Dithyrambus watch'd,
And darting forward with his feet outstretch'd
His falchion buries in th' obnoxious side.
Affection, grief, and terrour wing the speed
Of Hyperanthes. From his bleeding foe
The Greek retires, not distant, and awaits
The eastern prince. But he with wat'ry cheeks,
And dumb with sorrow clasps his dying friend,
From whose cold lip with interrupted phrase
These accents broke. O dearest, best of men!
My heart is fruitful with ten thousand thoughts
Of gratitude and love to thee; but fate
Denies my voice the utt'rance. O my friend!
O Hyperanthes! hear my tongue unfold.
What thou shouldst ne'er have known before this hour;
When, as I open all my secret soul,
I may at once retire, and veil my eyes
In endless night: nor thou presumption deem
What with my dying breath I here divulge.
I love thy sister. With despair I lov'd,
And thence perhaps untimely is my date;
Though, witness heav'n, without regret I bleed
With honour thus in Persia's sight and thine.

HE ceas'd: th' inexorable hand of Fate
Weigh'd down his eyelids, and the gloom of death
His fleeting sight eternally o'ershades.
Him on Choaspes o'er the blooming verge
His frantic mother shall bewail, and strew
Her silver tresses in the crystal tide;
While all the shore re-echoes to the name
Of Teribazus lost. Th' afflicted prince
The pallid corse contemplating with tears,
Thus in the bitterness of grief exclaims.

OH! Teribazus. Oh! my friend, whose loss
I will deplore for ever. Oh! what pow'r
To me and thee averse thus clos'd thy breast
To Hyperanthes with distrust unkind.
She should, she must have lov'd thee. Now no more
Thy friendly aspect shall delight my eyes,
While in remembrance thy unequall'd worth
Will live for ever to remind my grief
Of what I lost. O Susa, if again
Thee I revisit from this hostile land,
Far from the clamours of tumultuous war,
Then shall my hours be vacant to complaint,
Whole years shalt thou be witness, while I mourn,
And Ariana shall assist my woes.
Let fiercest vengeance now possess my soul.

HE said, and ardent rushes on the Greek,
Who, while his noble enemy expir'd,
And Hyperanthes snatch'd with tender arms
The last embraces from his gasping friend,
Stood near reclin'd in sadness o'er his shield,
And in the pride of victory repin'd,
Nor mark'd his threatning foe: when swift approach'd
Diomedon. Before the Thespian youth
Aloft he rais'd his targe, and loudly thus.

HOLD thee, Barbarian, from a life more worth,
Than thee, and Xerxes, with his host of slaves.

HIS words he seconds with his rapid lance.
Soon a tremendous conflict had ensu'd,
But Intaphernes, Mindus, and the half
Of Persia's leaders anxious for the life
Of Hyperanthes pour'd with all their bands
Betwixt th' encountring chiefs. With mutual wrath
They strove in vain the combat to renew.
So rage two bulls upon th' opposing banks
Of some deep flood, which parts the fruitful mead;
Defiance thunders from their angry mouths
In vain; in vain the furrow'd earth they rend:
Wide rolls the stream, and intercepts the war.
The fierce Plataean satiates his revenge
On vulgar lives. Before his dreaded arm
Whole ranks are scatter'd. But the Persian prince
Borne down the stress of battle gains the shore,
Where then the brave Abrocomes advanc'd;
With him Orontes and Pharnuchus stood,
Mazaeus, Abradates fam'd in arms,
And all the boldest of the eastern chiefs
Begirt with fresh battalions: here with speed
Abrocomes his brother thus bespake.

TO Intaphernes is Pandates sent
With charge to harrass in perpetual fight
The Grecians next the mountains. Thou with me
And these unite thy valour. Here the flow'r
Of all our army is together drawn,
Here all the weight of battle will impend.
He said. The godlike Hyperanthes seeks
The dang'rous van. He heads the splendid throng
Of satraps, princes, and imperial pow'rs;
Themselves the lords of nations, who before
The throne of Xerxes tributary bow'd.
Now mix'd the war. Th' inverted javelins gleam
From ev'ry part, and fell Bellona roars.

WHO first distain'd with Persian blood his sword?
Eupalamus. Artembares he slew
And Derdas fierce, whom Caucasus had rear'd
On its tempestuous brow, the savage sons
Of violence and rapine; but their doom
Great Hyperanthes marks: his angry lance
Arrests the victor in his haughty course.
Beneath the strong Abrocomes o'erwhelm'd,
Melissus swells the number of the dead.
None could Mycenae boast of prouder birth
Than young Melissus; blooming, as the son
Of Maia, all in radiant arms he grac'd
The front of battle; he in Cirrha's vale,
Where high Parnassus from its double top
O'ershades the Pythian games, the envied prize
Of fame obtain'd: low sinks his laurell'd head
In death's cold night, and horrid gore deforms
His graceful locks. Impatient for revenge
Aristobulus strides before the van.
A storm of fury darkens all his brow.
Around he rolls his gloomy eye, and marks
Achaemenes for death, of regal blood
Deriv'd from Croesus, once th' imperial lord
Of nations; him the nymphs of Halys wept,
When with delusive oracles beguil'd
By Delphi's God, he pass'd their fatal waves
A mighty empire to dissolve: nor knew
Th' ill-destin'd king, that envious Fortune watch'd
That dreadful moment from his hand to wrest
The scepter of his fathers. In the shade
Of humble life his race on Tmolus' brow
Lay hid, 'till rous'd to battle here his breath
Achaemenes resigns. Then Lycis bled
For horrid war ill-chosen. He was skill'd
To tune the lulling flute, and melt the heart;
Or with his pipe's awak'ning strains invite
The lovely dames of Lydia to the dance:
They graceful o'er the verdant level mov'd
In varied measures, while the cooling breeze
Beneath their swelling garments wanton'd o'er
Their snowy breasts, and smooth Cayster's wave
Soft-gliding murmur'd by. His op'ning chest
Pours forth his entrails, and supine he falls.
Not long the Grecian triumphs. From the slain
In all the pride of conquest as he rends
His reeking javelin, Hyperanthes' steel
His knee invades, and bursts the sinewy cords.
The Mycenaeans with uplifted shields,
Corinthians, and Phliasians gather round
The wounded Grecian. With redoubled rage
The conflict glows. Abrocomes incites
Each Persian leader; all obey his voice;
Here Abradates, there Mazaeus press'd,
Orontes, and Hydarnes; none retire
From toil, or peril: urg'd on ev'ry side
The Greeks at length th' abandon'd chief resign.
Despairing, raging, destitute he stands
Propt on his spear; his wound forbids retreat.
None, but his brother Eumenes, abide
The dire extremity. His shield defends
The fainting chief, till Hyperanthes' sword
Full on his arm its dreadful weight discharg'd.
Down with the buckler drops the sever'd hand,
Nor quits its grasp. Now sink the wretched pair
Beneath the Persian's unresisted steel:
From both their breasts the vital currents flow,
And mix their streams. Elate the Persians roll
Their deepning legions on the foes dismay'd.
The Greeks their station painfully maintain.
This soon the faithless Anaxander saw,
When thus to Leontiades he spake.

THIS is the time to aid our Persian friends.
Behold the Greeks are press'd. Let Thebes retire,
And yield a bloodless conquest to the king.

THE Thebans streight desert the broken line
Not with unpunish'd treachery; the spears
Of fierce Orontes, and Pharnuchus join'd
With Mindus gor'd their shameful flight, and thin'd
Their bleeding files. Meantime, as he who rul'd
Than Jove more antient on the throne of heav'n,
When from the womb of Chaos dark the world
Emerg'd to birth, where'er he view'd the jar
Of atoms yet discordant and unform'd,
Confusion thence with pow'rful voice dispell'd,
Till light and order universal reign'd;
So from the wall Leonidas explor'd
The various war. He saw the Theban rout,
That Corinth, Phlius, and Mycenae look'd
Affrighted backward; instantly he charg'd
The sons of Lacedaemon to repair
The disunited phalanx. E'er they move
Dieneces inspires them. Fame, my friends,
Calls forth your valour in a signal hour;
For you this glorious period she reserv'd
To vindicate the Spartan name. He spake.
On either side supported by the might
Of Agis and of Alpheus he conducts
His gen'rous troop, who riveting their shields
In dense array indissolubly firm
Confront the Persians, and with death repulse
Their scatter'd numbers; when with efforts vain
They oft renew'd the contest, and recoil'd
As oft confounded with diminish'd ranks,
Thus Hyperanthes counsell'd. Learn, O chiefs,
From whence alone success can grace our arms.
These are a band selected from the Greeks,
Unlike the others, whom we lately chas'd;
Perhaps the Spartans, whom we oft have heard
By Demaratus prais'd. To break their line
False is the hope, while unarray'd, and lax,
And wanting union singly we assail
Their strength collected. Do not we preside
O'er Asia's myriads, and our valour boast,
And martial arts above the vulgar herd?
Let us, ye chiefs, attempt in order'd ranks
To join our force, and emulate the foe.

THEY wait not dubious. Soon a dreadful line
From Oeta's mountain to the shore extends,
Compos'd of all the leaders, Mindus bold,
Pharnuchus, and Mazaeus, and the strength
Of fierce Abrocomes, with each, who bore
The highest honours, and excell'd in war.
To these succeed a chosen number drawn
From those, whom Asia boasts her bravest sons,
Who from their king perpetual stipends share;
And station'd round his provinces by arms
His tyranny sustain. In ev'ry part
Is Hyperanthes seen with active care
To form the huge battalion. Soon they stand
In just array, when cautious, lest their march
Might still relax their order, Persia's prince
Amid the center of the foremost rank
Orontes plac'd, committing to his hand
Th' imperial standard; whose expanded folds
Glow'd in the air, presenting to the sun
The richest dye of Tyre: the royal bird
Amid the gorgeous tincture shone exprest
In flaming gold. On this the eastern chief
Commands each Persian station'd in the front
To turn his eyes regardful, and to guide
His slow and equal feet by this alone
Retiring, or advancing. Next he charg'd,
That ev'ry warriour through the num'rous files,
Observing none but those before him rang'd,
Should watch their motions, and their steps pursue.
Close by the standard then th' intrepid chief
His post assumes, and animates the band.

ILLUSTRIOUS warriours, whose unconquer'd arms
Rebellious Aegypt, and the Libyan felt,
Think what the splendour of your former deeds
From you demands; remember, from the great
Heroic actions are a debt to fame.
No middle course remains for them to tread,
Whom she hath once ennobled; and this hour
Or with fresh trophies will enlarge your praise,
Or will for ever with dishonour blast.

THE hero said, and all to fight proceed.
As when tempestuous Eurus stems the weight
Of western Neptune struggling through the straits,
Which bound Alcides' labours; here the storm
With rapid wing reverberates the tide,
There the contending surge with furrow'd tops
To mountains swells, and whelming o'er the beach
On either coast invests with hoary foam
The Mauritanian and Iberian strand:
Not with less rage in hideous onset meet
The Grecians and Barbarians. These preserve
Their formost ranks unbroken, where was drawn
The prime of Asia's warriours; and the croud,
Though still promiscuous pouring from behind,
Yet added pressure to th' imbattled chiefs
With endless numbers. Like the mural strength
Of some proud city bulwark'd round, and arm'd
With rising tow'rs to guard her wealthy stores;
Immoveable, impenetrable stood
The serried phalanx of the Greeks. Behind,
Their country spread, their fields with plenty crown'd,
Their native walls and habitations lay
With each dear pledge of friendship and of love.
High in the Persian van th' exalted lance
Of Hyperanthes flam'd. Beside him press'd
Abrocomes, Hydarnes, and the bulk
Of Abradates terrible in war.
And here the great Dieneces upheld
His shield's expanded surface, and alone
Firm, as a Memphian pyramid, sustain'd
The stress of thousands. Alpheus here unmov'd,
And Agis there connect their spacious orbs,
With Menalippus wise Megisthias' heir
In one impervious line. Long time the hosts
Maintain in strong and unrelax'd array
The conflict undecided; nor could Greece
Repel the adverse numbers, nor the force
Of Asia's myriads could remove the Greeks.

BUT now from Sparta's king, who soon discern'd
The Persian's new arrangement, Medon hastes,
Th' illustrious chief of Locris, from the race
Of Ajax sprung in Trojan fields renown'd:
To wife Dieneces he thus began.

LEONIDAS commands the Grecian line
To yield before the Persians, and with speed
To measure back some paces. Soon, he deems,
The unexperienc'd foe in wild pursuit
Will break their order. Then the charge renew;
Let Agis, join'd with Alpheus, from the line
Rush with Laconia's troop imbattled deep,
And force a passage through the Barb'rous host;
Thou with a strong battalion from the sons
Of Locris drawn must follow swift, and reach
The Spartans led by Agis; with the rest
Of Locris' youth shall I advance to fill
Your vacant station, and the line maintain;
While in the narrow entrance, where the pass
Looks o'er the Malian plain on Persia's camp,
Do thou arrange to intercept the foe,
Should Asia pour fresh succours from her tents:
Then Xerxes soon the slaughter shall deplore
Of all these thousands in the straits inclos'd
For sure destruction; and the Gods of Greece
Behold their temples with profusion grac'd
Of splendid off'rings from Barbarian spoils
Won by their free-born supplicants this day.

THIS heard, Dieneces obedient gave
Through ev'ry band the signal of retreat,
When all at once drew backward. Persia stop'd,
As with amazement rooted to the earth
At unexpected conquest; 'till the voice
Of fierce Abrocomes their minds awakes
With these triumphant accents. By the sun
They fly before us. My victorious friends,
Delay you then to enter Greece? Away,
Rush on undaunted. I already hear,
Our horse and chariots thund'ring o'er their plains,
And view their towns involv'd in Persian fires.

HE said. With hurried violence they roll
Tumultuous forward. All with headlong pace
Wide from their ranks expatiate in pursuit,
Disjoin their order, and the line dissolve.
This when the sage Dieneces descries,
The Grecians halt returning to the charge
With sudden onset. In a moment, pierc'd
By Lacedaemon's chief, Orontes falls,
And quits th' imperial banner; this the Greek
In triumph waves, and gives the dreadful sign.
At once with Agis tow'ring in the front,
And rapid Alpheus all Laconia's band
In deep arrangement bursting from the line
Bear down with irresistible career
The eastern legions, shatter'd and o'erturn'd
With all their standards trampled on the plain.
As the swift vessel, when a rising gale
Distends the canvass, its resistless course
Impells through millions of opposing waves;
Through the Barbarian multitudes so pierc'd
The Spartan wedge. Invincible o'er hills
Of arms, and mangled corses they impress
Their crimson footsteps. Persia's bravest chiefs,
Ev'n Hyperanthes from the line is driv'n;
And flying thousands through the pass are swept
Before the Spartans. With a Locrian troop
Of hideous depth Dieneces pursues
His conqu'ring friends, and hews his purple way
Through Asia's numbers, which again were clos'd
In vain: himself unconquerable leads
Destruction on, and heaps the rock with death.
But on the broken foe what ruin falls
From Alpheus' sword? O'er all in swift pursuit
Was he renown'd. His rapid feet had match'd
The son of Peleus in the dusty course,
Or had he run for Atalanta's love,
He had rejected Cytheraea's aid;
Nor of her swiftness to beguile the fair
Before her steps had thrown the golden balls.
But now the wrongs, the long-remember'd wrongs
Of Polydorus animate his strength
With tenfold vigour; guided by revenge
His falchion reddens with Barbarian blood;
The gory drops besprinkled all his shield,
Like crimson poppies o'er the yellow plain.
As when with horrour wing'd a whirlwind rends
A shatter'd navy; from the ocean cast,
Th' enormous fragments hide the sandy beach:
Thus o'er the rock the Persians lay bestrewn
By Alpheus raging in the swift pursuit.
Not with severer pangs the God of day
The Theban queen afflicted, when incens'd
With her proud vaunts he hurl'd her blooming race
From youth and beauty to the pale abodes;
Than now distracted Hyperanthes' soul,
As round him, bleeding by the Spartan's lance,
His noblest friends lay gasping. Oft he strove
To turn his flying legions, oft the fight
With Abradates and his brother's force
Renews, against insuperable foes
In vain repugnant; till by all around
Deserted, mixing with the gen'ral rout
He yields to fortune, and the field forsakes.
So with relapsing waves the ebbing tide
Beats for a time against the shelving strand,
Still by degrees retiring, and at last
Within the bosom of the main subsides.

NOW at Thermopylae's extremest bound
The Spartans check'd their progress. Soon approach'd
Dieneces, and thus began. Behold,
What numbers have we pass'd of Perfia's sons.
Be swift, my friends, and form. He said, and fill'd
The narrow straits with order'd files, a depth
Of fifty warriours; half on Asia's host,
Half tow'rd the pass were turn'd, a double front,
Where ev'ry rank with twenty javelins flam'd.
The Locrian band to Agis is assign'd,
Who stands prepar'd to stop the flying foes;
Dieneces himself to Persia's camp
Presents the terrours of the Spartan steel.

NOW, Muse, the wond'rous stratagem display,
Which Sparta's hero, whose presiding care
Mark'd all the great vicissitudes of fight,
And rul'd the course of slaughter, had conceiv'd
To whelm the num'rous, long-resisting foe
In hideous death, and signalize the day
With horrours new to war. As o'er the wall,
His constant station, darting through the straits
His watchful eye, e'er yet the battle clos'd,
He view'd the hostile myriads swarming down,
And nations still succeeding from the camp
Immense, exhaustless, by an horrid length
Of clust'ring helms, and shields, and threatning spears
Join'd to the Grecian van; the wary chief,
Lest by the long-protracted fight his Greeks
Might yield o'erlabour'd, from the Locrians chose
A thousand warriours. These by Maron led
Ascend the mountain, which o'erhung the pass.
His charge he soon reveals. A thousand hands
At once with restless pains assemble stones
Of hugest bulk, and wither'd trunks uptorn
In elder times by whirlwinds from the grove.
Unwearied then they loosen from the rocks
Broad, craggy fragments; from the mountain hew'd
Its venerable firs, and aged oaks
Of wide circumference, and knotted strength,
Which of their branches by the lightning bared,
Presented still against its blasting flame
Their hoary pride unshaken. These the Greeks
Roll heavy on, with massy leavers heave,
Or drag with strong-knit cables, till they reach,
Where o'er the Persian multitudes inclin'd
The mountain's edge; so lofty, that the voice
Of war below there lost its deafning roar,
And soften'd into murmurs. Still his post,
Though Hyperanthes from the field was driv'n,
With thronging numbers Intaphernes bold
Beneath the shade of this incumbent hill
Against the fierce Diomedon maintain'd;
Great Intaphernes, progeny of kings,
Whom o'er Damascus, and the Syrian palms
Had Xerxes seated with despotic sway
His substitute. This Maron from on high
Surveys, and gives the signal; downward sinks
The nodding pile, stupendous heap of death!
Trees roll'd on trees with mingled rock descend,
Unintermitted ruin. Loud resound
The hollow trunks against the mountain's side,
Swift bounds each craggy mass. The foes beneath
Look up aghast, with horrour shrink, and die;
Whole legions crush'd beneath the dreadful heaps
Lie hid and lost, as never they had known
A name, or being; while around them grew
A hill of ruin. Numbers still survive,
Who shun destruction with impetuous flight;
But Agis stops them: Intaphernes falls
Before his thund'ring arm. Again they turn
To meet resistless ruin. From behind
With twice two hundred Locrians Agis pours.

MEANTIME the Grecian line (so Sparta's king
Decreed) had left its station, and beyond
The heaps of dreadful carnage was advanc'd;
There, stretch'd from Oeta to the Malian bay,
The Locrians led by Medon had dispos'd,
With Corinth, Phlius and Mycenae's train
Their hostile phalanx o'er the less'ning pass.
Along the mountain's side Plataea's troop,
The Mantinéans, and Tegaeans stood,
An horrid length of war. Th' unwearied swords
Of Dithyrambus and Diomedon
Still blaz'd the terrour of the Barb'rous host.
Before them fled the Persians to the shore,
All in a moment by the various bands
Of Greece surrounded. From the gulph profound
Perdition here inevitable frowns,
And there, incircled by a grove of spears,
They stand devoted hecatombs to Mars.
Now not a moment's interval delays
Their gen'ral doom, but down the Malian steep
Prone are they hurried to th' expanded arms
Of Horrour rising from the op'ning deep,
And grasping all their numbers, as they fall.
The dire confusion, like a storm, invades
The chafing billows; loud resounds the shore:
And o'er whole troops by fell Bellona roll'd
In one vast ruin from the craggy ridge,
O'er all their arms and ensigns deep ingulph'd,
With hideous roar the surge for ever clos'd.