A dress by fates and furies worn alone. 155 She tossed her meagre arms; her better hand[37] In waving circles whirled a fun'ral brand: A serpent from her left was seen to rear His flaming crest, and lash the yielding air.[38] But when the fury took her stand on high, 160 Where vast Cithæron'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 remurmured to the noise; Again Leucothea shook at these alarms, And pressed Palæmon closer in her arms.[39] Headlong from thence the glowing fury springs, And o'er the Theban palace spreads her wings,[40] 170 Once more invades the guilty dome, and shrouds Its bright pavilions in a veil of clouds. Straight with the rage of all their race possessed, } Stung to the soul, the brothers start from rest, } And all their furies wake within their breast. } 175 Their tortured minds repining envy tears, And hate, engendered by suspicious fears; And sacred thirst of sway; and all the ties Of nature broke;[41] and royal perjuries; And impotent desire to reign alone, 180 That scorns the dull reversion of a throne;[42] Each would the sweets of sov'reign rule devour, While discord waits upon divided power. As stubborn steers by brawny plowmen broke, And joined reluctant to the galling yoke, 185 Alike disdain with servile necks to bear Th' unwonted weight, or drag the crooked share, But rend the reins, and bound[43] a diff'rent way, And all the furrows in confusion lay: Such was the discord of the royal pair, 190 Whom fury drove precipitate to war. In vain the chiefs contrived a specious way, To govern Thebes by their alternate sway: Unjust decree! while this enjoys the state, That mourns in exile his unequal fate, 195 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 raised, 200 No fretted roofs with polished metals blazed; No laboured columns in long order placed, No Grecian stone the pompous arches graced; No nightly bands in glitt'ring armour wait[44] Before the sleepless tyrant's guarded gate; 205 No chargers[45] then were wrought in burnished gold, Nor silver vases took the forming mold; Nor gems on bowls embossed were seen to shine, Blaze on the brims, and sparkle in the wine.[46]