Now is the season, when Vertumnus leads
Pomona's glowing charms through ripen'd groves
Of ruddy fruitage; now the loaden vine
Invites the gath'ring hand, which treasures joy
For hoary winter in his turn to smile.
An eastern course before autumnal gales
To Ephesus the Carian gallies bend;
While Medon coasts by Locris, and deplores
Her state of thraldom. Thrice Aurora shews
Her placid face; devourer of mankind,
The sea, curls lightly in fallacious calms;
To Medon then the wary master thus:
My chief, the dang'rous equinox is near
Whose stormy breath each prudent sailor shuns,
Secure in harbour; turbulent these streights
Between Euboea and the Locrian shore;
Fate lurks in eddies, threatens from the rocks;
The continent is hostile; we must stretch
Across the passage to Euboea's isle,
There wait in safety till the season rude
Its wonted violence hath spent. The chief
Replies: An island, Atalanté nam'd,
Possess'd by Locrians, rises in thy view;
There first thy shelter seek; perhaps the foe
Hath left that fragment of my native state
Yet undestroy'd. Th' obedient rudder guides,
The oars impel the well directed keel
Safe through an inlet op'ning to a cove
Fenc'd round by rising land. At once the sight,
Caught by a lucid aperture of rock,
Strays up the island; whence a living stream,
Profuse and swift beneath a native arch,
Repels encumb'ring sands. A slender skiff,
Launch'd from the ship, pervades the sounding vault;
With his companions Medon bounds ashore,
Addressing Timon: Delphian guest, these steps,
Rude hewn, attain the summit of this rock;
Thence o'er the island may our wary ken,
By some sure sign, discover if we tread
A friendly soil, or hostile. They ascend.
The topmost peak was chisell'd to display
Marine Palæmon, colossean form,
In art not specious. Melicertes once,
Him Ino, flying from th' infuriate sword
Of Athamas her husband, down a cliff,
Distracted mother, with herself immers'd
In ocean's salt-abyss. Their mortal state
Neptunian pity to immortal chang'd;
From Ino she became Leucothea, chief
Among the nymphs of Tethys; he that god
Benign, presiding o'er the tranquil port,
Palæmon, yielding refuge to the toils
Of mariners sea-worn. One mighty palm
Lean'd on a rudder, high the other held
A globe of light, far shooting through the dark,
In rays auspicious to nocturnal keels
Which plough the vex'd Euripus. Fair below,
Her cap of verdure Atalanté spreads,
Small as a region, as a pasture large,
In gentle hollows vary'd, gentle swells,
All intersected by unnumber'd tufts
Of trees fruit-laden. Bord'ring on the streights,
Rich Locris, wide Boeotia, lift their woods,
Their hills by Ceres lov'd, and cities fam'd;
Here Opus, there Tanagra; Delium shews
Her proud Phoebean edifice, her port
Capacious Aulis, whence a thousand barks
With Agamemnon sail'd; a lengthen'd range
Euboea's rival opulence oppos'd,
Queen of that frith; superb the structures rise
Of Oreus, Chalcis, and the ruins vast
Of sad Eretria, by Darius crush'd.
The Locrian chief salutes the figur'd god:
Still dost thou stand, Palæmon, to proclaim
Oïlean hospitality of old,
Which carv'd thee here conspicuous, to befriend
The sailor night-perplex'd? Thou only sign
Left of Oïlean greatness! wrapp'd in woe
Is that distinguish'd house! Barbarians fill
Her inmost chambers! O propitious god!
If yet some remnant of the Locrian state
Thou dost protect on Atalanté's shore,
Before I leave her shall thy image smoke
With fattest victims! Timon quick subjoins:
I see no hostile traces; numerous hinds
Along the meadows tend their flocks and herds;
Let us, descending, and the crested helm,
The spear, and shield, committing to our train,
In peaceful guise salute a peaceful land.
They hear, approving; lightly back they speed;
Disarm'd, they follow an inviting path,
Which cuts a shelving green. In sportive laugh,
Before the threshold of a dwelling nigh,
Appear young children; quickning then his pace,
O Haliartus, Medon cries, I see
My brother's offspring! They their uncle knew,
Around him flock'd, announcing his approach
In screams of joy: Their sire, Leonteus, came.
As Leda's mortal son in Pluto's vale
Receiv'd his brother Pollux, who, from Jove
Deriv'd, immortal, left the realms of day,
And half his own divinity resign'd,
His dear-lov'd Castor to redeem from death;
So rush'd Leonteus into Medon's arms,
Thus utt'ring loud his transport: Dost thou come
To me and these a saviour! When that cloud
Of dire invasion overcast our land,
For sev'n defenceless insants what remain'd?
What for a tender mother? Instant flight
Preserv'd us; still we unmolested breathe
In Atalanté; others like ourselves
Resorted hither; barren winter soon
Will blast the scanty produce of this isle,
Pale famine waste our numbers; or, by want
Compell'd, this precious remnant of thy friends,
These rising pillars of th' Oïlean house
Must yield to Xerxes-but the gods have sent
In thee a guardian. Summon all our friends,
Elated Medon answers; ev'ry want
Shall be supply'd, their valour in return
Is all I claim. Meantime, like watchful bees
To guard th' invaded hive, from ev'ry part
The Islanders assemble; but the name
Of Medon, once divulg'd, suppresses fear,
And wond'ring gladness to his presence brings
Their numbers. He, rememb'ring such a scene
Late in Calauria, where afflicted throngs
Around his righteous friend of Athens press'd;
Now in that tender circumstance himself
Among his Locrians, conscious too of means
To mitigate their suff'rings, melts in tears
Of joy. O countrymen belov'd! he cries,
I now applaud my forecast, which secur'd
The whole Oïlean treasures; safe they lie
At Lacedæmon, whence expect relief
In full abundance on your wants to flow.
Amid his country's ruins Medon still
May bless the gods; by your auspicious aid,
Beyond my hopes discover'd, I may bring
No feeble standard to the Grecian camp,
When Athens, now triumphant o'er the waves,
With her deep phalanx in the field completes
The overthrow of Asia, and restores
Dejected Locris. So to Israel's sons,
Their little ones and wives, by deathful thirst
Amid the parching wilderness oppress'd,
Their legislator, with his lifted rod,
Consoling spake, who, Heav'n intrusted, knew
One stroke would open watry veins of rock,
And preservation from a flinty bed
Draw copious down. Leonteus lead the way,
Resum'd his brother: vers'd in arms, my youth,
My prime, are strangers to the nuptial tie;
Yet, in thy bliss delighting, I would greet
A sister, auth'ress of this blooming troop.
With all the clust'ring children at his side
He pass'd the threshold, and their mother hail'd.
Now o'er their heads the equinoctial gusts
Begin to chace the clouds; by tempests torn,
The hoarse Euripus sends a distant sound.
Twelve days are spent in sweet domestic joy;
Serenity returns. The master warns;
Departing Medon reascends the bark,
Whose rudder stems the celebrated frith,
Where twice sev'n times the sun and stars behold
Reciprocating floods. Three days are pass'd
When Sunium, Attic promontory, shades
The resting sail; Belbina thence they seek
By morn's new glance, and reach at dewy eve.
Athenian too Belbina yields a port
To night-o'ertaken sailors in their course
Between Cecropia and Troezene's walls.
A squadron there is moor'd; Cleander there,
Now ev'ry public duty well discharg'd
Dismiss'd him glorious to his native roof,
Was disembark'd. Contemplating in thought
His Ariphilia, for the day's return
He languish'd; ev'ry Nereid he invok'd
To speed his keel. Him Medon, landing, greets;
To whom Cleander: On Calauria first
We interchang'd embraces; now accept
A salutation doubly warm, O chief!
By Aristides pris'd, his second bold
In high exploits, which signalize an isle
Obscure before, Psyttalia; be my guest
This night at least: He said; they pass'd aboard
With Haliartus and the Delphian seer.
A gen'rous meal concluded, Medon spake:
Troezenian chief, now give the mind repast;
I have been absent long; when first the flight
Of Asia's host and shatter'd fleet was known,
From Salamis I hoisted sail. To hear
Of Aristides and the laurell'd son
Of Neocles, to hear of all the brave,
Whose high achievements consecrate that day,
From thy narration would delight my soul.
Cleander then began: To council call'd
By Eurybiades, the leading Greeks
A while debated, if their fleet combin'd
Should sail to break the Hellespontine bridge?
This he oppos'd; I readily had join'd
Th' Athenian people, eager by themselves
Without auxiliar Grecians, to pursue
The arrogant invader; but the tribes,
In form assembled, with dissuasive words,
Themistocles thus cool'd. I oft have seen,
Have oftner heard, that vanquish'd men, constrain'd
By desperation, have their loss repair'd
In fight renew'd. Repelling such a cloud
Of enemies from Greece, contented rest;
The pow'r of gods and heroes, not our own,
Achiev'd the deed; pursue not those who fly.
Resort to Athens; in their old abodes
Replace your women, such obsequious wives,
Such daughters; reinstate your native walls,
Rebuild your ruin'd mansions; sow your fields,
Prevent a dearth; by early spring unfurl
Your active sails, then shake the eastern shores.
He last propos'd, that exiles be recall'd.
Loud acclamations rose; the honour'd name
Of Aristides thunder'd on the beach.
O wise Athenians! Medon cordial here:
O happy man, whose happiness is plac'd
In virtuous actions! happiest now a scope
Is giv'n unbounded to thy hand and heart!
Proceed Cleander. He his tale renews:
Th' Athenians launch their gallies, all embark
With Aristides, chosen to that charge.
I set my ready canvass to perform
The last kind office, from Calauria's isle
And Troezen's walls to wast their wives and race,
Left in our trust. Meantime the diff'rent chiefs
Meet on the isthmus, summon'd to decide
Who best had serv'd the public, who might claim
The highest honours. Every leader names
Himseif the first, but all concurrent own
Themistocles the second. Envy still
Prevails; without decision they disperse,
Each to his home. Themistocles incens'd,
In eager quest of honours justly due,
Withheld unjustly, not to Athens bends
His hast'ning step, but Sparta…Medon here:
Not so would Aristides-but forgive
My interrupting voice. The youth pursues:
In Athens him I join'd, a people found,
Whom fortune never by her frown depress'd,
Nor satisfied with favour. Active all,
Laborious, cheerful, they persist in toil,
To heave the hills of ruin from their streets,
Without repining at their present loss,
Intent on future greatness, to be rais'd
On persevering fortitude: The word
Of Aristides guides. Amidst a scene
Of desolation, decency provides
The fun'ral pomp for those illustrious slain
At Salamis; th' insculptur'd tomb I saw
Preparing; they already have ordain'd
A distant day to solemnize the rites;
The mouth of Aristides they decree
To celebrate the valiant, who have died
For Athens. While Themistocles accepts
A foreign praise in Sparta, olive crowns,
A car selected from the public store,
A guard, three hundred citizens high-rank'd,
Him through their tracts are chosen to attend,
Excess of rev'rence, by that rigid state
Ne'er shewn before. To small Troezene's walls
To-morrow I return with less renown,
With less desert, perhaps to purer bliss.
My Ariphilia calls her soldier home
To give her nuptial hand. My welcome guest
You I invite; the season rude of Mars
Is clos'd; new combats will the spring supply;
Th' autumnal remnant, winter hov'ring near,
Let us possess in peace. Then Timon spake:
Young chief, I praise thee; be a husband soon,
Be soon a parent; thou wilt bear thy shield
With constancy redoubled. If defence
Of our forefathers, sleeping in their tombs,
So oft unsheaths our swords, more strongly sure
Th' endearing, living objects of our love
Must animate the gen'rous, good, and brave.
I am unworthy of that praise, in smiles
Subjoins the Locrian; but thou know'st, my friend,
I have a brother, of a copious stream
The source, he, call'd to battle, shall maintain
Oïlean fame. Cleander, I am bound
To Lacedæmon; treasure there I left,
Which, well exchang'd for nature'd foodful gifts,
I would transport to Atalanté's shore,
Seat of that brother; who, Leonteus nam'd,
With brave companions there in refugh lies,
A future aid to Greece. A list'ning ear
Cleander yields, while Medon's lips unwind
The varied series of events befall'n
Himself and Timon, Amarantha fair,
The Carian queen, and Meliboeus chang'd
To Haliartus. By th' immortal gods
We will not sep'rate, fervent cries the youth;
My Ariphilia, who is wise and good,
Will entertain society like yours,
As Æthiopia, in Mæonian song,
Receives to pure and hospitable roofs
Her visitants from heav'n. Let youth advise,
Not inexperienc'd, but o'er land and sea
To early action train'd; retaining all
Your narrative heart-piercing, I perceive
Your wants, and feel impatience to befriend;
My lightest keel to Salamis shall bear
Thy orders, Timon, for the Delphian barks,
There left behind you, in Troezene's port
To join you straight. His counsel they accept.
The moon is rising, Salamis not far;
The will of Timon to his Delphian train
Is swiftly borne. The squadron next proceeds,
Passing Troezene by, whose gen'rous chief
Accompanies to shore his Locrian guest
At Cynosura. Spartan is this port,
He said; with fifty followers speed thy way;
Commit no treasure to the faithless winds;
By land return to find thy ready barks,
Well-fill'dfrom Troezen's stores. They part; he sails
To joyful welcome on his native shores.
When now, unveiling slowly, as she rolls,
Her brother's light the moon reflected full,
Auspicious period for connubial rites,
From Lacedæmon hast'ning, Medon gains
Troezene's ramparts; him Cleander chose
His paranymph to lead the bridal steps
Of Ariphilia. To Calauria's verge
He pass'd; beneath a nuptial chaplet gay
He wore his crisped hair; of purest white
A tunic wrapp'd his sinewy chest and loins,
A glowing mantle, new in Tyrian dye,
Fell down his shoulders. Up the shelving lawn
The high Neptunian structure he attains,
Where with her parents Ariphilia waits
Attir'd in roses like her hue, herself
As Flora fair, or Venus at her birth,
When from the ocean with unrifl'd charms
The virgin goddess sprung. Yet, far unlike
A maid sequester'd from the public eye,
She, early train'd in dignity and state,
In sanctity of manners to attract
A nation's rev'rence, to th' advancing chief
In sweet composure unreluctant yields
Her bridal hand, who down the vaulted isle,
Where echo joins the hymeneal song,
Conducts the fair; before the costly shrine,
Perfum'd with incense, and with garlands deck'd,
Presents her charms, and thus in manly pray'r:
My patron god, from Salamis I come,
One of thy naval sons, erecting there
Thy recent trophies; let me hence convey
With thy concurrent smile this precious prize,
Thy sacerdotal virgin. I return
To thee a pious votary, to her
A constant lover; on thy servants pour
Thy nuptial blessing. Yet, earth-shaking god,
Not bound in sloth thy warrior shall repose,
Nor languishing obscure in sweetest bliss
Desert thy glory. Soon as wintry storms
Thy nod controls, and vernal breezes court
The unfurling canvass, my unweary'd helm
Shall cleave thy floods, till each Barbarian coast
Acknowledge thy supremacy, and bow
To Grecian Neptune. Credulous the train,
Surrounding, in religious rapture see
The colossean image of their god
Smile on their hero, meriting the smiles
Of deities and mortals. Fortune adds
Her casual favour; on Cleander's mast
To perch, a pair of turtle doves she sends
From Neptune's temple. To his vessel crown'd
With Hymen's wreaths, bestrewn with herbs and flow'rs,
Exhaling fragrance, down the slope he guides
His Ariphilia, priestess now no more.
So Hermes, guardian of the Graces, leads
Their chief, Aglaia, o'er th' Olympian hall,
Warn'd by the muses, in preluding strains,
The dance on heav'n's bright pavement to begin,
And charm the festive gods. The flood repass'd,
They, as Troezenian institutes require,
The fane of young Hippolytus approach,
That victim pure to chastity, who left
Old Theseus childless. From the youthful heads
Of both their hair is sever'd, on his shrine
Their maiden off'ring laid, They next ascend
An awful structure, facred to the Fates,
There grateful own that goodness which decreed
Their happy union. To the Graces last
Their vows are paid, divinities benign,
Whom Ariphilia fervent thus invokes:
O goddesses, who all its sweetness shed
On human life! whate'er is beauteous here,
Illustrious, happy, to your favour owes
Its whole endearment; wanting you, our deeds
Are cold and joyless. In my husband's eye
Preserve me lovely, not in form alone,
But that supreme of graces in my sex,
Complacency of love. She pray'd; her look
Reveal'd, that heav'n would ratify her pray'r.
Now in her father's dwelling they remain
Till dusky ev'ning. On a bridal car,
Constructed rich, the paranymph then seats
The blooming fair; one side Cleander fills,
The other Medon, she between them rides,
By torches clear preceded. Lively sounds
The ceremonial music; soon they reach
The bridegroom's mansion; there a feast receives
Unnumber'd friends; the nuptial dance and song
Are now concluded. To her fragrant couch
A joyful mother lights the blushing bride;
Cleander follows; in the chamber shut,
He leaves the guests exulting to revive
Their song to Hymen, and renew the dance.
Three days succeeding were to gymnic feats
Devoted; Medon's warlike spear obtains
A second chaplet; Haliartus won
The wrestler's prize; to hurl the massy disk
None match'd the skill of Timon, still robust,
Tho' rev'rend threads of silver had begun
To streak his locks of sable. Southern gales
Now call on Medon's laden fleet to sail,
Ere winter frowns. With Timon at his side,
And Haliartus, in this gentle phrase
His noble host and hostess fair he greets:
May ev'ry joy kind wishes can devise,
Or language utter, hospitable pair,
Be yours for ever! may a num'rous race
In virtue grow by your parental care!-
With sev'n dear pledges of connubial love
I left a brother, watching my return
In Atalanté, small, exhausted isle,
Which needs my instant succour. Gen'rous friend,
To thee I trust my treasure, thou discharge
The claim of Troezen for th' abundant stores
Which load our vessels; for a time farewell,
The vernal sun will see our love renew'd,
And swords combin'd against Mardonius bold.
He said: the lovely Ariphilia weeps;
Cleander sighs, but speeds his parting guests.

End of the Tenth Book