His virtuous will, nor was his heart inclined One moment with such woman-like distress To view the transient storms of civil war, As thence to yield his country and her hopes To all-devouring bondage. His bright helm, Even while the traitor's impious act is told, He buckles on his hoary head; he girds With mail his stooping breast; the shield, the spear He snatcheth; and with swift indignant strides The assembled people seeks; proclaims aloud 110 It was no time for counsel; in their spears Lay all their prudence now; the tyrant yet Was not so firmly seated on his throne, But that one shock of their united force Would dash him from the summit of his pride, Headlong and grovelling in the dust. 'What else Can reassert the lost Athenian name, So cheaply to the laughter of the world Betray'd; by guile beneath an infant's faith So mock'd and scorn'd? Away, then: Freedom now 120 And Safety dwell not but with Fame in arms; Myself will shew you where their mansion lies, And through the walks of Danger or of Death Conduct you to them.'--While he spake, through all Their crowded ranks his quick sagacious eye He darted; where no cheerful voice was heard Of social daring; no stretch'd arm was seen Hastening their common task: but pale mistrust Wrinkled each brow; they shook their head, and down Their slack hands hung; cold sighs and whisper'd doubts 130 From breath to breath stole round. The sage meantime Look'd speechless on, while his big bosom heaved, Struggling with shame and sorrow, till at last A tear broke forth; and, 'O immortal shades, O Theseus,' he exclaim'd, 'O Codrus, where, Where are ye now behold for what ye toil'd Through life! behold for whom ye chose to die!' No more he added; but with lonely steps Weary and slow, his silver beard depress'd, And his stern eyes bent heedless on the ground, 140 Back to his silent dwelling he repair'd. There o'er the gate, his armour, as a man Whom from the service of the war his chief Dismisseth after no inglorious toil, He fix'd in general view. One wishful look He sent, unconscious, toward the public place At parting; then beneath his quiet roof Without a word, without a sigh, retired. Scarce had the morrow's sun his golden rays From sweet Hymettus darted o'er the fanes 150 Of Cecrops to the Salaminian shores, When, lo, on Solon's threshold met the feet Of four Athenians, by the same sad care Conducted all, than whom the state beheld None nobler. First came Megacles, the son Of great Alcmaeon, whom the Lydian king, The mild, unhappy Croesus, in his days Of glory had with costly gifts adorn'd, Fair vessels, splendid garments, tinctured webs And heaps of treasured gold, beyond the lot 160 Of many sovereigns; thus requiting well That hospitable favour which erewhile