His visage
was at once so winning and so awful, that the shield and the olive
seemed equally suitable to his genius.
When this illustrious person[150] touched on the shore, he was received
by the acclamations of the people, and followed to the palace of the
heroine. No pleasure in the glory of her arms, or the acclamations
of her applauding subjects, were ever capable to suspend her sorrow for
one moment, until she saw the olive branch in the hand of that
auspicious messenger. At that sight, as Heaven bestows its blessings on
the wants and importunities of mortals, out of its native bounty, and
not to increase its own power, or honour, in compassion to the world,
the celestial mourner was then first seen to turn her regard to things
below; and taking the branch out of the warrior's hand, looked at it
with much satisfaction, and spoke of the blessings of peace, with a
voice and accent, such as that in which guardian spirits whisper to
dying penitents assurances of happiness. The air was hushed, the
multitude attentive, and all nature in a pause, while she was speaking.
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