The sun was set; Autarctus and his band,
In haste collected, through nocturnal shades
To small Psyttalia pass'd a narrow frith.
As on a desert forest, where at night
A branching oak some traveller hath climb'd
To couch securely; if the trunk beset
By famish'd wolves in herd, who thirst for blood,
Pale morn discovers to his waking sight,
His hair in terrour bristles, pants his breast
In doubt of safety; thus Aurora shew'd
The unexpected gleam of Persian arms,
Which fill'd Psyttalia, while the Attic strand,
With numbers equal to its sandy stores
Was cover'd, and Phaleron's road with masts,
A floating forest, crowded like the pines,
Majestic daughters of the Pcntic woods.
Fair Athens burn'd in sight; embodied smoke
Rose mountainous, emitting pillar'd flames,
Whose umber'd light the newly-dawning sun
But half eclips'd. At intervals are heard
The hollow sound of columns prostrate laid,
The crash of levell'd walls, of sinking roofs
In massy ruin. Consternation cold
Benumbs the Greek spectators, all aghast
Except th' Athenians, whose unshaken minds
To this expected fate resign'd their homes
For independence. Gigantean rang'd
From ship to ship Despair; she drives ashore
The timid leaders, changing late resolves
For gen'rous combat into base retreat.
To seek the shelter of their native ports
They clamour loud; the admiral convenes
A council; him Themistocles address'd:
Now Eurybiades, to whose command
I voluntary yielded, from thy charge,
Not less for Athens than for gen'ral Greece,
I claim a righteous and heroic part,
The promis'd fight in these auspicious streights,
Which, rend'ring vain the multitude of foes,
Assure success. But separate this fleet,
A hundred openings may Barbarians chuse
To Pelops' region; not on ev'ry spot
An isthmian wall is plac'd. Depriv'd of all,
If to your succour we Athenians lose
All claim, ye Greeks, be valiant for yourselves!
See Attica in slames, the temples raz'd,
The tombs defac'd, the venerable dust
Of our forefathers scatter'd in the wind!
Would you avoid calamities like these,
To sound instruction lean; th' almighty gods
Wise counsels bless with prosperous events,
To its own folly wilful blindness leave.
Proud Adimantus, on his birth elate,
The admiral of Corinth, envying long
Cecropia's name and pow'r, arose and spake:
For public safety when in council meet
Men who have countries, silence best becomes
Him who hath none; shall such presume to vote,
Too patient Spartan, nay to dictate here,
Who cannot tell us they possess a home?
For Attica in flames, her temples raz'd,
Her tombs disfigur'd, for th' ignoble dust
Of thy forefathers scatter'd in the wind,
Thou low-born son of Neocles, must Greece
Her welfare hazard on a single day,
Which, unsuccessful, endless ruin brings?
Cleander heard, Troezene's youthful chief;
Warm was his bosom, eloquent his tongue,
Strong-nerv'd his limbs, well exercis'd in arms;
Preventing thus Themistocles, he spake:
Though blood, Corinthian, be of noblest dye,
Base-born the soul when folly is her sire.
Absurdity and malice no reply
Deserve from thee, Athenian! thee, more wise,
More valiant, more distinguish'd in thyself,
Than all the vaunted progeny of gods.
Did you not mourn, ye deities, to see
A nation, you created with their soil,
Forsake that ancient land? or not admire
Your greatest work, the conduct of that man,
Who such a race from such endearing homes,
Wives, husbands, elders, infants, maidens, youths,
In gen'rous quest of liberty could lead?
Do you not look indignant down to hear
Such venomous reproaches on his worth,
A wrong to Greece? Her saviour him I call,
As yet, I trust, his dictates will prevail.
While he declaim'd, Themistocles, who scorn'd
The insolent Corinthian, sat and scann'd
The looks of all; his penetrating sight
Could read the thoughts of men; the major part
He saw averse to battle, Sparta's chief
Uncertain, cold, and slow. Affecting here
Decisive looks, and scorn of more debate,
Thus brief he clos'd: Athenians still possess
A city buoyant on two hundred keels.
Thou, admiral of Sparta, frame thy choice;
Fight, and Athenians shall thy arm sustain;
Retreat, Athenians shall retreat to shores
Which bid them welcome, to Hesperian shores,
For them by ancient oracles reserv'd,
Safe from insulting foes, from false allies,
And Eleutherian Jove will bless their flight:
So said your own Leonidas, who died
For public welfare. You that glorious death
May render, Spartans, fruitless to yourselves.
This said, he left the council; not to fly,
But with his wonted policy compel
The Greeks to battle. At a secret cove
He held in constant readiness a skiff,
In Persian colours mask'd; he there embark'd
The most entrusted of his household, charg'd
With these instructions: Now return my love,
Sicinus, born a Persian, of my house
Not as a slave long habitant, but friend,
My children's tutor, in my trust supreme.
To Xerxes' navy sail; accost her chief
In words like these-Themistocles, who leads
Athenian squadrons, is the monarch's friend,
Approv'd by this intelligence; the Greeks
In consternation shortly will resolve
To separate and fly; let Asia's fleet
Her numbers round in diligence extend,
Investing ev'ry passage; then, consus'd,
This whole confederated force of Greece
Will sooner yield than fight, and Xerxes close
At once so perilous a war.-He ceas'd.
Meanwhile the council wasted precious hours,
Till Eurybiades at length alarm'd
Lest all th' Athenians should retreat incens'd,
Postpon'd the issue to th' ensuing day.
Themistocles, retiring to his tent,
There found his wife; his stratagem on wings
Of execution, left his mind serene;
Relax'd in thought, he trifled with his boy,
Young child, who playful on the mother's lap,
Soon as of Xerxes earnest she enquir'd,
With frowning graces on his brow of down,
Clench'd fast his infant hands. The dame pursues:
O that the Greeks would emulate this child,
Clench fast their weapons, and confront the foe!
Did we abandon our paternal homes,
Our nuptial chambers, from the cradle snatch
Our helpless babes? Did tender maidens join
Unanimous the cry, 'Embark, embark
'For Salamis and freedom!' to behold
The men debating (so the Attic wives
Are told) uncertain if to fight or serve?
Who are the cowards, rather traitors, say?
We will assail them, as the Trojan dames
Did Polymestor, royal thief, who broke
The holiest ties for gold.-Take comfort, love;
All shall be well, Themistocles replied.
Yes, I in thee have comfort, she proceeds;
Thou canst devise some artifice to urge
Ev'n dastards on; Sicinus thou hast sent,
I ask not whither.-In a smile her lord:
With thy permission, then, the gods remain
My confidents: to ease thee, I proclaim
This boy the first of Greeks; he governs thee,
Thou me, I Athens; who shall govern Greece,
As I am sure to circumvent the foes.
Retiring, seek the town; console the dames;
Thy husband never was so high in hope.
She pleas'd, departing, spake: To govern thee
Requires an art which never woman knew,
Nor man; most artful, thou controllest all,
Yet call'st, nay often seem'st, thyself controll'd.
She distant, thus he meditates alone:
True, when I seem controll'd by others most,
Then most assur'd my enterprize succeeds.
O lib'ral nature! science, arts acquir'd,
I little value; while thy light supplies
Profuse invention, let capricious chance
With obstacles and dangers gird me round,
I can surmount them all; nor peace, nor war,
Nor all the swift vicissitudes of time,
E'er gave emergency a birth too strong
For me to govern. On this crisis hangs
My future greatness; whether joy or grief
Shall close the term of being, none foreknow;
My penetrating spirit I will trust
Thus far prophetic; for a time, at least,
I will possess authority and pow'r
To fix a name enduring like the sun.
Thus, in his own strong faculties secure,
To rest he tranquil sunk, and slept till dawn;
Then early rose. Advancing from the shore,
A manly figure he observes, the face
Wrapt in a mantle; as dividing clouds
Reveal th' unmuffled sun, the mantle cast
Aside discovers the majestic front
Of Aristides, who the silence breaks:
Dissensions past, as puerile and vain,
Now to forget, and nobly strive who best
Shall serve his country, Aristides warns
His ancient foe Themistocles. I hear
Thou giv'st the best of councils, which the Greeks
Reject, through mean solicitude to fly;
Weak men! throughout these narrow seas the foe
Is station'd now, preventing all escape.
Themistocles, though covetous of fame,
Though envying pow'r in others, was not bred
In horrid deserts, not with savage milk
Of tigers nurs'd, nor bore a ruthless heart.
He thus replied: With gratitude this foe
Accepts thy welcome news, thy proffer'd aid,
Thy noble challenge; in this glorious race
Be all our strife each other to surpass.
First know my inmost secrets; if the streights
Are all invested with Barbarian ships,
The act is mine; of our intended flight
I through Sicinus have appris'd the foes;
Of his success thee messenger I hail.
The exile then: Such policy denotes
Themistocles; I praise, the Greeks have cause
To bless, thy conduct; teach me now what task
I can achieve; to labour, to advise
With thee commanding, solely to enjoy
The secret pleasure of preserving Greece,
Is my pursuit; the glory all be thine.
Before the council shew that honour'd face,
Rejoins the chief; report thy tidings there.
To preparation for immediate fight
Exhort; such notice they would slight in me,
In thee all men believe.-This said, they mov'd.
Them on their way Myronides approach'd,
Xanthippus, Cimon, Æschylus, and all
The captains, fixing reverential eyes
On Aristides; this the wary son
Of Neocles remark'd; he gains the town
Of Salamis, the council there is met;
To them th' illustrious exile he presents,
At whose appearance all th' assembly rise,
Save Adimantus; fast by envy bound,
He sits morose; illib'ral then the word,
As Aristides was in act to speak,
Thus takes: Boeotia, Attica reduc'd,
The Dorians, Locrians, you already know;
To me this morn intelligence arriv'd,
That Thespia, that Platea were in flames,
All Phocis conquer'd; thus alone of Greece
The Isle of Pelops unsubdued remains.
For what is lost, ye Grecians, must we face
Such mightier numbers, while barbarian hate
Lurks in Psyttalia, watching for the wrecks
Of our defeated navy? Shall we pause
Now at the Isthmus with united force
To save a precious remnant? Landing there,
Your sailors turn to soldiers, oars to spears;
The only bulwark you have left, defend.
Then Aristides: Ignominious flight
Necessity forbids; Ægina's shore
Last night I left; from knowledge I report.
The hostile navy bars at either mouth
The narrow streight between Psyttalia's Isle
And Salamis, where lie your anchor'd ships.
But shall the Greeks be terrified? What more
Can they solicit of propitious heav'n,
Than such deluded enemies to face,
Who trust in numbers, yet provoke the fight
Where multitude is fruitless?-Closing here,
The unassuming exile straight retir'd.
Cleander ent'ring heard; while Corinth's chief,
Blind with malignity and pride, pursued:
Her strength must Greece for Attica destroy'd
Waste on the credit of a single tongue,
From Athens banish'd? Swift Cleander spake:
Is there in Greece who doubts that righteous tongue,
Save Adimantus? To suspect the truth
Of that illustrious exile, were to prove
Ourselves both false and timid. But enough
Of altercation; from the fleet I come,
The words of Aristides I confirm;
Prepare to fight; no passage have our ships
But through embattled foes.-The council rose.
In this tremendous season, thronging round
Th' accomplish'd son of Neocles, their hopes
In his unerring conduct all repose.
Thus on Olympus round their father Jove
The deities collected, when the war
Of earth's gigantic offspring menac'd heav'n,
In his omnipotence of arm and mind
Confiding. Eurybiades supreme
In title, ev'ry leader speeds to act
What great Themistocles suggests; himself,
In all expedients copious, seeks his wife,
Whom he accosts, encircled where she stood
With Attic dames: Timothea, now rejoice!
The Greeks will fight; to-morrow's sun will give
A glorious day of liberty to Greece.
Assemble thou the women; let the dawn
Behold you spread the Salaminian beach;
In your selected ornaments attir'd,
As when superb processions to the gods
Your presence graces, with your children stand
Encompass'd; cull your fairest daughters, range
Them in the front; alluring be their dress,
Their beauties half discover'd, half conceal'd;
As when you practise on a lover's eye,
Through that soft portal to invade the heart;
So shall the faithful husband from his wife
Catch fire, the father from his blooming race,
The youthful warrior from the maid he loves:
Your looks will sharpen our vindictive swords.
In all the grace of polish'd Athens thus
His charge pronouncing, with a kind embrace
He quits her bosom, nor th' encircling dames
Without respectful admonition leaves
To aid his consort. Grateful in itself
A task she soon begins, which pleases more
As pleasing him. A meadow fresh in green,
Between the sea-beat margin and the walls,
Which bore the island's celebrated name,
Extended large; there oft the Attic fair
In bevies met; Themistocles the ground
To them allotted, that communion soft,
Or pastime, sweetly cheating, might relieve
The sad remembrance of their native homes.
Here at Timothea's summons they conven'd
In multitude beyond the daisies, strewn
Thick o'er the verdure from the lap of spring,
When most profuse. The wives, the mothers here
Of present heroes, there in bud are seen
The future mothers of immortal sons,
Of Socrates, of Plato, who to birth
Had never sprung if Xerxes had prevail'd,
Or would have liv'd Barbarians. On a mount
Timothea plac'd, her graceful lips unclos'd:
Ye wives, ye mothers, and ye fair betroth'd,
Your husbands, sons, and suitors claim that aid
You have to give, and never can so well.
A signal day of liberty to Greece
Expect to-morrow; of the glorious scene
Become spectators; in a bridal dress,
Ye wives, encompass'd with your tender babes,
Ye rev'rend matrons in your sumptuous robes,
As when superb processions to the gods
Your presence graces; but ye future brides,
Now maids, let all th' allurement of attire
Enhance your beauties to th' enamour'd eye:
So from the face he loves shall ev'ry youth
Catch fire, with animating passion look
On her, and conquer. Thus Cecropia's maids,
Who left their country rather than abide
Impure compulsion to Barbarian beds,
Or ply the foreign loom with servile hands,
Shall live to see their hymeneal morn;
Bless'd in heroic husbands, shall transmit
To late posterity the Attic name.
And you, whose exemplary steps began
Our glorious emigration, you shall see
Your lords, your sons, in triumph to your homes
Return, ye matrons-Or with them will die,
If fortune frown, Laodice aloud;
For this I hold a poniard; ere endure
A Persian yoke, will pierce this female heart.
Enthusiastic ardour seems to change
Their sex; with manlike firmness all consent
To meet Timothea there by early dawn
In chosen raiment, and with weapons arm'd,
As chance should furnish. Thus Timothea sway'd,
The emulator of her husband's art,
But ne'er beyond immaculate intent;
At her suggestion interpos'd her friend
Laodice, the consort young and fair
Of bold Aminias, train'd by naval Mars,
From the same bed with Æschylus deriv'd.
Troezene's leader, passing by, admir'd
The gen'rous flame, but secretly rejoic'd
In Ariphilia at Calauria safe;
He to thy tent, Themistocles, was bound.
Thee to Sicinus list'ning, just return'd
From his successful course, Cleander found,
Thee of thy dear Timothea first inform'd,
While thou didst smile applause. The youth pursued:
From Aristides I deputed come;
He will adventure from Psyttalia's isle
This night to chace the foe, if thou concur
In help and counsel: bands of Attic youth,
Superfluous force excluded from the fleet,
With ready arms the enterprize demand;
Them, with his troop, Oïlean Medon joins.
A noble Grecian, sage, experienc'd, brave,
Returns the chief; my answer is concise:
Sicinus, fly! their pinnaces and skiffs
Command th' Athenian vessels to supply
At Aristides' call; th' attempt is wise,
Becoming such a soldier; thou remain
With him, to bring me tidings of success.
Swift as a stone from Balearic slings,
Sicinus hastens to th' Athenian fleet;
Cleander light th' important order bears
To Aristides, whose exalted voice
Collects the banding youth. So gen'rous hounds
The huntsman's call obey; with ringing peals
Their throats in tune delight Aurora's ear;
They pant impatient for the scented field,
Devour in thought the victims of their speed,
Nor dread the rav'nous wolf, nor tusky boar,
Nor lion, king of beasts. The exile feels
Returning warmth, like some neglected steed
Of noblest temper, from his wonted haunts
Who long hath languish'd in the lazy stall;
Call'd forth, he paws, he snuffs th' enliv'ning air,
His strength he proffers in a cheerful neigh
To scour the vale, to mount the shelving hill,
Or dash from thickets close the sprinkling dew.
He thus to Medon: Of Psyttalia's shore
That eastern flat contains the Persian chief,
Known by his standard; with four thousand youths
Make thy impression there; the western end
Our foes neglect, a high and craggy part;
But nature there through perforated rock
Hath left a passage, with its mouth above
Conceal'd in bushes; this, to me well known,
I will possess; thence rushing, will surround
The unsuspecting Persian. Darkness falls;
Let all embark; at midnight ply the oar.
They hear and march; allotted seats they take
Aboard the skiffs Sicinus had prepar'd,
Impatient waiting, but impatience keeps
Her peace. The second watch is now elaps'd,
That baneful season, mark'd in legends old,
When death-controlling sorcery compell'd
Unwilling spirits back to mortal clay
Entomb'd, when dire Thessalian charmers call'd
Down from her orb the pallid queen of night,
And hell's tremendous avenues unclos'd;
To Asia's mothers now of real bane,
Who soon must wail ten thousand slaughter'd sons.
The boats in order move; full-fac'd the moon
Extends the shadows of a thousand masts
Across the mirror of cerulean floods,
Which feel no ruffling wind. A western course
With his division Aristides steers,
The Locrian eastward; by whose dashing oars
A guard is rous'd, not timely to obstruct
His firm descent, yet ready on the strand
To give him battle. Medon's spear by fate
Is wielded; Locrians and Athenians sweep
The foes before them; numbers fresh maintain
Unceasing conflict, till on ev'ry side
His reinforcement Aristides pours,
And turns the fight to carnage: by his arm
Before a tent of stately structure sinks
Autarctus brave in death. The twilight breaks
On heaps of slaughter; not a Persian lives
But Artamanes, from whose youthful brow
The beaver sever'd by th' auspicious steel
Of Medon, shew'd a well-remember'd face;
The Locrian swift embrac'd him, and began:
Deserve my kindness by some grateful news
Of Meliboeus and the Delphian priest;
Not Æschylus in pity shall exceed
My care in this thy second captive state.
His grateful news the Persian thus repeats:
Nicæa, fort of Locris, them contains;
Though pris'ners, happy in the guardian care
Of Artemisia. What disastrous sight!
Autarctus there lies prostrate in his blood.
Oh, I must throw me at the victor's feet!
He went, by Medon introduc'd, to kneel;
Forbid by Aristides, he began:
My own compassion to solicit yours,
Without disgrace might bend a satrap's knee;
I have a tale of sorrow to unfold,
Might soften hearts less humaniz'd and just
Than yours, O gen'rous Grecians! In that tent
The widow'd wife of this late envied prince,
Young, royal matron-twenty annual suns
She hath not told-three infants . . . At these words
The righteous man of Athens stays to hear
No more; he gains the tent, he enters, views
Sandauce, silent in majestic woe,
With her three children in their eastern vests
Of gems and gold; urbanity forbids
To interrupt the silence of her grief;
Sicinus, waiting nigh, he thus enjoins:
Thou, born a Persian, from a ghastly stage
Of massacre and terrour these transport
To thy own lord, Themistocles; the spoils
Are his, not mine. Could words of comfort heal
Calamity thus sudden and severe,
I would instruct thy tongue; but mute respect
Is all thy pow'r can give, or she receive.
Apprise the gen'ral that Psyttalia's coast
I will maintain with Medon, from the wrecks
To save our friends, our enemies destroy.
He then withdraws; Athenians he commands
Autarctus' body to remove from sight;
When her pavilion now Sandauce leaves,
Preceded by Sicinus. On the ground
She bends her aspect, not a tear she drops
To ease her swelling heart; by eunuchs led,
Her infants follow; while a troop of slaves,
With folded arms across their heaving breasts,
The sad procession close. To Medon here
Spake Artamanes: O humane! permit
Me to attend this princess, and console
At least, companion of her woes, bewail
A royal woman from Darius sprung.
Him not a moment now his friend detains;
At this affecting season he defers
Enquiry more of Meliboeus, known
Safe in Nicæa; Persia's youth departs;
The mournful train for Salamis embark.

End of the Fifth Book