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An April zephyr, with reviving sweets
From gay Eubœa's myrtle-border'd meads,
Perfumes his breath, scarce ruffling in his course
The pearly robe of morn. A ready skiff
The Carian hero mounts; the gale, though soft,
To him is adverse. From a rapid keel
Of Oreus, lo! Sicinus lifts a sign
Of salutation. Haliartus joins
The faithful man, and joyfully relates
His acquisition of Acanthé's hand.
To good Sicinus grateful sounds the tale,
Who thus replies: To Athens I proceed.
No sooner march'd the warriors to their homes,
Than, disengag'd from public care, my lord
Address'd me thus: Sicinus, spread the sail.
To Athens fly; my wife and offspring waft
To my embraces; that, while gentle rest
Remits the labours of my limbs disarm'd,
I with Timothea, she with me, may share
The past success, and taste of present joy.
Thee, Haliartus, she esteems; thy fame,
Exploits and fortune will augment her bliss.
But of this friendly gale a moment more
I must not lose. His vessel sails along;
The other slowly with laborious strokes
Of oars contends for passage, till broad noon
Flames on the laurell'd poops and colours gay
Of Athens and Trœzene; on whose decks,
Emblaz'd with spoils, and trophies, Phœbus pours
His whole effulgence. Back to Attic strands
They steer in view. To fifes and trumpets clear
From ev'ry vessel in a blended sound
Reply the concave shores. Now sudden shifts
The wind, and checks their progress; but permits
Glad Haliartus close behind the helm
Of Æschylus to pass. The choral notes
Of triumph then were hush'd. The warrior-bard,
Who had so well accomplish'd all his charge,
Like Jove in judgment, on the plain like Mars,
Sat in oblivion of his arms, which lay
Beside him. O'er the Heliconian hill
In thought he wander'd, and invok'd the Muse
To sing of civic harmony. The Muse
To Aristides, and the conqu'ring son
Of Neocles united, touch'd the lyre
With melody rejoicing at their names.
The Attic warriors throng'd the silent decks,
The shrouds and yards. Attention clos'd their lips,
Their minds were open'd. Musical and learn'd,
Minerva's chosen people had been wont
To hear his numbers in the tragic scene.
Sententious weight of poesy, combin'd
With music's pow'rful spell, there tam'd the rude,
Abash'd the vicious, and the good refin'd,

Oh! Artemisia, Haliartus sigh'd,
While at the strain his progress he delay'd,
How canst thou splendid vassalage prefer
In barb'rous climes, the residence of slaves,
To Greece, the land of freedom, arts and arms,
The legislator's and the hero's seat,
The guardian pure of equity and laws,
The nurse of orphans helpless and oppress'd,
Of all, whom Phœbus and the Muses lift
Above the rank of mortals! Greece, I owe
More than my birth and being to thy love,
My sentiments I owe. Adopted child,
For thee my better parent now I go
To hazard all in voluntary zeal,
Ev'n the possession of Acanthè's charms.

On Atalantè's sea-beat verge he lands;
Swift he collects his peasant weeds, the crook,
The pipe and scrip, thus musing: Ancient garb,
Thou dost remind me of Oïleus good,
Dost summon all my gratitude to prove,
That he, who benefits receives, and feels
A grateful sense, is happy. From his side,
His arm, and temples, he ungirds the sword,
The shield releases, and unclasps the helm;
These he commits, Sophronia, to thy care,
Spouse of Leonteus, mother of the race
Oïlean. Them, in tenderness embrac'd,
He leaves with blessings, re-embarks and prints
His bounding feet on Locris. Hermes thus
In shepherd's weeds his deity conceal'd,
By Jove's appointment on the flow'ry meads
Of Inachus alighting; where he stole
On watchful Argus, and, his hundred eyes
Eluding, rescu'd from her bestial form
Afflicted Io. Like the mountain roe
The son of Lygdamis in speed excell'd;
He, had he run for Atalanta's love,
Would have rejected Cytherea's aid,
Nor, of her swiftness to beguile the fair,
Before her steps the golden apples thrown.

He quits the shore impatient; on he flies
Unquestion'd, rank'd among the Locrian hinds,
All Persian subjects now. A midnight course
To Oeta's well-known mountains he prefers
Through winding vallies, sprinkled with his tears
In memory of past events. He finds
The track to Mycon's hut; that goat-herd hears
The sound of footsteps through the morning dew;
He sees, he flies to Melibœus, clings
Around his neck. The seeming shepherd thus:

Kind friend, inform me of Melissa's weal.
To him the swain: In wonder thou wilt hear,
That no Barbarian dares ascend this hill;
Th' attempt with death Mardonius would chastise.
Benign Masistius, who his freedom gain'd
From gen'rous Medon, to his sister thus
The benefit repays. He often views
Thermopylæ, inspects th' obsequious band,
Which guards the cavern'd passage to our fane;
The fane he visits. Pleas'd, Melissa greets
The gentle Persian, who delights to speak
Of Aristides righteous and humane,
Of Medon's valour on Psittalia's isle,
Who made Masistius captive. Thus at times
The tedious winter's melancholy hours
She sooth'd; depriv'd of thee, superior swain,
At times convers'd with Mycon. She hath tun'd
My pipe to music, purify'd my tongue,
Refin'd its language, and my soul enlarg'd.
Despairing never of the public weal,
To Aristides, virtuous guardian pow'r
Of Greece, she strikes her celebrating chords.

So will she, Mycon, to the conqu'ring son
Of Neocles, our second guardian pow'r,
Cries Haliartus; but too long I wait
To hail my holy mistress. She, rejoins
The swain, hath left this mountain. Forty days,
Since I beheld Masistius, are elaps'd;
His welcome hand before Melissa plac'd
A woman, rather deity in form;
The hoary temple with her beauty seem'd
Illumin'd; regal was her state; her spouse,
The youthful king of Macedon, was by.
She, in Melissa's presence, cast aside
Her majesty; a suppliant in these words,
Whose strong impression I retain, she spake:

“Most gracious, learn'd, and prudent of thy rank,
“In Greece the highest, I, in Delphi born,
“Phœbean Timon's child, a pious suit
“Both in my father's and Apollo's name
“To thee prefer. Trachiniæ's neighb'ring walls
“Contain the object of my tend'rest care,
“Sandaucè, thither from Emathian bounds
“For help convey'd. Masistius will confirm,
“Whate'er I utter in Sandaucè's praise.
“Her virtues more than equal her estate
“Of princess, Xerxes' sister; but her woes
“Almost exceed her virtues. Nature droops
“Beneath its burden, sickness wastes her youth,
“Resists all med'cine, while her feeble frame
“To dissolution verges. O belov'd
“By ev'ry Muse illumining thy mind
“With ev'ry science, holy woman, fam'd
“Among these nations for benignant deeds,
“Vouchsafe, descending from thy pure abode,
“To grant thy healing aid”. Masistius then:

“This is the princess, who her husband saw
“Slain at her feet, her infants doom'd to death
“By Euphrantides; never since that day
“The wound inflicted on her gentle heart
“Admitted cure.” The charitable suit
Prevail'd, and soon Trachiniæ's gates receiv'd
The priestess borne in Amarantha's car.
Here Haliartus: Hast thou never seen,
Among the Persians who frequent this hill,
A youth in rosy vigour, by the name
Of Artamanes known? I have, returns
The goat-herd; he with Amarantha came;
Scem'd doubly anxious for Melissa's help
To yon afflicted princess; urg'd the suit
In Medon's name, his friend and saviour styl'd,
Who made him captive on Psittalia's shore.
But on his cheek the roses, thou dost paint,
No longer bloom; his visage, worn and pale,
Denotes some inward malady, or grief.
Now, Melibœus, to my longing ear
Thy history unfold. We parted last,
Thou mayst remember, on this fatal spot.
The gentle Agis from this point survey'd
Yon froth of torrents in their stony beds,
Yon shagged rocks, and that disastrous pass
Beneath us; whence Barbarian numbers huge
O'erwhelm'd, Thermopylæ. But first accept
Refreshment. Under hairy boughs of pines
A rustic board he piles with oaten loaves,
Dry'd fruits and chestnuts; bubbling nigh, a spring
Supplies their bev'rage. Here th' illustrious son
Of Lygdamis recounts a copious tale
To wond'ring Mycon; but his birth conceals,
And consanguinity with Caria's queen.

He stops to note the narrow passage throng'd
With laden mules and camels. Mycon then:

These are my constant spectacle; his host
Mardonius now assembles. He transports,
Alpenus, yonder Locrian town, receives
The gather'd produce of Thessalia's fields;
Nicæa's fort contains an equal store,
Preparatives for war. Where lies the camp,
The Carian questions? On the Malian plain,
Which Oeta's cliffs command, the swain reply'd.
New tents on clear Spercheos daily rise
Of Persians banded from their winter holds;
Thou shalt behold them; follow. Both proceed
Along the green expanse Melissa lov'd;
Where genial spring had form'd of tufted shrubs
A florid cincture to the lucid pool
Behind the dome, inviolable seat
Of all the Muses. Thence harmonious nymphs,
Part of Melissa's ministerial choir,
Left in their function, with mellifluent voice
To harps in cadence true enchant the soul
Of Haliartus, doubly charm'd to hear
Leonidas the theme. With numbers sweet
His praise inwoven by Melissa's skill
Was their diurnal song. But sorrow soon
Invades a breast, where gratitude presides;
The time and place to Haliartus rise,
Where he and Medon took their last farewell
Of that devoted hero. In a sigh
The Carian thus: O well-remember'd scene
Once to these eyes delectable! Thy flow'rs
Have lost their odour; thy crystalline pool
Is dull in aspect to my sad'ning sight;
You cannot sooth, melodious maids, the pain
Of recollection; starting at the name
Your measures sound. Beneath yon solemn beech
Regret sits weeping; Lacedæmon's king
There of terrestrial music heard the last
From Æschylus, the last of banquets shar'd
With good Oïleus' daughter. Mycon here:

Suppress this grief; the priestess has forbid
All lamentation for that hero's fate,
Who died so glorious. Follow to the cliff.

They soon attain a high projecting point,
When Haliartus in a second sigh:

Here stood Melissa; from her sacred lips
The queen of Caria hence endur'd reproof;
Hence did the great Leonidas explore
Th' advancing Persians, when his prudent care
The trees and marble fragments had amass'd,
Which from the mountain overwhelm'd below
Such multitudes of foes. But, Mycon, speak,
What is that cross beside the public way?

Ah! Melibœus, let thy spirit grieve
Like mine, exclaims, in gushing tears, the swain;
Lo! Xerxes' coward vengeance! Thou behold'st
Leonidas suspended on that cross.

As oft, when lightning strikes the human frame,
The wound, though imperceptible, destroys
Each vital pow'r throughout the stiff'ning limbs,
Which still retain their posture; rigid thus
Is Haliartus; riveted to earth
He seems, nor utters sound, nor breathes, nor moves
His ghastly eyeballs. Now, when Mycon thrice
His name repeated, briefly he replies:

I am benumb'd—Conduct me to a cell
Where I may slumber—Tend thy herd—Expect
Me at thy home. A mossy cave is nigh;
There Mycon leaves him. Haliartus stays,
Not slumb'ring, but, when Mycon is remote,
Darts from the shelter, traverses a wood,
Descends a crag, which bounds the upper straits,
Thence winds his rapid journey to the cross,
Which stands a witness of Barbaric rage.
His ardent zeal to free those honour'd bones
Admits no pause. The midnight watch is past;
Importunate and hateful, birds obscene
Are gather'd round; disturb'd, their grating shrieks
They mix, and clatter their ill-omen'd wings.
A station'd guard is rous'd; resistless force
Surrounds the Carian, seizes, leads him bound
Before the chieftain of a camp advanc'd.
He, at the sight of Haliartus charg'd
With guilt, whose punishment is death, commands
Th' accusing soldiers to retire, and thus:

Alas! hath sorrow so impair'd the hue
Of Artamanes, that oblivion masks
His face from Haliartus. Thee I know,
Thee Meliboeus once, benignant swain,
My comforter in bondage, when we plough'd
The Grecian seas in Delphian Timon's bark.
Was not I present, when the genuine seed
Of Lygdamis in thee Aronces trac'd?
But, O! illustrious brother of a queen
Ador'd in Asia, what disastrous star
Thy midnight steps misguided, to incur
The king's immutable decree of death?
Thy bold attempt was virtuous, but his will
Hath made thy virtue criminal. Thy head
At his own peril Artamanes still
Shall guard; thy liberty accept; myself
Will be thy guide to safety. Ah! replies
The gen'rous son of Lygdamis, and clasps
The meritorious Persian, I perceive
Still unimpair'd thy virtues; but receive
Thy noble proffer back. For my behoof
Not with its shadow danger shall approach
My friend; thy pris'ner let me rest till morn.
A lib'ral garb is all the boon I crave,
Then to Mardonius lead me; tell my crime,
No grace solicit; who I am, conceal.

In tears, replied the satrap: Then thou diest;
The royal edict cannot be controll'd.

It can, return'd the Carian; rest assur'd,
My preservation in myself I bear.
Oh! that with equal certainty my pow'r
Might from thy bosom chace that inmate new,
Whate'er it be, which violates thy peace,
Thy early youth disfigures, and consumes
Its fruit unripe. Ah! tell me, is it grief
For some dead friend, or sickness, or the smart
Of injury, or love? Acanthè wak'd
That tender thought, which soften'd on the tongue
Of Haliartus. From the Persian's breast
A sigh, deep note of agony, which riv'd
His gentle heart, accompanied these words:

Endear'd associate in affliction past,
Thou, and thou only, dost unlock the breast
Of Artamanes. It is love, my friend;
The object, once possessing ev'ry charm
Exterior, still each beauty of the soul,
By malady incurable devour'd
From day to day is hast'ning to the tomb.
Oh! long deplor'd Sandaucè; thee my steps
Shall follow close—My passion is unknown
To her; peculiar was her state and mine,
Too delicate at first for me to speak,
For her to hear. My hopes malignant time
Hath wasted since, my health in her decay.
But while my heart is bleeding for my love,
The sluice grows wider, and to friendship pours
A stream enlarg'd. Thy danger—Ah! permit,
That I reveal thy origin and rank;
Thy sister's name can shake the king's decree.

No, Artamanes, by th' immortal gods,
Rejoins the Carian; of my just attempt,
I, if succeeding, all the merit knew,
If taken, knew my ransom. But the stars,
Half through their circles run, suggest repose.
May grief-asswaging heaviness of sleep
Embalm thy eyelids, and like mine thy breast
Feel no disquiet; mayst thou rise again,
Saluting hope the harbinger of peace.

Stretch'd on a carpet Haliartus slept;
Not so the troubled Persian, long disus'd
To lenient rest. Before the dawn he rose;
Among the Greek auxiliars he procur'd
Apparel fair of Greece. His Carian guest
Attir'd he guided o'er the Malian beach,
To that august pavilion, which contain'd
The royal person once, Mardonius now
In all the state of Xerxes, save the crown.

Thus Artamanes: See a hapless man,
Who hath attempted to remove the corse
Of Sparta's king. That hapless man must die,
Returns the gen'ral; Xerxes so ordain'd,
Not I. Then absent on a charge remote,
Mardonius knew not, nor approv'd when known,
Th' indignity that noble corse sustain'd.

To him the Carian: Mindarus to death,
With hecatombs of nobles thou decreest,
Who in Euboea will appease my ghost.

Ha! who art thou, in agitation spake
The satrap? Guard, bid Lamachus approach,
Our visitor so recent from that isle.

He was not far; the son of Gobryas thus
Address'd him ent'ring: Note that stranger well.
Why dost thou start? Themistocles can boast
No bolder warrior, Lamachus exclaim'd;
I was his captive in th' Orēan fight.

Again the Carian: Truth for once he speaks;
I dragg'd him bound my captive on that field;
Ariobarzanes felt me; further learn,
By me the savage Demonax was slain.
But to have rescu'd from inhuman wrong
The mortal part of that transcendent man,
Who living shook all Asia with dismay,
Had been my proudest boast. Mardonius then:

By Horomazes, I admire and prize
Thy gen'rous flame, brave warrior! Under charge
Of Artamanes in Trachiniæ's round
Awhile remain. Now, Lamachus, ascend
Some ready bark; revisit yonder isle;
This Greek for Mindarus exchange; redeem
The rest of Asia's nobles; I allot
For each a talent. In these words salute
Themistocles: “To Athens I have sent
“Young Alexander, Macedonia's prince,
“Ambassador of friendship; I would call
“Themistocles ally; himself may name,
“But Persia's bounty shall exceed his price.
“This if his Attic arrogance rejects,
“Tell him, Mardonius, who disdains a war
“Of oars and sails, the dubious ocean's sport,
“Will give him battle on the plains of Thebes.”

Though Artamanes joyfully beholds
His friend in safety, with a trembling step
Trachiniæ's gates he passes to the roof,
Which holds Sandaucè. Ent'ring, he perceives
Melissa. She, transported at the sight
Of Haliartus, thus began: O friend!
Dear to my sire, to all th' Oïlean house,
What unexpected ecstacy were mine
At thy appearance, if—Ah! Persian lord,
Sandaucè, sweet Sandaucè, yields to fate.
Her dying lips on Artamanes call;
Soft gratitude o'erflows her gentle breast;
Her wish is eager, ere she breathe her last,
To see her friend and guardian. Ending here,
She moves before him; with unstable feet,
With other prompters, anguish and despair,
He follows. Pallid on her mournful couch
The princess lies; her infants weep around;
Bright Amarantha in disorder'd garb,
Unloosen'd hair, and frantic with distress,
Stands nigh. The graces sadden on her front;
Her beauteous eyes a gushing torrent pour
Like overswelling fountains, once serene
The lucid mirrors to encircling flow'rs,
Now troubled by a storm, which levels round
The growth of shade, and scatters on their face
Uprooted shrubs in bloom. Her languid lips
At length unclosing, thus Sandaucè spake:

Omniscient God of nature! let me lift
My voice appealing. When before me lay
Autarctus slaughter'd, when these babes, condemn'd
By cruel rites, to sacrifice were led,
Did not the creature of thy tend'rest mold
Feel as a wife, a mother, and receive
A cureless wound? Thy providence uprais'd
A kind protector through my lengthen'd walks
Of grief, till now they terminate in death.
If to his gen'rous purity of care,
Assiduous, kind and pious, time hath rais'd
Within my breast a secret, soft return,
Was this an error? Hath my heart abus'd
The sensibility, thou gav'st? Alone
Art thou my judge. Creator, I obey;
Before thy awful presence thou dost call
Sandaucè's youth; unconscious of a crime,
My debt avow'd of gratitude I pay
By this confession of my fleeting breath
To Artamanes. O! illustrious youth,
Supreme in rank, in virtue still more high,
Thy care continue to these orphan babes.

She ceas'd, and speechless on her pillow sunk.
Th' enamour'd Persian instant on the floor
Dropp'd, like a stony mass, which inward throes
Of earth convulsive from a cliff disjoins;
Dead monument of ruin on the beach
Immoveable it lies. Melissa calls
On Haliartus; suddenly he bears
The hapless youth, inanimate and cold,
To an adjoining chamber. There outstretch'd,
Restor'd to sense by kind, unwearied zeal
In Haliartus, all the níght he roam'd
Through sad delirium's labyrinths till morn;
When lo! Melissa: Comfort thee, she said,
The princess lives; the burden from her mind
Discharg'd, hath render'd to the pow'rs of life
Exertion less confin'd, rekindling hope
Of restoration. So th' all-ruling gods
Vicissitude to nature have decreed;
The mind, the body languishes to-day,
Revives to morrow....Interrupting came
Mardonius thus: What tidings have I heard
Of Artamanes and the princess dead
By malady most rare, a mutual flame
Too long conceal'd? But ent'ring I receiv'd
A milder tale; they live. Thou holy Greek!
Employ thy science; save a lovely dame,
Though Persian born; in him preserve my friend;
Mardonius, long thy country's foe, to thee
Win ne'er be hostile. To Sandaucè go,
Say from my lips, and, Artamanes, hear,
The flow'r of nobles Xerxes shall not lose
Through disappointed passion; were my friend
Less than he is, among the satraps least,
At my enforcement shall the king unite
Their nuptial hands. Now rouse thee, gallant youth,
Not long thy gen'ral from his side can spare
Thy worth approv'd. Masistius is remote;
In virtue rich beyond a mortal's share,
But to that virtue never yielding rest,
He for a time on high adventure bent
Hath left me; thou his vacant place must fill.
The son of Gobryas to his tent returns.