And sternly beauteous in the meteor’s light, Shot through the tempest of Emesa’s fight. While trembling captives round the victor wait, Hang on his eye, and catch the word of fate, Zenobia’s self must quail beneath his nod, A kneeling suppliant to the mimic god. But one there stood amid that abject throng, In truth triumphant, and in virtue strong; Beamed on his brow the soul which, undismayed. Smiled at the rod, and scorned the uplifted blade. O’er thee, Palmyra, darkness seems to lower The boding terrors of that fearful hour; Far from thy glade indignant freedom fled, And hope too withered as Longinus bled[61]. Palmyra, having become subject to a foreign yoke, bore the burthen with impatience. The inhabitants cut off the Roman garrison. On which Aurelian instantly returned, took the town, destroyed it, and put to death most of its population, without distinction of age or sex. The slaughter was so extensive, that none were left to plough the adjacent lands. Aurelian soon repented of his severity. He wrote to Bassus:—“You must now sheathe the sword; the Palmyrenes have been sufficiently slaughtered. We have not spared women; we have slain children; we have strangled old men; we have destroyed the husbandmen. To whom, then, shall we leave the land? To whom shall we leave the city? We must spare those who remain; for we think, that the few there are now existing, will take warning from the punishment of the many who have been destroyed.” The emperor then goes on to desire his lieutenant to rebuild the Temple of the Sun as magnificently as it had been in times past; to expend 300 pounds weight of gold, which he had found in the coffers of Zenobia, beside 1800 pounds weight of silver, which was raised from the sale of the people’s goods; together with the crown jewels, all which he ordered to be sold, to make money to beautify the temple; while he himself promises to write to the Senate, to send a priest from Rome to dedicate it. But, in the language of Gibbon, it is easier to destroy than it is to restore. Zenobia was now to be led to the conqueror’s triumph. This triumph was celebrated with extraordinary magnificence. It was opened by twenty elephants, four royal tigers, and above two hundred of the most curious animals from every climate of the known world. Ambassadors from Æthiopia, Arabia, Persia, Bactriana, India, and China, attended the triumph; and a long train of captives,—Goths, Vandals, Sarmatians, Alemanni, Franks, Gauls, Syrians, and Egyptians. Amongst these, Zenobia. She was confined in fetters of gold; a slave supported the gold chain which encircled her neck, and she almost fainted under the weight of her jewels. She did not ride, but walk! preceded by the chariot in which she had once indulged the vain hope of entering Rome as empress[62].