The world's first pilot for discovery sent,

When all the floods that bound the firmament

O'erwhelm'd the earth, conscience' calm joy t' increase,
Returns, fraught with the olive branch of peace."

He attempted to defend himself; but, false witnesses being produced to prove the accusation, he saw it would be vain to make any farther defence. An ominous silence intervenedPharonnida, struck with admiration at the demeanour and appearance of Argalia, could not refrain from tears-and she at the same time made a deep impression upon the heart of the prisoner. "Yet in this high

Tide of his blood, in a soft calm to die,
His yielding spirit now prepares to meet

Death, clothed in thoughts white as his winding sheet."

One of the assistant judges at length pronounced the fatal sentence, which was received by the prisoner with calm attention.

"His ev'ry look, só far

From vulgar passions, that unless amaz'd
At beauty's majesty, he sometimes gaz'd
Wildly on that, as emblems of more great

Glories than earth afforded, * * his fixed soul had not

Been stirred to passion.

Contracts his brow, nor did his thoughts pull down
One fainting spirit, wrapt in smother'd groans,

To clog his heart."

At the instant the court was rising, and the jailors hurrying Argalia away, Ariamnes arrived. Having related so much of the stranger's story as he was acquainted with, he prevailed upon the princess to suspend the execution of the sentence, until he had an opportunity of investigating the truth of the charge. The court was a second time about to break up, and was a second time interrupted by the abrupt entrance of Aphron, who, having been alarmed at the absence of his friend, had quitted his sick bed in search of him. He menaced the Court, if they dared to spill the blood of one so well allied in the adjacent state of Epirus; but all the grace that could be obtained was a reprieve for three days. There were at this time ambassadors from Epirus at the Spartan Court-Pharonnida sent for them, and discovered that Aphron was the son, and Argalia the adopted son, of one of them. The three days had expired,

and preparations were made for the execution of the noble prisoner.

Sorrow reigned in the heart of the princess-sad and alone, she remained in a room which overlooked the place of execution, and continually repaired to the window to take a last look at the engaging prisoner. The silence with which the spectators were waiting for the last fatal ceremony was suddenly broken, and Ariamnes, at the head of a troop of clowns, rushed through the crowd accompanied by Florenza, who had been beset and prevented from coming sooner by Almanzor, Florenza was called upon for her evidence, which the poet introduces in the following happy and delicate lines:

"And here vain art

Look on and envy, to behold how far

Thy strict rules (which our youth's affection are)
Nature transcends, in a discourse which she
With all the flowers of virgin modesty,

Not weeds of rhetoric, strewed; to hear her miss,

Or put a blush for a parenthesis,

In the relating that uncivil strife

Which her sad subject was—so near the life
Limns lovely virtue.

Argalia was of course set at liberty; and Almanzor, having disobeyed a summons for his appearance, was condemned to perpetual banishment. The curiosity of the king was excited by the novel scene which he had witnessed, and he requested the ambassador would relate the history of his adopted son, which he did in substance as follows:

One day, "about the birth o' th' sluggish morning, when the crusted earth was tinselled o'er with frost, and each sprig clad in winter's wool," Argalia, then an infant, was brought by two strangers to a cottage in the neighbourhood of the Epirot's country seat. The cottager's wife agreed to take charge of the infant, and they accordingly left it with her, having first suspended a rare and costly jewel round its neck. Here it was that Argalia, as he grew up, attracted the notice and gained the affection of the kind Epirot; and a brave achievement which he performed, called that "affection into useful action." The Epirot took him from his foster parents, and placed him in his own house as a companion to his son. The secret of his birth, however, still remained unknown. Such was the story of Euriolus. The ambassadors, with the two young friends, being about to return to their own country, Molarchus (the Spartan admiral) invited them previous to their departure to a marine fête, to be given to the court on board his own ship, of which

the poet has introduced a splendid and gorgeous description. Whilst the guests were in their full career of mirth, and unsuspicious of treachery, the admiral weighed anchor and set sail. The attendants at first imagined this to be a mere frolic to amuse the king, but observing the ship was doubling the cape, they began to suspect all was not right-they immediately rushed upon deck, where they were encountered by the armed crew, and a sharp contest took place between them. Meanwhile the admiral, under cover of the night, carried off the princess in a boat. The rest of the crew having taken care to bore such holes in the ship as would ensure her destruction, also betook themselves to the boats, and the ship soon afterwards went down. Argalia and his friend Aphron seized one of the crew's boats, and after a hard contest, in which Aphron was killed, got possession of it. Argalia rescued the king and Euriolus from a watery grave, but his noble friend Ariamnes perished. Guided by a friendly light, Argalia and his companions landed on a rocky island, where they found an empty boat, in which they learned the admiral had arrived with the princess, and retired to a castle on the island. Argalia, having manufactured a ladder out of the ropes of a decayed ship which was laid on the strand, immediately proceeded to the castle, scaled the walls, surprised and slew Molarchus, and carried off the princess in triumph to her father. The king,a s a token of his gratitude, appointed Argalia captain of the princess's guard; and returned to Corinth; while Pharonnida and Argalia retired to the vale of Ceres, where they spent some months in happy seclusion and free delights, which nourished and strengthened their mutual but unavowed attachment, the gentle and gradual progress of which, is described in a passage of great richness and beauty. In the midst of this delightful intercourse, Pharonnida was one night visited by a dream, from which, as it is distinguished by its vigorous conception and lofty strain of poetry, we shall venture to present our readers with an extract.

"A strong prophetic dream,

Diverting by enigmas nature's stream,

Long hovering through the portals of her mind
On vain phantastic wings, at length did find
The glimmerings of obstructed reason, by

A brighter beam of pure divinity
Led into supernatural light, whose rays
As much transcended reason's, as the day's
Dull mortal fires, faith apprehends to be
Beneath the glimmerings of divinity.
Her unimprisoned soul, disrob'd of all
Terrestrial thoughts, (like its original

In heaven, pure and immaculate) a fit
Companion for those bright angels' wit

Which the gods made their messengers, to bear
This sacred truth, seeming transported where,
Fix'd in the flaming centre of the world,
The heart o' th' mycrocosm, about which is hurl'd
The spangled curtains of the sky, within
Whose boundless orbs, the circling planets spin
Those threads of time, upon whose strength rely
The pond'rous burthens of mortality.

An adamantine world she sees, more pure,
More glorious far than this-fram'd to endure

The shock of dooms-day's darts."

This shadowy picture exhibited danger threatening Argalia and herself under a variety of fortunes; but terminated with the following happy prospect:

"A golden cloud did bow

From heav'n's fair arch, in which, Argalia seem'd,
Clad in bright armour, sitting, who redeem'd
Her from approaching danger; which being done,
The darkness vanish'd, and the glorious sun
Of welcome light display'd its beams, by which
A throne the first resembling, but more rich
In its united glory, to the eye

Presents its lustre, where in majesty,

The angels that attend their better fate,

Plac'd her and brave Argalia-in which state,
The unbarr'd portals of her soul let fly

The golden slumber."

In the morning, whilst the princess was brooding over her midnight joys, Argalia brought her a packet from her father, intimating that nothing would contribute more to the security of his kingdom, than her marriage with the Epirot prince Zoranza. The packet also contained Zoranza's picture, and a blunt letter of courtship from him. Pharonnida deeply afflicted at these communications, as Argalia was withdrawing to convey her answer to Epirus, although not out of hearing, burst into a strain of vehement and eloquent passion, which we cannot forbear extracting.

1

"Unhappy soul! born only to infuse
Pearls of delight with vinegar, and lose
Content for honor; is't a sin to be
Born high, that robs me of my liberty?

Or is't the curse of greatness to behold
Virtue through such false opticks as unfold

No splendour, 'less from equal orbs they shine?
What Heaven made free, ambitious men confine
In regular degrees. Poor Love must dwell
Within no climate but what's parallel

Unto our honor'd births; the envied fate

Of princes, oft these burthens find from state,
When lowly swains, knowing no parent's voice.
A negative, make a free happy choice.'-

And here she sighed; then with some drops, distill'd
From Love's most sovereign elixir, fill'd

The chrystal fountains of her eyes, which ere
Dropp'd down, she thus recals again. But ne'er,
Ne'er, my Argalia, shall these fears destroy
My hopes of thee: Heaven! let me but enjoy
So much of all those blessings, which their birth
Can take from frail mortality; and Earth,
Contracting all her curses, cannot make
A storm of danger loud enough to shake
Me to a trembling penitence; a curse,
To make the horror of my suffering worse,
Sent in a father's name, like vengeance fell
From angry Heav'n, upon my head may dwell
In an eternal stain,-my honor'd name
With pale disgrace may languish,-busy fame
My reputation spot,-affection be

Term'd uncommanded lust,-sharp poverty,
That weed that kills the gentle flow'r of love,
As the result of all these ills, may prove
My greatest misery,-unless to find
Myself unpitied. Yet not so unkind
Would I esteem this mercenary band,

As those far more malignant powers that stand,
Arm'd with dissuasions, to obstruct the way
Fancy directs; but let those souls obey

Their harsh commands, that stand in fear to shed
Repentant tears: I am resolved to tread

Those doubtful paths, through all the shades of fear
That now benights them. Love, with pity hear
Thy suppliant's prayer, and when my clouded eyes
Shall cease to weep, in smiles I'll sacrifice
To thee such offerings, that the utmost date
Of death's rough hands shall never violate."

p. 86, end of B. 1.