Or are you injur'd, and demand relief?
Name your request, and I will ease your grief.
The most in years of all the mourning train
Began (but fwooned first away for pain);
Then scarce recover'd spoke: nor envy we
Thy great renown, nor grudge thy victory;
'Tis thine, O king, th' afflicted to redress,
And fame has fill'd the world with thy fuccefs :
We wretched women fue for that alone,
Which of thy goodness is refus'd to none;
Let fall fome drops of pity on our grief,
If what we beg be just, and we deserve relief :
For none of us, who now thy grace implore,
But held the rank of fovereign queen before;
Till, thanks to giddy chance, which never bears,
That mortal blifs fhould last for length of years,
She caft us headlong from our high estate,
And here in hope of thy return we wait :
And long have waited in the temple nigh,
Built to the gracious goddefs Clemency.

But reverence thou the power whose name it bears,
Relieve th' opprefs'd, and wipe the widow's tears,
I, wretched I, have other fortune seen,

The wife of Capaneus, and once a queen :

At Thebes he fell; curst be the fatal day!
And all the reft thou feeft in this array,

To make their moan, their lords in battle loft

Before that town befieg'd by our confederate host:
But Creon, old and impious, who commands
The Theban city, and ufurps the lands,

Denies

Denies the rites of funeral fires to thofe
Whose breathless bodies yet he calls his foes.
Unburn'd, unbury'd, on a heap they lie;
Such is their fate, and fuch his tyranny;
No friend has leave to bear away the dead,
But with their lifelefs limbs his hounds are fed:
At this fhe fhriek'd aloud; the mournful train
Echo'd her grief, and, groveling on the plain,
With groans, and hands upheld, to move his mind,
Befought his pity to their helpless kind!

The prince was touch'd, his tears began to flow,
And, as his tender heart would break in two,
He figh'd; and could not but their fate deplore,
So wretched now, fo fortunate before.
Then lightly from his lofty feed he flew,
And raifing one by one the fuppliant crew,
To comfort each, full folemnly he swore,

That by the faith which knights to knighthood bore, And what e'er elfe to chivalry belongs,

He would not ceafe, till he reveng'd their wrongs :
That Greece fhould fee perform'd what he declar'd;
And cruel Creon find his juft reward.

He faid no more, but, fhunning all delay,
Rode on; nor enter'd Athens on his way :
But left his fifter and his queen behind,
And wav'd his royal banner in the wind:
Where in an argent field the god of war
Was drawn triumphant on his iron car;

| Red was his fword, and fhield, and whole attire,
And all the godhead feem'd to glow with fire;

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Ev'n the ground glitter'd where the standard flew,
And the green grafs was dy'd to fanguine hue.
High on his pointed lance his pennon bore
His Cretan fight, the conquer'd Minotaure :
The foldiers fhout around with generous rage,
And in that victory their own prefage.
He prais'd their ardour; inly pleas'd to fee
His hoft the flower of Grecian chivalry.
All day he march'd; and all th' enfuing night;
And faw the city with returning light.
The process of the war I need not tell,

How Thefeus conquer'd, and how Creon fell:
Or after, how by storm the walls were won,

Or how the victor fack'd and burn'd the town:
How to the ladies he reftor'd again

The bodies of their lords in battle flain :

And with what ancient rites they were interr'd;
All these to fitter times fhall be deferr'd:

I fpare the widows tears, their woeful cries,
And howling at their husbands obfequies;
How Thefeus at thefe funerals did affift,

And with what gifts the mourning dames difmifs'd.
Thus when the victor chief had Creon flain,
And conquer'd Thebes, he pitch'd upon the plain
His mighty camp, and, when the day return'd,
The country wafted, and the hamlets burn'd,
And left the pillagers, to rapine bred,
Without control to ftrip and spoil the dead.
There, in a heap of slain, among the rest
Two youthful knights they found beneath a load oppress'd

of

Of flaughter'd foes, whom firft to death they fent,
The trophies of their strength, a bloody monument.
Both fair, and both of royal blood they seem'd,
Whom kinfmen to the crown the heralds deem'd;
That day in equal arms they fought for fame;
Their fwords, their fhields, their furcoats, were the fame.
Close by each other laid, they prefs'd the ground,
Their manly bofoms pierc'd with many a griefly wound
Nor well alive, nor wholly dead they were,
But fome faint figns of feeble life appear:

The wandering breath was on the wing to part,
Weak was the pulfe, and hardly heav'd the heart.
These two were fifters' fons; and Arcite one,
Much fam'd in fields, with valiant Palamon..
From these their coftly arms the spoilers rent,
And foftly both convey'd to Thefeus' tent:
Whom known of Creon's line, and cur'd with care,
He to his city fent as prifoners of the war,
Hopeless of ranfom, and condemn'd to lie
In durance, doom'd a lingering death to die.
This done, he march'd away with warlike found,
And to his Athens turn'd with laurels crown'd,
Where happy long he liv'd, much lov'd, and more
renown'd.

But in a tower, and never to be loos'd,

The woeful captive kinfmen are inclos'd:

Thus year by year they pass, and day by day, Till once, 'twas on the morn of chearful May, The young Emilia, fairer to be seen

Than the fair lily on the flowery green,

More

More fresh than May herself in blossoms new,
For with the rofy colour strove her hue,
Wak'd, as her custom was, before the day,
To do th' observance due to sprightly May :
For fprightly May commands our youth to keep

The vigils of her night, and breaks their fluggard sleep;
Each gentle breast with kindly warmth fhe inoves;
Infpires new flames, revives extinguish'd loves.
In this remembrance Emily ere day
Arofe, and dress'd herself in rich array;
Fresh as the month, and as the morning fair;
Adown her shoulders fell her length of hair:
A ribband did the braided treffes bind,

The reft was loose, and wanton'd in the wind:
Aurora had but newly chas'd the night,
And purpled o'er the sky with blushing light,
When to the garden walk she took her way,
To sport and trip along in cool of day,

And offer maiden vows in honour of the May.
At every turn, fhe made a little ftand,
And thrust among the thorns her lily hand
'To draw the rofe, and every rose she drew
She shook the stalk, and brush'd away the dew:
Then party-colour'd flowers of white and red
She wove, to make a garland for her head :
This done, the fung and carol'd out fo clear,
That men and angels might rejoice to hear :
Ev'n wondering Philomel forgot to fing;
And learn'd from her to welcome-in the spring.

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