al, will you wear his features?

_Arn._ No. As you leave me choice, I am difficult.
If but to see the heroes I should ne'er
Have seen else, on this side of the dim shore,
Whence they float back before us.

_Stran._ Hence, Triumvir,
Thy Cleopatra's waiting.
[_The shade of Antony disappears: another rises_.

_Arn._ Who is this?
Who truly looketh like a demigod,
Blooming and bright, with golden hair, and stature,
If not more high than mortal, yet immortal
In all that nameless bearing of his limbs, 250
Which he wears as the Sun his rays--a something
Which shines from him, and yet is but the flashing
Emanation of a thing more glorious still.
Was _he e'er human only?_[217]

_Stran._ Let the earth speak,
If there be atoms of him left, or even
Of the more solid gold that formed his urn.

_Arn._ Who was this glory of mankind?

_Stran._ The shame
Of Greece in peace, her thunderbolt in war--
Demetrius the Macedonian, and
Taker of cities.

_Arn._ Yet one shadow more. 260

_Stran._ (_addressing the shadow_). Get thee to Lamia's lap!
[_The shade of Demetrius Poliorcetes vanishes: another rises_.
I'll fit you still,
Fear not, my Hunchback: if the shadows of
That which existed please not your nice taste,
I'll animate the ideal marble, till
Your soul be reconciled to her new garment

_Arn._ Content! I will fix here.

_Stran._ I must commend
Your choice. The godlike son of the sea-goddess,
The unshorn boy of Peleus, with his locks
As beautiful and clear as the amber waves
Of rich Pactolus, rolled o'er sands of gold, 270
Softened by intervening crystal, and
Rippled like flowing waters by the wind,
All vowed to Sperchius[218] as they were--behold them!
And _him_--as he stood by Polixena,
With sanctioned and with softened love, before
The altar, gazing on his Trojan bride,
With some remorse within for Hector slain
And Priam weeping, mingled with deep passion
For the sweet downcast virgin, whose young hand
Trembled in _his_ who slew her brother. So 280