Who, through the portal of one moment's guilt,
Pursue thee with their deadly aim![193]
O matchless perfidy![194] portentous lust
Of monstrous crime!—that horror-striking blade,
Drawn in defiance of the Gods, hath laid
The noble Syracusan low in dust!
Shudder'd[195] the walls—the marble city wept—
And sylvan places heaved a pensive sigh;
But[196] in calm peace the appointed Victim slept,
As he had fallen in magnanimity;