Demands their lives by whom his monster fell, And dooms a dreadful sacrifice to hell. 750 "Blest be thy dust, and let eternal fame Attend thy manes, and preserve thy name, Undaunted hero![118] who divinely brave, In such a cause disdained thy life to save; But viewed the shrine with a superior look, 755 And its upbraided godhead thus bespoke: "With piety, the soul's securest guard, And conscious virtue, still its own reward, Willing I come, unknowing how to fear; Nor shalt thou, Phoebus, find a suppliant here. 760 Thy monster's death to me was owed alone, And 'tis a deed too glorious to disown. Behold him here, for whom, so many days, Impervious clouds concealed thy sullen rays; For whom, as man no longer claimed thy care, 765 Such numbers fell by pestilential air! But if th' abandoned race of human kind From gods above no more compassion find; If such inclemency in heav'n can dwell, } Yet why must unoffending Argos feel } 770 The vengeance due to this unlucky steel? } On me, on me, let all thy fury fall, Nor err from me, since I deserve it all: Unless our desert cities please thy sight, Or fun'ral flames reflect a grateful light. 775 Discharge thy shafts, this ready bosom rend, And to the shades a ghost triumphant send; But for my country let my fate atone, Be mine the vengeance, as the crime my own. "Merit distressed, impartial heav'n relieves: 780 Unwelcome life relenting Phoebus gives; For not the vengeful pow'r, that glowed with rage, With such amazing virtue durst engage. The clouds dispersed, Apollo's wrath expired, And from the wond'ring god th' unwilling[119] youth retired. 785 Thence we these altars in his temple raise, And offer annual honours, feasts, and praise; These solemn feasts propitious Phoebus please; These honours, still renewed, his ancient wrath appease." "But say, illustrious guest," adjoined the king, 790 "What name you bear, from what high race you spring? The noble Tydeus stands confessed, and known Our neighbour prince, and heir of Calydon. Relate your fortunes, while the friendly night And silent hours to various talk invite." 795 The Theban bends on earth his gloomy eyes, Confused, and sadly thus at length replies: "Before these altars how shall I proclaim, O gen'rous prince! my nation, or my name, Or through what ancient veins our blood has rolled? 800 Let the sad tale for ever rest untold! Yet if propitious to a wretch unknown, You seek to share in sorrows not your own; Know, then, from Cadmus I derive my race,