No more, and in our noble sister's cause?

More, more, for honour: every captain waits
Hungry for honour, angry for his king.

More, more, some fifty on a side, that each

May breathe himself, and quick! by overthrow

Of these or those, the question settled die.'

Yea' answered I for this wild wreath of air,

This flake of rainbow flying on the highest

Foam of men's deeds-this honour, if ye will.

It needs must be for honour if at all:

Since, what decision? if we fail, we fail,

And if we win, we fail: she would not keep

Her compact.' Life! but we will send to her,'

Said Arac, 'worthy reasons why she should

Bide by this issue: let our missive thro',

And you shall have her answer by the word.'

'Boys!' shriek'd the old king, but vainlier than a hen

To her false daughters in the pool; for none

Regarded; neither seem'd there more to say:
Back rode we to my father's camp, and found

He thrice had sent a herald to the gates,

To learn if Ida yet would cede our claim,
Or by denial flush her babbling wells

With her own people's life: three times he went :
The first, he blew and blew, but none appear'd:
He battered at the doors; none came the next,
An awful voice within had warn'd him thence :
The third, and those eight daughters of the plough
Came sallying thro' the gates, and caught his hair,
And so belabour'd him on rib and cheek

They made him wild: not less one glance he caught
Thro' open doors of Ida station'd there
Unshaken, clinging to her purpose, firm

Tho' compass'd by two armies and the noise
Of arms; and standing like a stately Pine
Set in a cataract on an island-crag,

When storm is on the heights, and right and left

Suck'd from the dark heart of the long hills roll

The torrents, dash'd to the vale: and yet her will

Bred will in me to overcome it or fall.

But when I told the king that I was pledged

To fight in tourney for my bride, he clash'd
His iron palms together with a cry;

Himself would tilt it out among the lads:
But overborne by all his bearded lords

With reasons drawn from age and state, perforce
He yielded, wroth and red, with fierce demur:
And many a bold knight started up in heat,
And sware to combat for my claim till death.

All on this side the palace ran the field
Flat to the garden-wall and likewise here,
Above the garden's glowing blossom-belts,

A column'd entry shone and marbled stairs,
And great bronze valves, emboss'd with Tomyris
And what she did to Cyrus after fight,

But now fast barr'd: so here upon the flat

All that long morn the lists were hammer'd up,
And all that morn the heralds to and fro,

With message and defiance went and came ;
Last, Ida's answer, in a royal hand,

But shaken here and there, and rolling words
Oration-like. I kiss'd it and I read.

6

O brother, you have known the pangs we felt, What heats of indignation when we heard

Of those that iron-cramp'd their women's feet;
Of lands in which at the altar the poor bride
Gives her harsh groom for bridal-gift a scourge ;
Of living hearts that crack within the fire

Where smoulder their dead despots; and of those,

Mothers, that, all prophetic pity, fling

Their pretty maids in the running flood, and swoops

The vulture, beak and talon, at the heart

Made for all noble motion: and I saw

That equal baseness lived in sleeker times

With smoother men: the old leaven leaven'd all :

Millions of throats would bawl for civil rights,

No woman named therefore I set my face

:

Against all men and lived but for mine own.
Far off from men I built a fold for them :

I stored it full of rich memorial:

I fenced it round with gallant institutes,

And biting laws to scare the beasts of prey,
And prosper'd; till a rout of saucy boys

Brake on us at our books, and marr'd our peace,

Mask'd like our maids, blustering I know not what

Of insolence and love, some pretext held

Of baby troth, invalid, since my will

Seal'd not the bond-the striplings !-for their sport!·

I tamed my leopards: shall I not tame these?

Or

you ? or I? for since you think me touch'd

In honour—what, I would not aught of false—
Is not our cause pure? and whereas I know
Your prowess, Arac, and what mother's blood
You draw from, fight; you failing, I abide
What end soever: but you will not. Still