Book III

Through the mid ocean now the navy sails,
Their yielding canvass stretch'd by southern gales
Each to the vast Ionian turns his eye,
Where seas and skies the prospect wide supply:
But Pompey backward ever bent his look,
Nor to the last his native coast forsook.
His watery eyes the lessening objects mourn,
And parting shores that never shall return
Still the lov'd land attentive they pursue,
Till the tall hills are veil'd in cloudy blue,
Till all is lost in air, and vanish'd from his ew.
At length, the weary chieftain sunk to rest.
And creeping slumbers sooth'd his anxious breast:
When, lo! in that short moment of repose.
His Julia's shade a dreadful vision rose;
Through gaping earth her ghastly head she rear'd.
And by the light of livid flames appear'd.
Thy impious arms (she cried) my peace infest.
And drive me from the mansions of the bless'd:
No more Elysium's happy fields I know,
Dragg'd to the guilty Stygian shades below:
I saw the fury's horrid hands prepare
New rage, new flames to kindle up thy war.
The sire no longer trusts his single boat.
But navies on the joyless river float.
Capacious hell complains, for want of room.
And seeks new plagues for multitudes to come.r
Her nimble hands each fatal sister plies.
The Sisters scarcely to the task suffice.
When thou wert mine, what laurels crown'd Thy head!
Now thou hast chang'd thy fortune with thy bed.
In an ill hour thy second choice was made,
To slaughter thou, like Crassus, art betray'd.
Death is the dower Cornelia's love affords.
Ruin still waits upon her potent lord's:
While yet my ashes glow'd, she took my place.
And came a harlot to thy loose embrace.
But let her partner of thy warfare go.
Let her by land and sea thy labours know:
Id all thy broken sleeps I will be near,
In all thy dreams sad Julia shall appear.
Your loves shall find no moment fur delight
The day shall all be Caesar's, mine the night.
Not the dull stream, where long oblivions roll.
Shall blot thee out, my husband! from my soul.
The powers beneath my constancy approve,
And bid me follow wheresoe'er yon rove.
Amidst the joining battles will I stand,
And still remind thee of thy plighted hand.
Nor think those sacred ties no more remain;
The sword of war divides the knot in vain.
That very war shall make thee mine again."
The phantom spoke, and, gliding from the place.
Deluded her astonish'd lord's embrace.
But he, though gods forewarn him of his fate,
And furies with destruction threatening wait.
With new resolves his constant bosom warms,
And, sure of min, rushes on to arms.
What mean these terrors of the night? (he cries):
Why dance these visions vain before our eyes?
Or endless apathy succeeds to death,
And sense is lost with our expiring breath;
Or if the soul some future life shall know,
To better worlds immortal shall she go:
Whate'er event the doubtful question clean.
Death must be still unworthy of our fears.
Now headlong to the west the sun was fled.
And half in seas obscur'd his beamy head;
Such seems the moon, while, growing yet, she shines
Or waning from her fuller orb declines;
When hospitable shores appear at hand.
Where fair Dyrrachium spreads her friendly strand
The seamen furl the canvass, strike the mast,
Then dip their nimble oars, and landward haste.
Thus, while they fled, and lessening by degrees
The navy seem'd to hide beneath the seas;
Caesar, though left the master of the field,
With eyes unpleas'd the foes' escape beheld:
With fierce impatience victory he scorns,
And viewing Pompey's flight, his safety mourns
To vanquish seems unworthy of his care.
Unless the blow decides the lingering war.
No bounds his headlong vast ambition knows,
Nor joys in ought, though fortune all bestows.
At length his thoughts from arms and vengeance cease.
And fur awhile revolve the arts of peace;
Careful to purchase popular applause.
And gain the lazy vulgar to his cause.
He knew the constant practice of the great,
That those who court the vulgar, bid 'em eat.
When pinch'd with want all reverence they with draw
For hungry multitudes obey no law:
Thus therefore factions make their parties good,
And buy authority and power with food.
The murmurs of the many to prevent,
Curio to fruitful Sicily is sent.
Of old the swelling sea's impetuous tide
Tore the fair island from Hesperia's side:
Still foamy wars the jealous waves maintain,
For fear the neighbouring lands should join again
Sardinia too, renown'd for yellow fields.
With Sicily her bounteous tribute yields;
No lands a glebe of richer tillage boast,
Nor Waft more plenty to the Roman coast:
Not Libya more abounds in wealthy grain,
Nor with a fuller harvest spreads the plain;
Though northern winds their cloudy treasures bear,
To temper well the soil and sultry air.
And fattening rains increase the prosperous year.
This done, to Rome his way the leader took:
His train the rougher shows of war forsook;
No force, no fears, their hands unarmed bear,
But looks of peace and gentleness they wear.
Oh! had he now his country's friend return'd.
Had none but barbarous foes his conquest mourn'd
What swarming crowds had issued at the gate.
On the glad triumph's lengthening train to wait!
How might his wars in various glories shine.
The ocean vanquish'd, and in bonds the Rhine!
How would his lofty chariot roll along.
Through loud applauses of the joyful throng!
How might he view from high his captive thralls
The beauteous Britons, and the noble Gauls!
But oh! what fatal honours has he won!
How is his fame by victory undone!
No cheerful citizens the victor meet.
But, hush'd, with awful dread his passage greet.
He too the horrors of the crowd approv'd.
Joy'd in their fears, and wish'd not to be lov'd.
Now steepy Anxur past, and the moist way,
Which o'er the faithless Pomptine marshes lay;
Through Scythian Dian's Aricinian grove
Caesar approach'd the fane of Alban Jove.
Thither with yearly rites the consuls come,
And thence the chief survey'd his native Rome:
Wondering awhile he view'd her from afar,
Long from his eyes withheld by distant war,
Fled they from thee, thou seat of gods! (he cried)
Ere yet the fortune of the fight was tried?
If thou art left, what prize can earth afford,
Worth the contention of the warrior's sword?
Well for thy safety now the gods provide.
Since Parthian inroads spare thy naked side;
Since yet no Scythians and Pannonians join
Nor warlike Daci with the Getes combine
No foreign armies are against thee led.
While thou art curs'd with such a coward head.
A gentler fate the heavenly powers bestow,
A civil war, and Caesar for thy foe."
He said; and straight the frighted city nought: —
The city with confusion wild was fraught,
And labouring shook with every dreadful thought.
They think he comes to ravage, sack, and burn
Religion, gods, and temples to o'erturn.
Their fears suggest him, willing to pursue
Whatever ills unbounded power can do:
Their hearts by one low passion only move,
Nor dare show hate, nor can dissemble love
The lurking fathers, a dishearten'd band,
Drawn from their houses forth, by proud command,
In Palatine Apollo's temple meet,
And sadly view the consuls' empty seat;
No rods, no chairs curule, adorn place,
Nor purple magistrates the' assembly grace.
Caesar is all things in himself alone.
The silent court is but a looker-on;
With humble votes obedient they agree
To what their mighty subject shall decree;
Whether as king, or god, he will be fear'd.
If royal thrones, or altars, shall be rear'd.
Ready for death, or banishment, they stand.
And wait their doom from his disposing hand;
But he, by secret shame's reproaches staid.
Blush'd to command, what Rome would have obey'd,
Yet liberty, thus slighted and betray'd.
One last effort with indignation made;
One man she chose to try the' unequal fight.
And prove the power of justice against might.
While with rude uproar armed hands essay
To make old Saturn's treasuring fane their prey
The bold Metellus careless of his fate.
Rush'd through, and stood to guard the holy gate,
So daring is the sordid love of gold!
So fearless death and dangers can behold!
Without a blow, defenceless, fell the laws;
While wealth, the basest, most inglorious cause.
Against oppressing tyranny makes head.
Finds hands to fight, and eloquence to plead.
The bustling tribune, struggling in the crowd,
Thus warns the victor of the wrong aloud.
"Through me, thou robber! force thy horrid way,
My sacred blood shall stain thy impious prey,
But there are gods, to urge thy guilty fate;
Sure vengeance on thy sacrilege shall wait
Remember, by the tribune's curse pursued,
Crassus, too late, the violation rued.
Pierce then my breast, nor shall the crime displease,
This crowd is us'd to spectacles like these.
Jn a forsaken city are we left,
Of virtue with her noblest sons bereft.
Why seek'st thou ours? is there not foreign gold
Towns to be sack'd, and people to be sold?
With those reward the ruffian soldier's toil;
Nor pay him with thy ruin'd country's spoil.
Hast thou not war? let war thy wants provide."
He spoke: the victor, high in wrath, replied:
Nor time nor chance breed such confusions yet.
Nor are the mean so rais'd, nor sunk the great
But laws themselves would rather choose to be
Suppress'd by Caesar, than preserv'd by thee."
He said. The stubborn tribune kept his place,
While anger redden'd on the warrior's face;
His wrathful hand descending grasp'd his blade,
And half forgot the peaceful part he play'd:
When Cotta, to prevent the kindling hre.
Thus sooth'd the rash Metellus to retire.
Where kings prevail all liberty is lost,
And none but he who reigns can freedom boast:
Some shadow of the bliss thou shalt retain,
Choosing to do what sovereign powers ordain:
Vanquish'd and long accustom'd to submit.
With patience underneath our loads we sit
Our chains alone our slavish fears excuse.
While we bear ill, we know not to refuse.
Far hence the fatal treasures let him bear,
The seeds of mischief, and the cause of war.
Free states might well a loss like this deplore e!
In servitude none miss the public store,
And 'tis the curse of kings, for subjects to be poor."
The tribune with unwilling steps withdrew.
While impious hands the rude assault renew:
The brazen gates with thundering strokes resound,
And the Tarpeian mountain rings around.
At length the sacred storehouse open laid,
The hoarded wealth of ages past display'd:
There might be seen the sums proud Carthage sent',
Her long impending min to prevent
There heap'd the Macedonian treasures shone,
That great Flaminius and iniilins won
From vanquish'd Philip, and his hapless son.
There lay, what flying Pyrrhus lost, the gold
Scorn'd by the patriot's honesty of old:
Whate'er our parsimonious sires could save.
What tributary gifts rich Syria gave
The hundred Cretan cities' ample spoil;
What Cato gather'd from the Cyprian isle.
Riches of captive kings by Pompey borne,
In happier days, his triumph to adorn,
From utmost India and the rising morn:
Wealth infinite, in one rapacious day,
Became the needy soldiers' lawless prey;
And wretched Rome, by robbery laid low,
Was poorer than the bankrupt Caesar now.
Meanwhile, the world by Pompey's fate alarm'd,
Nations ordain'd to share his fall had arm'd.
Greece first with troops the neighbouring war supplied,
And sent the youth of Phocis to his side;
From Cyrrha and Amphisa's towers they mov'd,
And high Parnassus, by the Muse belov'd;
Cephissus' sacred flood assistance lends.
And Dirce's spring his Theban leaders sends.
Alpheus too affords his Pisa's aid;
By Pisa's walls the stream is first convey'd,
Then seeks through seas the lov'd Sicilian maid.
From Maenalus Arcadian shepherds swarm.
And warriors in Herculean Trachyn arm
The Dryopes Chaonia's bills forsook,
And Sells left Dodona's silent oak.
Though Athens now had train'd her naval store.
And the Phoebean arsenal was poor,
Three ships of Salamis to Pompey came,
To vindicate their isle's contested name,
And justify the ancient Attic claim.
Jove's Cretan people hastening to the war,
The Gnossian quiver and the sh prepare;
The bending bow they draw with deadly art.
And rival ev'n the dying Parthian's dart.
Wild Athamans who in the woods delight,
With Dardan Oriconians unite;
With these the' Encheliae who the name partake,
Since Theban Cadmus first became a snake:
The Colchians planted on Illyrian shores,
Where rushing down Absyrtos foamy roars;
With those where Peneus runs, and hardy swains,
Whose ploughs divide Iolcos fruitful plains.
From thence, ere yet the seaman's art was taught,.
Rude Argo through the deep a passage sought:
She first explor'd the distant foreign land.
And show'd her strangers to the wondering strand:
Then nations nations knew, in leagues were join'd
And universal commerce mix'd mankind.
By her made bold, the daring race defied
The winds tempestuous, and the swelling tide:
Much she enlarg'd destruction's ample pow'r.
And open'd ways to death, unknown before.
Then Pholoe's heights that fabled Centaurs boast.
And Thracian Haemus' then his warriors lost.
Then Strymon was forsook, whose wintry flood
Commits to warmer Nile his feather'd brood;
Then bands from Cone and from Pence came,
Where Ister loses his divided stream;
From Idalis where cold CaYcus flows,
And where Arisbe thin, her sandy surface strows;
From Pytane, and sad Celense's walls
Where now in streams the vanquish'd Marsyas falls:
Still his lamenting progeny deplore
Minerva's tuneful gift, and Phoebus' pow'r;
While through steep banks his torrent swift he leads.
And with Maeander winds among the meads.
Proud Lydia's plains send forth her wealthy sons,
Pactolus there, and golden Hermus runs:
From earth's dark womb hid treasures they convey.
And, rich in yellow waters, rise to day.
From Ilium, too, ill-omen'd ensigns move,
Again ordain'd their former fate to prove;
Their arms they rang'd on Pompey's hapless side.
Nor sought a chief to Dardan kings allied:
Though tales of Troy proud Caesar's lineage grace,
With great aeneas and the Julian race.
The Syrians swift Orontes' banks forsake.
And from Idume's palms their journey take;
Damascus obvious to the driving wind.
With Ninos' and with Gaza's force is join'd.
Unstable Tyre now knit to firmer ground,
With Sidon, for her purple shells renown'd;
Safe in the Cynosure, their glittering guide,
With well-directed navies stem the tide.
Phoenicians first if ancient fame be true,
The sacred mystery of letters knew;
They first by sound, in various lines design'd.
Express'd the meaning of the thinking mind;
The power of works by figures rude convey'd,
And useful science everlasting made.
Then Memphis, ere the reedy leaf was known,
Engrav'd her precepts and her arts in stone;
While animals, in various order plac'd,
The learned hieroglyphic column grac'd.
Then left they lofty Taurus' spreading grove.
And Tarsos, built by Perseus, born of Jove;
Then Mallian and Corycian towers they leave.
Where mouldering rocks disclose a gaping cave.
The bold Cilicians, pirates now no more,
Unfurl a juster sail, and ply the oar;
To Egae's port they gather all around,
The shores with shouting mariners resound.
Far ill the east war spreads the loud alarm,
Where worshippers of distant Ganges arm:
Right to the breaking day his waters run.
The only stream that braves the rising sun.
By this strong flood, and by the ocean bound,
Proud Alexander's arms a limit found;
Vain in his hopes the youth had grasp'd at all.
And his vast thought took in the vanquish'd ball;
But own'd, when forc'd from Ganges to retreat,
The world too mighty, and the task too great.
Then on the banks of Indus nations rose
Where, unperceiv'd, the mix'd Hydaspes flows:
In numbers vast they coast the rapid flood.
Strange in their habit, manners, and their food.
With saffron dyes their dangling locks they stain,
With glittering gems their flowing robes constrain,
And quaff rich juices from the luscious cane.
On their own funerals and death they smile.
And living leap amidst the burning pile;
Heroic minds that can ev'n fate command,
And bid it wait upon a mortal hand;
Who full of life forsake it as a feast.
Take what they like, and ve the gods the rest.
Descending then, fierce Cappadocian swains,
From rude Amanus mountains, sought the plains.
Armenians from Niphates' rolling stream,
And from their lofty woods Coastrians came.
Then, wondering Arabs from the sultry line
For ever northward saw the shade incline
Then did the madness of the Roman rage
Carmanian and Olostrian chiefs engage:
Beneath far distant southern heavens they lie,
Where half the setting Bear' forsakes the sky,
And swift our slow Bootes seems to fly.
These furies to the sun-burn'd Ethiops spread.
And reach the great Euphrates' rising head.
One spring the Tigris and 'Euphrates know,
And join'd awhile the kindred rivers flow;
Scarce could we judge between the doubtful claim,
If Tigris or Euphrates, give the name:
But soon Euphrates' parting waves divide.
Covering like fruitful Nile, the country wide;
A mountain in Cilicia.
While Tigris sinking from the sight of day,
Through subterranean channels cuts his way;
Then from a second fountain springs again,
Shoots swiftly on, and rushing seeks the main.
The Parthian power, to neither chief a friend,
The doubtful issue in suspense attend;
With neutral ease they view the strife from far,
And only lend occasion to the war
Not so the Scythians, where cold Bactras flows,
Or where Hircania's wilder forest grows;
Their baneful shafts they dip, and string their deadly bows.
The' Heniochi of Sparta's valiant breed.
Skilful to press, and rein the fiery steed:
Sarmatians with the fiercer Moschi join'd,
And Colchians rich where Phasis' waters wind,
To Pompey's side their aid assembling bring.
With Halys fatal to the Lydian king;
With Tanais falling from Riphaean snows.
Who forms the world's division as he goes:
With noblest names his rising banks are crown'd,
This stands for Europe's, that for Asia's bound;
While, as they wind, his waves with fall command,
Diminish, or enlarge the' adjacent land.
Then arm'd the nations on Cimmerian shores,
Where through the Bosphorus Maeotis roars,
And her full lake amidst the Euxine pours.
This straight, like that of Hercules, supplies
The midland seas, and bids the' gean rise.
Sithonians fierce and Arimaspians bold,
Who bind their plaited hair in shining gold.
The Gelon nimble, and Areian strong,
March with the hardy Massagete along:
The Massagete, who at his savage feast
Feeds on the generous steed, which once he press'd.
Not Cyrus when he spreads his Eastern reign,
And hid with multitudes the Lydian plain;
Not haughty Xerxes, when, his power to boast,
By shafts he counted all his mighty host;
Not he who drew the Grecian chiefs along.
Bent to revenge his injur'd brother's wrong;
Or with such navies plough'd the foamy main.
Or led so many kings amongst their warlike train.
Sure in one cause such numbers never yet,
Various in countries, speech, and manners, met;
But Fortune gather'd, o'er the spacious ball.
These spoils, to grace her once-lov'd favourite's fall.
Nor then the Libyan Moor withheld his aid.
Where sacred Ammon lifts his horned head:
All Afric, from the western ocean's bound.
To eastern Nile, the cause of Pompey own'd.
Mankind assembled for Pharsalia's day,
To make the world at once the victor's prey.
Now, trembling Rome forsook, with swiftest haste;
Caesar the cloudy Alpine bills had pass'd,
Rut while the nations, with subjection tame,
Yield to the terrors of his mighty name; -
With faith uncommon to the changing Greeks,
What duty bids Massilia' bravely seeks:
And true to oaths, their liberty, and laws.
To stronger fate prefer the justest cause.
But first to move his haughty soul they try,
Entreaties and persuasion soft apply;
Their brows Minerva's peaceful branches wear,
And thus in gentlest terms they greet his ear:
"When foreign wars molest the Roman state,
With ready arms our glad Massilians wait,
To share your dangers, and partake your fate.
This, our unshaken friendship vouches well.
And your recording annals best can tell.
E'en now we yield our still devoted hands,
On foreign foes to wreak your dread commands:
Would you to worlds unknown your triumphs:spread
Behold! we follow wheresoe'er yon lead.
But if you rouse at discord's baleful call,
If Romans fatally on Romans fall;
All we can offer is a pitying fear,
And constant refuge for the wretched here.
Sacred to us you are: oh, may no stain
Of Lucian blood our innocence profane!
Should heaven itself be rent with civil rage.
Should giants once more with the gods engage;
Officious piety would hardly dare
To proffer Jove assistance in the war.
Man unconcern'd and humble should remain,!
Nor seek to know whose arms the conquest gain,
Jove's thunder will convince them of his reign,
Nor can yOur horrid discords want our swords.
The wicked world its multitudes affords;
Too many nations at the call will come.
And gladly join to urge the fate of Rome.
Oh, had the rest like us their aid denied.
Yourselves must then the guilty strife decide;
Then, who but should withhold his lifted band,
When for his foe he saw his father stand?
Brothers their rage had mutually repress'd.
Nor driven their javelins on a brother's breast.
Your war had ended soon; had you not chose
Hands for the work which nature meant for foes;
Who, strangers to your blood, in arms delight,
And rush remorseless to the cruel fights
Briefly, the som of all that we request
Is, to receive thee, as our honour'd guest;
Let those thy dreadful ensigns shine afar.
Let Caesar come, but come without the war.
Let this one place from impious rage be free;
That, if the gods the peace of Rome decree,
If your relenting angers yield to treat,
Pompey and thou, in safety, here may meet
Then wherefore dost thou quit thy purpos'd way?
Why, thus, Iberia's nobler wars delay?
Mean and of little consequence we are,
A conquest much unworthy of thy care.
When Phocis' towers were laid in ashes low,
Hither we fled for refuge from the foe;
Here, for our plain integrity renown'd,
A little town in narrow walls we bound:
No name in arms nor victories we boast,
But live poor exiles on a foreign coast.
If thou art bent on violence at last.
To burst our gates, and lay our bulwarks waste;
Know, we are equally resolv'd, whate'er
The victor's fury can inflict, to bear.
Shall death destroy, shall flames the town o'erturn?
Why — let our people bleed, our buildings burn.
Wilt thou forbid the living stream to flow?
We'll dig, and search the watery stores below.
Hunger and thirst with patience will we meet.
And what offended nature nauseates, eat.
Like brave Saguntum, daring to be free,
Whate'er they suffer'd, we'll expect from thee.
Babes, ravish'd from the fainting mother's breast.
Shall headlong in the burning pile be cast.
Matrons shall bare their bosoms to their lords,
And beg destruction from their pitying swords;
The brother's hand the brother's heart shall wound.
And universal slaughter rage around.
If civil wars must waste this hapless town.
No hands shall bring that ruin but our own."
Thus said the Grecian messengers. When lo!
A gathering cloud involv'd the Roman's brow:
Much grief, much wrath his troubled visage spoke.
Then into these disdainful words he broke:
This trusting in our speedy march to Spain,
These hopes, this Grecian confidence, is vain;
Whate'er we purpose, leisure will be found
To lay Massilia level with the ground.
This bears, my valiant friends, a sound of joy
Our useless arms, at length, shall find employ.
Winds lose their force that unresisted fly.
And flames unfed by fuel sink and die.
Our courage thus would soften in repose,
But fortune and rebellion yield us foes,
Yet, mark! what love their friendly speech express'd!
Unarm'd and single, Caesar is their guest.
Thus, first they dare to stop me on my way;
Then, seek with fawning treason to betray.
Anon, they pray that civil rage may cease:
But war shall scourge 'em for those hopes of peace;
And make 'em know the present times afford.
At least while Caesar lives, no safety like the sword.
He said; and to the city bent his way:
The city, fearless all, before him lay:
With armed hands her battlements were crown'd,
And lusty youth the bulwarks man'd around.
Near to the walls a rising mountain's head
Flat with a little level plain is spread;
Upon this height e wary chief designs
His camp to strengthen with surrounding lines.
Lofty alike, and with a warlike mien,
Massilia's neighbouring citadel is seen;
An humble valley fUs the space between.
Straight he decrees — the middle vale to fill.
And run a mole athwart from hill to hill.
But first a lengthening work extends its way.
Where open to the land this city lay.
And from the camp projecting joins the sea.
Low sinks the ditch, the turfy breastworks rise
And cut the captive town from all supplies:
W hile, gazing from their towers, the Greeks bemoan
The meads, the fields, and fountains, once their own.
Well have they thus acquir'd the noblest naYne,
And consecrated these their walls to fame.
Fearless of Caesar and his arms they stood.
Nor drove before the headlong rushing flood:
And while he swept whole nations in a day,
Massilia bade the' impatient victor stay.
And clog'd his rapid conquest with delay,
Fortune a master for the world prepar'd.
And these the' approaching slavery retard.
Ye times to come, record the warrior's praise.
Who lengthen'd out expiring freedom's days!
Now while with toil unwearied rose the mound.
The sounding axe invades the groves around
Light earth and shrubs the middle banks supplied,
But firmer beams must fortify the aide;
Lest, when the towers advance their ponderous height.
The mouldering mass should yield beneath the weight
Not far away, for ages past, had stood
An old inviolated sacred, wood;
Whose gloomy boughs, thick interwoven, made
A chilly, cheerless, everlasting shade:
There nor the rustic gods nor satyrs sport,
Nor fawns and sylvans with the nymphs resort:
But barbarous priests some dreadful power adore,.
And lustrate every tree with human gore.
If mysteries in times of old receiv'd.
And pious ancientry be yet believ'd.
There, nor the feather songster builds her nest,
Nor lonely dens conceal the savage beast:
There no tempestuous winds presume to fly,
Ev'n lightnings glance aloof,and shoot obliquely by.
No wanton breezes toss the dancing leaves.
But shivering horror in the branches heaves.
Black springs with pitchy streams divide the ground,
And bubbling tumble with a sullen sound:
Old images of forms mishapen stand,
Rude and unknowing of the artist's hand;
With hoary filth begrim'd, each ghastly head
Strikes the astonish'd gazer's soul with dread.
No gods, who long in common shapes appear'd,
Were e'er with such religious awe rever'd:
But zealous crowds in ignorance adore,
And still the less they know, they fear the more.
Oft (as fame tells) the earth, in sounds of woe
Is heard to groan from hollow depths below;
The baleful yew, though dead, has oft been seen
To rise from earth, and spring with dusky green;
With sparkling flames the trees unburning shine.
And round their boles prodigious serpents twine.
The pious worshippers approach not near,
But shun their godis, and kneel with distant fear:
The priest himself, when, or the day or night
Rolling have reach'd their full meridian height,
Refrains the gloomy paths with wary feet,
Dreading the demon of the grove to meet;
Who, terrible to sight, at that fix'd hour
Still treads the round about his dreary bow'r.
This wood, near neighb'ring to th' encompass'd town,
Untouch'd by former wars, remain'd alone;
And since the country round it naked stands.
From hence the Latian chief supplies demands.
But lo! the bolder hands, that should have struck.
With some unusual horror trembling shook;
With silent dread and reverence they survey'd
The gloom majestic of the sacred shade:
None dares with impious steel the bark to rend.
Lest on himself the destin'd stroke descend.
Caesar perceiv'd the spreading fear to grow,
Then, eager, caught an axe, and aim'd a blow.
Deep sunk within a violated oak
The wounding edge, and thus the warrior spoke:
"Now, let no doubting band the task decline;
Cut you the wood, and let the guilt be mine."
The trembling bands unwillingly obey'd;
Two various ills were in the balance laid,
And Caesar's wrath against the gods was weigh'd.
Then Jove's Dodonian tree was forc'd to bow;
The lofty ash and knotty holm lay low;
The floating alder by the current borne,
The cypress, by the noble mourner.worn.
Veil their aerial summits, and display
Their dark recesses to the golden day;
Crowding they fall, each o'er the other lies,
And heap'd on high the leafy piles arise.
With grief and fear, the groaning Gauls beheld
Their holy grove by impious soldiers fell'd;
While the Massilians, from the' encompass'd wall.
Rejoic'd to see the sylvan honours fall:
'They hope such power can never prosper long,
Nor think the patient gods will bear the wrong.
But, ah! too oft success to guilt is giv'n.
And wretches only stand the mark of heav'n.
With timber largely from the wood supplied.
For wains the legions search the country wide;
Then from the crooked plough unyoke the steer
And leave the swain to mourn the fruitless year.
Meanwhile, impatient of the lingering war,
The chieftain to Iberia bends afar,
And gives the leaguer to Trebonius' care
With diligence the destin'd task he plies;
Huge works of earth with strengthening beams arise:
High tottering towers, by no fix'd, basis bound,
Roll nodding on, along the stable mound.
The Greeks with wonder on the movement look,
And fancy earth's foundations deep are shook;
Fierce winds they think the beldame's entrails tear.
And anxious for their walls and city fear:
The Roman from the lofty top look'd down,
And rains a winged war upon the town.
Nor with less active rage the Grecians burn,
But larger min on their foes return:
Nor hands alone the missile deaths supply
From nervous cross-bows whistling arrows fly
The steely corslet and the bone they break,
Through multitudes their fatal journeys take;.
Nor wait the lingering Parcae's slow delay.
But wound, and to new slaughter wing their way.
Now by some vast machine's a pondrous stone,
Pernicious, from the hostile wall is thrown;
At once, on many, swift the shock descends,
And the crash'd carcases confounding blends.
So rolls some falling rock by age long worn,
Loose from its root by raging whirlwinds tom,
And thundering down the precipice is borne
O'er crashing woods the mass is seen to ride,
To grind its way, and plain the mountain's side.
Gall'd with the shot from far the legions join.
Their bucklers in the warlike shell combine;
Compact and close the brazen roof they bear.
And in just order to the town draw near:
Safe they advance, while with unwearied pain
The wrathful engines waste their stores in vain;
High o'er their heads the destin'd deaths are toss'd,
And far behind in vacant earth are lost:
Nor sudden could they change their erring aim,
Slow and unwieldy moves the cumbrous frame.
This seen, the Greeks their brawny arms employ.
And hurl a stony tempest from on high:
The clattering shower the sounding fence assails;
But vain, as when the stormy winter hails.
Nor on the solid marble roof prevails:
Till tir'd at length, the warriors fall their shields;
And, spent with toil, the broken phalanx yields.
Now other stratagems the war supplies,
Beneath the vinea' close the' assailant lies.
The strong machine, with planks and turf bespread.
Moves to the walls its well-defended head;
Within the covert safe the miners lurk.
And to the deep foundation urge their work.
Now justly pois'd the thundering ram' they ing.
And drive him forceful with a lanching spring
Haply, to loose some yielding part at length.
And shake the firm cemented bulwark's strength.
But from the town the Grecian youth prepare
With hardy vigour to repel the war:
Crowding they gather on the rampart's height.
And with tough staves and spears maintain the fight;
Darts, fragments of the rock, and flames they throw.
And tear the planky shelter fix'd below:
Around by all the warring tempest beat,
The baffled Romans sullenly retreat.
Now, by success the brave Massilians fir'd,
To fame of higher enterprise aspir'd;
Nor longer with their walls' defence content,
In daring sallies they the foe prevent.
Nor arm'd with swords, nor pointed spears they go.
Nor aim the shaft, nor bend the deadly bow:
Fierce Mulciber supplies the bold design,
And for their weapons kindling torches shine
Silent they issue through the gloomy night,
And with broad shields restrain the beamy light:
Sudden the blaze on every side began.
And o'er the Latian works resistless ran;
Catching, and driving with the wind it grows,
Fierce through the shade the burning deluge glows:
Nor earth, nor greener planks, its force delay,
Swift o'er the hissing beams it rolls away:
Embrown'd with smoke, the wavy flames ascend,
Shiver'd with heat the crackling quarries rend
Till, with a roar at last, the mighty mound,
Towers, engines, all come thund'ring to the ground:
Wide-spread the discontinuous ruins lie,
And vast confusion fills the gazer's eye.
Vanquish'd by land, the Romans seek the main,
And prove the fortune of the watery plain:
Their navy, rudely built, and rigg'd in haste,
Down through the rapid Rhone descending pass'd.
No golden gods protect the shining prow,
Nor silken streamers lightly dancing flow;
But rough in stable floorings lies the wood.
As in the native forest once it stood.
Rearing above the rest her towery head,
Brutus' tall ship the floating squadron led.
To sea soon wafted by the hasty tide,
Right to the Stoechades' their course they guide.
Resolv'd to urge their fate, with equal cares,
Massilia for the naval war prepares;
All hands the city for the task requires.
And arms her striplings young, and hoary sires;
Vessels of every sort and size she fits.
And speedy to the briny deep commits.
The crazy hulk, that, worn with winds and tides,
Safe in the dock, and long neglected, rides,
She planks anew, and cal her leaky sides.
Now rose the morning, and the golden sun
With beams refracted on the ocean shone;
Clear was the sky, the waves from murmur cease.
And every ruder wind was hush'd in peace
Smooth lay the glassy surface of the main.
And offer'd to the war its ample plain:
When to the destin'd stations all repair;
Here Caesar's powers, the youth of Phocis there.
Their brawny arms are bar'd, their oars they dip,
Swift o'er the water glides the nimble ship;
Feels the strong blow the well compacted oak.
And trembling springs at each repeated stroke.
Crooked in front the Latian navy stood.
And wound a bending crescent o'er the flood:
With four full banks of oars advancing high,
On either wing the larger vessels ply,
While in the centre safe the lesser galliots lie.
Brutus the first, with eminent command,
In the tall admiral is seen to stand;
Six rows of lengthening pines the billows sweep,
And heave the burden o'er the groaning deep.
Now prow to prow advance each hostile fleet.
And want but one concurring stroke to meet;
When peals of shouts and mingling clamours roar.
And drown the brazen trump and plunging oar.
The brushing pine the frothy surface plies.
While on their banks the lusty rowers rise:
Each brings the stroke back on his ample chest,
Then firm upon his seat he lights repress'd.
With clashing beaks the launching vessels meet,
And from the mutual shock alike retreat.
Thick clouds of flying shafts the welkin hide,
Then fall, and floating strow the ocean wide.
At length the stretching wings their order leave,
And in the line the mingling foe receive:
Then might be seen, how, dash'd from side to side.
Before the stemming vessels drove the tide;
Still as each keel her foamy furrow ploughs,
Now back, now forth, the surge obedient flows.
Thus warring winds alternate nile maintain,
And this, and that way, roll the yielding main.
Massilia's navy, nimble, clean, and Light,
With best advantage seek or shun the fight;
With ready ease all answer to command.
Obey the helm, and feel the pilot's hand.
Not so the Romans: cumbrous hulks they lay.
And slow and heavy, hung upon the sea;
Yet strong, and for the closer combat good.
They yield firm footing on the' unstable flood.
Thus Brutus saw, and to the master cries,
The master in the lofty poop he spies,
Where, streaming, the Praetorian ensign flies,)
Still wilt thou bear away, still shift thy place,
And turn the battle to a wanton chase?
Is this a time to play so mean a part.
To tack, to veer, and boast thy.trifling art?
Bring to. The war shall hand to hand be tried;
Oppose thou to the foe our ample side;
And let us meet like men." The chieftain said;
The.ready master the command obey'd,
And side-long to the foe the ship was laid.
Upon his waste fierce fall the thundering Greeks,
Fast in his timber stick their brazen beaks;
Some lie by chains and grapplings strong compell'd.
While others by the tangling oars are held:
The seas are hid beneath the closing war.
Nor need they cast the javelin now from far;
With hardy strokes the combatants engage.
And with keen falchions deal their deadly rage:
Man against man, and board by board they lie.
And on those decks their arms defended die.
The rolling surge is stain'd around with bloody
And foamy purple swells the rising flood;
The floating carcases the ships delay,
Hang on each keel, and intercept her way;
Helpless beneath the deep the dying sink.
And gore, with briny ocean mingling, drink.
Some, while amidst the tumbling waves they strive,
And struggling with destruction float alive.
Or by some pond'rous beam are beaten down.
Or sink transfix'd by darts at random thrown.
That fatal day no javelin flies in vain,
Missing their mark, they wound upon the main.
It chanc'd, a warrior-ship, on Caesar's side,
By two Massilian foes was warmly plied;
But with divided force she meets the' attack.
And bravely drives the bold assailants back:
When from the lofty poop, where fierce he fought,
Tagus to seize the Grecian ancient sought;
But double death his daring hand repress'd,
One spear transfix'd his back, and one his breast,
And deadly met within his heaving chest.!
Doubtful awhile the flood was seen to stay.
At length the steely shafts at once gave way;
Then fleeting life a twofold passage found,
And ran divided from each streaming wound
Hither his fate unhappy Telon led.
To naval arts from early childhood bred;
No hand the helm more skilfully could guide,
Or stem the fury of the boistrous tide:
He knew what winds should on the morrow blow,
And how the sails for safety to bestow;
Celestial signals well he could descry,!
Could judge the radiant lights that shine on high,
A nd read the coming tempest of the sky.
Full on a Latian bark his beak he drives,
The brazen beak the shiv'ring alder rives
When from some hostile hand a Roman dart,
Deep piercing, trembled in his panting heart:
Yet still his careful hand its task supplies.
And turns the guiding rudder — as he dies.
To fill his place bold Gyareus essay'd.
But passing from a neighbouring ship was stay'd:
Swift through his loins a flying javelin struck,
And nail'd him to the vessel he forsook.
Friendlike, and side by side, two brethren fought,
Whom, at a birth, their fruitful mother brought:
So like the lines of each resembling face,
The same the features, and the same the grace,
That fondly erring oft their parents' look,
And each for each alternately mistook:
But death, too soon, a dire distinction makes.
While one, untimely snatch'd, the light forsakes.
His brother's form the sad survivor wears,
And still renews his hapless parents' tears:
Too sore they see their single hope remain,
And while they bless the living mourn the slain.
He, the bold youth as board and board they stand.
Fix'd on a Roman ship his daring hand;
Full on his arm a mighty blow descends,
And the torn limb from off the shoulder rends;
The rigid nerves are cramp'd with stiffening cold,
Convulsive grasp, and still retain their hold.
Nor sunk his valour by the pain depress'd.
But nobler rage inflam'd his mangled breast:
His left remaining hand the combat.tries.
And fiercely forth to catch the right he flies.;
The same hard destiny the left demands,
And now a naked helpless trunk he stands.
Nor deigns he, though defenceless to the foe.
To seek the safety of the hold below;
For every coming javelin's point prepar'd.
He steps between, and stands his brother's guard;
Till fix'd, and horrid with a wood of spears,
A thousand deaths, at others aim'd, he wears.
Resolv'd at length. his utmost force to' exert,
His spirits gather'd to his fainting heart,
And the last vigour rous'd in every part;
Then nimble from the Grecian deck he rose.
And with a leap sprung fierce amidst his foes:
And when his hands no more could wreak his hate,
His sword no more could minister to fate,
Dying he press'd.em with his hostile weight.
O'ercharg'd the ship, with carcases and blood.
Drank fast at many a leak the briny flood:
Yielding at length the waters wide give way,
And fold her in the bosom of the sea;
Then o'er her head returning rolls the tide.
And covering waves the sinking hatches hide.
That fatal day was slaughter seen to reign.
In wonders various, on the liquid plain.
On Lycidas a steely grappling struck;
Struggling he drags with the tenacious hook.
And deep had drown'd beneath the greedy wave.
But that his fellows strove their mate to save;
Clung to his legs, they clasp him all they can,
The grappling tugs, asunder flies the man.
No single wound the gaping rupture seems.
Where trickling crimson wells in slender streams;
But from an opening horrible and wide,
A thousand vessels pour the bursting tide:
At once the winding channel's course was broke,
Where wandering life her mazy journey took;
At once the currents all forgot their way.
And lost their purple in the azure sea.
Soon from the lower parts the spirits fled.
And motionless the exhausted limbs lay dead:
Not so the nobler regions, where the heart.
And heaving lungs, their vital powers exert;
There lingering late, and long conflicting, life
Rose against fate, and still maintain'd the strife:
Driven out at length, unwillingly and slow,
She left her mortal house, and sought the shades below.
While eager for the fight, a hardy crew
To one sole side their force united drew,
The bark, unapt the' unequal poise to bear.
Turn'd o'er, and rear'd her lowest keel in air:
In vain his active arms the swimmer tries.
No aid the swimmer's useless arts supplies;
The covering vast, o'erwhelming shuts 'em down,
And helpless in the hollow hold they drown.
One slaughter terrible above the rest,
The fatal horror of the fight express'd.
As o'er the crowded surface of the flood
A youthful swimmer swift his way pursued;
Two meeting ships, by equal fury press'd,
With hostile prows transfix'd his ample breast:
Suspended by the dreadful shock he hung,
The brazen beaks within his bosom rang;
Blood, bones, and entrails, mashing with the blow,
From his pale lips a hideous mixture flow.
At length the backing oars the fight restrain.
The lifeless body drops amidst the main,
Soon enter at the breach the rushing waves,
And the salt stream the mangled carcase lay.
Around the watery champain wide dispread.
The living shipwrecks float amidst the dead;
With active arms the liquid deep they ply.
And panting to their mates for succour cry.
Now to some social vessel press they near.
Their fellows pale the crowding numbers fear;
With ruthless hearts their well-known friends withstand,
And with keen falchions lop each grasping hand;
The dying fingers cling and clench the wood.
The heavy trunk sinks helpless in the flood.
Now spent was all the warriors' steely store,
New darts they seek, and other arms explore;
This wields a flag-staff, that a pondrous oar.
Wrath's ready hands are never at a loss;
The fragments of the shatter'd ship they toss.
The useless rower from his seat is cast,
Then fly the benches, and the broken mast.
Some seizing, as it sinks, the breathless corse.
From the cold grasp the blood-stain'd weapon force.
Some from their own fresh bleeding bosoms take.
And at the foe the dropping javelin shake:
The left-hand stays the blood, and soothes the pain,
The right sends back the reeking spear again.
Now gods of various elements conspire;
To Nereus, Vulcan joins his hostile fire;
Witu oils and living sulphur, darts they fiRme,
Prepar'd to spread afar the kindling flame:
Around the catching mischiefs swift succeed,
The floating hulks their own destruction feed;
The smeary wax the brightning blaze supplies,
And wavy fires from pitchy planks arise:
Amidst the flood the ruddy torrent strays,
And fierce upon the scattering shipwrecks preys;
Here one with haste a flaming vessel leaves;
Another, spent and beaten by the waves.
As eager to the burning ruin cleaves.
Amidst the various ways of death to kill,
Whether by seas, by fires, or wounding steel.
The dreadfullest is that, whose present force we feel.
Nor valour less her fatal rage maintains,
In daring breasts that swim the liquid plains:
Some, gather up the darts that floating lie.
And to the combatants new deaths supply.
Some struggling in the deep, the war provoke.
Rise o'er the surge, and um a languid stroke.
Some with strong grasp the foe conflicting join.
Mix limbs with limbs, and hostile wreathings twine,
Till plunging, pressing to the bottom down.
Vanquish'd and vanquishers alike they drown.
One, chief above the rest, is mark'd by fame.
For watery fight, and Phoceus was his name:
The heaving breath of life he knew to keep.
While long he dwelt within the lowest deep;
Full many a fathom down he had explor'd,
For treasures lost, old ocean's oozy hoard
Oft when the flooky anchor stock below.
He sank, and bade the captive vessel go.
A foe he seiz'd, close cleaving to his breast,
And underneath the tombling billows press'd':
Bot when the skilful victor would repair
To upper seas, and sought the freer air;
Hapless beneath the crowding keels he rose.
The crowding keels his wonted way oppose;
Back beaten, and astonish'd with the blow.
He sinks, to bide for ever now below.
Some hang upon the oars with weighty force,
To intercept the hostile vessel's coarse;
Some to the last the cause they love defend.
And valiant lives by useful deaths would end;
With breasts oppos'd the thund'ring beaks they brave.
And what they fought for living, dying save,
As Tyrrhen, from a Roman poop on high.
Ran o'er the various combat with his eye;
Sore aiming, from his Balearic thong,
Bold Ligdamus a pond'rous ballet slang;
Through liquid air the ball shrill whistling flies.
And cuts its way through hapless Tyrrhene's eyes.
The' astonish'd youth stands struck with sadden night,
While, bursting, start the bleeding orbs of sight.
At first he took the darkness to be death.
And thought himself amidst the shades beneath;
But soon recovering from the stunning sound.
He liv'd, unhappily he liv'd, he found.
Vigour at length, and wonted force returns.
And with new rage his valiant bosom burns;
"To me, my friends (he cried) your aid supply,
Nor useless let your fellow-soldier die;
Give roe, oppos'd against the foe to stand,
While, like some engine, you direct my hand
And thou,. my poor remaining life, prepare
To meet each hazard of the various war;
At least my mangled carcase shall pretend
To interpose, and shield some valiant friend:
Plac'd like a mark their darts I may sustain,-
And, to preserve some better man, be slain."
Thus said, unaiming he a javelin threw,
The javelin wing'd with sure destruction flew;
In Argus the descending steel takes place,
Argus, a Grecian of illustrious race.
Deep sinks the piercing point, where to the loins
Above the navel high the belly joins;
The staggering youth falls forward on his fate,
And helps the goring weapon with his weight.
It chanc'd, to ruthless destiny design'd,
T(r the same ship his aged sire was join'd
While young, for high achievements was be known.
The first in fair Massilia for renown;
Now an example merely, and a name,!
Willing to rouse the younger sort he came,
And Are their souls to emulate his fame.
When from the prow, where distant far he stood.
He saw his son lie weltering in his blood;
Soon to the poop, oft stumbling in his haste.
With faltering steps the feeble father pass'd.
No falling tears his wrinkled cheeks bedew.
But stiffening cold and motionless he grew:
Deep night and deadly shades of darkness rise.
And hide his much-lov'd Argus from his eyes.
As to the dizzy youth the sire appears,
His dying, weak, unwieldy head he rears;
With lifted eyes he cast a mournful look.
His pale lips mov'd, and fain he would have spoke;
But unexpress'd the' imperfect accent hung.
Lost in his falling jaws and murmuring tongue:
Yet in his speechless visage seems express'd.
What, had he words, would be his last request:
That aged hand to seal his closing eye.
And in his father's fond embrace to die:
But he, when grief with keenest sense revives,
With nature's strongest pangs conflicting strives:
"Let me not lose this hour of death, (he cries)
Which my indulgent destiny supplies;
And thou forgive, forgive me, oh my son!
If thy dear lips and last embrace I shun.
Warm from thy wound the purple current flows,
And vital breath yet heaving com and goes:
Yet my sad eyes behold thee yet alive,
And thou shall, yet, thy wretched sire survive."
He said, and fierce, by frantic sorrow press'd.
Plung'd his sharp sword amidst his aged breast:
And though life's gushing streams the weapon stain,
Headlong he leaps amidst the greedy main;
While this last wish ran ever in his mind.
To die, and leave his darling son behind;
Eager to part, his soul disdain'd to wait.
And trust uncertain to a single fate.
And now Massilia's vanquish'd force gives way.
And Caesar's fortune claims the doubtful day.
The Grecian fleet is all dispers'd around.
Some in the bottom of the deep lie drown'd;
Some, captives made, their haughty victors bore,
While some, but those few, fled timely to the shore.
But oh! what verse, what numbers can express,
The mournful city, and her sore distress!
Upon the beach lamenting matrons stand.
And wailings echo o'er the lengthening strand;
Their eyes are fix'd upon the waters wide.
And watch the bodies driving with the tide.
Here a fond wife, with pious error, press'd
Some hostile Roman to her throbbing breast;
There to a mangled trunk two mothers run.
Each grasps, and each would claim it for her son;
Each, what her boding heart persuades, believes,
And for the last sad office fondly strives.
But Brutus, now victorious on the main,
To Caesar vindicates the watery plain;
First to his brow he binds the naval crown,
And bids the spacious deep the mighty master own.