Blood stain'd her cheeks, and from her mouth there
Blue steaming poisons, and a length of flame.
From ev'ry blast of her contagious breath
Famine and drought proceed, and plagues, and death.
A robe obscene was o'er her shoulders thrown,
A dress, by Fates and Furies worn alone.
She toss'd her meagre arms; her better hand
In waving circles whirl'd a fun'ral brand;
A serpent from her left was seen to rear
His flaming crest, and lash the yielding air.
But when the Fury took her stand on high,
Where vast Citharon's top salutes the sky,
A hiss from all the snaky tire went round;
The dreadful signal all the rocks rebound,
And through th' Achaian cities send the sound.
Oete, with high Parnassus, heard the voice, 165
Eurotas' banks remurmur'd to the noise;
Again Leucothoe shook at these alarms,
And press'd Palæmon closer in her arms.
Headlong from thence the glowing Fury springs,
And o'er the Theban palace spreads her wings;
Once more invades the guilty dome, and shrouds
Its bright pavilions in a veil of clouds;
Strait with the rage of all their race possest,
Stung to the soul, the brothers start from rest,
And all the furies wake within their breast: 175
Their tortur'd minds repining Envy tears,
And Hate, engender'd by suspicious fears;
And sacred thirst of sway; and all the ties
Of Nature broke; and royal perjuries;
And impotent desire to reign alone,
That scorns the dull reversion of a throne;
Each would the sweets of sov'reign rule devour,
While Discord waits upon divided pow'r.
As stubborn steers, by brawny ploughmen broke, And join'd reluctant to the galling yoke, Alike disdain with servile necks to bear
Th' unwonted weight, or drag the crooked share,
But rend the reins, and bound a diff'rent way,
And all the furrows in confusion lay;
Such was the discord of the royal pair,
Whom fury drove precipitate to war.
In vain the chiefs contriv'd a specious way,
Το
govern Thebes by their alternate sway:
Unjust decree! while this enjoys the state,
That mourns in exile his unequal fate;
And the short monarch of a hasty year
Foresees with anguish his returning heir.
Thus did the league their impious arms restrain,
But scarce subsisted to the second reign.
Yet then no proud aspiring piles were rais'd, 200
No fretted roofs with polish'd metals blaz❜d;
No labor'd columns in long order plac'd,
No Grecian stone the pompous arches grac'd;
No nightly bands in glitt'ring armor wait
Before the sleepless tyrant's guarded gate;
No chargers then were wrought in burnish'd gold,
Nor silver vases took the forming mould;
Nor gems on bowls emboss'd were seen to shine,
Blaze on the brims, and sparkle in the wine-
Say, wretched rivals! what provokes your rage?
Say to what end your impious arms engage ? 211
Not all bright Phoebus views in early morn,
Or when his ev'ning beams the west adorn,
When the south glows with his meridian ray,
And the cold north receives a fainter day;
For crimes like these not all those realms suffice,
Were all those realms the guilty victor's prize!
But Fortune now (the lots of empire thrown) Decrees to proud Eteccles the crown; 219 What joys, O Tyrant! swell'd thy soul that day, When all were slaves thou couldst around survey! Pleas'd to behold unbounded pow'r thy own, And singly fill a fear'd and envy'd throne !
But the vile vulgar, ever discontent,
Their growing fears in secret murmurs vent; 225 Still prone to change, though still the slaves of
And sure the monarch whom they have, to hate;
New lords they madly make, then tamely bear,
And softly curse the tyrants whom they fear.
And one of those who groan beneath the sway
Of kings impos'd, and grudgingly obey,
(Whom envy to the great, and vulgar spite, With scandal arm'd, th' ignoble mind's delight) Exclaim'd- O Thebes! for thee what fates re
What woes attend this inauspicious reign?
alas! our doubtful necks prepare, Each haughty master's yoke by turns to bear, And still to change whom chang'd we still must fear?
These now control a wretched people's fate,
These can divide, and these reverse the state; 240
Ev'n Fortune rules no more-O servile land,
Where exil'd tyrants still by turns command!
Thou sire of gods and men, imperial Jove!
Is this th' eternal doom decreed above?
On thy own offspring hast thou fix'd this fate 245
From the first birth of our unhappy state,
When banish'd Cadmus, wand'ring o'er the main,
For lost Europa search'd the world in vain,
And fated in Ecotian fields to found
A rising empire on a foreign ground,
First rais'd our walls on that ill-omen'd plain,
Where earth-born brothers were by brothers slain ?
What lofty looks th' unrivall'd' monarch bears!
How all the tyrant in his face appears!
What sullen fury clouds his scornful brow! 255
Gods! how his eyes with threat'ning ardor glow!
Can this imperious lord forget to reign,
Quit all his state, descend, and serve again?
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.
O wretched we! a vile submissive train,
Fortune's tame fools, and slaves in ev'ry reign!
As when two winds with rival force contend, This way, and that, the wav'ring sails they bend, While freezing Boreas and black Eurus blow, Now here, now there, the reeling vessel throw; Thus on each side, alas! our tott'ring state Feels all the fury of resistless fate;
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 heav'ns 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,
The Majesty of heav'n 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 pow'rs
Ascend from hills, and plains, and shady bow'rs;
Those from whose urns the rolling rivers flow,
And those that give the wand'ring winds to blow:
Here all their rage, and ev'n their murmurs, cease,
And sacred silence reigns, and universal peace.
A shining synod of majestic gods,
Gilds with new lustre the divine abodes;
|