Now of a sudden over this grand brow

There fell the gloom of some unquiet thought,

As when the south wind sweeps

Sunshine from Hadria in a noon of summer:

176

And as a stage, supreme among the herd,

With lifted crest inhaling lusty air,

Smit by a shaft from far,

Deserts his lordly range amidst the pasture,

180

And thro’ dim woodlands with drooped antlers creeps

To the cool marge of rush-grown watersprings;

So from all former sports,

Contest, or converse with once-loved companions,

184

Stole the young prince thro’ unfrequented groves,

To gaze with listless eyes on lonely streams.

All, wondering, marked the change,

None dared to question: he had no fond father.

188

Now, in the thick of this his altered mood,

Arrived the envoys of the Scythian king,

Reluctant audience found,

And spoke to ears displeased their sovereign’s message.

192

‘Omartes greets Zariades the Mede:

Between the realms of both there rolls a river

Inviolate to the Scyth,

Free to no keels but those the Scythian charters:

196

‘Yet have thy subjects outraged oft its waves,

And pirate foray on our northern banks

Ravaged the flocks and herds,

Till Scythian riders ask “Why sleeps the Ruler?”

200

‘Still, loth to fan the sparks which leap to flame

Reddening the nations, from the breath of kings;

We have not sought thy throne

With tales of injury or appeals to justice;

204

‘But searching in our inmost heart to find

The gentlest bond wherewith to link our realms,

Make Scyth and Mede akin,

By household ties their royal chiefs uniting,

208