Yet who, before, more popularly bow'd?

Who more propitious to the suppliant crowd? 260 Patient of right, familiar in the throne, What wonder then? he was not then alone.

Oh wretched we! a vile, submissive train, Fortune's tame fools, and slaves in every reign!

'As when two winds with rival force contend, This way and that the wavering sails they bend, While freezing Boreas and black Eurus blow, Now here, now there, the reeling vessel throw; Thus on each side, alas! our tottering state Feels all the fury of resistless fate, 270 And doubtful still, and still distracted stands, While that prince threatens, and while this commands.'

And now th' almighty Father of the gods Convenes a council in the bless'd abodes.

Far in the bright recesses of the skies, High o'er the rolling heavens, a mansion lies, Whence, far below, the gods at once survey The realms of rising and declining day, And all th' extended space of earth, and air, and sea.

Full in the midst, and on a starry throne, 280 The Majesty of heaven superior shone: Serene he look'd, and gave an awful nod, And all the trembling spheres confess'd the god.

At Jove's assent the deities around In solemn state the consistory crown'd.

Next a long order of inferior powers Ascend from hills, and plains, and shady bowers; Those from whose urns the rolling rivers flow, And those that give the wandering winds to blow: Here all their rage and ev'n their murmurs cease, 290 And sacred silence reigns, and universal peace.

A shining synod of majestic gods Gilds with new lustre the divine abodes: Heaven seems improved with a superior ray, And the bright arch reflects a double day.

The monarch then his solemn silence broke, The still creation listen'd while he spoke; Each sacred accent bears eternal weight, And each irrevocable word is fate.

'How long shall man the wrath of Heaven defy, 300 And force unwilling vengeance from the sky?

O race confederate into crimes, that prove Triumphant o'er th' eluded rage of Jove!

This wearied arm can scarce the bolt sustain, And unregarded thunder rolls in vain: Th' o'erlabour'd Cyclops from his task retires, Th' AEolian forge exhausted of its fires.

For this, I suffer'd Phoebus' steeds to stray, And the mad ruler to misguide the day, When the wide earth to heaps of ashes turn'd, 310 And Heaven itself the wandering chariot burn'd: For this my brother of the watery reign Released the impetuous sluices of the main; But flames consumed, and billows raged in vain.

Two races now, allied to Jove, offend; To punish these, see Jove himself descend.

The Theban kings their line from Cadmus trace, From godlike Perseus those of Argive race.

Unhappy Cadmus' fate who does not know, And the long series of succeeding woe? 320 How oft the Furies, from the deeps of night, Arose, and mix'd with men in mortal fight; Th' exulting mother stain'd with filial blood, The savage hunter and the haunted wood?

The direful banquet why should I proclaim, And crimes that grieve the trembling gods to name?

Ere I recount the sins of these profane, The sun would sink into the western main, And, rising, gild the radiant east again.

Have we not seen (the blood of Laius shed) 330 The murdering son ascend his parent's bed, Through violated nature force his way, And stain the sacred womb where once he lay?

Yet now in darkness and despair he groans, And for the crimes of guilty fate atones; His sons with scorn their eyeless father view, Insult his wounds, and make them bleed anew.

Thy curse, O OEdipus! just Heaven alarms, And sets th' avenging Thunderer in arms.

I from the root thy guilty race will tear, 340 And give the nations to the waste of war.

Adrastus soon, with gods averse, shall join In dire alliance with the Theban line; Hence strife shall rise, and mortal war succeed; The guilty realms of Tantalus shall bleed: Fix'd is their doom. This all-remembering breast Yet harbours vengeance for the tyrant's feast.'

He said; and thus the queen of heaven return'd: (With sudden grief her labouring bosom burn'd) 'Must I, whose cares Phoroneus' towers defend, 350 Must I, O Jove! in bloody wars contend?

Thou know'st those regions my protection claim, Glorious in arms, in riches, and in fame: Though there the fair Egyptian heifer fed, And there deluded Argus slept and bled: Though there the brazen tower was storm'd of old, When Jove descended in almighty gold!

Yet I can pardon those obscurer rapes, Those bashful crimes disguised in borrow'd shapes; But Thebes, where, shining in celestial charms, 360 Thou cam'st triumphant to a mortal's arms, When all my glories o'er her limbs were spread, And blazing lightnings danced around her bed; Cursed Thebes the vengeance it deserves may prove-- Ah! why should Argos feel the rage of Jove?

Yet since thou wilt thy sister-queen control, Since still the lust of discord fires thy soul, Go, raze my Samos, let Mycene fall, And level with the dust the Spartan wall; No more let mortals Juno's power invoke, 370 Her fanes no more with Eastern incense smoke, Nor victims sink beneath the sacred stroke!

But to your Isis all my rights transfer, Let altars blaze and temples smoke for her; For her, through Egypt's fruitful clime renown'd, Let weeping Nilus hear the timbrel sound.

But if thou must reform the stubborn times, Avenging on the sons the fathers' crimes, And from the long records of distant age Derive incitements to renew thy rage; 380 Say, from what period then has Jove design'd To date his vengeance? to what bounds confined?

Begin from thence, where first Alpheus hides His wandering stream, and through the briny tides Unmix'd to his Sicilian river glides.

Thy own Arcadians there the thunder claim, Whose impious rites disgrace thy mighty name; Who raise thy temples where the chariot stood Of fierce Oenomaus, defiled with blood; Where once his steeds their savage banquet found, 390 And human bones yet whiten all the ground.

Say, can those honours please? and canst thou love Presumptuous Crete, that boasts the tomb of Jove?

And shall not Tantalus's kingdoms share Thy wife and sister's tutelary care?

Reverse, O Jove! thy too severe decree, Nor doom to war a race derived from thee; On impious realms and barbarous kings impose Thy plagues, and curse them with such sons[57] as those.'

Thus in reproach and prayer the queen express'd 400 The rage and grief contending in her breast; Unmoved remain'd the ruler of the sky, And from his throne return'd this stern reply: ''Twas thus I deem'd thy haughty soul would bear The dire, though just revenge which I prepare Against a nation thy peculiar care: No less Dione might for Thebes contend.

Nor Bacchus less his native town defend; Yet these in silence see the Fates fulfil Their work, and reverence our superior will: 410 For by the black infernal Styx I swear, (That dreadful oath which binds the Thunderer) 'Tis fix'd, th' irrevocable doom of Jove; No force can bend me, no persuasion more.

Haste then, Cyllenius, through the liquid air; Go, mount the winds, and to the shades repair; Bid hell's black monarch my commands obey, And give up Laius to the realms of day, Whose ghost yet shivering on Cocytus' sand Expects its passage to the further strand: 420 Let the pale sire revisit Thebes, and bear These pleasing orders to the tyrant's ear; That, from his exiled brother, swell'd with pride Of foreign forces and his Argive bride, Almighty Jove commands him to detain The promised empire, and alternate reign: Be this the cause of more than mortal hate; The rest, succeeding times shall ripen into fate.'

The god obeys, and to his feet applies Those golden wings that cut the yielding skies; 430 His ample hat his beamy locks o'erspread, And veil'd the starry glories of his head.

He seized the wand that causes sleep to fly, Or in soft slumbers seals the wakeful eye; That drives the dead to dark Tartarean coasts, Or back to life compels the wandering ghosts.

Thus through the parting clouds the son of May Wings on the whistling winds his rapid way; Now smoothly steers through air his equal flight, Now springs aloft, and towers th' ethereal height: 440 Then wheeling down the steep of heaven he flies, And draws a radiant circle o'er the skies.

Meantime the banish'd Polynices roves (His Thebes abandon'd) through the Aonian groves, While future realms his wandering thoughts delight, His daily vision, and his dream by night; Forbidden Thebes appears before his eye, From whence he sees his absent brother fly, With transport views the airy rule his own, And swells on an imaginary throne. 450 Fain would he cast a tedious age away, And live out all in one triumphant day.

He chides the lazy progress of the sun, And bids the year with swifter motion run: With anxious hopes his craving mind is toss'd And all his joys in length of wishes lost.

The hero then resolves his course to bend Where ancient Danaus' fruitful fields extend; And famed Mycene's lofty towers ascend; (Where late the sun did Atreus' crimes detest, 460 And disappear'd in horror of the feast).

And now by chance, by fate, or furies led, From Bacchus' consecrated caves he fled, Where the shrill cries of frantic matrons sound, And Pentheus' blood enrich'd the rising ground; Then sees Cithaeron towering o'er the plain, And thence declining gently to the main; Next to the bounds of Nisus' realm repairs, Where treacherous Scylla cut the purple hairs; The hanging cliffs of Scyron's rock explores, 470 And hears the murmurs of the different shores; Passes the strait that parts the foaming seas, And stately Corinth's pleasing site surveys.

'Twas now the time when Phoebus yields to night, And rising Cynthia sheds her silver light; Wide o'er the world in solemn pomp she drew Her airy chariot, hung with pearly dew: All birds and beasts lie hush'd; sleep steals away The wild desires of men, and toils of day, And brings, descending through the silent air, 480 A sweet forgetfulness of human care.

Yet no red clouds, with golden borders gay, Promise the skies the bright return of day; No faint reflections of the distant light Streak with long gleams the scattering shades of night: From the damp earth impervious vapours rise, Increase the darkness, and involve the skies.

At once the rushing winds with roaring sound Burst from th' aeolian caves, and rend the ground; With equal rage their airy quarrel try, 490 And win by turns the kingdom of the sky; But with a thicker night black Auster shrouds The heavens, and drives on heaps the rolling clouds, From whose dark womb a rattling tempest pours, Which the cold north congeals to haily showers.

From pole to pole the thunder roars aloud, And broken lightnings flash from every cloud.

Now smokes with showers the misty mountain-ground, And floated fields lie undistinguish'd round; Th' Inachian streams with headlong fury run, 500 And Erasinus rolls a deluge on; The foaming Lerna swells above its bounds, And spreads its ancient poisons o'er the grounds: Where late was dust, now rapid torrents play, Rush through the mounds, and bear the dams away: Old limbs of trees, from crackling forests torn, Are whirl'd in air, and on the winds are borne: The storm the dark Lycaean groves display'd, And first to light exposed the sacred shade.

Th' intrepid Theban hears the bursting sky, Sees yawning rocks in massy fragments fly, And views astonish'd, from the hills afar, The floods descending, and the watery war, 510 That, driven by storms, and pouring o'er the plain, Swept herds, and hinds, and houses to the main.

Through the brown horrors of the night he fled, Nor knows, amazed, what doubtful path to tread; His brother's image to his mind appears, Inflames his heart with rage, and wings his feet with fears.

So fares the sailor on the stormy main, 520 When clouds conceal Bootes' golden wain, When not a star its friendly lustre keeps, Nor trembling Cynthia glimmers on the deeps; He dreads the rocks, and shoals, and seas, and skies, While thunder roars, and lightning round him flies.

Thus strove the chief, on every side distress'd; Thus still his courage with his toils increased: With his broad shield opposed, he forced his way Through thickest woods, and roused the beasts of prey Till he beheld, where from Larissa's height, 530 The shelving walls reflect a glancing light: Thither with haste the Theban hero flies; On this side Lerna's poisonous water lies, On that Prosymna's grove and temple rise: He pass'd the gates which then unguarded lay, And to the regal palace bent his way; On the cold marble, spent with toil, he lies, And waits till pleasing slumbers seal his eyes.

Adrastus here his happy people sways, Bless'd with calm peace in his declining days; 540 By both his parents of descent divine, Great Jove and Phoebus graced his noble line: Heaven had not crown'd his wishes with a son, But two fair daughters heir'd his state and throne.

To him Apollo (wondrous to relate!

But who can pierce into the depths of fate?) Had sung--'Expect thy sons on Argos' shore, A yellow lion and a bristly boar.'

This, long revolved in his paternal breast, Sat heavy on his heart, and broke his rest; 550 This, great Amphiaraus! lay hid from thee, Though skill'd in fate and dark futurity.

The father's care and prophet's art were vain, For thus did the predicting god ordain.

Lo, hapless Tydeus, whose ill-fated hand Had slain his brother, leaves his native land, And, seized with horror, in the shades of night, Through the thick deserts headlong urged his flight: Now by the fury of the tempest driven, He seeks a shelter from th' inclement heaven, 560 Till, led by fate, the Theban's steps he treads, And to fair Argos' open court succeeds.

When thus the chiefs from different lands resort To Adrastus' realms and hospitable court, The king surveys his guests with curious eyes, And views their arms and habit with surprise.

A lion's yellow skin the Theban wears, Horrid his mane, and rough with curling hairs: Such once employ'd Alcides' youthful toils, Ere yet adorn'd with Nemea's dreadful spoils. 570 A boar's stiff hide, of Calydonian breed, Oenides' manly shoulders overspread; Oblique his tusks, erect his bristles stood, Alive, the pride and terror of the wood.

Struck with the sight, and fix'd in deep amaze, The king th' accomplish'd oracle surveys, Reveres Apollo's vocal caves, and owns The guiding godhead, and his future sons.

O'er all his bosom secret transports reign, And a glad horror shoots through every vein: 580 To heaven he lifts his hands, erects his sight, And thus invokes the silent queen of night:

'Goddess of shades! beneath whose gloomy reign Yon spangled arch glows with the starry train; You who the cares of heaven and earth allay Till nature, quicken'd by th' inspiring ray, Wakes to new vigour with the rising day: O thou who freest me from my doubtful state, Long lost and wilder'd in the maze of fate, Be present still, O goddess! in our aid; 590 Proceed, and firm those omens thou hast made.

We to thy name our annual rites will pay, And on thy altars sacrifices lay; The sable flock shall fall beneath the stroke, And fill thy temples with a grateful smoke.

Hail, faithful Tripos! hail, ye dark abodes Of awful Phoebus; I confess the gods!'

Thus, seized with sacred fear, the monarch pray'd; Then to his inner court the guests convey'd, Where yet thin fumes from dying sparks arise, 600 And dust yet white upon each altar lies, The relics of a former sacrifice.

The king once more the solemn rites requires, And bids renew the feasts and wake the fires.

His train obey; while all the courts around With noisy care and various tumult sound.

Embroider'd purple clothes the golden beds; This slave the floor, and that the table spreads; A third dispels the darkness of the night, And fills depending lamps with beams of light; 610 Here loaves in canisters are piled on high, And there in flames the slaughter'd victims fly.

Sublime in regal state Adrastus shone, Stretch'd on rich carpets on his ivory throne; A lofty couch receives each princely guest; Around, at awful distance, wait the rest.

And now the king, his royal feast to grace, Acestis calls, the guardian of his race, Who first their youth in arts of virtue train'd, And their ripe years in modest grace maintain'd; 620 Then softly whisper'd in her faithful ear, And bade his daughters at the rites appear.

When from the close apartments of the night The royal nymphs approach, divinely bright, Such was Diana's, such Minerva's face; Nor shine their beauties with superior grace, But that in these a milder charm endears, And less of terror in their looks appears.

As on the heroes first they cast their eyes, O'er their fair cheeks the glowing blushes rise; 630 Their downcast looks a decent shame confess'd, Then on their father's reverend features rest.

The banquet done, the monarch gives the sign To fill the goblet high with sparkling wine, Which Danaus used in sacred rites of old, With sculpture graced, and rough with rising gold: Here to the clouds victorious Perseus flies, Medusa seems to move her languid eyes, And, e'en in gold, turns paler as she dies: There from the chase Jove's towering eagle bears, 640 On golden wings, the Phrygian to the stars; Still as he rises in th' ethereal height, His native mountains lessen to his sight, While all his sad companions upward gaze, Fix'd on the glorious scene in wild amaze; And the swift hounds, affrighted as he flies, Run to the shade, and bark against the skies.

This golden bowl with generous juice was crown'd, The first libation sprinkled on the ground; By turns on each celestial power they call; 650 With Phoebus' name resounds the vaulted hall.

The courtly train, the strangers, and the rest, Crown'd with chaste laurel, and with garlands dress'd, While with rich gums the fuming altars blaze, Salute the god in numerous hymns of praise.