LUCAN'S PHARSALIA: OR THE CIVIL WARS OF ROME, between POMPEY the great, and JULIUS CAESAR.  
The whole ten Books, Englished by THOMAS MAY, Esquire.  
The second Edition, corrected, and the Annotations enlarged by the Author.  
LONDON, Printed by Aug. Mathewes, for Thomas jones, and are to be sold at his shop in St. Dunstanes Church-yard. 1631.   

THis dying Figure that rare Lucan shows,  
Whose lofty genius great Apollo choose  
When Roman liberty oppressed should die,  
To sing her sad, and solemn obsequy  
In stately numbers, high, as Rome was great;  
And not so much to years indebted yet,  
As thou, famed Maro, when thy infant verse  
The Gnats low funeral did first rehearse.  
Thy favoured Muse did find a different fate:  
Thou got'st Augustus' love, he Nero's hate;  
But 'twas an act more great, and high to move  
A Prince's envy, than a Prince's love.   


Heu Nero crudelis, nullaque invisior umbra▪  
Debuit hoc saltem non licuisse tibi.  Martial 
LVCAN'S Pharsalia: OR THE CIVIL Wars of Rome, between POMPEY the great, and JULIUS CAESAR. The whole ten Books. Englished by Thomas May. Esquire.  
LONDON Printed for Thomas jones. Anno 1631.    

TO THE RIGHT Honourable WILLIAM, Earl of Devonshire. etc.  
MY LORD,  
THe great subject of this stately Poem, together with the worth of the noble Author, have enboldned me to present the Translation (how meanly soever I have performed it) to your Honourable hand. I cannot but presume that the high, and rich conceits of Lucan from your deep judgement shall find their proper, and due approbation, and my defects, from your noble candour, an easy, and gentle censure. The matter of this Work is a true History adorned and heightened with Poetical raptures, which do not adulterate, nor corrupt the truth, but give it a more sweet and pleasant relish. The History of it, is the greatest of Histories, the affairs of Rome, whose transcendent greatness will admit no comparison with other States either before, or after it; Rome was then at that great height, in which S. Augustin wished to have seen it, which after Ages almost with adoration have admired, and do rather conjecture then fully comprehend. The blood of her valiant citizens, and the conquests, and triumphs of so many ages had raised her now to that unhappy height, in which she could neither retain her freedom without great troubles, nor fall into a Monarchy but most heavy and distasteful. In one the greatness of private Citizens excluded moderation: in the other the vast strength, and forces of the Prince gave him too absolute and undetermined a power. The vices of Rome did at this time not only grow up to their power, but overthrew it. Luxury and Pride, the wicked daughters of so noble a Mother as the Roman Virtue, began to consume that which brought them forth. These were the seeds of that faction, which rend the State, and brought in violently a change of government. The two heads of this great division (if we may term Pompey the head of a faction, & not rather the true servant of the public State) were Pompey the great, and Julius Caesar, men of greater eminence than the former ages had seen any, whose prosperous atchivements in foreign wars had too far enabled them to ruin that state, which before they served. The Author of it was a noble Roman, rich in his mind as his large fortunes, of whose happy conceits, and high raptures I forbear to dispute, or any way anticipate your Lordship's judgement. To whose noble censure I refer both the Author, and my poor endeavours, and shall ever rest.  
Your Lordships to command, THO. MAY.   

THE LIFE OF MARCUS ANNAEUS LUCANUS.  
MARCUS Annaeus Lucanus was by nation a Spaniard, and borne at Cordubu. His father's name was Marcus Annaeus Mela, son to Lucius Annaeus Seneca the orator, and brother to julius Gallio, and Lucius Seneca the Philosopher, Nero's Tutor. The two elder Brothers employed at Rome in state affairs (especially Seneca) arrived at the height both of dignity, and renown. They were both Senators, and by their worthy endeavours deserved not only to be powerful in their own times, but famous to all posterity. Marcus Mela the youngest brother content with that title, which his birth gave him, a Roman knight, and preferring the sweetness of a country life before the glorious trouble of a court employment, lived at home at his native Corduba; he married Caia Acilia the daughter of Acilius Lucanus the Orator, on whom he begat Marcus Annaeus Lucanus surnamed of his grandfather by the mother's side. Annaeus Mela, though but a Roman Knight, was (saith Tacitus) a great man, and he begat Lucan, no small addition to his greatness; a great testimony of Lucan's worth from so judicious an author as Cornelius Tacitus. He was borne at Corduba, the third of the Nones of November in the second Consulship of Caius Caesar Germanicus with Lucius Caesianus. When he was eight months old, his father brought him to Rome, to season his infancy (so soon as it might be capable) with the choicest education in learning, and manners. At which time (if we may credit fame, and as was before reported of Plato) Bees swarmed about the child's cradle, and pressed in clusters toward his mouth. A happy presage▪ (as the learned interpreted it) of his future wit, and admired eloquence. His Tutors, and Schoolmasters were the most eminent, and famous men of those times, Rhemnius Palaemon the Grammarian, and Flavius Virginius the Rhetorician. By whose careful instructions, as by his own diligence, and admirable facility of natural wit, he arrived in a short time to an high perfection as well in the Greek, as Roman language. Of all his schoolefellowes he most used the friendship of Salcius Bassus, & Anlus Persius the Satirist, He married Polla Argentaria the daughter of Pollius Argentarius, a Noble, Rich, and learned Lady. Brought to the Court by his Uncle Seneca, he grew suddenly into great favour with Nero the Emperor. He was made Quaestor before the usual time, and admitted into the College of Augurs. But what virtue could long be safe in such a Court? the jealous tyrant being not able to brook another man's praises; who amongst all his other crueltyes, was most severe in depressing the fame of deserving Men. Nero therefore envying the Wit, and excellent Poetry of Lucan, suppressed his works, and forbade him any more to recite Verses. Which indignity of all other most hard to be endured (as witty Marshal.  Qui velit ingenio cedere rarus erit.) 
Discontenting Lucan, drew him into Piso's conspiracy. The conspiracy detected, Lucan by Nero was commanded to die, but liberty given him to choose his death. Who after a full feast, bade the Physicians cut his veins; and when he perceived through loss of blood his hands, and feet to wax cold, and the vital spirits forsaking the outward parts of his body, with a mind, and look undaunted he recited these Veries of his own in the third book of his Pharialia. 
Scinditur awlsus, nec sicut vulnere sanguis  
Emicuit lextus, ruptis cadit ●n●ique venis;  
Discursusque animae diversa in membra meantis  
Interceptus aquis; nullius vita perempti  
Est tanta dimissa via.  But others say he did not repeat these Verses, but those in the ninth Book, 
Sanguis erant lachrymae: quaecunque foramina novit  
Humour, ab his largus manat cruor: ora redundant,  
Et patulae nares: sudor rubet: omnia plenis  
Membra fluunt venis: totum est pro vulnere corpus.  These were his last words. He died the day before the Calends of May, in the seven and twentyeth year of his age, Nerva Syllanus, and Vestinius Atticus being Consuls. He was buried at Rome in his own most fair, and sumptuous Gardens.   

To my chosen Friend, The learned Translator of LVAN, THOMAS MAY, Esquire.  
WHen, Rome, I read thee in thy mighty pair,  
And see both climbing up the slippery stair  
Of Fortune's wheel by Lucan driven about,  
And the world in it, I begin to doubt,  
At every line some pin thereof should slack  
At least, if not the general Engine crayke.  
But when again I utew the parts so peized,  
And those in number so, and measure raised,  
As neither Pompey's popularity,  
Caesar's ambitions, Cato's liberty,  
Calm Brutus tenor start; but all along  
Keep due proportion in the ample song,  
It makes me ravished with just wonder cry  
What Muse, or rather God of harmony  
T●ught Lucan these true moods! replies my sense  
What gods but those of arts, and eloquece?  
Phoebus, and Hermes? They whose tongue, or pen  
Are still th' interpreters 'twixt gods, and men!  
But who hath them interpreted, and brought  
Lucan's whole frame unto us, and so wrought,  
As not the smallest joint, or gentlest word  
In the great mass, or machine there is stirred?  
The self same Genius! so the work will say.  
The Sun translated, or the Son of May.  
Your true friend to judgement and Choice BEN. JONSON.   

Upon this vnaequalled work, and the Author.  
Room had been still my wonder: I had known  
Lucan, in no expression but his own:  
And had, as yet conjectured it, a wrong,  
To have praised Caesar in another tongue.  
To bring forth One, that could but understand,  
I thought a pride too great, for any Land,  
Yea, for Rome's self. Who would be posed to tell  
How great she was, when she could write so well.  
Tell truth was nearer brought by thee: till I  
Found Lucan Languaged, like my infancy.  
Till Rome was met in England in that State  
That was, at once, her greatness, and her fate;  
So all to us discovered, that naught's hid  
Which either she could speak, or Caesar did.  
Beyond which, nothing can be done by thee,  
Though thou hadst more of Lucan, than we see  
Revealed in this: wherein there is so much  
Of miracle, that I, durst doubt him, such  
As thou hast rendered him But that I know  
'tis cross to be thy friend, and Lucan's foe,  
Whom thou hast made so much thyself, that we  
May almost strive about his Pedigree,  
Since Rome hath nothing left, to prove him heart  
But the foul instance of his Murderers.  
So neatly hast thou robbed her of his name,  
That she can only reskewed with a shame,  
Which may she do; whilst Nations reckon thee,  
Lucan in all, except Rome's infancy.  
I. VAUGHAN.   

LUCAN'S Pharsalia. The first Book.  
The Argument of the first Book.  
The fatal causes of this war are shown,  
Enraged Caesar passes Rubicon,  
Invades Arim'num, where to him from Rome  
Curio, and both the banished Tribunes come  
With new incitements to these civil Wars.  
Caesar's Oration to his Soldiers,  
Bold Laelius protestation, which by all  
The rest confirmed makes the General  
Draw out from every part of France at once  
His now dispersed, and wintring Legions,  
Rome's fear; great Pompey with the Senate, flies;  
Heaven, air, and earth are filled with prodigies.  
The Prophets thence, and learned Augurs show  
The wrath of Heaven, and Rome's ensuing woe.  
Wars more than civil on Aemathian plains  
We sing: rage licenced; where great Rome disdains  
In her own bowels her victory us swords;  
Where kindred hosts encounter, all accords  
Of Empire broke: where armed to impious war  
The strength of all the shaken world from far  
Is met; known Ensigns Ensigns do defy,  
Piles (a) against Piles, 'gainst Eagles Eagles fly.  
What fury, Countrymen, what madness could  
Move you to feast your fo●s with Roman blood?  
And choose such wars, as could no triumphs yield,  
Whilst yet proud Babylon un or quered held  
The boasting trophaes of a Roman host,  
And unrevenged wandered Crassus (b) Ghost?  
Alas, what Seas, what Lands might you have ta'en,  
With that blood's loss, which civil hands have drawn?  
Yours had been Titan's rising, yours his set,  
The Kingdoms scorched in Meridian heat,  
And those, where winter, which no spring can ease,  
With lasting cold doth glaze the Scythian seas;  
The Seres yours, the wild Araxis too,  
And those that see Nile's spring, if any do,  
Than 'gainst thyself, if war so wicked, Rome,  
Thou love, when all the world is overcome,  
Turn back thy hand: thou didst not want a Foe.  
But now that walls of half fallen houses so  
Hang in Italian Towns, vast stones we see  
Of ruined walls, whole houses empty be,  
And ancient Towns are not inhabited;  
That untilled Italy's with weeds o'erspread,  
And the neglected Ploughs want labouring hands,  
Not thou fierce Pyrrhus, nor the Punic Bands  
This waste have made; no sword could reach so far,  
Deep pierce the wounds received in civil war.  
But if no other way to Nero's reign  
The ●ates could find, if gods their Crowns obtain,  
At such dear rates, and Heaven could not obey  
Her jove, but after the stern Giants fray;  
Now we complain not, gods, mischief and war  
Pleasing to us; since so rewarded, are;  
Let dire Pharsalia groan with armed Hosts,  
And glut with blood the Carthaginian Ghosts:  
With these let Munda's (c) fatal Battle go,  
Mutina's (d) Siege, Perusias (e) famine too:  
To these add Actiums (f) bloody Naval fight,  
And near Sicilia (g) Sextus slavish Fleet.  
Yet much owes Rome to civil enmity  
For making thee our Prince; when thou the sky  
Though late, shalt climb, & changethine earthly reign,  
Heaven, as much graced, with joy shall entertain,  
And welcome thee, whether thou wouldst put on  
Jove's Crown, or ride in Phoebus' burning Throne,  
(Earth will not fear the change) thence mayst thou shine  
down on thy World; to thee all power divine  
Will yield, and Nature to thy choice will give  
What god to be, or where in Heaven to live.  
But near the Northern Bea●e oh do not reign,  
Nor cross the point of the Meridian,  
From whence obliquely thou shouldst Rome behold,  
If all thy weight one part of Heaven should hold,  
The Honoured load would bow heaven's Axletree;  
Hold thou the middle of the poised Sky:  
Let all the air between transparent be,  
And no dark Cloud 'twixt us, and Caesar fly.  
Then let Mankind forget all war and strife,  
And every Nation love a peaceful life.  
Let peace through all the world in this blessed state  
Once more shut war like janus' Iron gate.  
Oh be my god: If thou this breast inspire,  
Phoebus from Cirrhaes' shades I'll not desire,  
Nor Nysa's Bacchus, Caesar can infuse  
Virtue enough into a Roman muse.  
The cause of these great actions I'll declare,  
And open a mighty work, what drew to war,  
Our furious People and the World beside;  
Fates envious course, continuance still denied:  
To mighty States, who greatest falls still fear,  
And Rome not able her own weight to bear.  
So when the knot of Nature is dissolu'de,  
And the world's Ages in one hour involved  
In their old Chaos, Seas with Skies shall join,  
And Stars with Stars confounded lose their shine:  
The Earth no longer shall extend her shore  
To keep the Ocean out: the Moon no more  
Follow the Sun, but scorning her old way  
cross him, and claim the guidance of the day.  
The falling worlds now jarring frame no peace,  
No league shall hold; great things themselves oppress,  
The gods this bound to groaning states have set;  
But to no Foreign arms would Fortune yet  
Lend her own envy o'er great Rome, that awes  
Both Land and Sea; she's her own ruins cause  
Subjected jointly to three (b) Lords; how ill  
Prove shared rules accords, and fatal, still?  
Ambition blinded Lords, what's th' happiness  
To mix your powers, and jointly th' earth possess?  
Whilst Land the Sea, and Air the Land shall bond,  
Whilst labouring Titan runs his glorious round,  
And through twelve heavenly signs night follows day,  
No faith keep those, that kingdoms jointly sway;  
Rule brooks no sharers; do not this believe  
In foreign states, Rome can examples give.  
A brother's blood did our first walls distain;  
Nor was the spacious earth and watery maine  
This mischief's price: a refuge for thieves fled.  
A little house this brother's hatred bred.  
This jarring concord lasted for a space  
Dissembled 'twixt the two: for Crassus was  
The wars sole let, like that small neck of land,  
That in the midst of two great Seas does stand,  
And will not let them join; that ta'en away,  
Strait the ionian meets th' Aegaean Sea:  
So when war parting Crass●● sadly slain  
With Roman blood did Asian Charan stain,  
That Parthian loss to homebred rage gave reins;  
More than you think you did fierce Parthians  
That day: our civil war your conquest wrought,  
And now Rome's Empire by the sword is sought:  
That State, that mistress o'er the World did reign,  
Ruled Land and Sea, yet could not two contain.  
For Julia's (t) de●th, whom cruel Fates before  
Had slain, the pledge of their alliance bore  
down to her grave; if Fate had spar'de her life,  
Her furious husband, and stern father's strife  
She had composed, and made their armed hands  
Let fall their swords, and join in friendship's bands:  
As once the Sabin women enterposde,  
Their sires and husbands bloody jars composed,  
Thy death, fair julia, breaks off all accords,  
And gives them leave again to draw their swords:  
On both sides powerful aemusation bears  
On their ambitious spirits; great Pompey fears  
That his pi●aticke Laurel should give place  
To conquered France, and Caesar's deeds deface  
His ancient triumphs; fortunes constant grace  
Makes him impatient of a second place;  
Nor now can Caesar a superior brook,  
Nor Pompey brook a peer; who justlier taken  
Up arms, great judges differ, heaven approves  
The conquering cause; the conquered Cato loves  
Nor were they equal, one in years was grown,  
And long accustomed to a peaceful gown  
Had now forgot the Soldier: Fame he bought  
By bounty to the people: and much sought  
For popular praise: his theatres loud shout  
Was his delight; new strength he sought not out,  
Relying on his ancient fortune's fame,  
And stood the shadow of a glorious name.  
As an old lofty Oak, that heretofore  
Great Conquerors spoils, and sacred Trophies bore,  
Stands firm by his own weight, his root now dead,  
And through the air his naked boughs does spread,  
And with his trunk, not leaves, a shadow makes:  
He, though each blast of Eastern wind him shakes,  
And round about well rooted Trees do grow,  
Is only honoured; but in Ceasar now  
Remains not only a great General's name,  
But restless valour, and in wa●re a shame  
Not to be Conqueror; fierce, not curbed at all,  
Ready to fight, where hope, or anger call,  
His forward Sword; confident of success,  
And hold the favour of the gods to press:  
Orethrowing all that his ambition stay,  
And loves that ruin should enforce his way;  
As lightning by the wind f●rc'd from a cloud  
Breaks through the wounded air with thunder loud,  
Disturbs the D●y, the people terrifyes,  
And by a light oblique dazzles our eyes,  
Not Jove's own Temple spares it; when no force,  
No bar an hinder his prevailing course,  
Great wa●e, as fo●rth it fallyes and roures,  
It makes and gathers his dispersed fires.  
These causes moved the Chiefs, and such as are  
In might● st●tes the common seeds of war  
For since our C●ests the conquered world hath filled  
Too full, and virtue did to riches yield,  
Since spoils, and warlike rapine taught us riot,  
Excess in Plate, in buildings reigns; he dye●  
Of formertimes we scorn; that soft attire.  
That Women were ashamed of, Men desire.  
Strength-breeding poverty is fled, and nought  
But wealth from all the spoilt world is sought,  
The banc of States; those Lands increased they hold  
In th' hands of unknown Tenants, which of old  
Caemillus plough share wounded, and the hands  
Of th' ancient Curii tilled; the state now stands,  
Not as of old, when men from avarice free  
Could live in peace, and wished but liberty.  
Hence quarrels grow, what poverty esteemed  
A vild offence: now's greatest honour deemed,  
By Sword our Country's power in curb to hold:  
Might measures ●ight: Laws and decrees are sold,  
Consuls and Tribunes jars all right suppress,  
Fasces are bought, the people's suffrages  
Corruptly sought, and given; hence bloody jars  
Oft stain elections in the field of Ma●s:  
So griping Usury grows, so faith is l●st,  
And civil war, as gainful, sought by most.  
By this time Caesar the cold Alpes orepast,  
In his great thoughts the future war had cast,  
And now to Rubicon's small current come,  
He dreams the Image of affrighted Rome  
With countenance sad through dusky night appearest  
On her towre-bearing head her hoary hairs,  
Hung down all torn, her arms were naked when she  
T●us sighing speaks; oh whither carry ye,  
My Ensigns Soldiers: If you come as friends,  
As Roman Citizens, your march here ends (k)  
A sudden fear strait chill the general veins,  
His hair's with horror raised, faintness detains  
His steps upon the bank; then thus he pra●●s:  
Thou, jove, whose eye these City walls surveys  
From thy Tarpeian hill: You Deities,  
Of Troy, and Romulus hid mysteries,  
Thou Latian jove worshipped on th' Alban mount,  
You Vestal fires, and Rome, whom I account  
My greatest God, bless this attempt; not thee,  
Do I invade: Conqueror by land and sea  
Thy Caesar comes, thy Soldier still: Be he  
He in the fault, that caused this enmity  
Then brooking no delay, the stream showre-swelled  
He marches over; so in a libyan field  
A Lion viewing his stern foe at hand,  
Till he collect his ire doth doubtful stand:  
But strait when his Tails swinge has made him ho●,  
And raised his shaggy M●ne, from his wide throat  
He roaves; then if a Mauritanian Spear,  
Or Shaft have pierced his side, void of all fear,  
Regardless of that wound he rushes on.  
Gently along flows ruddy Rubicon  
From a small Spring, when Summer in her pride,  
And gliding through the valley does divide  
Gallia from Italy, now Winter lent  
Him strength, and Cynthia her full horns had spent  
In showers to raise his flood, and melted snow  
The moist Eastwind made down the Alpes to flow.  
The Horsemen first are placed against the stream,  
To take the waters fury: under them  
The Foot men sheltered, found a passage over  
More calm, the current being broke before  
But now when Caesar had o'ercome the flood,  
And Italy's forbidden ground had trod,  
He●e Peace, and broken Laws I leave, quoth he,  
Farewell all Leagues: Fortune I'll follow thee  
No more we'll trust: War shall determine all:  
This said, by Night the active General  
Swifter than Parthian back-shot shaft, or stone  
From Balearieke Slinger, marches on  
T'invade Ariminum; when every star  
Fled from th'approaching Sun but Luc●fer,  
And that day dawned, that first these broils should see,  
Either the moist southwinds, or Heaven's decree  
With pitchy Clouds darkened the fatal day;  
When now the Soldiers by command made stay  
I●th Market place, shrill trumpets flourished round,  
And the h●●rse Horns wicked alarms sound.  
With this sad noise the People's rest was broke,  
The young men rose, and from the temples took  
Their Arms, now such as long peace had marr'de.  
And their old bucklers now of leather's bar'de:  
Their blunted Piles not of a long time used,  
And Swords with th'eatings of black rust abused.  
The Roman Colours, and known Eagles then,  
a Caesar in the midst high m●uted seen,  
The townsmen's trembling joints for horror faint,  
And to themselves they make this sad complaint:  
Oh ill built City too too near the Gaul,  
Oh sadly situated place; when all  
The world have peace, we are the spoil of war,  
And first that are invaded: happier fare  
Might we have lived in farthest North, or East,  
Or wand'ring tents of Scythia, then possessed  
The edge of Italy. This town of ours  
First felt the furious Gauls, and Cymbrian powers,  
Hither the Libyans first, and Germans come,  
This is wa●●es way, when Fortune threatens Rome.  
Thus silently they mourn, and durst not lend  
Their grief a word, nor tears in public spend.  
As Birds by winters raging cold are still'de,  
And the mid-ocean does no murmur yield  
But when bright day dissolved the damps of night,  
The Fates new firebrands bring, and stir to fight  
Caesar's yet doubting mind, leaving no pause  
To shame, but fortune finds him out a cause  
Of arms, and labours to make just his war.  
The factious Tribunes by the Senate are  
Against their sacred privilege exiled,  
And by the Graechi's (l) factious names revil'de.  
These now to Caesar came, and brought along  
With them bold Curio's (m) mercenary tongue:  
That tongue, that once the People's, boldly stood  
'Gainst armed great ones for the public good.  
He when he saw the General musing, said,  
While this my voice, Caesar, thy cause could aid,  
We did prorogue, though 'gainst the Senate's will,  
Thy government, while Oratoryes skill  
Could turn the wavering People's hearts to thee.  
But since by wars rough hand Laws silenced be;  
We are exiled, and gladly it sustain,  
To be endenized by thy Sword again,  
Whilst their yet strengthless side is only scarr'de,  
Use no delay: delay hurts men prepared,  
A greater price on equal danger here  
Is set; in Gallia's war alone ten year,  
Thou hast consumed: but here, one field well fought,  
Rome has the world to thy subjection brought,  
Now thy return from France with victory  
No pompous triumph waits: no Bays for thee,  
Shall deck the Capitol; ba●e envy's hands  
Keep back thy due: conquest of warlike Lands,  
Is made a crime in thee, and Pompey's pride  
Excludes thy rule: nor canst thou now divide  
The world; the world thou mayst possess alone.  
This speech gave fire to Caesar too too prone  
Before to war; so people's shouts raise more  
A fierce Olympic Steed striving before  
To force the Lists, and break th' opposing bars,  
Strait to the Standard all his Soldiers  
Caesar assembling, 'middst their murmuring noise  
Commands a silence with his hand and voice,  
Fellows in Arms, that have endured with me,  
A thousand storms in ten years' victory,  
Have our spent bloods in northern Climes deserved  
This, all our wounds, so many winters served  
Under the Alpes? not more provision Rome  
Would make for war, if Hannibal had come  
Over the Alpes: Cohorts they reinforce,  
Forests are felled for Shipping; all the force  
Of Land and Sea is armed 'gainst Caesar now.  
What more (had we been vanquished) would they do?  
If the fierce Gauls our flying backs pursued,  
That dare now wrong us; when our wars conclude  
Successfully, and friendly Gods us call?  
Let the long peace-infeebled General  
His gowns, and new raised Soldiers bring along;  
Vain names the Cato's, and Marcellus tongue.  
Must he with Foreign, and bought clients be  
Glutted with still continuing sovereignty?  
Can he triumphant Chariots mount before  
The Year's appointed, (●) and let go no more  
Honours (o) usurped? why should I now complain  
Of the law's breach, and famine (p) made for gain?  
Th' affrighted forum (q) with armed men beset,  
Drawn swords environing the judgement seat,  
When 'gainst all law, Milo for murder tried  
Pompey's proud Colours closed on every side?  
Now lest his age, though tired, a private state  
Should end, by impious civil war his hate  
He seeks to glut, scorning but to excel  
His Master Sylla's guilt: as Tigers fell,  
Whom their fierce Dam with slaughtered Cattles blood  
Was wont to nourish in th' Hyrcanian wood,  
Near lose their fury: so thou Pompey used  
To lick the blood that Sylla's swords effused  
Retain'st thy former thirst; never again  
Grow those laws pure, that blood did once distain.  
When wilt thou end thy too long tyranny,  
Where bound thy (r) guilt? in this at least to thee  
A pattern let thy Master Sylla be  
To leave off such usurped sovereignty.  
After the Pirates, and tired Pontic King,  
Whose war to end scarce Poisons (s) help could bring  
Must Caesar's fall Pompey's last triumph make,  
Because commanded I did not forsake  
My conquering Army? but if I be barred  
My labours me●de, let these have the reward  
Of their long service; let these Soldiers all  
Triumph, though under any General,  
Where shall their bloodless age after the War  
Find rest? what lands shall my old Soldiers share?  
Where shall they plow? where shall their City stand?  
Are Pirates, (t) Pompey, worthier of Land?  
March on victorious colours, march away,  
The strength that we have made, we must employ.  
He gives the strongest all things, that denies  
His due; nor want we aiding Deities,  
Nor spoil those arms do seek, nor Sovereignty:  
But to free Rome, though bend to slavery.  
Thus spoke he: the yet doubting Soldiers  
Uncertain murmurs raise: though fierce with wars  
Long use, their household gods their minds 'gan move,  
And piety: but strait the swords dire love  
And fear of Caesar turned them back again.  
Lalius the first Files leading did obtain:  
For saving of a Roman Soldier  
Oake-crownd, and freed from duties of the war.  
If I may speak, Rome's greatest General,  
Thy Soldiers thoughts, quoth he; It grieves us all,  
That such long patience kept thee from so just  
A war: or didst thou not thine army trust?  
While lifeblood keeps this breathing body warm,  
While brandished Darts fly from this agile arm,  
Wilt thou weak gowns, and Senate's reign endure?  
In civil war is Conquest so impure?  
Led us through Libyas gulfs, cold Seythian land,  
Led us o'er thirsty Africa's scorched sand.  
This arm the conquered world behind to leave  
Has plowde the British Oceans curled wave,  
And broke the Rhines swift current; thy command  
To do, my will's as ready as my hand.  
he's not my friend, 'gainst whom thy trumpets sound,  
By these thy colours, which ten Camps have found  
Ever victorious, Caesar, here I swear,  
And by thy triumphs, o'er what foe so ere,  
If thou command me spill my brother's life,  
Kill my old Father, or my pregnant wife,  
I'll do't though with a most unwilling hand▪  
Fire Temples, rob the gods at thy command.  
Great juno's Temple in our flames shall sink:  
If to encamp on Tuscan Tiber's brink,  
I'll boldly pitch in Italy thy tent.  
If to dismantle towns be thy intent,  
These arms of mine the battering Ram shall place,  
Although the city, thou wouldst quite deface,  
Were Rome itself. The Soldiers all agree,  
And promise ●im their lifted hands on high  
To any war. Their shout not that can pass,  
Which the loud blast of Thracian Boreas  
On piny Ossa makes, and bows amain  
The rattling wood, or lets it rise again.  
Caesar perceiving that the Fates gave way  
To war, and his Men prone, fearing delay,  
His troops through France dispersed strait calling home  
With flying colours marches on to Rome.  
They leave their tents pitched by Lemanus (v) Lake,  
And those on Vogesus high Rocks forsake,  
Which awed the painted Lingones so strong,  
Isara's Fords they leave, that run so long  
Alone; but in a River of more fame  
Falling to ' the Ocean bears an other name.  
The yellow Ruthens eas'de of their long fear:  
Mild A tax joys no Roman ships to bear:  
And Varus Italyes increased bound.  
That haven Alcides' consecrated ground  
With Cliffs o'erlooks the Sea; no Northwest wind,  
Nor West blow there▪ Cirtius their proper wind  
Reigns there, where safe Alcides' fort does stand.  
And that still doubtfull-coast, that Sea and Land  
calling by turns: firm land it is when low  
The Ocean ebbs, but sea at every flow.  
Wither the wind strong blowing from the Pole,  
And then retiring, to and fro do roll  
The Sea: or that the Moon his course do guide:  
Or burning Titan moist food to provide,  
Attracting lift the Ocean to the sky,  
Seek you that labour for such skill: for me,  
What ere thou be that cause this ebb and flow,  
Be still concealed; since heaven will have it so.  
They march away that Nemasus did hold,  
And Adores banks, where Tarbe does enfold  
In her crooked shore the sea that gently flows.  
The Santoni rejoice now freed from foes:  
Th'Leuci and Rhemi Archers good; with these  
Bituriges, and Speare-armed Suessones.  
The dwellers near Sequana skilful riders.  
The Belgae hooke-armed Chariots expert guiders.  
Sprung from the Trojan blood the Hedui,  
That durst claim brotherhood of Italy.  
Rebellious Ne●uiars (x) stained with Cotta's fate;  
And they that in loose Mantles imitate  
Sarmatia; fierce Batavians whom to war  
Crooked Trumpets call; those that near Cinga are;  
Where Araxis with Rhodanus now met  
Runs joined into the Sea; the men whose seat  
Is on Gebenna mount covered with snow.  
The Pictones now free their fields can plow.  
The fickle Turones are not restrained  
By garrison; the Andian now disdained  
To pine in Medna's thick fogs: but goes  
For pleasure, where delightful Liger flows.  
Fair Genabos is freed from garrison;  
Trever is glad the war from thence is gone:  
The Ligures now shorn, once like the rest.  
Long haired, of all the unshorn Gauls the best:  
And where with offerings stained of humane blood  
Hermes and Mars their cruel Altars stood,  
And jove that vil● as Scythian Diana's are.  
Then you that valiant souls, and slain in war  
Do celebrate w●th praise that never dies,  
You Bards securely sung your Elegyes.  
You Druids now freed from war maintain  
Your Barbarous rites, and Sacr●fice again.  
You what heaven is, and gods alone can tell,  
Or else alone are ignorant; you dwell  
In vast, and desert woods: you teach no spirit  
Pluto's pale kingdom can by death inherit.  
They in another world inform again:  
The midst 'twixt long lives (if you truth maintain)  
Is death. But those wild people happy are,  
In this their error, whom fear greatest far  
Of all fears injures not, the fear of death;  
Thence are they prone to war: nor loss of breath  
Esteem: nor spare a life that comes again.  
They that the haired Cayes did contain  
In their obedience, marching now to Rome,  
From Rhines rude banks, and new found country come  
When Caesar's now collected strength had bred  
More lofty hopes; through Italy he spread  
His troops, and all the neighbouring Cities seized,  
Then idle rumours their true fears increased,  
And pierced the people's hearts, swift fame 'gan show  
The wars approach, and their ensuing woe.  
Then every tongue a false alarm yields:  
Some dare report that on the pasture fields  
Of fair Mevania is the war begun,  
And bloody Caesar's barbarous Cohorts run  
Where Vmbrian Nar does into Tiber flow:  
That all his Eagles, and joined Standards now  
With a vast strength make furious approach:  
Nor do they now suppose him to be such,  
As once they saw him: fiercer far than so  
They think, and savage as his conquered foe:  
That all th' inhabitants 'twixt th'alps and Rhine  
Drawn from their countries and cold Northern clime  
Follow: and Rome (a Roman looking on)  
By barbarous hands shall fall; thus every one  
By fear gives strength to Fame: no author known,  
They fear what they suppose: but not alone  
The People does this vain surmise deceive:  
The Senate shakes; th' affrighted Fathers leave  
Their seats: and flying to the Consuls give  
Directions for the war; Where safe to live,  
What place t'avoid they know not: whither ere  
Their sudden wits directs their steps, they be●re  
Th'amazed people forth in troops: whom nought  
So long had stirr'de: a man would then have thought  
The city fired, orth'houses sudden fall  
By earthquake threatened, the mad people all  
With hasty steps so unadvised run,  
As if no way at all were left to shun  
Their imminent, and feared destruction,  
But to forsake their habitation:  
As when rough Seas by stormy Auster blown  
From Libia's Sands, have broke the maire mast down,  
Master and Mariners their Ship forsake  
Not torn as yet, leap into th'Sea, and make  
Themselves a Shipwreck: so from th' City they  
Fly into war: no Sire his son can stay,  
No weeping wife her Husband can persuade:  
No nor their household gods, till they have made  
Vows for their safety; none an eye dares cast  
Back on loved Rome, although perhaps his last.  
Irrevocably do the people fly.  
You gods that easily give prosperity,  
But not maintain it, that great city filled  
With native souls, and conquered; that would yield  
Mankind a dwelling: is abandoned now  
An easy prey to Caesar; when a foe  
Begirts our Soldiers in a foreign Land,  
One little trench night's danger can withstand;  
A sudden work raised out of earth endures  
The foe's assault; th' encamped's sleep secures.  
Thou Rome, a war but noysd, art left by all,  
Not one nights safety trusted to thy wall.  
But pardon their amaze; when Pompey flies,  
'Tis time to fear; then lest their hearts should rise  
With hope of future good, sad augury bodes  
A worse ensuing fate: the threatening gods  
Fill heaven, and earth, and sea with prodigies.  
Unheard-of Stars by night adorn the skies:  
Heaven seems to flame, and through the Welkin fire  
Obliquely flies: state-changing comets dire  
Display to us their blood portending hair:  
Deceitful lightnings flash in clearest air.  
Strange form Meteors the thick air had bred  
Like javelins long, like lamps more broadly spread▪  
Lightning without one crack of thunder brings  
From the cold North his winged fires, and flings  
Them 'gainst our Capitol: small stars, that use  
Only by night, their lustre to diffuse,  
Now shine in midst of day: Cynthia bright  
In her full orb, like Phoe●us, at the sight  
Of earth's black shades eclipses Titan hides,  
(When moun●ed in the midst of heaven he rides)  
In clouds his burning Chariot, to enfold  
The world in darkness quite▪ day to beh●ld,  
No Nation hopes: as once back to the East  
He fled at sight of sad Thyestes feast;  
Fierce Vulcan opts Sicilian Aetna's throat,  
But to the sky her flames she belches no●,  
But on th' Italian shore obliquely flings;  
Blood from her bottom black Charybdis brings:  
Sadlyer bark Scylla's dogs than they were wont:  
The Vestal fire goes out: on th'Alban mount  
Jove's sacrificing fire itself divides  
Into two parts, and riseth on two sides,  
Like the two Theban Princes funeral fires.  
Earth opes her threatening jaws: th' Alpes nodding spires  
Shake off their snow: Thetis does highe● now  
'twixt Libyan Atlas, and Spain's Calpe flow.  
The native gods did weep: Rome's certain thrall  
The Lares sweeting showed: the offerings fall  
down in the Temples: and (as we have heard)  
Nights fatal Birds in midst of day appeared:  
Wild Beasts at midnight from the deserts come,  
And take bold lodging in the streets of Rome.  
Beasts make with men's articulate voice their mon●;  
Births monstrous both in limbs proportion,  
And number; mothers their own infants feared:  
Sibilla's fatal lines were sung and heard  
Among the people: and with bloody arms  
Cybel's head-shaking Priests pronounced their charms,  
I th' people's ears howling a baleful moan:  
And Ghosts from out their quiet urns did groan.  
Clashing of armour, and loud shouts they hear  
In desert groves, and threatenings Ghosts appear.  
The dwellers near without the City wall  
Fled: fierce Erynnis had encompassed all  
The town: her snaky hairs, and burning brand  
Shaking: as when she ruled Agau●'s hand,  
Or the self maimed Lycurgus: such was she,  
Who once, when sent by Inno's cruelty,  
Great Hercules (new come from Hell) did fright:  
Shrill trumpets sounded, dismal airs of night  
That horrid noise, that meeting armies yield,  
Did then present: in midst of Mars his field  
Rose Sylla's ghost, and woes ensuing told:  
Plowmen near Aniens streams Marius behold  
Rise from his sepulchre, and fly appalled.  
For these things were the Tuscan Prophets called  
As custom was: the sagest of them all  
Dwelled in Etrurian Luna's desert wall.  
Aruns, that lightning's motion understands,  
Birds flight, and entrailes op'te▪ he first commands  
Those monstrous births, that from no seed did come,  
But horrid issues of a barren womb,  
To be consumed in fire: then all the town  
To be encompassed in procession:  
Th' high Priests (whose charge it is) he next doth urge  
The City walls with hallowed rites to purge  
Through their whole circuit: following after these  
Th' inferior Priests attired Gabinian wise:  
The Vestal Maids with their veiled Sister come,  
That only may see Troy's Palladium:  
Then those that sibyl's secret verses keep,  
And Cybell yearly in still Almon steep:  
Septemuir● that govern sacred Feasts;  
The learned Augurs, and Apollo's Priests:  
The noble Flame●, Salius that bears  
On his glad neck the target of great Mars.  
Whilst they the town compass in winding tracts,  
Aruns the Lightnings dispersed fire collects,  
And into th' ea●tn with a sad murmur flings:  
Then names the places, and to th' altar brings  
A chosen Bull: then wine betwixt his horns  
He ●owres, and sprinkles over with Salt and Corn  
His knife: the Bull impatient long denies  
Himself to so abhorred a Sacrifice.  
But by the guirded Sacrificers strength  
Hanging upon his horns, over come at length  
Bending his knees holds forth his conquered neck;  
Nor did pure blood come out, but poison black  
Instead of blood, from the wound opened flies  
Aruns grew pale at this sad Sacrifice,  
And the gods wrath he in the Entrails seeks,  
Whose colour scared him: pale they were with streaks  
Of black th'infected blood congealed shows  
(Sprinkled with different paleness) various.  
The liver putrifi'de, on th'hostile side  
Were threatening veins: the lungs their fillets hide:  
A narrow line divides the vital parts:  
The heart lies still, and corrupt matter starts  
Through gaping clefts: no part oth'cause is hid:  
And that which never without danger did  
Appear, on th'entrails was a double head,  
One head was sick, feeble, and languished:  
The other quick his pulses nimbly beats.  
By this when he perceived what woe the Fates  
Prepared, he cried aloud, all that you do  
O gods, I must not to the People show:  
Nor with this hapless sacrifice can I  
Great jupiter thy anger pacify:  
The black infernal deities appear  
In th'entrails: woes unspeakable we fear,  
But greater will ensue: you gods lend ayd●,  
And let no credit to our Art be had,  
But counted Tages fiction: thus with long  
Ambages darkly the old Tuscan sung.  
But Figul●●, whose care it was aright  
To know the gods and heavens: to whom for sight  
Of planets, and the motion of each star,  
Not great Egyptian Memphis might compare,  
Either no laws direct the world, quoth he,  
And all the stars do move uncertainly;  
Or if Fates rule, a swift destruction  
Threatens mankind, and th'earth; shall Cities down  
By earthquakes swallow'de be? intemperately  
Shall air grow hot? false earth her seeds deny?  
Or shall the waters poyson'de be? what kind  
Of ruin is it, gods, what mischiefs find  
Your cruelties? many dire aspects meet,  
If Saturn cold in midst of heaven should si●  
Aquarius would Deucatious flood have bred  
And all the earth with waters overspred;  
If Sol should mount the Nemean Lions back,  
In flames would all the world's whole fabric crack,  
And all the sky with Sol's burnt chariot blaze.  
These aspects ce●se; but thou that burnest the claws,  
And firest the tail of threatening Scorpion,  
What great thing breed'st thou Mars? mild jove goes down  
Oppressed in his fall, and in the skies  
The wholesome star of Venus dulled is;  
Mercury loses his swift motion,  
And fiery Mars rules in the sky alone  
Why do the stars their course forsaking, glide  
Obscurely through the air? why does the side  
Of sword-bearing Orion shine too bright?  
Wars rage is threatened, the sword's power all right  
Confounds by force: impiety shall bear  
The name ●f Virtue, and for many a year  
This fury lasts; it boots us not to crave  
A peace with peace a master we shall have.  
Draw out the series of thy misery,  
O Rome, to longer years, now only free  
From civil war. These prodigies did scare  
The multitude enough: but greater far  
Ensue; as on the top of Pindus mount  
The Thracian women full of Bacchus' wont  
To rave; so now a matron ran possessed,  
By Phoebus' urging her inspired breast.  
Where am I carried now? where leav'st thou me,  
Paean, already rapt above the Sky?  
Pangaea's snowy top, Ph●lippi plains  
I see: speak, Phoebus, what this fury means:  
What swords, what hands shall in Rome's battles meet,  
What wars without a foe? oh whither yet  
Am I distracted? to that Eastern land,  
Where Nile discolours the blue Ocean:  
There, there alas I know what man it is,  
That on Nile's bank a trunk deformed lies.  
over Syrteses sands, o'er scorched Libya,  
Whether the relics of Pharsalia  
Erinys carried o'er th' Alpes cloudy hill,  
And high Pyrene am I c●rried still.  
Then back again to Rome, where impious▪  
And fatal war defiles the Senate house.  
The Factions rise again; again I go  
over all the world; show me new Kingdoms now,  
New Seas; Philippi I have seen; this spoke  
The furious fit her wearied breast forsook.  
FINIS Libri primi.   

Annotations on the first Book:  
(a) Roman Darts or javelins which their footmen used, about five foot long. If any man quarrel at the word Pile, as thinking it scarce English, I desire them to give a better word. For, Dart or javelin is a wood too general, and cannot intimate a civil war: for darts had fought against darts, though a Roman Army had fought against barbarous, and foreign Nations. But Pilum was a peculiar name to the Roman darts, and so meant by Lucan, which if any deny, let him read these Verses in the seventh book of our Author▪ 
— sceleris sed ●r●mine nullo  
Externam maculant Chalybem, stetit omne coactum  
Circa pila nefas.—   
(b) Marcus Crassus a great, and rich Roman, ruling the Province of Syria, went with a Consular Army to the Parthian war, and was there defeated, and slain, together with his Son, and his whole Army, by Surena the King's General.  
(c) Near Munda a City in Spain, the two Sons of Pompey were overcome by julius Caesar. C●eius was slain, and Sextus fled, thirty thousand Pompeians were there slain: insomuch that Caesar to besiege the conquered, made a countermure of dead carcases.  
(d) Anton●us besieged D. Brutus in Mutina a city of Gallia Cisalp●na: in raising which siege, both the Consuls, Hircius and Pansa were slain: but Augustus afterward raised it.  
(e) Perusia a city in Thuscia, whither Lucias Antonius had fled, was by Augustus forced to yeed through Famine.  
(f) Where Augustus in a Sea-fight vanquished Antonius and Cleopatra.  
(g) A fight on the Sicilian Sea, where Sextus Pompeius had armed Slaves and bondmen against Augustus, by whom he was there defeated  
(h) These three were Crassus, Caesar, and Pompey; who all excelling in wealth, dignity, fame, and ambition, reconciled to each other, and linked together in affinity, entered into such a league, that nothing should be done in the Common wealth, that displeased themselves, dividing among themselves, Provinces, and Armies. Pompey by his Lieutenants governed Spain and Africa, Caesar had his government over all Gallia prorogued for another five years; Crassus governed all Syria  
ay julia a virtuous Roman Lady daughter to Caesar, and wife to Pompey the great; who died untimely for the Commonwealth, since her life might have preserved peace between her husband and her father.  
(k) Beside Rubicon was a pillar raised up, and upon it a decree of the Senate engraven, that it should not be lawful for any to come armed homeward beyond that place.  
(l) Quintus Cassius and Marcus Antonius Tribunes of the people, for speaking boldly in the behalf of Caesar, were commanded out of the Court by the two Consuls, Marcellus and Lentulus, who upbraided them with the sedition of the Gracchis, and threatened the same end to them unless they departed; the Tribunes escaping out of the City by night, in poor and base attire, fled to Caesar, and with them Curio.  
(m) This Curio had lately been Tribune of the people, and a great enemy to Caesar; he was beloved by the vulgar, and an excellent speaker; but being much in debt, Caesar relieved him, and made him of his Faction.  
(n) The lawful age to triumphin, was thirty yeares-old; but Pompey the great had triumphed over Hiarbas King of Numidia, when he was but four and twenty years old.  
(o) The Praetorship Pompey, without voices, took to himself, being twenty three years old, he was Consul alone, and had held other Honour's contrary to custom.  
(p) Pompey the great, that he might beech ●sen at Rome overseer for Corn, took a course that none should be brought in from other parts, insomuch as that the City endured famine: upon which Clodius could say, The law was not made for the Famine, but a Famine was brought in of purpose, that such a Law might be made.  
(q) When Milo was arraigned for Clodius death, Pompey to suppress the tumult of the people, environed the judgement place with armed men, a thing unlawful to do.  
(r) Sylla 60. years old gave over his Dictatorshippe, and lived privately at Putcoli.  
(s) Mithridates King of Pontus warred with the Romans forty years; he was weakened, and received overthrows from Sylla and Lucullus, and conquered by Pompey, being besieged in a town by his son Pharnaces, he could not poison himself, having much used Antidotes, but fell upon his sword, and died.  
(t) Pompey the great had made a Colony of Cicilian pirates, whom he had vanquished.  
(v) Lac the Lorange; those several towns and Countries of France, where Caesar's Army lay in Garrison, and from whence they were now drawn, are here set down by their old ●amos; and this little volume will not afford room so far to enlarge my Annotations, as to set down the names as they are now called, being all changed.  
(x) The most fierce people of the Belgians, where T●turius Sabinus, and Arunculus Cotta, two of Caesar's Lieutenants, with five Cohorts were entrapped, and slain by fraud of Ambiotix.   

LUCAN'S Pharsalia. The Second Book.  
The Argument of the second Book.  
Th' author complains that future fates are known,  
The sorrow of affrighted Rome is shown.  
An old man calls to mind the civil crimes  
Of Marius, and Syla's bloody times.  
Brutu● with Cato does confer; to whom  
chaste Martia come from dead Hortensius' Tomb  
Again is married in a funeral dress.  
Pompey to Capua flies. What Fortresses  
By Caesar are surprised; who without fight,  
Puts Sylla, Scipio, Lentulus to flight,  
And takes Domitius at Corfinium.  
Pompey's Oration. From Brundisium  
He sends his eldest Son to bring from far  
The Eastern Monarches to this civil War.  
But there besieged by Caesar scarce can he  
Escape safe away by night's obscurity.  
NOw the gods wrath was seen: plain signs of war  
The world had given: forespeaking nature far  
From her true course, tumultuous monsters made,  
Proclaiming woe, Oh jove, why dost thou add  
This care to wretched men, to let them see,  
By direpo●tents their following misery?  
Whether the world's Creator when he did  
From the dark formless Chaos light divide,  
Established eternal Laws, to which he tied  
The creatures, and himself, and did divide  
The worlds set ages by unchanged fate:  
Or whither (nothing preordained) the state  
Of mortal things chance rules: yet let that be  
Secret that thou intend'st: let no eye see  
His future Fate, but hope as well as fear.  
When the sad City had conceived how dear  
Heaven's truth would cost the world: her general woe,  
Proclaim'de a Fast: the mourning Senate go  
Like the Plebeians clad: the Consuls beware  
No purple Robes: no words their grief declare:  
Mute is their sorrow; such a silent woe  
A dying man's amazed household show,  
Before his funeral conclamation,  
Before the mother's lamentation  
Call on the servant's weeping; but when she  
Feels his stiff limbs, dead looks, and standing eye,  
Then 'tis no fear but grief: down she doth fall,  
Howling upon him. So Rome's Matrons all  
Leave off their habits, and attires of grace,  
And in sad troops the Altars do embrace.  
One weeps before the gods; one he● torn locks  
Throws in the sacred porch: another knocks  
Her breast against the ground: the god, whose ears  
Were vide to p●ayers, now only howling hairs:  
Nor to Jove's temple did they all repair:  
They part the gods: no altar wants his share  
Of envy-making mothers: but one there  
Her pl●int-brusde arms, & moistened cheeks did tear  
Now, now, quoth she, oh mothers tear your hair,  
Now beat your breasts; do not this grief defer  
Till the last ills: while the Cheifes doubtful are;  
We may lament: when one is conqueror,  
We must rejoice; thus grief itself did move.  
Such just complaints against the powers above  
The Soldiers make, that to each army turn:  
Oh miserable men, that were not borne  
When Carthage warr'de, at Trebia's overthrow,  
Or Cannae's mortal field; nor beg we now  
For peace, oh gods; stir each fierce Nation,  
Raise mighty Cities: let the world in one  
Conspire: let Median powers from Susa come,  
Nor let cold Ister hold his Scythians from  
This war: the Suevians from the Northern clime  
Let Albis send, and the rude head of Rhine:  
Make us all people's foes, so not our own:  
Here let the Daci, there the Geteses come on:  
Let one his forces against Spain employ;  
'Gainst th'eastern bows let tother's Eagles fly:  
Let Rome have war with all; or if our names  
You gods would ruin, let the sky to flames  
Dissolved fall down, and quite consume our coasts;  
Or thunder strike both Captains with their hosts  
While they be guiltless, jove; seek they to try  
With so much mischief who Rome's Lord shall be?  
'Twere scarce worth civil war that none should reign;  
Thus then did bootless piety complain.  
But the old men moved with particular grief  
Curse their old age, and ill prolonged life,  
Their years reserved again to civil war:  
(a) One seeking precedents for their great fear;  
Such woes, quoth he, the gods intended us,  
When after (b) both his triumphs, Marius  
His flying head among the reeds and sedge  
Once hid; the Fens then covered Fortune's pledge●  
But taken he endured a prison's stinch,  
And his old limbs did iron shackles pinch.  
To dye a Consul, happy, and in Rome  
Before (c) hand suffered be for guilt to come,  
Death fled him oft, and power to shed his blood  
In vain a Cimbrian. (d) had, who trembling stood:  
Offering a stroke, his faltering hand the sword  
Let fall; his dungeon did strange light afford.  
Th' affrighted Cimbrian furies seemed to see,  
And heard what Marius afterward should be:  
Thou canst not touch this life to fate he owes  
Thousands of lives, ere he his own can lose:  
Cease thy vain fury: if you Cimbrians would  
Revenge on Rome your slaughtered Nations blood,  
Save this old man, whom their stern will to serve  
Not the god's love, but anger did preserve:  
A cruel and fit man, when Fate contrived  
Rome's ruin: he on Libyan coasts arrived  
Wandered through empty cottages upon  
Triumphed Iugurth's spoiled dominion,  
And Punic ashes trod: each others state  
Carthage (e) and Marius there commiserate,  
And both cast down, both now the gods excused:  
But into Marius' mind that air infused  
A Libyan rage; when Fortune turned again,  
Slaves from (f) their Lords, & prisoners from the chain  
He free'de, and arm'de: no man his Ensigns bore,  
But who the badge of some known mi●chief● wore,  
And brought guilt to the camp: oh Fates how sad  
A day was that, when conquering Marius had  
Surpris'de the walls? how swift flew cruel death?  
Senators with Plebeians lost their breath.  
The sword raged vncontrol'de: no breast was free:  
The temples stained with blood, and slippery  
Were the red stones with slaughter, no age than  
Was free, the near spent time of aged men  
They hasten'de on; nor shamed with bloody knife  
To cut the Infants new span thread of life.  
What crime had lnfants done to merit death?  
But 'twas enough that they could lose their breath.  
Fury directs them, guilty lives to take  
A lone, seemed too remiss; for number sake  
Some fall; one cut ' off heads he does not know,  
Whilst empty-handed he's a shamed to go.  
No hope to scape, but kiss the bloodstained (g) hand  
Of Marius; though a thousand swords did stand  
Ready, base People, did you not disdain  
At such a price a life, though long, to gain,  
Much less a time so short, so troublesome,  
And breath but respited till Sylla come?  
Who now has time to wail Plebejan fates?  
Scarce can we thine, brave Babim, (h) whom the hates  
Of the fierce multitude in pieces tore:  
Nor thine Antonius (ay) that thy death before  
Couldst prophesy, whose gray-head bleeding yet  
On Marius' table the rude Soldier set.  
Torn are the headless Crassis, (k) impious wood  
Is stained with sacred tribunitial (l) blood.  
Thou Scavola (m) that didst a kiss disdain  
Of Marius' hand, at Vesta's Altar slain,  
And never quenched fires; but age's drought  
Left thee not so much blood; as would put cut  
The flame. His seventh (n) Consulship now come,  
Old Marius dies: a man, that had o'ercome  
Fortune's worst hate, and her best love enjoy'de,  
And tasted all that Fates for man provide.  
How many near the Colline port were killed,  
How many Carcases on heaps were piled  
At Sacriportum? (o) where almost her seat  
Had the world's E●pire changed, and S●mnis yet  
Hoped deeper far to wound the Roman name,  
Then at the Caudine (p) Forks; then Sylla came  
With a revenge more bloody: His sword reft  
Rome of that little blood before was left,  
Whilst cutting off (cruel Chirurgeon)  
Th' affected parts, too far his lancing hand  
Follows the sore; first guilty men are slain,  
At last when none but guilty could remain  
Their hates take greater freedom; forth they break  
Without the curb of any law; they wreak  
Their private angers now: for Sylla's sake  
All is not done: for every one fulfils  
Their own blood thirsty, and revengeful wills  
Pretending his command; with impious steel  
Servants their masters, sons their fathers kill;  
Which son shall be the parricide by strife  
They seek: a brother sells a brother's life.  
Some hide themselves in tombs: live men remain  
Among the dead: beasts dens can scarce contain  
The flying multitude; one strangled dyes  
By his own hand; one from a precipice  
Dies broken with the fall, preventing so  
The tyranny of his insulting foe.  
His funeral pile one making, ere he dies  
Leaps in, and whilst he may, those rites enjoys.  
Great Captains heads born through the streets on spears  
Are piled up in the Market; there appears  
Each secret murder; not so many heads  
In stables of the tyrant Diomed's  
Thrace saw; nor Lybia on Antaeus' wall,  
Nor mourning Greece in Oenomaus hall.  
Limbs putrifi'de, which all known marks had left  
Worn out by eating time, by fearful theft  
The wretched parents take, and bear away:  
Myself (I still remember that sad day)  
Desirous those forbidden rites to do  
To my slain brother's head, searched to and fro  
The carcases of Sylla's peace, to see  
What trunk 'mongst all, would with that head agree.  
What need I tell how Catulus was paid  
With blood, how Marius a sad offering made  
And wretched sacrifice before the tomb  
Of his perchance unwilling foe did come.  
His (q) mangled joints, as many wounds as limbs  
We saw: yet no wound deadly given him  
Through his spoiled body, an example rare  
Of cruelty, a dying life to spare.  
His hands chopped off, his tongue cut out as yet  
Wagg'de, and the air did with dumb motions beat:  
One slits his nostrils, one cuts off his ears;  
His eyes out last of all another tears,  
Left in till than his mangled limbs to see,  
A thing past credit, one poor man should be  
The subject of so many cruelties.  
A lump deformed his mangled body lies  
So strangely slaughtered, not disfigur'de more  
Floats a torn shipwrecked carcase to the shore  
From the mid-Sea. The fruit of all your toil  
Why do you lose, and Marius face so spoil,  
That none can now discern him; 'twere more need  
Silla should know him to applaud the deed.  
(r) Praneste's fortune saw her men all die  
In one death's space, the flower of (s) Italy,  
The only youth of Latium sadly slain  
Did wretched Rome's Ovilia distain.  
So m●ny men to cruel death at once  
Oft Earthquakes, Shipwrecks, or infections  
Of Air or Earth, Famine, or War hath sent:  
Never before a doom of punishment  
The soldiers throng'de could scarcely wield at all  
Their kill hands, the slain could hardly fall  
Supported so; but number did oppress  
The dying people, and dead carcases  
Increased the slaughter, falling heavily  
On living bodies; his strange cruelty  
Secure and fearless Sylla from above  
Beheld▪ nor could so many thousands move  
His heart, by him commanded all to dye.  
I' th' Tyrthene gulf their piled up bodies lie.  
The first thrown in under the water lay,  
The last on bodies; strongest ships they stay,  
And Tiber parted by that fatal bay  
Sends one part to the Sea; carcases stay  
The other; till the violent stream of blood  
Enforced the water's course to Tiber's flood.  
Nor can the banks the River now contain▪  
But o'er the fields the bodies float again  
Rolling at last into the Tyrrhene maine,  
On the blue waves it sets a purple stain.  
For this did Silla merit to be stil'de  
Happy, and (t) saviour, and in Mars his field  
To be interr'de? but these black mischiefs are  
To be endured again; this cruel war  
Will the same order, and conclusion take,  
But fears more horrid suppositions make,  
And in this war mankind shall suffer more.  
The exiled Maris sought but to restore  
Themselves again; and Sylla's victories  
Sought but the ruin of his enemies.  
Their aims are higher; both long powerful take  
up arms; and neither civil war would make  
To do as Sylla did. Thus wails old age,  
Remembering past, and fearing future rage.  
This terror struck not noble Brutus heart,  
Nor in this frightful stir was he a part  
Of the lamenters; but at midnight he  
(When now her wain Parrhasian Helice  
Turned) at his uncle Cato's no large house  
Knocks; him he finds waking and anxious,  
For Rome, and the whole State a fearful man,  
Not for himself; when Brutus thus began.  
Banished, and flying virtue's only hold,  
And refuge, which no storm of fortune could  
Ere reave thee off? guide thou this wavering heart,  
And to my thoughts a certain strength impart  
At Caesar's side, or Pompeye's others stand,  
Ore Brutus none but Cato shall command.  
Wilt thou keep peace, and in this doubtful age  
Unshaken stand? or mingling with the rage  
Of the mad rout, this civil war approve?  
Others to this sad war bad causes move:  
One his stained house in peace, and fear of Laws,  
Another fights for want, mingling that cause  
With the world's wrack; blind fury leads on none▪  
All drawn with gainful hopes; but thee alone  
The war itself affects▪ What boots it thee  
T'have been so long from the times vices free?  
This only meed of thy long virtue take,  
The wars find others guilty, thee they make.  
But let not wicked war have power t' employ  
These hands, O gods, let not thy lavelin fly  
'Mongst others in a thick sky darkening cloud:  
Let not such virtue be in vain bestowed.  
The wars whole chance will cast itself on thee.  
Who would not dye upon that sword, and be  
Cato's offence, though slain by another hand?  
Thou mightst alone, and quiet better stand,  
As stars in heaven still unshaken are,  
When lightnings, storms and tempest rend the air,  
Nearer to earth: Winds rage, and Thunder's spite▪  
Plain grounds must suffer; when Olympus height  
Placed by the gods above the clouds, ●s free;  
Small things jars vex, the great ones quiet be▪  
'Twill glad proud Caesar, in this war, to hear  
So great a Citizen has deign'de t'appear:  
Nor will it grieve him that great Pompeye's side  
Is chose, not his; 'twill be enough his pride  
That Cato has approved of civil war.  
Rome's Senate, and both Consuls armed are  
Under a private man, and many more  
Of note and worth, to these add Cato too  
Under command of Pompey, none lives free  
In all the world but Caesar; but if we  
Do for our countries, Laws, and freedom go  
To war; then Brutu● is not caesars foe,  
Nor Pompey's, but the Conquerors, who ere:  
Thus Brutus spoke; when for an inside clear  
These sacred words drew Cato; We confess,  
Brutus, that civil war's great wickedness:  
But where the Fates will lead, virtue shall go  
Securely on; to make me guilty now  
Shall be the gods own crime, who would endure  
To see the world dissolve, himself secure?  
Who could look on, when heaven should fall, earth fail,  
And the confused world perish, and not wail?  
Shall unknown Nations in our Roman war  
Engage themselves? and foreign Kings from far  
Crossing the Seas? and shall I rest alone?  
far be it, gods, the Daci, and Geteses should moon  
Their losses in Rome's fall, and Cato lie  
Secure: as parents, when their children die,  
In person mourn, build up with their own hands  
The funeral pile, and light the fatal brands;  
I will not leave thee, Rome, till I embrace  
Thy hearse, and liberty, thy dying face,  
And fleeting Ghost with honour do attend.  
So let it go; let th' angry gods intent  
A complete Roman sacrifice; no bloods  
Will we defraud the war of; would the gods  
Of heaven, and Ereb●● would now strike dead  
For all our crimes this one condemned head.  
Devoted Decius by his foes could fall:  
Me let both Roman hosts assault, and all  
Rhines barbarous troops; let me i'th' midst receive  
All darts, all wounds, that this sad war can give.  
Let me redeem the people: let my Fate  
What ere Rome's manners merit, expiate,  
Why should the easily conquered people die,  
That can endure a Lord? Strike only me,  
Me with all swords, and Piles, that all in vain  
Our wronged laws, and liberties maintain:  
This throat shall peace to Italy obtain.  
After my death he that desires to reign,  
Need not make war: but now let's follow all  
The common Ensigns, Pompey general.  
Though he o'ercome, 'tis not yet known that he  
Means to himself the world's sole Monarchy.  
I'll help him conquer, lest he should suppose  
He conquers for himself. From this arose  
Young Brutus' courage: this grave speech too far  
Made the young man in love with civil war.  
Now Phoebus driving the cold dark away,  
They heard a noise at door; (v) chaste Martiae  
Come from Hortensius' tomb, stood knocking there:  
Once given a Maid in marriage happier:  
But when the fruit, and price of wedlock she  
Three births had paid: another Family  
To fill, was fruitful Martia lent a Bridle,  
To join two houses by the Mother's side.  
Now w●en Hortensius' ashes vined rest,  
She in her funeral robes, beating her breast  
With often strokes and tearing her loose hair,  
Sprinkled with ashes from the Sepulchre,  
To please sour Cato, with a gesture sad  
Thus speaks: Whilst blood, & childing strength I had,  
Cato, I did thy will, two husbands took:  
Now worn away, and with oft travel ●roke  
I come, no more to part: grant now our old  
Wedlock's untasted rites: grant me to hold  
The empty name of wife, and on my Tomb  
Write Cato's Martia, lest in time to come  
It may be ask'de whether I left the bed  
Of my first Lord bestowed or banished.  
Nor c●me I now prosperity to share,  
But to partake thy labours, and sad care.  
Let me attend the Camp; leave me not here  
In peace, Cornelia to the war so near.  
These speeches moved the man; though these times are  
Unfit for Hymen, when Fate calls to war,  
Without vain pomp to tie a nuptial knot  
In the god's presence, he refuses not.  
No garlands on the marriage doors were worn▪  
Nor linen fillets did the posts adorn:  
No bridal Tapers shone: no bed on high  
With Ivory steps, and gold embroidery:  
No Matron in a towered crown, that led  
The Bride, forbid her on the threshold tread:  
No yellow veil covered her face, to hide  
The fearful blushes of a modest Bride:  
No precious girdle guirded her loose Gown:  
No Chain adorned her neck; nor lin●en down  
From off her shoulders her nak'de arms o'erspread;  
So as she was, funeral habited,  
Even like her Sons, her Husband she embrac'de,  
A funeral robe above her purple placed.  
The usual jests were spared: the husband wants,  
After the Sabine use, his marriage tants.  
None of their kindred met; the knot they tie  
Silent: content with Brutus auspicy.  
His o'ergrown hair he from that sacred face  
Shaves not, nor will in his sad looks embrace  
One joy (since first that wicked war begun  
He lets his unshorn hoary locks fall down  
o'er his rough front, and a sad beard to hide  
His cheeks▪ for he alone from factions freed,  
Or hate, had leisure for mankind to weep)  
Nor in his bridal bed would Cato sleep,  
Even lawful love could continence reject.  
These were his manners, this sour Cato's sect,  
To keep a mean, hold fast the end, and make  
Nature his guide, die for his Country's sake.  
For all the world, not him, his life was lent  
He thinks; his feasts but hunger's banishment;  
His choicest buildings were but fence for cold:  
His best attire rough gowns, such as of old  
Was Roman wear; and nothing but desire  
Of progeny in him warmed Venus' sire:  
Father, and husband both to Rome was he,  
Servant to justice, and strict honesty:  
For th'public good, in none of Cato's acts  
Creeps self borne pleasure, or her share exacts  
Now with his fearful troops Pompey the great  
To Trojan Capua fled, meant there to seat  
The war: his scattered strength there to unite,  
And his aspiring foes assaults to meet.  
Where Apennine raised somewhat higher fills  
The midst of Italy with shady hills?  
Then which no part of earth does swell more high  
In any place, nor nearer meets the sky.  
The mountain 'twixt two seas extended stands  
Th'upper, and lower sea: on the right hand  
Is Pisae seated on the Tyrrhene shore:  
Ancona on the left vexed evermore  
With storms and winds that from Dalmatia blow.  
here from vast fountains do great rivers flow,  
And into th'double seas divorce do slide  
In several channels; down on the left side  
Metaurus swift, and strong Crustumium flow,  
Isapis joined t'Isaurus, Sonna too  
And Aufidus the Adriaticke beats:  
Eridanus, than which no river gets  
More ground; whole forests rowles into the sea  
O'erturned: and robs of rivers Italy.  
They say that Poplars on this river's side  
First grew, when Phaeton amiss did guide  
The day; his wand'ring Chariot burned the sky,  
And scorched the earth: all rivers than were dry  
But this; whose streams did Phoebus' fires withstand,  
Not less than Nile, if on plain Libyan sand  
It flowed like Nile: not less than Ister 'twere,  
Unless that Ister running every where  
The streams that fall into all seas, does meet,  
And not alone the Scythian Ocean greet  
From springs, that down the hills right side do flow;  
Rutuba, Tiber, swift Vulturnus grow:  
Night-ayre infecting Sarnus, Liris too  
Runs, strengthened by the Vestine rivers, through  
Maricars' woody lands: Siler that glides  
Through Salerne's fields; Macra whose Ford abides  
No ships, into the sea near Luna fall.  
The hill (where he in length extended all  
Meeting the b●nding Alpes France oversees)  
Tot● ' Vmbrians, Marsians, and Sabellians is  
Fertile, and does with woody arms embrace  
The people of the ancient Latin race:  
Nor leaves he Italy, before he end  
In the Scyllaean caverns, and extend  
Unto Lacinian Juno's house his hill.  
Longer he was then Italy, until  
The s●a divided him, and water forced  
The land; then when two meeting seas divorced  
What was conjoined, part of the hill the sea  
Gave to Pelorus in Sicilia.  
Caesar now mad of war loves not to find,  
But make his way by blood, nor is his mind  
Joyed that in Italy he sees no foes,  
No Countries guarded from him, meets no blows:  
But counts his journey lost; desires to break  
Not open gates, and loves his march to make  
By fire and sword, not sufferance; thinks it shame  
To tread permitted paths, and bear the name  
Of Citizen The Italian Cities are  
Doubtful which way to lean; and though when war  
Makes her first feared approach, all easily  
Will yield: with Bulwarks yet they fortify  
Their walls, dig trenches round about below:  
Vast stones and weapons from above to throw  
They get, and engines on their walls provide.  
The People most incline to Pompey's side:  
But faith with terror fights: so when we see  
The Southwindes horrid blasts possess the sea.  
The waves all follow him, till by the stroke  
Of Aeolu● his Sp●are, the opened Rock  
To the rough seas lets out the Fasterne wind:  
They still retain, though new assaults they find,  
The old, though th'Eastwind th'air with dark storms fill,  
The Ocean d●es the Southwind challenge still.  
But people's minds fear changes easily,  
And Fortune sways their wavering loyalty.  
By Libo's flight Etruria's naked left,  
And Vmbria, Thermus (y) gone, of freedom rest:  
Sylla far differing from his father's fame  
In civil war, flies hearing Caesar's name.  
Varus, (z) before the first assault forsakes  
Auximum's walls, and flight disordered takes  
o'er rocks and deserts: Le●tuius (a) is beat  
From As●ulum: the foes pursuing get  
His men; that now alone the Captain flies  
With empty Standards rest of Companies.  
Thou Scipio, (b) leav'st the trust committed thee  
Luceria's Fort, though in thy Camp there be  
The valiantest Youth, whom fear of Parthian war  
From Caesar took, whom Pompey to repair  
His French loss, lent him; and while he thought good  
Bestowed on Caesar th'use of Roman blood.  
But fair Corfinium's well fenced walls contain  
Thee, slout Domitius: (c) in thy Camp remain,  
Those that arraigned Milo did enclose.  
He when a cloud of dust from far arose,  
And on bright Arms the Sun reflecting shone,  
And glittering swords, cries, run my Soldiers, run  
down to the river, drown the bridge, and thou  
Increased from all thy emptied fountains now  
Rise swelling stream: break down and beat away  
This scattered bridge: there let the war now stay:  
Let thy banks make our furious enemy  
Linger a while: we'll count it victory  
That Caesar first stays here. This said, in vain  
He sends swift Cohorts from the town amain.  
For Caesar first, when from the fields he spied.  
His passage lost by bridge, enraged cried,  
Cannot your walls, base cowards, shelter you  
Enough, but that the fields and rivers too  
Must help? I'll pass, through Ganges in my way  
Rolled all his strength: no stream shall Caesar stay  
Since Rubicon is passed; go winged Horse,  
Second bold foot, the bridge now falling force.  
Thus spoke he: forth the winged Horsemen ride,  
And like a storm of Hail on other side  
The water, their well brandished javelins light:  
Caesar then takes the river, puts to flight  
The Soldiers all that were in station  
To guard the bank, and safe before the town  
Is come: when strait up lofty works are thrown,  
And Engines raised the walls to batter down.  
When lo (oh shame of war) opening the gate  
The Soldiers brought their Captain bound, and at  
The feet of his proud Foe present: but he  
With looks not shaming high Nobility  
Offers his throat undaunted: Caesar sees  
Death's sought▪ and mercy feared, then thus replies,  
Live, though thou wouldst not, by our bounty live,  
Enjoy this light, and to the conquered give  
Good hope: th' example of our clemency  
Be thou: or else again wars fortunes try:  
Naught for this pardon Caesar from thy hands  
Expects, if thou o'ercome: with that commands  
T'vnbinde him: had his death the Conqueror pleased▪  
How much a Romans blush had fortune eased.  
For following Rome's, the Senates, Pompey's arms,  
Pardon t' a Roman was the worst of harms.  
He yet unfeared, his anger doth retain,  
Speaks thus t'himselfe: Wilt thou, base man, again  
See Rome, or seek peaceful retirements? No,  
Rather into war's fury dying go,  
Rush boldly through the midst, sure end to make,  
Of this loath'de life, and Caesar's gift forsake.  
Pompey, not knowing he was ta'en, provides  
Forces, to strengthen with joined power his side;  
Meaning his Camp next morning to remove,  
The Soldier's spirits before their march to prove,  
He thus with a majestic voice bespoke  
His silent troops; guilt-punishers, that take  
The better side, you truly Roman band,  
Arm'de by the State, no private man's command,  
Fear not to fight: Italy's wasted all  
By barbarous troops: through the cold Alpes the Gaul  
Is broken loose: blood has already died  
Caesar's polluted swords: the gods provide  
Well that the mischief there begins, and we  
First suffer wrong; oh n●w let Rome by me  
Take punishment: nor can you call it here  
True war, but over revenging countrye's ire:  
Nor is this more a war, then that wherein  
Nak'de-arm'de Cethegus, and fierce Catiline  
Meant to fire Rome, Lentulus, and their mates▪  
Oh madness to be pitied▪ when the Fates  
Would with Camillus, and Metellus join  
Thee Caesar, thou to Marius shouldst incline,  
And Ci●●a; fall thou shalt, as Lepidus  
Fell under Gatulus, Carbe by us  
Beneaded then, that in Sicilia lies,  
And he that made the Spaniards fierce to rise  
Banished Se●to●i●●: though I grudge with those  
Thou Caesar should be placed: and Rome oppose  
My arms 'gainst thee Would from the Parthian war  
Crassus had safe returned, and conqueror:  
That thou in such a cause as Spartacus  
Mightst fall: but if the gods intent to us  
Thou shalt one title add: this arm a dart  
Can ably brandish yet: about this heart  
The blood is hot; know then not all that love  
To live in peace, in war will cowards prove:  
Nor let my age affright you, though he call  
Me worn, and weak: let an old General  
Be in this camp; in that old soldiers be.  
I have attained what ere a people free  
Can give, and nothing but Monarchy  
About me left: he that in Rome would be  
Greater than I, no private state demands.  
here both Rome's Consuls, here her Senate stands  
Shall Caesar then subdue the Senate? sure  
thouart not quite shameless fortune, to endure  
Things should so blindly turn Does rebel France  
So long a taming, and those warts advance  
His thoughts so high? because from Germany  
He fled; and calling a small stream a sea  
On the sought Britons turned his flying back?  
Or swells he cause all Rome, though armed, forsake  
The City, hearing his fierce troops are nigh?  
Ah fool they fly not thee, all follow me.  
My glorious Ensigns on the Ocean borne.  
Ere Cynthia twice had filled her waned horns,  
All Pirates fled the seas, and at my hand  
Humbly craved dwellings in a narrow Land.  
I that stout King, that stayed Rome's growth, did force  
Flying along the Scythian seas divorce,  
(Which Sylla ne'er could bring to pass) to dye  
By his own hand: no land from me is free:  
My Trophies all that Titan sees possess.  
Going from thence Ph●sis cold river sees  
Me conqueror in the North: in the hot Zone  
Known Egypt, and Syene, that at noon  
No shadow spreads: my laws the West obeys,  
Baetis, that meets the farthest Western seas▪  
Me tamed Arabia knows, th'Aenio he bold,  
And Colchos famed for her sto●ne fleece of gold  
The Cappadorians from my Colours fly,  
And Jews that serve an unknown Deity:  
Me soft Sophene fears, th' Armenians,  
Taurus, and the subdued Cilicians:  
What wars for him, but civil, do I leave?  
These words his soldiers with no shout receive,  
Nor are they eager of the fight: their fears.  
Great Pompey sees, and back his Standard bears,  
Loath in so great a war to venture men  
O'ercome with same of Caesar yet not seen.  
As a Bull beat in the first fight he tries,  
Through th'empty fields, and desert forests flies  
Exiled, and tries 'gainst every tree his horns,  
Nor till his strength be perfited, returns  
To pasture, then recovering his command,  
Maugure the Herdsman, leads them to what land  
He lift: so now as weakest, Italy  
Dooes Pompey leave, and through Apuli● fly,  
Himself immuring in Brundufirm's hold,  
A town by Cretan colonies of old  
Possessed, that in th' Athenian navy fled,  
When lying sails reported Theseus dead.  
Hence Italy's now straightened coast extends  
Herself in form of a thin tongue, and bends  
Her horns t'enclose the Adriaticke sea:  
Nor yet could these strait shut up waters be  
A haven, if high cliffs winds violence  
Did not restrain, and the tired waters fence  
On both sides, Nature, the winds tyranny  
To stop high cliffs opposes to the sea;  
That ships by trembling cables held may stand.  
Hence all the Main lies open, if to thy land  
We sail Corcyra, or our courses bend  
On the left hand, where Epidamnus tends  
To the Ionian; thither Sailors fly  
When th'Adrian's rough, and clouds obscure the high  
Ceraunian mountains, and with violent dash  
The foaming seas Portuguese Sason wash.  
When of forsaken Italy there was  
No hope at all, nor that the war could pass  
Into the Spanish coast, for 'twixt that land  
The lofty Alpes did interposed stand.  
Thus th'eldest of his noble progeny  
Pompey bespoke; the world's far Regions try  
Nile and Euphrates, wheresoever my name  
Is spread: and all the Cities where Rome's fame  
I have advanced; bring back unto the seas  
The now dispersed Cicilian colonies.  
The strength Pharnaces holds I charge thee bring:  
Arm my Tigranes, and th'Aegyptian King.  
Those that inhabit both Armenia's ore,  
And the fierce nation by the Euxine Shore:  
Riphaean bands, and those, where Scythian cars  
On his slow back congealed Maeotis bears.  
Why speak I more? through all the East my Son  
Carry this war; through every conquered town  
I'th' world: to us all triumphed regions join.  
But you, whose names the Latian feasts do sign,  
To Epire sail with the first North-east wind,  
Through Greece and Macedon new strength to find  
While winter gives us respite from the war.  
To his commands they all obedient are,  
And from th'Italian shore their anchors weigh,  
Caesar impatient of wars long delay,  
Or rest, lest changing fates might ought withstand,  
His flying Son in law pursues at hand.  
So many towns at first assault surpriz'de,  
And Forts disarmed others had suffic'de:  
Rome the world's head, wars greatest booty, left  
A prey; but Caesar in all actions swift,  
Thinking nought done, whilst aught undone remained,  
Fiercely pursues, and though he have obtain'de  
All Italy, and that great Pompey lives  
In th' utmost edge, that both are there, he grieves:  
Nor would he let his foes pass forth again  
By Sea, but seeks to stop the watery maine,  
And with vast hills dam up the Ocean:  
But this great labour is bestowed in vain:  
The Sea those mountain's swallows, mixing all  
With sands below; so if high Erix fall  
Into the midst of the Aegaean Sea,  
No land above the water seen can be;  
Or if the lofty Gaurus quite torn down  
Were to the bottom of Avernus thrown.  
But when no earth thrown in would firmly stand,  
Then with a bridge of fastened ships the Land  
He joins; each Galley do four anchors stay:  
Once o'er the Sea proud Xerxes such a way  
Made by report: when joined by bridge he saw  
Sestos t' Abydos, Europe t' Asia;  
And fearing not th'eastwind, nor west's affront  
Walked over the curled back of Hellespont,  
When ships their sails round about Athos spread;  
So now this Haven's mouth Ships straightened,  
On which their Bulwarks up apace they raise,  
And lofty towers stand trembling on the seas.  
When Pompey saw that a new land o'erspread  
The ocean's face: care in his breast is bred  
To open the sea, and carry forth the war.  
Filled sails, and stretching shrowds the Ships oft bare  
Against these works, breaking them down made room  
Into the Sea for other ships to come▪  
Oft well driven engines lightened the dark night  
With flying fires. When time for their stolen flight  
Was come: he warns his men, no Sailors noise  
Might on the shore be heard: nor trumpets voice  
Divide the hours: nor cornets sound at all  
The mariners should to their charges call.  
Now near her end Virgo began to be;  
And Libra follows his first day to see.  
The silent fleet departs: the anchors made  
No noise, when from thick sands their hooks are weighed  
Silent, while they the sayle-yard bow, and rear  
The mainmast up the fearful masters are:  
The Sailors softly spread their sails, nor dare  
Shake their strong shrowds within the whizzing air.  
The General makes his prayer, Fortune, to thee  
To give him leave t'abandon Italy,  
Since thou'lt not let him keep it; but alas  
The Fates will scarce grant that: the waters flash,  
And furrowed with so many keels at once  
The st●mme beat sea with a vast murmur groans.  
The foes let in by gates, and up the wall  
(Which faith by Fortune turned had opened all)  
Along the havens stagge-like Horns they run  
Swiftly to shore, grieved that the fleet was gone.  
Is Pompey's flight so small a victory?  
A straighter passage let him out to sea,  
Then where th'Eubaean channel Chaleis beats.  
Here stuck two ships, which fast the engine gets.  
In fight, and near the shore the skirmish tried:  
here first the Sea with civil blood was died.  
The Fleet escaped of those two ships bereft:  
So when Thessalia jasons' Argo left  
For Colchos bound, Cyanean Isles at sea  
Shot forth; the tayle-maimed Ship escaped away  
Amidst the rocks: in vain the Lands beat  
The empty sea: she comes a sailor yet▪  
Now that the Sun was near the Eastern sky  
Declared, palefaced before his rosy die:  
The Plejades grow dim: each nearer star  
Loses his light: Boötes lazy car  
Turns to the plain complexion of the skies,  
And Lucifer, the great stars darkened, flies  
From the hot day: and now wert thou at sea  
Pompey, not with such Fate, as when from thee  
The fearful Pirates through all seas retired:  
Fortune revolts with thy oft triumphs tired:  
Now with thy Country, Household gods, thy Son,  
And Wife, art thou a mighty exile gone.  
A place for thy sad death is sought afar,  
Not that the gods envy thee Sepulchre  
At home; but damned is Egypt to that crime,  
And Latium spared: that Fates in foreign clime  
May hide this mischief, and the Roman land  
Clear from the blood of her dear Pompey stand.  
FINIS Libri secundi.   

Annotations on the second Book:  
(a) An old man to express the present calamity, repeats the whole course of the civil war, between Mariu● and Sylla, as it follows in this discourse.  
(b) Marius had twice triumphed, once over jugurtha King of Numidia, and afterward over the Cimbrians and Teutones; but afterwards envying the honour of Sylla, to whose hands Bocchas King of Mauritania had delivered jugurtha, and endeavouring by the aid of Sulpitius Tribune of the People to hinder Sylla from his expedition against Mithridates' King of Pontus, bed incensed Sylla being then warring in Campania, so far, that Sylla brought his Army to Rome, and entering the City, subduing his adversaries, got them to be judged enemies by the Senate's decree, and banished the city; Marius escaping by flight, hid himself in the Fens near Minturna; but being there taken, he was put in a dungeon at Minturna.  
(c) Marius suffered before hand at Minturna for those cruelties, which he afterwards acted at Rome, when he returned, and was Consul the seventh time.  
(d) The executioner of Minturnae being a Cymbrian, entering the dark dungeon to kill Marius, saw fire sparkling, out of Marius his eyes, and heard a voice saying, darest then kill Carus Marius? at which the Cymbrian affrighted fled away, and the men of Minturnae moved with pity, and reverence of the man, that once had saved Italy, released C. Marius, and let him go  
(e) Marius escaped from Minturnae, took flight by obscure passages toward the Sea, and getting into a ship, a tempest arising, was cast upon the ●●anas c●lled Meninges, where he receiv●d some companions, and heard that his Son, with Cethegus were ●otten safe into Africa, to Hy●mpsall; he then said to the coast of Cartha●e, but being forbidden by the Lictor of Sextilius the Prator, to set foot in Africa; Give tell thy Praetor, quoth he, that thou hast seen Ca●us Marius sitting in the ruins of Carthage: not unfitly comparing the ruined estate of that great City to his own now decayed fortunes.  
(f) When Caius Cinna the Consul appealed to the people, for restering those banished men, whom the Senate at request of Sylla had judged enemies: a great contention arising, Cinna was expelled the City, by his colleague Cneius Octavius and flying, solicited the cities of Italy to war▪ he armed slaves and prisoners, and joining himself to Marius returning, they entered Rome in a fourfold army, Cinna, Marius, Carbo, Sert●rius, And tyrannised over their Adversaries.  
(g) Marius had given this token to his Soldiers, that they should kill all, whom he did not resolute, and offer his hand to kiss.  
(h) Baebius was torn in pieces by the Soldiers.  
ay Marcus Antonius an excellent Orator, that by his eloquence made the Murderers relent: at last his head being cut off, Anius the Tribune brought it to Marius, as he was at supper, who handling it a while, and scoffing at it, commanded it to be nailed to the Rostra.  
(k) Fimbria a cruel Soldier of Marius killed the two Crassis, Father and Son, in each others sight.  
(l) That place of the prison, from whence offenders used to he cast down headlong, was stained with the blood of Licinius the Tribune, whose Office was sacred.  
(m) Mucius Scaevola the high Priest, an old man, embracing the Altar of Vesta, was there slain  
(n) C. Marius entering his seventh Consulship, within thirteen days after died mad of a disease in his side, being 70. years old, having tasted the extremities of prosperity, and adversity.  
(o) At Sacriportum, not far from Praeneste, Sylla overcame Caius Marius the Son of old C. Marius, who fled to Praneste; Sylla sent Lucretius O●●lia to besieage him there; but Marius offering to escape through a Min● under ground, and being discovered there killed himself; Sylla than not ten furlongs from Porta Collina overthew Lamponius, and Telesinus, two Captains of the Samnites, who came to raise Ofellas siege. At these two places Sylla flew above seventy thousand men.  
(p) Marius had promised the Samnites, who had been of his party, that he would translate the seat of the Empire from Rome to them, who now conceived a hope of subiecting the Romans mere then once they did ad Furcas Caudina's where the Romans under the conduct of Titus Veturius, and Spurius Posthumius received a disgraceful overthrow.  
(q) Quintus Luctatius Catulus, which had been Colleague with C. Marius, and triumphed with him over the Cimbrians, hearing that Marius was determined to put him to death, entering his chamber, voluntarily choked himself. In revenge of which, his brother Catulus obtained of Sylla, that Marius the brother of C. Marius might he delivered into his hands, who sacrificed him at his brother's Tomb, and wounding his arms, thighs, and legs, he cut off his nose, and ears, cut out his tongue, and digged out his eyes, letting him so live awhile that he might die in pain of every limb.  
(r) Lucretius Offella by Sylla's command and having taken Praneste, had killed, or cast in Prison all the Senators, that he found there of Marius' faction: but Sylla coming thither, commanded five thousand and men of Praeneste, who in hope of mercy had cast away their arms, and prostrated themselves upon the ground, to be all slain.  
(f) Sylla commanded four whole Legions, which had been of his Enemy's side, among whom were many Samnites, to be all killed at one time in the field of Mars.  
(t) Sylla called himself Felix: he named his Son Faustus, and his Daughter Fausta; leaving his Dictatorship, he lived privately at Puteoli, where be died eaten with Lice, his Funerals were kept with great honour in the field of Mars.  
(v) Martia being a virgin was married to Cato, by whom she had three children; and then his friend Hortensius desiring to have her, and wanting children, Cato bestowed her upon him, being the● great with child: after Hortensius his death she returned thus to Cato.  
(x) Cornelia the daughter of Lucius Scipio, and widow of Publius Crassus, was married to Pompey after juliaes' death.  
(y) At the fame of Caesar's approach, the Governors through Italy all fled, not daring to withstand him, or maintain any Forts against him; many of those are here named: First Scribonius Libo leaves his charge at Hetruria, and Thermus forsakes Vmbria: Faustus Sylla, son to Sylla the Dictator, wanting his Father's spirit, and fortune in civil war, fled at the name of Caesar.  
(z) Atius Varus, when he perceived that the chief Citizens of Auximum favoured Caesar, took his Garrison from thence, and fled.  
(a) Lentulus Spinther with ten cohorts, kept the Town of Asculum who hearing of Caesar's coming, fled away, thinking to carry with him his cohorts, but was forsaken by most of his soldiers.  
(b) Lu. Scipio father in law to Pompey the great, fled from Luceria, although he had two strong Legions. Marcellus to diminish the strength of Caesar, counselled the Senate to make a decree, that Caesar should deliver one Legion, and Pompey another to Bibulus, whom they pretended to send to the Parthian war●e: Caesar according to the Senate's decree, delivered to him one Legion for himself, and another Legion which he had borrowed of Pompey for a present supply, after the great loss received by his two Praetors, Teturius, and Cotta. both these Legions Caesar delivered, and they were new in Scipio's camp.  
(c) Lu. Domitius Aenobarbus with twenty cohorts was in Corfinium: he had with him those soldiers of Pompey's who had enclosed the Forum, when Milo was arraigned for Clodius death. He sent five cohorts to break down the bridge of the River watch was three miles from the Town; but those cohorts meeting the forerunners of Caesar's army, were beaten back again.  
(d) Spartacus a Thracian Fencer fled with 70 companions of his, from Lentulus his games at Capua, and gathering slaves to his party, and arming them, made up an army of 70000 he overcame many Roman Prators, and Consuls; at last he was vanquished, and slain by Marcus Cr●ssus.  
(c) Caesar having wasted Germany with fire and sword, after eighteen days returned in o France, cutting down the Bridge behind him, that it should not be useful to the Germans; which Pompey detractingly calls a flight.   

LUCAN'S Pharsalia. The Third Book.  
The Argument.  
Fair Julia's Ghost a dream to Pompey shows.  
Curio for corn into ●icilia goes.  
To Rome comes Caes●r with unarmed Bands,  
Where though Metelius all in vain withstands,  
He robs the Treasury Each Nation's name  
That to the War in aid of Pompey came.  
Caesar thence hasts to Spain, and by the way  
Lays cruel siege to true Massilia,  
But stays not there himself: Brutus maintains  
The siege, and Caesar's first Sea-conquest gains.  
THe wind-stuffed sails had forth the Navy sent  
Into the main, the Sailor's looks were bend  
Upon th'●onian wants: but Pompey's eye  
Was ne'er tu●n'd back● from his dear Italy,  
His native coast, and that beloved ●hore,  
Which fate ordains he ne'er shall visit more,  
Till the high cliffs no more for clouds he se●s,  
And the hills lessening vanish from his eyes:  
Sweet sleep did then his weary limbs compose,  
When Julia's ghost through the cleft ground arose  
In woeful wise, and with a funeral brand  
Seemed fury-like before his face to stand.  
From the blessed soul's abode, th'elysian field,  
To Stygian darkness, and damned Ghosts exiled  
Since this sad war, I saw the fury's fire  
Their brands (quoth she) to move your wicked ire.  
Charon pre●ares more boats for souls to come,  
And hell's enlarged for tormenting room.  
Three sisters speedy hands cannot suffice,  
For breaking threads has tired the Destinies,  
Pompey, whilst mine, a life triumphant led:  
Thy fortunes changed with thy marriage bed:  
Strumpet Cornelia, damned by destiny  
To ruin her great Lords, could marry thee,  
My funeral fire scarce out. Let her in flight  
Attend thee now, and through this civil fight  
Follow thy Standard, whilst I still have power  
To breal●e your rest at every sleepy hour.  
No how regives freedom to your love's delight;  
The day holds Caesar, julia holds the night.  
Lethe's dull waters made not me forget  
Thee husband, and hell princes did permit  
That I should follow thee; through both the hosts  
I'll rush, while thou art fight: juliaes' ghost  
Shall tell thee still whose Son in law thou art;  
Think not that war shall this alliance part;  
Th●s war shall make us meet again. This said  
She through her fearful lords embraces fled,  
He, though the gods by ghosts do threaten, still  
Madder of war, with sure presage of ill,  
Why are we scared (quoth he) with fancies vain?  
Either no sense doth after death remain,  
Or death is nothing Now the setting Sun  
To drown as much of his bright Or●e begun,  
As the Moon wants, when after full she wanes,  
Or grows near full. Dyrrachium entertains  
His navy now; the Sailors make to shore,  
Pull down the sails, and labour at the oar.  
Caesar perceiving all the Ships were gone  
Past sight with prosperous winds, and he alone  
Left Lord in Italy, no joy receiv'de  
In th' honour of great Pompey's flight, but grieved  
His foes fled safe along the Ocean;  
No fortune could suffice this eager man,  
Differing of the war to him seemed more  
Than this small conquest; but he now gives over  
Wars care awhile, intent on peace again,  
And knowing how the people's loves to gain,  
That corn most stirs their hate, most draws their loves,  
That only famine to rebellion moves  
Cities, and fear is bought, where great men feed  
The slothful Commons'; nought starved people dread.  
Curio is sent to the S●ilian Towns,  
Where once the violent Sea did either drown,  
Or cut the land, and made itself a shore  
In the midland, the waters ever roar,  
And struggle there, lest the two hills should close.  
Part of the war into Sardinia goes:  
Both famous Lands for rich fruitful fields,  
No land to Italy more harvest yields,  
Nor with more Corn the Roman Garners fills:  
Not Libya these, as Granaries excels,  
When Boreas blasts (the southwinds ceasing) tear  
The showering clouds, and make a fruitful year.  
These things provided thus, with peaceful shows,  
And Troops unarmed to Rome the Conqueror goes.  
Oh had he but come home with victory  
Only of Britain, France and Germany,  
What long triumphant pomp, what honour than,  
What stories had he brought? How th' Ocean,  
And the Rhine both his Conquests bridled,  
The noble Gauls, and yellow Britons led  
Behind his lofty Chariot; winning more  
He lost those triumphs were deserved before.  
No flocke● of people now his coming greet  
With joy; all fear his looks; none stand to meet  
His troops; yet proud is he such fear to move,  
And would not change it for the people's love.  
Now Anxurs steepest hills he had orepast,  
Where a moist path o'er Pomine fens is placed;  
Where the high wood does Scythian Diana ' show:  
Where to long Alba● feasts the Consuls go.  
From an high reek he views the town afar  
Not seen before in all his Northern war.  
Then thus (admiring his Rome's wall) he spoke,  
Could men not for●'d by any fight forsake  
Thee the gods seat: What City will they dare  
To fight for? ●ere the gods their loves declare,  
That not the furious Eastern nations,  
Pannonians, or swift Sarmatians,  
Daci, or Geteses invade thee: fortune spares  
Thee Rome in this to send thee civil wars,  
Having so saint a chief. Then fearful Rome  
He enters with his Troops; they think him come  
To fire and sack the city, not to spare  
The gods themselves; This measure had their fear.  
They think he'll do what ere he can; no songs,  
No shouts they counterfeit in joyful throngs;  
They scarce have time to hate; the fathers meet  
In Phoebus' temple by no lawful right  
Of convocation, from their houses set,  
And lurking holes: the Consuls sacred seat  
Was not suppli'de; next them no Praetor fills  
His room, but empty stand those honoured Sells.  
Caesar was all the S●nate fit to bear  
Witness of private power, and grant what ere  
He please to ask; Crowne●, Temples, their own blood  
Or banishment; fortune in this was good  
He blushed more to command, than Rome t'obey,  
But liberty in this durst make assay  
By one, if law could overmaster force;  
Metellus seeing the vast massy doors  
Of Saturn's temple ready to fly open;  
Running enraged breaking through Caesar's troop,  
Before the yet unopened door he stayed.  
(Only the love of gold is not afraid  
Of death and threatening swords; the laws are gone  
And broke without one conflict: wealth alone  
The worst of things had power this jar to make)  
Staying the rapine thus the Tribune spoke  
Aloud to Caesar; thought this breast of mine  
The temple opes; n●●r azure shalt thou find,  
Robber, but what thou buyest with sacred blood;  
This office wronged will find a vengeful God.  
A Tribunes curse pursuing Cr●ssus, made  
A fatal Parthian war; but draw thy blade:  
Let not the people's eyes scare thee from this  
Thy wickedness; the town forsaken is:  
No wicked soldier from our treasuryes  
Shall pay himself, find other enemies  
To spoil, and conquer, other towns to give.  
No need can thee to this foul rapine drive;  
In me alone, Caesar, thou findest a war:  
These words incensed the angry conqueror;  
In vain, Metellus, h●p'st thou to obtain  
A noble death (quoth he) we scorn to stain  
Our hand in such a throat; no dignity  
Makes thee worth Caesar's 〈◊〉; must liberty  
Be saved by thee; the fates confound not so  
All this, but that the laws, rather than owe  
To thee their preservation, would be broke,  
And ta'en away by Caesar; thus he spoke;  
But when the temple doors the Tribune stout  
Left not, more angry grown, he looks about  
On his keen swords, to play the gown man now  
He had forgot; when Cotta 'gan to woe  
Metellus to give over his enterprise;  
The freedom of men subjugated dies,  
By freedom's self (quoth he) whose shadow thou  
Shalt keep, if all his proud commands thou do.  
So many unjust things have conquered we  
Already suffered, and this now must be  
Th'excuse t'our shame, and most degenerate fear,  
That naught can be denied; now let him bear  
Away from hence these seeds of wicked war.  
Loss hurts those people that in freedom are.  
Worst to the Lord is serving poverty.  
Metellus is removed, and opened be  
The temple doors; all the Tarpejan hill  
With horrid noise the broken hinges fill,  
And from the bottom of the temple there  
The Roman people's wealth, which many a year  
Had not been touched, which Carthage wars to us,  
And the two Kings, Philip, and Perseus  
Both conquered brought, is ransacked; gold they reave  
Which flying Pyrrhus to thee, Rome, did leave,  
For which Fabritius would no traitor be.  
What ere the virtuous frugality  
Of our forefathers had yet kept unspent,  
And Asia's wealthy tributaries sent.  
What ere Metellus brought from conquered Crete,  
And o'er the seas from Cyprus Cato ●et.  
The spoils of all the East, and treasures proud  
Of captive Kings, which Pompey's triumphs showed.  
This temples impious robbing brought to pass  
That Rome than first then Caesar poorer was.  
Now had great Pompey's fortune drawn from all  
The world strong nations with himself to fall.  
Aid to the war so near first Graecia lends,  
And Cyrrha on the Rock; Amphissia sends  
Her Phocian bands; Parnassus learned hill  
From both her tops sends men, Baeotians fill  
The camp, near whom th' oraculous waters flow  
Of swift Cephissus; men from Pisa too,  
And Theban Dirce, and where under sea  
Alphaeus sends his streams to Sicily.  
Th'Arcadians leave their Maenalus, and from  
Herculean Octa the Trachinians come.  
The Thesprots came, and their now silent oak  
Th'Epirotes near Chaonia forsook.  
Athens, though wasted now with musters quite,  
Yet levies men, and to this civil fight  
Three Saliminian ships sends from her fleet  
To Phoebus' dedicated: Ioue-loued Crete  
From Gnossus, and Gortina sends toth' field  
Archers, that need not to the Parthians yield:  
Soldiers from out Dardanian Oricum,  
From Athamas, and from Encheleae come,  
Famed for transformed Cadmus' funerals:  
From Colchos, where Absyrtus foaming falls  
Into the Adrian: those where Peneus flows:  
He that jolchos in Thessalia ploughs:  
Thence was the sea first tried, when Argo bore  
Those that first sailed to a foreign shore,  
And first of all committed frail mankind  
To mercy of the raging sea and wind:  
That ship taught men a way unknown to die▪  
From Thracian Aemus, and from Pholoe  
Beelyed with Centaurs, and from Strymon too,  
From whence the birds to Nile in winter go:  
From barbarous Cone, where into the seas  
Six headed Ister does one channel ease  
At Peuce, soldiers come: the Mysian,  
And cold Caicus-washt Idalian,  
Barren Arisbe helps, and Pitane:  
Celenae by Apollo's victory  
Condemned, that cursed Minerva's fatal gift;  
Where into crooked Maeander Marsyas swift  
Falling, there mingled back against does flow;  
The land, that from gold mines let's Hermus go,  
And rich Pactolus; those of Ilium  
With Ilium's fate to falling Pompey come;  
The tale of Troy, and Caesar: pedigree  
Drawn from julius could no hindrance be.  
The Syrian people from Or●ntes go,  
Windy Damascus, happy Minos too;  
Gaza, and Idumaea rich in Palms;  
Instable Tyre, Sidon, whom purple fames:  
These ships bound to the war, the Cynosure  
Guides strait along the sea, to none more sure;  
Phaenicians, that (if fame we dare believe)  
To humane speech first characters did give.  
The rivers yet had not with paper served  
Egypt; but ●arv'd beasts, birds, and stones preserved  
Their magic language. Taurus' lofty wood  
Forsaken is; Tarsus, where Per●eus flood,  
From Coricus, digged from an hallow rock,  
Mallos, and Aegae the Cilicians flock  
No Pirates now, but to a just war pressed.  
Fame of this war had stirred the farthest East  
Where Ganges is, that only cross doo●s run  
Of all earth's rivers to the rising Sun,  
And rolls his waves against the Eastern wind.  
Philip's great Son, there stayed, was taught to find  
The world more large, than his ambitious mind  
Conceived it: and where double channelled Ind  
Feels not Hydaspes' mixture: Indians,  
That suck sweet liquor from their sugar canes:  
And those, whose hair with saffron is bedyed,  
Whose garments lose with coloured gems are tied;  
Those that alive their funeral piles erect,  
And leap into the flames helping t'effect  
Fate's work; what glory 'tis, content to live  
No more the remnant to the gods to give;  
Fierce Cappadocians, th' hardy Nations  
Near to Ammannus, the Armenians  
Near strong Niphates; the Coastrae from  
Their lofty woods, and the Arabians come  
Into an unknown world, wondering to see  
Shadows of woods on the right hand to be.  
Farthest Olostrians come to Roman war;  
Carmanian Captains too; who Southward far  
See not the set of the whole Northern Bear;  
By night but little shines Boötes there.  
The Aethiopian land not seen at all  
By any of the signs Septentrional  
But crooked Taurus' hoof; those people too  
Whence great Euphrates, and swift Tigris flow,  
From one sp●ing Persis sends them; 'tis unknown  
What name, should those two Channels meet in one,  
They'd bea●e Euphrates flowing on the fields,  
That profit there, that Nile in Egypt, yields.  
But Tigris swallowed by the gaping earth  
Long hides his course: but at his second birth  
Denies not to the Sea his newborn flood.  
Betwixt bo●h Camps fierce Parthians neuters stood,  
Content that they alone had caused this war.  
With poisoned arrows wand'ring Scythians far  
Come to the Camp, whom Bactros' joy flood  
Encloses, and Hyrcania's desert wood.  
The valiant Heniochian Horsemen there  
Sprung from the Spartan race: Sarmatians near  
To the fierce Moschi, where cold Phasis glides,  
And Col●hos richest pasture fields divides.  
Where Halys fatal to the Lydian King  
Does flow; where Tanais, that draws his spring  
From the Riphaean hills, and doth divide  
Europe from Asia, giving to each side  
The name of several worlds, and (as he bends)  
Now to this world, now that increase he lends.  
Where slow Moeotis driven into the seas,  
Takes from the pillars of great Hercules  
Their fame; denying that the Gades alone  
Admit the sea. Scythonian nations,  
The valiant Arians, Arimaspians  
With gold decked locks, and swift Gelonians.  
The Massegets, their thirst that satisfy  
With the same horses bloods, whereon they fly.  
Not Cyrus leading th'eastern troops, nor when  
Xerxes by darts numbering his armed men  
Came down; nor Agamemnon bound to set  
His brother's ravished wife with that famed fleet,  
So many Kings brought under their commands,  
So many nations drawn from several lands,  
Different in language, and attire; nor ere  
Did fortune bring so many men to bear  
Part in a mighty ruin, making all  
Sad obsequies at Pompey's funeral.  
Marmaricke troops the horned Ammon pressed,  
And all scorched Africa from the farthest West  
To th'eastern shore, send aid, as far as lie  
The Syrteses gulfs; lest Caesar severally,  
And oft be troubled, here all nations  
Pharsalia brings to be suddu'de at once.  
Caesar now leaving fearful Rome in haste  
With his swift troops the cloudy Alpes orepast:  
But though his fame all people else affright,  
Phocian Massyllia (f) dares yet keep aright  
Her faith, and far from Greekish levity  
The cause, the laws, not fortune follows she:  
But first of all they labour to assuage  
With peaceful parley his uncurbed rage,  
And stubborn mind: and to their foe now nigh  
They send an Olive-bearing Embassy.  
As Latiums' annals can true mention make,  
Massilia still was ready to partake  
The fate of Rome in any foreign war:  
And now if triumphs over nations far  
Caesar, thou seek, to such a conflict take  
These hands, and lives of ours; but if you make  
Sad civil war, then give us leave to bend  
To neither side, and naught but tears to spend.  
Let not our hands in wounds so sacred be:  
If th'heavenly gods had civil enmity,  
Or earthborn Giants should assault the sky,  
No aid to jove durst human piety  
By arms or prayers lend; their states above  
We know not, but are bound to think that jove  
Has thunder still; besides how many from  
All nations now do voluntaryes come?  
The slothful world is not from vice so far  
That you should need forced sword to civil war.  
Would every people would this cause refuse,  
And this sad war no hands, but Roman use.  
Some hands would falter at their father's sight,  
And brothers faintly would 'gainst brothers fight.  
The war will soon have end, if foreign states  
You use not t'exercise their ancient hates.  
Our humble suit is, that within our wall  
Thou thou ldst trust thyself, and leave behind thee all  
Thy threa●ning Eagles; let us this obtain  
To shut out war, and Caesar entertain.  
Let this place free from guilt safely receive  
Thyself and Pompey, if fates please to give  
Peace to unconquered Rome; here both may meet  
Unarmed; but why, when danger did invite  
Thy wars to Spain, turnedst thou to us aside?  
We are of no avail to turn the tide  
Of your great wars; our arms have proved still  
Unfortunate; when fortune did exile  
Us from our first plantation, here we sat,  
And Phocis sacked towers hither did transla●e:  
Here in a foreign coast, and weak walled town  
Safe have we lived; our Faith is our renown.  
If thou intent siege to our walls to lay,  
Or through our gates t' enforce a speedy way;  
In the defence we are resolved to dye,  
And fury of the sword, and fire to try.  
If thou divert our water's course, the ground  
we'll dig, and lick the puddle we have found:  
If food should fail, flesh of our children slain  
(Fearful to touch or see) our jaws should stain:  
For liberty to suffer we'll not fear  
What once Saguntum, when besieged, could bear  
In Carthage war: our babes in vain that strive  
To suck their mothers dried up breasts, we'll give  
Freely to th'fire: a wife shall sue for death  
At her dear husband's hand: a brother's breath  
A brother's hand shall stop; this civil war  
we'll choose o'th'two; so spoketh ' ambassador.  
But Caesar's troubled look his anger speaks  
Before his words; but this at last; these greeks  
Vain hope of our departure has possessed;  
Though we were marching to the farthest West,  
Yet have we time to sack Massilia,  
Soldiers rejoice, fate meets us in the way  
With war; as winds in th'empty air do lose  
Their force, unless some strong grown oak oppose:  
As mighty fires for want of fuel dye,  
So want of foes, breeds our calamity.  
Our strength were lost unless some durst stand out  
To be subdued; but if I come without  
My arms, they will receive me; they desire  
Not to exclude, but take me prisoner.  
But they (forsooth) would feign that guilt eschew  
That follows civil war; I'll make them rue  
Their ask peace, and know that nought can be  
Safer than war to those serve under me.  
Then on he marches; the town fearless shut  
Their gates, and soldiers on the rampiers put.  
Not far off from the walls a hill there stood,  
Whose top was like a field level and broad;  
Which Caesar in surveying judged to be  
Safe for a camp, and fit to fortifie●  
The town's n●e●'st part did an high castle raise  
Equal to th'hill; in midst a valley was.  
Caesar resolves on a laborious thing,  
To fill the valley, and together bring  
Both hills; but first to shut up quite the town  
By land, from both sides his high camp brings down  
A long work to the sea, a bulwark raised  
Of turfs, with rampiers on the top, and placed  
In length, to cut all convoys from the town.  
This was a thing for ever to renown  
This Greekish town, to stay the violent course  
Of this hot war, not t●ne by sudden force,  
Or fear; when Caesar all the rest orerunne,  
The city's conquest asked him time alone:  
'Twas much ●o stay ●is fates: fortune in haste  
To make him lord of all the world did waste  
Time at this ●eidge: n●w round about the town  
The lofty woods are felled, large Oaks hewn down,  
To fortify with posts t●e bulwarks side,  
Lest earth too brittle of itself should slide  
Away, not able the tower's weight to bear.  
A wood untouched of old was growing there,  
Of thick set trees, whose boug●s spreading and fair,  
Meeting obscured the enclosed air,  
And made dark shades exiling Phoebus' rays,  
There no rude Fawn, nor wanton Sylvan plays;  
No Nymph disports, but cruel Deities  
Claim barbarous ●ites, and bloody sacrifice:  
Each trees defiled with humane blood: if we  
Believe traditions of antiquity,  
No bird dates light upon those hallowed bows:  
No beasts make there their dens: no wind there blows,  
No lightning falls: a sad religious awe  
The quiet trees unstirred by wind do draw.  
Black water currents from dark fountains flow:  
The gods unpolisht images do know  
No art, but plain and formelesse trunks they are.  
Their moss, and mouldiness procures a fear:  
The common figures of known Deities  
Are not so feared: not knowing what God 'tis  
Makes him more awful: by relation  
The shaken earth's dark caverns oft did groan:  
Fallen Yew trees often of themselves would rise:  
With seeming fire oft flamed th'unburned trees:  
And winding dragons the cold oaks embrace:  
None give near worship to that baleful place;  
The people leave it to the gods alone.  
When black night reigns, or Phoebus guilds the noon,  
The Priest himself trembles afraid to spy  
O● find this woods tutelar Deity.  
This wood he bids them fell: not standing far  
From off their work: untouched in former war,  
Among the other bared hills it stands  
Of a thick growth; the soldiers valiant hands  
Trembled to strike, moved with the majesty,  
And think the axe from off the sacred tree  
Rebounding back would their own bodies wound▪  
Tn ' amzement of his men when Caesar found,  
In his bold hand himself an hatchet took,  
And first of all assaults a lofty oak,  
And having wounded the religious tree,  
Let no man fear to fallen this wood (quoth he)  
The guilt of this offence let Caesar bear.  
The soldiers all obey, not void of fear,  
But balancing the gods, and Caesar's frown.  
The knotty Holmes, the tall wild Ashes down,  
Jove's sacred Oak, ship-building Alder falls,  
And Cypress worn at great m●ns funerals,  
Than first cut down, admit the sight of day;  
The falling trees so thick each other stay.  
The Gauls lament to see the wood destroyed:  
But the besieged townsmen all o'erjoyed,  
Hope that the wronged gods will vengeance take;  
But gods oft spare the guiltiest men, and make  
Poor wretches only feel their vengeful hand.  
When wood enough was felled, wanes they command  
From every part, plowmen their seasons lose,  
Whilst in this work soldiers their teams dispose.  
But weary in this (g) lingering war to stay,  
Before the walls Caesar goes far away  
To meet his troops in Spain; his army stays  
Before the town: there lofty forts they raise,  
And bulwarks equalling the height o'th' town,  
Which had in earth no fixed foundation,  
But rolled to and fro, the cause unknone:  
The townsmen viewing this strange motion,  
Thought it some earthquake, where the struggling wind  
From the earth's caverns could no passage find:  
But much they wonder their own walls stand fast:  
From thence against the town their Piles they cast;  
But the Greeks missill weapons did more harm  
To Caesar's men, sent from no feeble arm,  
But mighty engines with a whirlwinds might;  
These not content one breast alone to split,  
Through many bodies, bones, and armours cleave,  
Not losing in one wound their strength, and leave  
Behind them many deaths; but when they throw  
Great massy stones, the mortal force is so  
As from a mountain's top a falling rock,  
Which the winds force, and ruining time has broke;  
Not only kills what man so ere it dash,  
But every limb does into pieces pash.  
But when with fence of shields conjoined all  
The sheltered soldiers could approach the wall,  
Their heads all covered like a fishes shell,  
Those darts and stones slew over them, which fell  
With danger on their heads before; but now  
The greeks at such small distance could n●t throw,  
Nor th'engine change, content with weight alone  
On their foes heads they roll down heavy stone:  
But while the fence did last, hurtless did all  
Their stones, and darts, like hail on houses fall;  
Until the townsmen's teased valour broke  
(When Caesar's m●n were tired with often strokes)  
The fence, and did their joined shields divide:  
Then did a thin earth covered work proceed;  
Under whose covert those that lay did fall  
To work in undermining of the wall.  
Sometimes the back forced ram did strongly drive  
Forward, the well compacted wall to rive.  
But from above with fires, with often strokes  
Of broken bars, stakes, and fire hardened oaks  
They force the fence; the work broke down & vain,  
The soldiers tired fly to their camp again.  
The greeks than sally fo●th, not satisfied  
That their walls safely stand, and fire works hide  
(h) Under their arms no mortal bow nor spear  
Arms the bold youth, but flaming fire they bear,  
Which with swift wings into the Roman trench  
The strong winds carry: nought has power to quench  
Or slacken it, the wood though green dissolves,  
And in black clouds of smoke the air involues,  
But fire all pieces of the buildings take,  
Not only wood, but stones, and rocks do crack,  
And moulder into ashes: greater now  
The failing bulwarks in their ruins show.  
The conquered now losing all hope by land  
Resolve the hazard of sea-fight to stand:  
Their ships foredeck no gilded names adorn;  
But timber plain, such as the woods had borne  
Growing, make stations firm for Naval fight,  
Now down the stream of Rodanus the fleet  
From Staechas comes to sea, and there attends  
Br●tus Praetorian ship: Massilia sends  
Her utmost strength to trial of the war;  
Old men, and beardless boys all armed are.  
The fleet then ready on the Ocean  
Was rigged, and ●ld worn ships repaired again.  
Now when the sky is clear, and his bright rays  
On the calm sea the rising Sun displays:  
The North and Southern winds their fury spare,  
And leave the calmed Ocean fit for war:  
Both nations rowing from their stations meet,  
Here the Caesarian, there the Grecian fleet.  
With oft and lusty strokes of Rowers from  
The havens trembling the great Galleys come.  
The ho●es of Caesar's fleet Galleys that bore  
Three Oars aside, and some that went with four  
Or more did ma●e, themselves opposing so  
In front, behind them smaller vessels go,  
Liburnian Galleys with two Oars content.  
Con●oyn'd in fo●me of a● half Moon they went.  
Brutus Praetorian galley swear't the sea  
Like a vast house, than th'rest more high was she,  
And rowed with six strong Oars on a side.  
But when 〈◊〉 little sea-room did divide  
Both fleets, as that one stroke would make them meet,  
Numberless voices the vast air did gree●,  
Ploughing the Seas. Soldier's loud shouts quite drowned  
The noise of rowing, and shrill trumpets sound.  
Then sweep they the blue waves: the rowers seat  
Themselves, & 'gainst their breasts strong strokes they f●t  
Ships against ships, beaks meeting beaks resound,  
And run eastern; the air is darkened round  
With flying darts, which fa●ling th'Ocean hide.  
Then turning their forecastles far more wide,  
They make their hornest ' engir● the adverse fleet.  
As when strong winds with tides repugnant meet,  
One way the Sea, the waves another go,  
These ships upon the furrow'de Ocean so  
Make different tracts, and waves upon the main,  
Which oars raised the sea beats down again.  
But the Greek vessels were more nimble far  
Either to fly, or turn about the war,  
They could without long tedious turning wield  
Themselves, and quickly to the stern could yield  
The Roman ships slow keeled would firmly stand,  
And lend sure footing like a fight by land.  
The master then of his Praetorian ship  
Brutus be spoke, why dost thou let them slip?  
Leave thy Sea-tricks and join the battles close,  
'Gainst the Phocaicke stems ●ur ships oppose:  
He strait obeys, and turns his own bro●d side  
Against their stems; what ship so ere they tried  
To encounter her, with her own stroke o'ercome  
Sti●kes fast, and is surprised; they ho●ke in some,  
With oars some, some they with chains hold fast:  
On the seas covered face the war is placed.  
No brandished javelins manage now the war,  
No darted steel bestowing wounds from far:  
Hands join with hands, and in this Naval fight  
The sword acts all: in their own ships upright  
They face their foes prone strokes, some fall down slain  
In their own ships▪ died is the Ocean,  
And the waves stiffened with congealed blood:  
Ships hooked together could not meet, withstood  
By falling carcases; some half dead sink,  
And their own blood mixed with salt water drink:  
Some, that desire their struggling lives to keep,  
Fall in the ruins of their broken ship.  
javelins, that missed the aim they did intend,  
Fall in the sea, and finish there their end,  
Finding their bodies to receive a wound.  
A Roman ship by Greeks environed round  
Fights stiffly still, on left hand, and on right  
Maintaining long 'gainst all a doubtful fight;  
Upon whose lofty deck whilst Ta●us bold  
Strove a seized Grecian flag to hold,  
Two darts together sent together split  
His breast and back, and in the middle meet:  
The blood not knowing yet which way to run  
Makes stand; but out at last both darts are thrown:  
He in two wounds his dying soul divides.  
Hither his ship whilst hapless Telo guides,  
Than whom none better on a boisterous sea  
Could guide a ship, none better knew than he  
Tomorrow's weather, if the Sun he spied,  
Or Moon, and could for fut●●re storms provide.  
He with his stem a Roman ship had broke,  
But through his heart a trembling javelin stroke;  
The ship turns off following his dying hand;  
Gyareus leaping to his friends command  
Strait with a Roman javelin strongly flung  
Was slain, and to the ship fast nailed hung.  
Two twins stand up, their fruitful mother's fame,  
That from one womb with fates far different came,  
(Death par●s them: their sad parents reft of one  
Without mistaking know their living son,  
Whose looks the cause of lasting sorrow keep,  
And make his friends for his slain brother weep.)  
One of those twins from his Greek ship was bold  
Upon a Roman keel to lay strong hold:  
But from above a stroke cuts off his hand,  
Which in the place did still fast bended stand,  
And kept the hold; the nerves more stiff became  
By death, his courage by this noble maim  
Was raised, and greater by this accident  
His valiant left hand 'gainst his foes he bent,  
And rushes on his lost right hand to reach,  
But that (alas) another sword did fetch  
Off by the shoulder: now both hands were gone,  
Nor sword, nor target could he wield; yet down  
He did not sink, but naked breasted stood,  
Foremost to save his armed brother's blood,  
And there all darts, all wounds that were ordained  
For many deaths one dying breast contained;  
And than his soul fleeting so many ways  
He recollects, and in his tired limbs stays  
That little strength, and blood was left, to skip  
Before his death into the Roman ship  
His enemies by weight alone t'oppress:  
For now the ship laden with carcases,  
And full of blood, bored through the side had been,  
And through her ●eakes drinking the water in  
Was filled up to the hatches, sinking than  
It turned the face of the near Ocean:  
The waters to the sinking ship gave way,  
And in her room closed up again. That day  
Miraculous fates the Ocean did behold.  
An iron hook thrown to lay violent hold  
Upon a ship, on Lycidas did light:  
Drowned had he been, but his friends hindered it,  
And on his lower parts caught hold, in two  
The man was plucked: nor did his blood spin slow  
As from a wound, but gushing in one spout  
From all his broken veins at once let out:  
Into the sea falls his life-carrying blood.  
Never so great a passage open stood  
To let out any soul, life strait forsakes  
His lower half, since vital parts it lacks:  
But in his upper half (since in that part)  
Lay the soft lungs, and life sustaining heart,  
Death sta●es a while, and finds repugnancy,  
Nor at one time could all his members dye.  
The men, that manned one ship, eager of fight  
All pressing to one side leave empty quite  
The other side: whose weight over turned the ship,  
Which topsy turvy sinking down did keep  
The Sailors under water; all of them  
Were drowned nor could their arms have room to swim.  
One horrid kind of death that day was seen,  
A young man swimming was, whose breast between  
Two meeting Ships sharp stems was bored through.  
The brazen stems through bones, and flesh did go,  
And made a noise; his squeezed belly sent  
up through his mouth blood mixed with excrement.  
But when the ships divide themselves again,  
The body thrown into the Ocean,  
The water through his bored bosom came:  
Now in the Sea shipwrecked Massi●ia●s swame  
Towards their fellow's ship to save their lives:  
But that already over burdened str●ues  
To keep her friends (though thus distressed) out,  
And from above with swords the Soldiers cut  
Their arms, when hold upon the ship they lay,  
Then down again into the Sea fall they  
Leaving their hands behind, the Ocean  
Can now no longer their maimed trunks sustain.  
But now when all the Soldier's darts were gone,  
Fury finds weapons, Oars by some are thrown  
Against their foes: with a strong arm. The mast  
Do some tear down, and in their fury cast:  
Some tear the Sailor's seats, boards from the deck  
Some throw▪ for weapons they their ships do break.  
Some wanting swords their friends dead bodies spoil:  
From his own breast one draws the mortal Pile,  
With the left hand holding the wound, so long  
To keep in blood and strength, till he had flung  
The iavelin at his foe, then lets it run.  
But nothing wrought so much destruction  
At Sea, as Seas opposed Element,  
The fire, which wrapped in unctuous stuff was sent,  
And sulphur balls, the ships apt fuel were,  
Their pitch, and melting wax took easily fire:  
Nor now could water quench th'unruly flame,  
Fragments of broken ships still burning swum:  
Into the Sea to quench his fire one skips,  
For fear of drowning to the burning ships  
Another cleaves: that death, that was most near  
Among a thousand deaths, they most did fear.  
Nor did their shipwrecked valouridly live:  
Darts floating on the waves they take and give  
Their fellows in the ship, or on the seas  
Themselves those darts (though feebly) exercise.  
When weapons want, the seas their weapons be;  
Foes grasping foes together gladly die.  
But in that fight one Phocian did excel:  
To search the seas he under water well  
Could keep his breath, dive to the lowest sands,  
And loosen fastened anchors with his hands.  
He grappling with a foe down in the maine  
Had sunk and drowned him, and himself again  
Safe, and a conqueror rose: but rising found  
Ships in his way, and so at last was drowned.  
Some with their arms on their foes oars lay hold  
To stay their flight: dear as they could they sold  
Their lives: some wounded, to keep off the blows  
From their friends ships, their bodies interpose.  
Tyrrhenus standing on the deck aloft,  
●●gdamus with a Balearicke shaft  
Wounded: the ponderous lead his temples broke,  
His falling eyes their hollow feat forsook,  
The optic nerves, and ligaments were broke:  
He now stark blind, amazed at the stroke  
Thinks this to be death's darkness: finding than  
That all his limbs their perfect strength retain,  
Fellows (quoth he) place me where I may throw  
A pile, and plant me as you use to do  
Engines of war: this little life that now  
Remains, Tyrrenus, on all hazards throw;  
This body, though in part already dead,  
Will serve for warlike uses, and instead  
Of men alive take wounds; Thus having spoke  
In his blind aymelesse hand a Pile he shook,  
And threw it not in vain, which as it light  
Below his belly noble Argus hit,  
Whose weight now falling made it further glide.  
Argus' unhappy Sire on t'other side  
The beaten ship than stood (to none would he,  
When he was young, in feats of soldiery  
Give place, his strength is now by age decay'de,  
And he no Soldier but a pattern made)  
He seeing his son fall with trembling step  
Stumbling along came to that side the ship,  
And finding there the body panting yet,  
No tears fell from his cheeks, nor did he beat  
His woeful breast; His hands now stiff were grown,  
And all his joints cold numbness seizes on:  
A sudden darkness closes up his eyes,  
That he discerns not Argus, whom he sees.  
Argus' his dying head began to rear,  
And feeble neck seeing his Father there  
Speechless, yet seemed in silence to demand  
A kiss, and to invite his Father's hand  
To close his dying eyes; but the old man  
Free from amaze, when bloody grief began  
To recollect his strength, I will not lose  
That time (quoth he) that angry f●te bestows.  
Pardon thy wretched father, that from thee  
Argus, and from thy last embrace I flee;  
Thy wounds warm blood yet signs of life do give,  
thouart but half dead, and yet a whil● mayst live:  
I'll go before thee Son: these words expressed,  
And with a bloody sword piercing his breast  
He leapt into the sea, hasting to death  
Before his dearest Son: his flitting breath  
Unto one single kind of destiny  
He durst not trust. Now great commanders dye;  
And now no longer doubtful is the fight;  
Some of the greeks are sunk: by hasty flight  
Some get into the haven; others bear  
(Changing their load) the Roman Conqueror.  
But now sad Parent's mournings fill the town:  
The shore with mother's lamentation  
Did ring; instead of her dear husband's face,  
A weeping wife mistaken did embrace  
A Roman; Fathers funeral rites to give  
About their Son's deformed bodies strive.  
But Brutus Conqueror on the Ocean  
To Caesar's side first naval honour wan.  
FINIS Libri tertii.   

Annotations on the third Book:  
(a) The usual time of mourning, among the Romans, for the loss of Husband or wife, was ten months; within which space of time it was accounted infamous to marry; and therefore Cornelia daughter to Lucius Scipio, and Widow of Pub. Crassus, who was married to Pompey the great within that time, it here styled by julia strumpet.  
(b) Caesar, although it much concerned him to pursue Pompey, and overtake him before his strength were too much increased by foreign aid, yet partly for want of ships, and partly fearing lest in his absence there might happen some new commotion in Italy, and withal fearing the Pompeian army, that was then in Spain under the conduct of Afranius and Peticius, he resolved first to go and settle things at Rome, and afterwards to go fight against those armies in Spain.  
(c) Valerius was sent into Sardinia to fetch Corn, and Curio into Sicily as Propraetor with three legions; those country's were two the greatest Granaries of the Roman Empire.  
(d) Caesar assembled the Senators into Apollo's temple, and there with courteous language excused himself concerning this war, as a thing undertaken only to preserve his own dignity against the envy and injury of a few, he entreateth them to take care of the commonwealth, and join with him in it: likewise to send Ambassadors to Pompey and the Consuls concerning peace.  
(e) The tribunitial power was held so sacred, that whosoever did offer any violence unto it, they thought the gods would take revenge, and conceived the reason of that great and miserable overthrow, which Marcus Crassus received in, Parthia, to be because At●ejus the Tribune had cursed him as he went away  
(f) Caesar passing through the further Gallia, and understanding that Domitius, whom he had lately taken prisoner at Co●finium, and released again was come into Massylia, a city that favoured Pompey's faction, he called out some of the chief of the city, and admonished them not too much to obey one man, and so draw a war upon themselves; th●y shut the gates against Caesar, but requested him gently to pass by them, hoping by that means to have kept themselves in safety, and to have remained as neuters in the war, but that drew this heavy siege upon them. Unhappy Massilia (saith Florus) which desiring too much to preserve her peace, for fear of war fell into a war.  
(g) Caesar had sent Caius Fabius his Lieutenant with three legions into Spain, to dislodge Afranius a Lieutenant of Pompey's in the Pyrenaean straits: and now himself leaving Caius Trebonius to besiege Massilia by land, and Decius' Brutus to besiege it by Sea, goes with nine hundred horsemen into Spain to Fabius his camp.  
(h) The story in the place concerning the firing of these works which Caesar's soldiers had raised, and the actions of the Massy●ians is not rightly related by Lucan; but differs much from the relation of true histories.   

LUCAN'S Pharsasia. The Fourth Book.  
The Argument.  
Caesar in Spain near high ●erdaes walls  
E●campes 'gainst two Pompeyan generals.  
By sudden floods his camp endangered i●.  
Caesar divides the stream of Sicoris,  
O'ertakes Petrejus flight, who bloodily.  
Breaks off his Soldiers new-made amity;  
But by extremity of thirst compelled,  
Afranius, and himself to Caesar yield.  
Famish'● Antonius yields t' his enemy.  
Vulteius, and his valiant cohort dye  
By their own swords. Curio on Libyan sand●  
Is slain by jubaes' Manritanian bands.  
But now stern Caesar in Spain's farthest coast  
Makes war: on which, though little blood it (a) cost,  
The fortunes of both Generals much did stand.  
Affranius (b) and Petreius did command  
Those camps with equal power, but concord made  
Their government more firm: their men obeyed  
Alternally both General's commands.  
here besides Romans bold Asturian bands,  
Light Vestones, and Cel●a (c) were, that came  
From France, and with th' Iberi mixed their name.  
A little hill not steep of fertile lands  
Swells up, on which the old Ilerda stands;  
Before the town flows Sicoris soft stream,  
Among Spain's rivers of no small esteem;  
On which a bridge of stone high arched stood  
T' endure the violence of a winter's flood.  
The next hill the Pompeyans camp did bear;  
Equal to which Caesar his tents did rear.  
The river in the midst both camps divides,  
From whence the champion fields upon both sides  
Extend themselves b●yond the ken of man.  
Swift Cinga bounds them, that to th' Ocean  
Carries no name, (d) Iber, where you two join,  
That gives the land her name, takes from thee thine.  
The first day they encamped, from fight was free:  
The Captains stood each others strength to see  
Numbering the Eagles; shame did then beg●n  
To damn their rage, and hold their fury in;  
One poor days respite to their country they  
And broke laws gave; but Caesar when the day  
Declined, did with a sudden trench enclose  
His camp about, and to deceive the foes  
His army in the front kept station  
To hide the work; and when the morn drew on,  
He sends swift troops the next hill to surprise,  
That 'twixt the foes camp, and Il●rd● lies;  
Thither the foes with shame and terror make,  
And by a nearer way the hill they take.  
The fight grows there; on sword, and valour one  
Relies, the other on possession.  
Laden with arms march Caesar's soldiers up  
'Gainst the steep hill: their following fellows prop  
Their backs with targets up, to keep them so  
From falling back; their Piles against the foe  
They could not use▪ Pile● guide their faltering steps:  
Hold, as they climb, they catch on shrubs and slips:  
Their swords serve not to fight, but cut their way.  
This danger Caesar saw, and sent away  
His horse to wheel charging in flank the foe,  
And all his foot retreat in safety so  
The skirmish ended thus and neither side  
Obtained the conquest. Thus far fight tried.  
What other fates were added to this war  
Grew from th'vnconstant motions of the air,  
For by cold winters dry north-winds the r●ine  
The clouds congealed bowels did contain.  
Snows on the hills, and tops of mountains lie,  
And frosts, that at the sun's appearance fly.  
All lands within those Western climates are  
Hardened by Winter's dry con●ealing air.  
But when the Sun now waxed warmer came  
To take possession of the heavenly Ram,  
Making the equinoctial again,  
When day t'exceed the night in length began,  
When Cynthia from the sun's conjunction  
But newly come could hardly yet be known;  
Boreas sh' excludes, and fire from Eurus takes:  
He all the clouds that his whole quarter makes  
Throws to the West with Nabathaean blasts,  
The fogs that India, that Arabia casts  
Exhaled, and grown under the rising Sun,  
Sky darkening Co●us exhalation,  
Which cools the Indian air, now blown away  
From thence, make hot the Eastern country's day.  
Nor could the loads of those thick clouds fall down  
On the mid world, strong tempests drive them on  
From North and South; alone does Calpes ground  
Drink the moist air, the farthest Western bound,  
Where heavens bowed hinge does with the Ocean meete●  
The clouds driven thither could no further get:  
Their vastness hardly could involved be  
In such straight room, as twxit that earth and sky.  
Those clouds then crushed together by the pole  
Contract in th'air, and down amain they roll  
In gushing showers; lightnings though thick retain  
No flashing fire, extinguished by the rain.  
Iris no colours can distinctly show  
Circling the air with an imperfect bow:  
She drinks the sea, and to the Ocean  
The ponderous waves fall from the sky again.  
The Pyrenaean news, which Titan yet  
Could never melt, flow down: the rocks are wet  
With broken ice: rivers their wont way  
Forsake; as channels the whole fields display  
Themselves: and now as shipwrecked on the seas  
Flo●e Caesar's tents, and drenched companies  
The stream breaks down his camp: rivers o'erflow  
His trenon and works, nor an the soldiers go  
To forage: the drowned fields no victual leave:  
The ways by water covered all deceive  
The fetchers of provision▪ then came on  
A famine still the sad companion  
Of other woes: the soldiers by no foes  
Besidged, are pined, one his whole wealth bestows  
Upon a crust of bread not dear sold:  
(Oh meager thirst of gain) for ready gold  
An hungry ●eller is not wanting there  
The waters now have all, no hills appear,  
The joining rivers like o'erspreading ferns  
Cover high rocks; transported are the dens  
Of beasts; the stream carries the struggling horse  
Not touching ground, and as of greater force  
Than th'Ocean, repels the Ocean's tide.  
The darkened Pole does Phoebus' lustre hide,  
And the black skies all colours do confound▪  
So lies the farthest part of the world's ground,  
Which the cold zone, and frosts perpetual  
Cover those countries see no stars at all:  
Their barren ice breeds nothing: good alone  
To temper with their cold the torrid zone.  
So let it be, great jove, so let it be  
Neptune, whose three forked sceptre rules the sea.  
Thou, jove, with storms perpetual fill the air:  
Thou, Neptune, let no rivers home repair,  
Let no streams find prone passage to the main,  
But with the Ocean's tide turn back again.  
Make the struck earth to deluge pervious:  
These fields let Rhine o'erflow, and Rhodanus.  
Hither their course let all great rivers bend:  
Hither Riphaean snows, lakes, fountained s●nd;  
Hither all standing pools from far command,  
And save from civil war this wretched land.  
But Caesar's fortune, with this little fear  
Of his content, returns greater than ere:  
The gods 'gan favour, and deserved t'obtain  
Pardon: the clouded air cleared up again:  
The mastered waters Sol in fleeces spread:  
The night, presaging a fair morn, looked red:  
Things keep their place: moisture the sky forsakes;  
Water (late high) her own low centre takes:  
Trees, and emergent hills t'appear began:  
The fields at sight of day grow dry again.  
When Sicoris to his own banks restored  
Had let the field, of twigs, and willow board  
They made small botes covered with bullocks hide,  
In which they reached the rivers further side.  
So sail the Veneti if Padus flow,  
The Britain's sail on their calm Ocean so.  
So the Egyptians sail with woven boats  
Of papery rushes in their Nilus floats.  
The army in these boats transported now  
Build up a bridge, and fearing th' overflow  
Of the fierce stream, their work they do note●nd  
Upon the bank, but o'er the fields extend.  
And lest again Sicoris should o'erflow,  
In several channels cut, he suffers now  
For his first crime: but when Petreius spied  
That Caesar's fort●ne did all actions guide,  
Ilerda he forsakes, trusting no more  
The strength of that known world, but seeking for  
Untamed nations fierce with wars dire love,  
(e) To that world's end the battle to remove.  
When Caesar saw the hills and camp forsook,  
He bids his men take arms, and never look  
For bridge, or ford, but with their hardy arms  
Swim over the stream: the soldiers his alarms  
Obey with speed, and rushing on to fight  
Venture those ways, that they would fear in flight,  
Then taking arms cherish their bodies wet,  
And their benumbed joints with running heat,  
Till noon made shadows short; the horsemen then  
O retake the hindniost of Petreius men.  
Who doubtful are whether to fight or fly.  
Two rock● hills lift their proud tops on high  
Making a vale beneath: above the ground  
Is joined: below safe passages are found  
Through windings dark: which straits if once the foe  
Had in possession, Caesar well did know  
He might from thence carry the war as far,  
As Spain's remote, and barbarous nations are.  
Run without rank (quoth he) pursue your foes:  
Turn back the war, that by their flight you loose:  
Make them turn face to face: though they would fly,  
Give not the cowards leave basely to die,  
But on their breasts let them receive our blows  
This said, with swiftness they prevent their foes  
Flight to the hills, encamping close beside.  
A narrow trench did both the camps divide,  
And of so little distance was the place,  
They might distinctly know each others face.  
There finding fathers, brothers, sons, they see  
The wickedness of civil enmity.  
And first for fear standing a little mute  
With nods, and swords lift up friends, friends salute;  
But when dear love conquered the law of wars,  
Over the trenches leap the soldiers  
T' embrace each other: some their old hosts meet,  
Some their schoolefellowes, some their kinsmen greet.  
He was no Roman, that no enemy knew:  
Sighs break their kisses, tears their arms bedew,  
And though no act of blood were yet begun,  
They fear the mischief that they might have done.  
Why mournest thou fool? why do it thou beat thy breast,  
And weep in vain? why hast thou now confessed  
Thou thou thy will to wicked war dost go?  
Standest thou in such great fear of him whom thou  
Thyself mak'st dreadful? let this trumpets sound,  
Neglect the cruel noise, let none be found  
To bear his Eagles, and the war there ends;  
Caesar and Pompey private men are friends.  
Now concord come, that all things dost enfold  
In thy white arms, and the world's safety hold,  
The earth's blessed love: future impietyes  
Our age may fear; the ignorance here dies  
Of their misdeeds: and from excuse does bar  
Their guilt, they know, their foes their kinsmen are.  
Sinister fates, that will by this short peace  
Their future woes, and wickedness increase.  
'Twas peace, and in both camps mixed soldiers strayed,  
And on the grass their friendly banquets made:  
By the same fire together Bacchus' rites  
They celebrate, and spend the watchful nights  
In stories of the war as lovingly  
Together they in joining lodgings lie.  
Where first they did encamp, from what hand fled  
Each Pile, and boast of every valiant deed  
Denying much they grant the wish of Fate,  
And love the wretched Soldiers renovate.  
This love their future wickedness increased,  
For when Petreius saw their friendly feast,  
Thinking himself and camp to sale betrayed  
He arms his household servants to invade  
Dire war: and guarded with a troop of those  
Out of his camp th'vn●rm'd Caesarians throws.  
The sword, as in embraces joined they stood,  
Divides them, and disturbs the peace with blood.  
Then wrath these war provoking speeches gave,  
Soldiers unmindful of the cause you have,  
Though Caesar's conquest you cannot bestow  
Upon the Senate's cause, this you can do,  
Fight till you are o'ercome: whilst you have hands,  
And blood, and whilst the war yet doubtful stands,  
Will you go serve, and traitorous Eagles take?  
And beg of Caesar he no odds would make  
Between his slaves, and at his hands desire  
Your Captain's lives? our safeties treasons hire  
Shall never be; nor make we civil war  
To live: by name of peace betrayed we are.  
People for veins of brass, which deepe-hid lie  
Would never seek, nor towns would fortify:  
No stately horses to the war should place,  
No tower-like ships over spread the Ocean's face,  
If liberty for peace were ere well sold.  
Shall Caesar's Soldiers damned obedience hold  
Bound by a wicked oath, and you make light  
Your faith, because in a good cause you fight?  
But pardon's hoped: oh shames dire funeral.  
Not knowing this, great Pompey, thou o'er all  
The world art mustering, and each farthest King  
Bringing to fight, whilst we are articling  
Basely about thy safety. This fierce speech  
Turned back their minds, & stirred wars wicked itch;  
As when wild beasts weaned from the woods, and shut  
up close to ●ame, have off their wildness put,  
And learned t'endure a man, if blood once stain  
Their jaws, their wildness strait returns again,  
Their jaws grow hot, and their new boiling rage  
The trembling keeper hardly can assuage.  
They run on wickedness, and what might seem  
In a blind war the gods or fortune's crime,  
Deceived trust makes ours; at board, and bed  
The late embraced breasts are murdered;  
And though unwillingly at first they draw,  
Yet when their wicked swords drawn out they saw,  
And striking were, their friends they truly hate,  
And with the stroke themselves they animate.  
Petreius camp is with strange tumult filled,  
And horrid murder: sons their fathers killed:  
And as if hidden mischief lost should be,  
They boast their guilt, and let their Captains see.  
Caesar, though robbed of thy men, yet see  
The gods high favour: not so much for thee  
On Egypt, or Massilias' seas is done,  
Nor so much honour in Pharsalia won.  
(f) For this sole crime of civil war does make  
That thou at length the better cause shalt take.  
The Generals now their bloodstained Soldier  
No more dare trust within the camp so near.  
But by swift flight toward Ilerda make,  
From whom all passage Caesar's horsemen take,  
And there in those dry hills shut up their foes,  
Whom Caesar strives with a deep trench t'enclose  
Cutting all water off, he lets them take  
No springes, nor tents near to the river make  
They seeing the way of death, convert their fear  
To rage; their horses, that unuseful were  
To men beseidged, they kill, and since in flight  
'twere vain to hope, address themselves to fight  
Caesar perceives them coming, and well knows  
That death is sought by his devoted foes.  
Contain your Piles, and swords, Soldiers (quoth he)  
I'll lose no blood to get this victory.  
That foe, that meets the sword, ne'er gratis dies:  
Hating their lives, and cheap in their own eyes,  
They come to mix our losses with their death:  
They'll feel no wounds, but joy in loss of breath.  
But let this heat forsake 'em, this mad fit,  
They'll lose their wish of death. Caesar the fight  
Forbids, and lets their choler spend in vain,  
Till Sol descended to the Ocean,  
And stars appeared; then when no hope's at all  
Of fight, their fierceness does by little fall,  
Their minds grow cold. So is most courage found  
In late hurt men, whilst freshness of the wound,  
And the blood hot gives nimble motion  
To every nerve, and muscles guide the bone:  
If the wound-giver hold his hand, and stay:  
Then a cold numbness, (strength being ta'en away)  
Seizes the mind, and the stiff members ties,  
The wound grown cold (the blood congealing) dries.  
The Soldiers wanting water through each creek  
Of the digged earth for hidden fountains seek.  
Not only now the mattock, and the spade,  
But swords earth-digging instruments are made.  
down from the tops of mountains as profound  
They go, as lies the lowest marish ground.  
Farther from day, and deeper in earth's mould  
Divers not the searcher for Assyrian gold.  
But no sought rivers hidden course is shown;  
No springs appeared opening the Pummice stone:  
No bubbling brook rowles little pebble stones:  
Nor sweeting cave makes distillations.  
Weary with digging then the sweeting men  
Are from those rocky pits drawn out again:  
And this vain search of water the dry air  
Makes them less able to endure; nor dare  
They f●ede their weary bodies, eating nought,  
As medicine against thirst is hunger sought.  
If the soft earth do moisture yield, they bring  
The clods, & o'er their mouths with both hands wring.  
The black unstirred mud, that every sink  
Affords by strife the greedy Soldiers drink.  
And what to save their lives they would have stuck  
To take now dying drink; like beasts some suck  
Beasts dugs, and when milk fails, with greedy jaw  
Mere blood from their exhausted udders draw.  
Herbs, and green leaves they wring: bedewed twigs  
They lick, and juce of bleeding vines: small sprigs  
Of t●ees they for their tender sap do squeeze.  
Oh happy men, whom barbarous enemies  
Flying by (e) poisoning all the rivers killed:  
But, Caesar, though these rivers should be filled  
With poisons, carrions, and pale Aconite  
Growing on Cretan rocks▪ yet knowing it  
These Romans than would drink, their bowels now  
Are scorched, their mouths, & tongs dried rougher grow,  
Their veins shrink up: their lungs in this distress  
Not moist contract the breathing passages  
Breathe hard drawn their ulcered palates tear,  
They open their thirsty mouths, to drink night's air,  
And wish such showers, as all did lately drown,  
And the dry clouds their looks are fixed upon.  
But that which most increased their misery,  
They were encamped not no dry Meroe,  
Nor where the naked Garamantes plow  
Hot Cancers tropic; but between the flow  
Of swift Iberus, and full Sicoris:  
The thirsty camp two neighbouring rivers sees.  
Now both the generals yield; Afranius lays  
Down arms and peace (become a suppliant) prays.  
In●o the enemy's camp his starved bands  
Drawing before the conqueror's feet he stands:  
Then begging pardon with a careless breast  
He lost no Majesty; but 'twixt his ●ast,  
And former state he bears himself in all,  
A conquered man, but yet a general.  
Had I fallen under a base enemy,  
I had not lacked an hand myself to free:  
Know then the cause that now I beg to live,  
I think thee, Caesar, worthy life to give.  
For no sides favour, nor as foes to thee  
Did we take arms; both Generals were we  
Before this civil war, and have maintained  
The former cause: now we'll not fate withstand.  
Spain we deliver up, and open the East:  
Of all the world behind thou now mayst rest  
Secure: nor has much blood's effusion,  
Sharp swords, or wearied arms this conquest won:  
Only thy foes, that thou hast conquered,  
Forgive: nor beg we much, grant us to lead  
Unarmed those lives, that thou hast now bestowed:  
Suppose that all our slaughtered troops lay strowed  
Over the field●: to mix unfortunate  
With happy arms, and we participate  
Thy triumphs were unfit: our fates we know:  
(h) Compel us not with thee to conquer now.  
But Caesar gently, and with smiling cheer  
Both pardons, and dismisses them from war.  
But when the league was firmly ' greeed upon,  
The soldiers to th' unguarded rivers run,  
Fall on the banks, troubling the granted stream.  
But long continued draughts in many of them,  
Not suffering air through th' empty veins to fly,  
Shut up their lives: nor could they easily  
Cease this dry plague: but though their guts they fill,  
The covetous disease is craving still.  
At last their nerves, and strength again it brings  
Oh luxury too prodigal of things,  
Content with no provision easily brought;  
Ambitious hunger for things dear sought  
o'er land, and sea, pride of a sumptuous table:  
See what small store to cherish life is able,  
And nature please: these Soldiers fainting souls  
No unknown Consuls noble wine in bowls  
Of myrrh, and gold restores from fountains pure  
Water, and bread their fleeting lives assure.  
Wretches that follow wars. These soldiers  
Being now disarmed are made secure, from cares  
Exempt, and innocent return again  
To their own towns. When peace they did obtain,  
How much they grieved that ever they had cast  
One pile, or suffered thirst, or ever asked  
The gods in vain to grant them prosperous wars?  
For to the happier fight Soldiers  
What toils through all the world, what doubtful fields  
Remain to fight? Though fortune always yields  
Happy success, yet must they oftentimes  
Conquer, spill blood throughout all lands, and elimes,  
And follow Caesar, through all fates of his.  
When the world's ruines near, he happy is,  
That knows his settled place. Their weary arms  
No war calls forth: their sleeps no loud alarms  
Disturbs; their wives, children, and houses they▪  
And lands (though no deducted colony),  
Enjoy; by fortune from this burden freed  
No favour does their minds disquiet br●ed:  
One general saved their lives: t●ther their own  
Commander was. Thus happy they alone  
Freed from desires the civil wars behold.  
But through the world this fortune did not hold;  
She durst act some what against Casar's side.  
Where long (f) Salonae's beat with the tide  
Of th' Adriaticke sea; where Zephyre blows  
Upon the warm Iader's gentle flows,  
Ant●nius there trusting the warlike bands  
Of his Curetes, whose environed lands  
The Adriaticke sea encircles round,  
Was strait beseidged in the utmost bound,  
Safe from wars reach, if famine, that alone  
Conquers the strongest fortresses, were gone:  
The ground no pasture for their horses yields,  
Nor yellow Ceres' clothes the fallowed fields.  
The men eat grass●, and when the fields grow bare,  
The grass from off their camps dried turfs they tear.  
But when their friends on th'adverse shore they spied▪  
And Zasil●● the admiral, they tried  
New ways of flight by sea; for their stern end  
They did not hoift, nor did their keel extend  
(As custom was) but with unusual sleight  
Firm timber boats to bear a mighty weight  
They made. These empty boats on every side  
Sustain the ship; whose double rank was tied  
With chains across Nor were the oars disposed  
On th' open front to the foes darts exposed:  
Only that sea, that was enclosed round  
By those conjoined boats, their oars did wound.  
A miracle of silent slight it showed;  
She bo●e no sails, or sea discovered rowed.  
Now they observe the tides, till th' ebbing seas  
Leave the sands bare, and make the shore increase;  
Then from above into the Ocean prone  
The ship falls by two galleys waited on:  
o'er which a lofty threatening tower was reared,  
Where spires, and trembling pinnacles appeared.  
Octavius keeper of th'Illyrian sea  
Would not assault this ship too suddenly:  
But his swift vessels thought it good to stay  
Till th' easy passage might increase his prey,  
And farther on to sea by peace invites  
His rashly entered foes; such are the slights  
Of huntsmen, when their toils they have disposed:  
And fearful dear in plumed nets enclosed:  
Their dogs of Crete and Sparta they contain,  
And their wide mouthed Molossians restrain:  
No dog is trusted in the wood, but he,  
That can upon a full sent silent be,  
And never open when he finds the game,  
Content alone to signify the same  
By wagging of the string; then presently  
The Soldiers leave the I'll, and eagerly  
They come a board the ship, when day's last light  
Gave place to the approach of dusky night.  
But the Cilicians of great Pompey's side  
According to their old sea-craft, had tied  
Chains through the midst o'th'sea, of which no show  
Appeared above, but loosely let them flow:  
The chain was fastened to th' Illyrian shore.  
The first, and second ships not stayed got over:  
The third was caught of burden much more vast,  
And to the rock by a drawn rope was cast.  
The rock hangs over the sea (a wonder tis)  
Hollow, and still (though falling) stands, with trees  
Making a shade: hither the sea by tides  
Oft drives: and in those darksome caverns hides  
Ships broke by Aquilon, and drowned men:  
Which hidden store the rock restores again;  
And when the caverns belch it up, in heat  
Sicilian Charybdis cannot get  
Pre-eminence. here did the great ship stand,  
That was with valiant Opitergians manned  
Her from all havens did all ships enclose:  
Some from the rock, some from the shore oppose.  
Vulteius found this under-water train  
(The Captain of the ship) who all in vain  
Striving to cut the chains, did then desire  
Without all hope, to fight: where to retire,  
Or how to conquer is not seen: but here  
As much as snared valour could appear,  
It did: against so many thousand wights,  
That did enclose, scarce one full cohort fights,  
Not long indeed, for night in her black shade  
Shut up the day, and peace the darkness made.  
Then stou● Vulteius thus 'gan animate  
The cohort fearing sad ensuing fate.  
Young men, that but for one short night are free,  
Provide in time for sates extremity:  
There's no man's life is short, that does allow  
Him time to seek his death: nor think it now  
Less glorious that we meet a fate at hand.  
The times of future life none understand.  
'tis equal praise of mind to give away  
Our lives last moment, and the hoped stay  
Of many years, so we the actors be:  
No man can be compelled to wish to dye.  
No way for flight is left: at every hand  
Bent 'gainst our throats the stern Cilicians stand.  
Let fear be banished then: resolve to dye,  
And let your wishes meet necessity.  
Nor shall we fall in a blind cloud of war,  
As when two battles joined in darkness are,  
When heaps of carcases bestrow the field,  
Valour lies buried, all are equal held.  
But in a ship the gods have placed us  
Both to our friends and foes conspicuous.  
The I'll, the continent, the seas allow  
Witnesses to us, and two parties now.  
From divers shores behold us: in our ends  
What great, and rare example Fate intends  
I know not. What ere Chronicles afford  
Of trust, of Soldier's faith maintained by sword,  
We shall excel: 'tis a small thing to die  
Upon our swords, Caesar, we know for thee:  
But greater pledges in this sad distress  
We want, our great affections to express  
And envious Fates us of much praises bar,  
That not our parents, nor our children are  
here with us. Let our foes our valour find,  
And fear our force, and death contemning mind:  
Let them be glad that no more ships were caught,  
Perchance they'll try by leagues what can be wrought,  
Proffering base life: would they would promise us  
Pardon, to make our deaths more glorious,  
Lest when we fall our kill swords upon,  
Our foes should call it desperation.  
Much valour must deserve that Caesar may  
Account the less of us a fatal day  
Among so many thousand. Should fate give  
Egress from hence, I would not wish to live;  
I have already cast away my breath,  
Drawn by the sweetness of approaching death:  
A fury 'tis, which none but they can know,  
To whom near Fates such knowledge do allow;  
The God's deaths sweetness do conceal, to make  
Men live. A noble courage strait did take  
The young men's minds; though all with weeping eyes  
(Before the Captain's speech) had viewed the skies,  
And feared to see the turn of Charles his wain:  
But now their valiant minds wish day again  
After this speech; nor was day slowt ' appear:  
Sol leaving Gemini, and drawing near  
His height in Cancer, when the shortest night  
Urged the Thessalian Archer. Day grown light,  
Discovered warlike Istrians on the land,  
The fierce Liburnians, and Greek fleet, that stand  
Covering the seas. They first suspending fight,  
Strive to o'ercome by covenants, and invite  
The ship to yield by granting life; but they  
Devoted, scorning life, stand in array,  
Secure in sight, resolved what end to take:  
No storms their strong resolved minds could shake:  
And though but few, by land, and sea they fought  
(Such confidence death's resolution brought)  
Against innumerable hands; but when  
War had drawn blood enough, their fury then  
Turned from their foes. The Captain first of all  
Vulteius offering his bare throat 'gan call  
Seeking for death, is there no Soldier here  
Worthy to shed my blood? let him appear,  
And killing me show that himself dares bleed.  
With that of life his wounded breast was freed  
By many swords; Vulteius thanks bestowed  
On all; but dying him, to whom he owed  
His first kind wound, he thankfully again  
Requites with death. Thus meeting all were slain,  
And on one side the wars whole mischief hung.  
So the serpentine brood by Cadmus Sprung,  
Fell by each others hand, a dire presage  
Of the ensuing Theban brothers rage.  
So those of th'waking Dragon's teeth once framed  
In Colchos fields, by Magic spells inflamed,  
With kindred blood the fields ploughed furrows died;  
Which mischief wrought by herbs before untried  
Medea feared herself. So fell these men  
By bargained fate, and in the death of them  
To dye was the least valour: they both fall,  
And kill at once: no right hand missed at all,  
Though at the point of death: nor to their blades  
Owed they their wounds: a breast the sword invades,  
Their throats invade their hands; and if blind chance  
A brother's sword 'gainst brother did advance,  
Or son's 'gainst father, with undaunted hand,  
And all their strength they strike; in this did stand  
Their piety alone, that at one blow  
They would dispatch them; on the hatches now  
Half dead they draw their bowels, and much blood  
Streamed down into the sea; it did them good  
To see the scorned day, death to prefer,  
And with proud looks despise the conqueror.  
Now on the ship the heaps of bodies showed  
The slaughter made: on which the foes bestowed  
Fit funerals, admiring much to see  
To any Captain such fidelity.  
Fame flying through the world did never raise  
Any one ship with such resounding praise.  
Yet will not coward nations since such brave  
Examples, learn to know, that death to save  
Their liberty is not a price so dear:  
But kingdoms armed with power of sword they seare●  
Liberty can use arms, and swords should be  
(As men should know) to keep their liberty.  
Oh would the fates would let the fearful live,  
That valour only death to men might give.  
Nor was that war that did in Libya grow  
Less terrible than this: bold (g) Curio  
By a mild Northern wind was wasted over  
From Lilybaeum to that well known shore,  
Where Clupea seated is, and where he sees  
Great Carthages half ruined edifice:  
And pitching his first tents far from the main,  
Where Bagrada furrows the sandy plain,  
Those hills, and eaten rocks goes to behold,  
Which were A●taeus kingdom called of old;  
Ask the cause of this old name, a clown  
Thus tells the tale by long Tradition known▪  
For Giants births Earth yet not barren made  
In Libyan caves a feared issue had,  
Which to his mother brought as true a fame,  
As Typhon, Tityus, and Briareus name.  
'Twas good for heaven Antaeus was not borne  
At Phlegra; but this gift did more adorn  
His mighty strength: into his limbs (though tired,)  
His mother's touch a vigour fresh inspired.  
This cave his dwelling was, this mountain here  
He lurked about, his food slain lions were:  
His bed no leaves of trees, no skin of beasts:  
His strength by sleeping on the ground increased.  
By him th'inhabitants of Libya died,  
And strangers all, that to our coast applied.  
His strength (not using a long time to fall)  
Needed not earth's rich gift: too strong for all  
He was though standing up; at length through fame  
Of this dire plague the great Alcides came,  
Whose hand both sea and land from monsters freed  
And for th'encounter each put off his weed,  
One's Nemean, tother's Libyan Lion's skin:  
Hercules oils his limbs ere he begin  
According to th' Olympic rites: but he  
Rubbed o'er his limbs with sand: it could not be  
Enough to touch his mother with his feet.  
They grapple then, and arms, arms folded meet.  
Striving each others neck with heavy hand  
To bend; yet both fixed, and unbended stand.  
Both wonder much to meet their match at length:  
But Hercules used not his utmost strength  
At the first bout, but wearied out his foe,  
Which his oft blowing, and cold sweats did show:  
His shaking neck, nor breast could firmly stand:  
His bending hams yield to Alcides' hand:  
Alcides then about his short ribs cast  
His conquering arms, and gripped his yielding waist,  
Then tripping up his legs he fairly ●ayes  
His foe stretched out upon the sand; earth stays  
His sweat, and fills with fresh blood every vain,  
His arms grow brawny, his joins stuff again,  
And his fresh limbs unclasp the others hands.  
Amazed at this new strength Alcides stands  
Nor feared he Hydra so in Lerna lakes  
Fruitful by loss of her reviving snakes,  
Though then but young; Now both were equal grown  
One in earth's strength, the other in his own.  
Near had stern juno more encouragement  
To hope; she sees his limbs with sweeting spent,  
And his neck dried, as when he did sustain  
The heavens: but when he clasped his foe again,  
Antaeus staying not till he be thrown,  
Falls of himself, and rises stronger grown:  
His mother earth to his tired members gives  
What spirit she has, and labours when he strives.  
But when Alcides found ●arths touch to be  
Strengthening to him, now thou shalt stand (quoth he)  
No more thou fallest, nor will we trust again  
The ground: this breast shall thy crushed limbs suste●ne;  
Hither, Antaeus, shalt thou fall this spoke,  
Him striving to fall down aloft he took,  
And grasped his middle fast: earth could not lend  
Strength to her dying son, nor succour send.  
But till his fo●s breast stark and cold he found  
Alcides durst not trust him on the ground.  
From hence self-loved antiquity, and fame,  
Old times recorder, gave this place a name.  
But to these hills a nobler name gave he,  
That drew the Punic foe from Italy.  
Scipio arriving on our Libya, here  
Pitched his first camp: the ruins yet appear  
Of that old trench; this place of all the rest  
Was first by Roman victory possessed.  
Curio, as if the place were fortunate,  
And still retained those former Captain's fate  
In war, rejoiced, and in this lucky place  
Pitched his unlucky tents, which did deface  
The places Omen: and provoked stern foes  
With strength unaequall; Africa all that owes  
Obedience to the Roman Eagles, than  
Was under Varus, who, (though strong in men  
Of Italy) aid from the Libyan King  
Requires, to whom the world's far regions bring  
Their force with juba; no one King alone  
Was master of such large dominion:  
In length th'extent of his great Kingdom's ground  
Gades-neighbouring Atlas, and Jove's Ammon bound  
Near Thera; but in breadth the torrid zone,  
Betwixt the sea, and it, it coasts upon  
So many people to his army press,  
Th' Autolodes, and wand'ring Nomads:  
Getulians' horsed without caparison:  
The Mauritanians of complexion  
Like Indians: poor Nasamonians,  
Scorched Garamantes, swift Marmaricans:  
Massylians, that without saddles ride,  
And with a wand their bitlesse horses guide:  
Mazacian darts, that Median shafts excel:  
Those that in empty cottages do dwell;  
African hunters, that all darts refuse,  
And their loose coats 'gainst angry Lion's use.  
Nor did the cause of civil war alone,  
But private anger bring King juba on.  
Curio that year, wherein he did defile  
Divine, and human laws, strived to exile  
By tribunitial law from Libyas throne  
This King, and bar him his forefather's crown,  
Whilst he would make thee, Rome, a monarchy.  
He mindful of the wrong thinks this to be  
The greatest gift his sceptre could bestow.  
This Iuba's fame affrighted Curio:  
Besides no Soldiers firm to Caesar's side  
Were in his army, none that had been tried  
In Germany▪ but at Confinium ta'en  
False to new Lords did to their first remain  
Doubtful, and thought both sides indifferent were.  
But when he saw all slack through slavish fear,  
That the night-guards their trenches did forsake  
With a distracted spirit thus he spoke.  
Daring conceals great feare● I'll first assay  
The fight, and put my Soldiers in array  
While t●ey are mine: doubt grows from rest alone:  
Fight shall prevent their consultation;  
When swords whet their dire wills, and helmets hide  
Their blushes, who can then compare the side,  
Or weigh the cause? they favour as they stand:  
As no old hate does on the stage command  
Sword-players to meet: they hate by faction.  
This said, in open field he leads them on;  
Whom the wars fortune, meaning to deceive  
After, at first does prosperously receive.  
For Varus he defeated, following on  
Their flying backs in execution  
Even to the camp When juba first did know  
Of this sad field, and Varus overthrow,  
Glad that the glory of the war did stay  
For him, by stealth he lead his troops away:  
And without noise (commanding silence) goes,  
Fearing he should be feared of his foes  
Sabura next in honour to the King  
With a small troop is sent before to bring  
Curio on by provocation,  
As if the war were left to him alone:  
Himself with all his kingdom's strength below  
Keeps in the valley, The Ichneumon so  
Provoking by his tails deceitful shade  
Th' Egyptian Asp, does at the last invade  
(Freed from the deadly venom's danger quite)  
The serpent's throat stretched out in vain to meet  
A slying shade: out the lost poison goes,  
And all about the Asps jaws vainly flows.  
Fortune assists this fraud: fierce Curio  
Descrying not the strength of his hid foe,  
En●oines his horsemen all to issue out  
By night, and range the unknown fields about:  
And after them himself by break of day  
With all his Eagles spread marches away,  
Much (but in vain) entreated to suspect  
Libyan deceit, and frauds that still infect  
The Punic wars: but to his funeral  
Fate gave him up, and civil war did call  
Her author on: o'er rocks and mountains high  
They march; when on the hill from far they spy  
The foe: who cunning, seems to fly away  
Till he have set his battles in array  
Under the hill: this Curio did not know,  
But thought it flight, and like a conqueror now  
Brings forth his troops into the open plain:  
Then first discovered they this guileful train●:  
The seeming-fled Numidians they espied  
On the hills tops enclosing every side:  
Curio, and his lost troops astonished quite;  
The fearful could not fly, the valiant fight:  
The horses now not fierce attrumpets sound  
Chaw not their foamng bits, beat not the ground:  
Spread not their manes nor do their ears advance,  
Nor with their wont spirit curyet and prance:  
Their sweeting shoulders fumed, their tired necks hung  
And their dried mouth thrust out their weary tongue:  
Their breasts, and throats hoarse with oft blowing grew:  
Their heavy pulse far their spent bowels drew:  
The foming dry and hot grew hard upon  
The bloody bits: no strokes could force them on,  
Nor often spurrings make them mend their speed;  
Wounds make them go: to hasten on the steed  
Boots not the rider, for the weary horse  
In coming on wants courage, strength and force:  
He only brings his Rider to the foes,  
And does his breast to all their spears expose.  
But when the Lybian horse came coursing nigh,  
The ground did shake, and clouds of dust did fly  
(As great as Thracian whirlwinds blow about)  
o'er the skies covered face, and darkness wrought.  
But when wars miserable fate did fall  
Upon the foot, no doubtful field at all  
Was fought: the battle in that time was done,  
That men could die: for forth they could not run  
To make their flight, enclosed on every side  
From far by darts directly thrown they died,  
Obliquely near: not wounds alone they feel  
O'erwhelmed with storms of darts, & weight of steel:  
Pent up in a strait room the army's kept:  
Those that for fear nearest to the middle crept,  
Amongst their fellow's swords are not secure,  
For the forefront not able to endure  
The foes assault, slept back, and straighter made  
The Globe: no room to wield their arms they had:  
Their crowded limbs are pressed: one armed breast  
Against another driven to death is pressed.  
The conquering Mauritanian could not have  
So glad a spectacle as fortune gave;  
He saw no bodies fall: no streams of blood,  
Kept so by crowd upright the bodies stood.  
Let Fortune this new parentation make  
For hated Carthages dire spirits sake:  
Let bloody Hannibal, and Punic ghosts  
Of this sad Roman expiation boast.  
Let not in Lybia, gods, a Roman fall  
For Pompey or the Senate make at all:  
Us rather for herself let Africa  
Conquer: his men o'erthrown when Curio saw,  
And the dust laid with blood gave leave to see,  
Scorning t'outlive such a calamity,  
Or hope in flight, he meet his death, to dye  
Forward, and valiant by necessity.  
What now avails thy place, and troubled bars,  
From whence a Tribune to seditious wars  
Thou stirr'dst the people, and the Senate's right  
Betray'dst, and couldst to civil war incite  
The son, and father in law? thy death is wrought  
Before these Lords have in Pharsalia fought.  
To see that field is not permitted thee.  
This satisfaction in your bloods give ye  
Great ones, to wretched Rome, and pay for war;  
Oh happy Rome, and Romans happier far.  
Would but the gods above as careful be  
To keep, as to revenge our liberty.  
Unburied Curio's noble flesh is food  
For Libyan birds: but (since 'twill do no good  
To conceal that, which from time's injury  
Fame still will vindicate) we'll give to thee  
The praise that to thy life does appertain.  
Rome never nurtured a more able man,  
Nor one to whom (whilst good) the laws owed more:  
But vice then hurt our city, when the store  
Of wealth, Ambition, Riot had declined  
To the worst part his yet unsettled mind,  
And changed Curio the state's fate controlled  
Bribed by the spoils of France, and Caesar's gold.  
Though potent Sylla, and fierce Marius,  
Cinna, and Caesar's line got rule o'er us  
By sword: to whom did such power ever fall?  
This man sold Rome, the other bought it all.  
FINIS, Libri quarts.   

Annotations on the fourth Book:  
(a) For this conquest much availed Caesar, having quieted Spain he might securely prosecute the rest of the war, having debarred Pompey of those legions on which he most relied, this conquest cost little blood, for Afranius and Petreius forced by famine yielded to Caesar.  
(b) Afranius and Petreius with equal power, with mutual love and care governed five legions for Pompey in Spain, and chose Ilerda by the appointment of Pompey as a convenient seat for the war.  
(c) The Celtaes leaving France and passing the Pyren●an mountains seated themselves by the river Iberus, and were called Celt●beri.  
(d) Cinga falling into Iber loses his name to Iber, which also gives name to all Spain.  
(e) Afranius, and Petreius, when Caesar's horsemen had stopped their ways of foraging and fetching in Corn, and withal frighted, because many cities in that part had revolted to Caesar, and the rest were like to follow their example, resolved to transserre the war into Celtiberia, which remained yet in the friendship of Pompey, at having received great benefits from him in the Sertorian war; besides they supposed that the fame of Caesar was yet more obscure among those barbarous people: therefore at the third watch they secretly dislodged, and passing over the river Sicoris they marched with speed toward Iberus. When Caesar by his scouts understood this, and hearing that beyond there were mountainous, straight, and rugged passages, which if the enemy should first enter, they might with ease keep him back, and car●y the war into Celtiberia, and those far countries, he commanded his horsemen with speed to prevent them, and himself marching through devious, and rough ways, arrived first at those places, and encamped himself between Afranius and the river Iberus, which Afranius was marching to the two camps were here fortified so near, to each other, that the Soldiers distinctly knew each others faces, and talked with their kindred, and ancient acquaintance,  
(f) In this appeared a strange clemency of Caesar, that after he had heard the cruelty of Petrejus towards his Soldiers, how taking them from their friend's company, (that had upon promise secured them) he caused them to be murdered (as the Poet relates plainly) Caesar notwithstanding seeking out Petrejus his soldiers in his camp, spared their lives all, and suffered as many of them as would to depart: but many Tribunes, Centurions, and others would not retune, but stayed, and served after under Caesar.  
(g) It was a policy had often been used by barbarous enemies against the pursuing armies of the Romans, to poison all their river: it was done by Ingurtha King of Numidia, Mithradates King of Pontus, and juba King of Mauritansa.  
(h) These two Generals, Afranius and Petrejus, though they were here pardoned by Caesar, upon promise to serve no more against him; did notwithstanding afterwards in the African war follow Scipio against Caesar, where they were again overthrown. Afranius was taken prisoner, and by Caesar's command and was slain. Petrejus despairing of pardon (as is afterwards shown) slew himself upon King Iuba's sword.  
(ay) Fortune yet presumed to do somewhat against Caesar in his absence above about Illyrium; for Dolabella and Antonius commanded by Caesar to possess the Strenghts of the Adriaticke sea encamped one on the Illyrian, the other on the Corcyraan share. Pompey far and near was master of the seas, whose Lieutenant Octavius and Libo with great strength of shipping besieged Antonius, and by famine forced him to yield. Basilus from the other shore sent ships to aid Antonius, which were caught by the Pompeyans in a strange snare casting ropes cross the sea under water not to be spied. Two of the ships escaped, and got over the ropes, the third which carried the men of Opitergium was ensnared, and held fast. The Opit●rgians in that place left an example memorable to all posterity; for being scarce a thousand men, they endured from morning to night the assaults of a great Army round about them, and at last when valour could not possible release them, rather than yield themselves into the enemy's hands, by the exhortation of their captain Vultejus, all killed themselves.  
(k) In Africa also the side of Caesar enduring the like calamity showed the like valour. Curio sent by Caesar to win Libyae, having vanquished, and put to flight Varus, was enclosed on the sudden by the unexpected horsemen and army of juba King of Mauritania. Curio might have fled when he saw the day lost, but much ashamed, and scorning to return to Caesar after the loss of his legions, he died with all his men.   

LUCAN'S Pharsalia. The First Book.  
The Argument.  
Rome's flying Senate met at Epire, chose  
Great Pompey general, faint Appius goes  
To Delphos Oracle to seek advise,  
Which his own death obscurely signifies.  
Caesar returned from Spain with victory  
Quiets his Soldier's dangerous mutiny:  
Dictator then, and Consul both at Rome  
He makes himself, sails from Brundisium  
To Greece▪ but vexed with Anthony's delays,  
In a small boat himself alone assays  
By night the stormy sea, and crosses over.  
His legions all met on the Grecian shore  
Address themselves for trial of the day.  
Pompey to Lesbos sends his wife away.  
THus fortune kept (mixing her good with ill)  
The two (a) war-wounded generals equal still  
For Macedonia; when with Winter's snow  
The Pleyades did Oemus top bestrow:  
And when the times new-naming day drew near  
Old janus' feast beginner of the year:  
Then both the Consuls at the utmost date  
Of their expiring honour convocate  
To Epire the fled fathers; where a plain  
And foreign seat Rome's Nobleses did contain:  
A borrowed court in foreign land heard all  
The secrets of the State. For who can call  
That place a camp, where all Rome's Fasces were,  
And axes borne? The reverend order there  
Taught all the people 'twas not Pompey's side,  
But Pompey there a member did abide.  
Silence possessing the sad Senate than,  
From an high seat thus Lentulus began:  
If you retain a strength of mind as good  
As Roman spirits, and your ancient blood  
Befitts; then think not in what land you are  
As banished, from surprised Rome how far:  
But know the face of your own company:  
Fathers, that govern all, this first decree,  
Which yet all kingdoms, and all people know,  
We are the Senate. For if fortune now  
Should carry us under the frozen wain  
Of Vrsa ma●or, or where days remain  
Equal in length with nights, the torrid zone,  
Thither the Empire and dominion  
Would follow us▪ When Rome by Gauls was fired,  
And that to Vey Camillus was retired:  
There then was Rome; this order never lost  
Their right by changing place. Caesar can boast  
Only of mourning walls possession,  
And judgement seats by sad vacation  
Shut up, and silenced, empty mansions.  
That court those fathers only sees, whom once,  
When full, it banished; of that rank, who ere  
Is not a banished man, is sitting here.  
We that long peaceful, free from guilt have stood,  
At wars first fury were dispersed abroad:  
Now to his place each part returns again;  
And for the loss of Italy and Spain  
The gods the strength of all the world bestow.  
Th'Illyrian Sea has overwhelmed one foe:  
And Libyan fields does slaughtered Curio  
No little part of Caesar's Senate strew.  
Advance your Eagles, follow fate, and grant  
The gods your hope: do not that courage want  
In this good fortune, which when first you fled,  
Your cause stirred up. The year has finished  
Our power: you fathers, whose authorityes  
No time shall end, for th'public good advise:  
Command great Pompey to be general;  
His name with joyful cries the Senate all  
Receive, imposing upon Pompey strait  
His country's, and his own most wretched fate.  
Then faithful Kings, and Nations had their praise▪  
Phoebus sea-powerfull Rhodes rewarded was,  
And Spartans rough; praised were th'Athenians▪  
(b) Phocis made free with her Massylians.  
Faithful (c) Deiotarus, young Sadalis,  
The valiant (d) Cotys, and (e) Rhasipolis  
Of Macedon were praised; juba to thee  
The Senate gives all Libya by decree;  
And (oh sad fare) ignoble Ptolemy,  
Worthy of treacherous subjects, unto thee  
The crime of all the gods, and fortune's shame,  
Is granted the Pellaean diadem.  
A tyrant's sword over thy nation  
Thou tak'st, proud boy, would 'twere o'er them alone▪  
Ore (f) Pompey's throat it is; thy sister's crown  
Thou tak'st, and Caesar's impious action.  
The Senate now broke up, the troops all take  
Their arms: the people, and the captains make  
For wars uncertain preparation.  
But (g) Appius fears wars doubtful chance alone  
Soliciting the gods th' events to hear,  
And Phoebus' Temple, that for many a year  
Had been shut up at Delphos, opens he.  
Parnassus with two tops reaching the sky  
'twixt East, and West equally distant lies  
To Bacchus, and Apollo's deities  
Sacred: to whom in mixed sacrifice  
The Theban wives at Delphos solemnize  
Their trieterickes; this one hill alone  
Appeared, when all the world was overflown,  
And stood as middle 'twixt the sea and sky.  
One top, Parnaffus, then contented thee:  
For one alone did above water show.  
Young Phoebus there with shafts unused slew  
The speckled Python, that in wait long lay  
His banished mother great with child to slay;  
Themis the kingdom then, and Tripos held.  
But when (h) Apollo the cleft ground beheld  
T'inspire oraculous truth, and further finds  
The gaping earth exhale prophetic winds:  
down in that sacred cave himself he hides  
And now turned Prophet there Apollo bides  
Which of the gods lurks here? what deity  
Shot down from heaven vouchsafes to dignify  
This cave? what heavenly god dwells here below,  
That does the fates eternal courses know,  
And things to come? and telling people sure  
Vouchsafes the touch of woman to endure?  
Whether this powerful god barely relate  
The fates, or his relation make them fate?  
Perchance that spirit, that all the world maintains,  
And the poised earth in empty air sustains,  
Through these Cirrhaean caves does passage get.  
Striving with his aethereal part to meet.  
This spirit once entered the virgin's breast,  
Striking her humane soul, sounds forth expressed  
With hideous noise; so urging flames come from  
Sicilian Aetna's over burdened womb:  
Typhaeus so throws up his stones abroad  
Pressed with Inarime's eternal load.  
This god exposed to all, denied to none,  
Is freed from hearing human crimes alone.  
To him no man whispers unlawful prayers;  
For he things fixed unchangeable declares,  
Forbidding men to wish: and graciously  
Gives just men dwellings, though whole towns they be,  
As once to Tyre; he teaches us wars slight,  
As to th' Athenians in their naval fight  
At Salamine; he clears, the causes shown,  
Earth's barrenness, and air's infection.  
Our age no gift of heaven wants more than this  
Of Delphos oracle, which silent is,  
Since King's afraid to have their fates expressed,  
Forbid the gods to speak; nor is the Priest  
Of Delphos, for the god's long silence sad:  
This Oracle's cessation makes them glad.  
For to that breast, where ere he do inspire,  
Untimely death is punishment or hire  
Of his reception, the fitt's vehemence  
Too much o'ercomes the strength of human sense;  
And their frail souls the god's high motion shakes,  
Appius, whilst too too near a search he makes  
To know Rome's fate, to th' unstirred Tripodes,  
And silent caverns does his steps address,  
The Priest commanded t'ope that dreadful seat,  
And for the god a prophetess to get,  
Finds young Phemonoe, as she careless roves  
'Mongst the Castalian springs, and silent groves,  
And makes her break the Temple doors. The maid  
To stand in that most horrid place afraid,  
Thought by a vain deceit Appius to bring  
From his desire of knowing future things.  
Why hop'st thou, Roman, truth should here be shown?  
The hill (quoth she) is mute, the god is gone  
Whether the spirit have left these caverns quite,  
And to the world's far regions ta'en his flight:  
Or Phytho burnt by barbarous Brennus up  
Did with the ashes fill this hole, and stop  
Great Phoebus' way: or that the gods decree  
Make Cirrha mute, thinking it prophecy  
Enough that sibyl's books among you live:  
Or Phoebus wont from out his temple drive  
All wicked persons, now no mouth have found  
Worthy enough his Oracles to sound.  
The Maid's deceit appeared; her fear employed  
She falsely had the present gods denied.  
Then a white fillet ties her locks behind  
With Delphian Bays; and wreathed garlands bind  
Her hair before. The Priest thrusts on the maid.  
Who fearful still about the entrance stayed,  
And durst no nearer to the god to come,  
Nor to approach the temples inmost room.  
There counterfeiting that she was possessed  
She utters from an undisturbed breast  
Feigned words with no confused murmur flowing,  
Nor the least sign of divine fury showing.  
Her words so deeply could not Appius wound,  
As great Apollo's truth; no trembling sound  
That broke her speech, there was, no voice so shrill,  
As all the caves capacious throat might fill:  
Her Laurel fell not from her frightd hair:  
The temple and the wood unshaken were.  
These signs betrayed her fearful to receive  
The god; when angry Appius did perceive  
That 'twas no Oracle, Thou wretch, quoth he,  
Both I, and these abused gods will be  
Revenged for this, unless thou strait descend,  
And truly tell what all these stirs portend  
To the affrighted world; with that the maid  
Descends down to the Oracle afraid,  
And standing over the vault, the god possessed  
With a full spirit her unaccustomed breast.  
The rocks so many years unwasted spirit  
He fills her with, and coming to inherit  
A Delphian breast, ne'er filled he Prophetess  
Fuller: her former mind he banishes,  
And bids all woman from her breast begun.  
She raging bears in this distraction  
Not her own neck; her hair upright throws down  
The sacred ornaments, and Phoebus' crown:  
Her neck turns wildly round: & down she throws  
All tripodes she meets with as she goes.  
And with an inward fire she burns, which shows  
Thee, Phoebus' wrath: nor dost thou only use  
Thy pricks, thy flames, and incitations now,  
But bridles too, the Prophetess shall know  
More than she must reveal; all times are heaped  
up in one heap, and many ages crept  
Into her wretched breast; things orders too,  
And all contend out into light to go.  
The Fates desiring utterance strive within:  
When the world ends, and when it shall begin  
The prophetess can tell, and understands  
The Ocean's depth, and number of the sands.  
As the Cumaean Sibyl in a scorn  
Her prophecies should serve all nations turn,  
From the vast heap of universal Fate,  
With a proud hand culled out the Roman State:  
So now the Phoebus filled Phemon●●  
Strives, obscure Appius, where to find out thee  
'Mongst all the Delphian inspirations:  
Then first from her mad mouth the foaming ●unnes,  
And in the horrid cave were heard at once  
Broke-winded murmurs, howl and sad groans.  
At last these words fall from the maid o'ercome:  
Great threats of war, thou only freed from,  
Shalt in Eubaea's pleasant valleys rest.  
And there she stopped; Phoebus her speech suppressed.  
Ye Tripodes keepers of fate, that know  
All the world's secrets, and Apollo thou  
Skilled in all truth, from whom the gods conceal  
No future times, why fearest thou to reveal  
That action, that our Empire's ruin brings,  
Great Captains deaths and funerals of Kings,  
And all the people that with Rome shall bleed?  
Have not the gods this mischief yet decreed?  
Or stay those fates, whilst planets are at strife  
And doubt about condemning Pompey's life?  
Or hidest thou, fortune, to effect more sure  
Our liberties revenge, and Brutus cure  
Of monarchy again? then the maid's breast  
Should open the temple doors, and out she pressed.  
Her mad fit holds, nor had she all explain'de,  
Part of the god within her still remained.  
And round about her wand'ring eyes he rolled;  
Nor does her face one constant posture hold:  
But sometimes threatening, sometimes fearful 'tis;  
Sometimes a fiery red her countenance dies:  
Sometimes her pallid cheeks anger expressed,  
Not fear: nor can her wearied heart find rest;  
But as a while after the winds are c●as'd  
The Ocean mu●mur's; so oft so bings eased  
The maiden's breast. But 'twixt this inspired light,  
And her plain humane understandings sight  
A darkness came; Phoebus' oblivion sent;  
Then from her breasts the gods high secrets went,  
And divinations to the Tripodes  
Returned again. But when her fit 'gan cease  
She falls. Nor didst thou, beguiled ay Appius, fear  
From doubtful Oracles thy death so near;  
But in that tottering world with hopes most vain  
Thought quietly Eubaea to retain.  
Ah fool what god but death could set thee free  
Out of the world's general calamity,  
And war? there shall thy hearse entombed lie,  
And so possess Eubaea quietly,  
Where th' sea by marble-famed Carystos is  
Straightened, and pride-revenging Nemesis  
Rhamnus adores, a straightened currert strong  
That channels holds, and Eurypus along  
Bears ships by violence, changing oft his tide,  
From Chalcis to ill harbouring Aulis side.  
By this time Caesar come from conquered Spain  
With his victorious Eagles was again  
Marching (k) another way: when rate almost  
The prosperous course of his whole war had crossed;  
For conquered in no fight the general  
In his own camp 'gan fear the loss of all  
His treason's fruit, those hands that faithful still  
Had served his wars, now glutted with the fill  
Of blood, began to quit their general.  
Th'alarms tragic sounds not heard at all  
A while, and cold sheathed swords their thirst of war  
Had cooled; or else the greedy soldier  
Damning for gain both cause and general,  
Would set his blood stained sword at higher sale.  
Caesar not more in any danger tried  
How tottering and unfirme a prop his pride  
Had leaned upon, and well might stagger, reft  
Of all those soldier's hands, and almost left  
To his own sword; he that so many lands  
Had drawn to war, knows now the soldier's hands,  
Not his must do the deed. Their plaints now be  
Not dumb, nor timorous is their mutiny.  
That cause, that does suspicious minds restrain,  
Whilst each one fears, where he is feared again,  
And thinks that he himself distastes alone  
His ruler's tyranny, in this was gone.  
Their number to secure their fear is able.  
Where all offend, the crime's unpunishable.  
They pour out threats; now Caesar let us cease  
From wicked war; thou seekest by land and seas  
Swords for these throats, and upon any foe  
Wouldst our too cheap esteemed lives bestow;  
Some of us slain in war in Gallia lie,  
In Spain lie some, and some in Italy;  
o'er all the world thy army's slaughtered  
While thou orecom'st, what boots our blood that's shed  
'Gainst Gauls and Germans in the North so far?  
For all thou payest us with a civil war.  
When Rome we took, and made the Senate fly,  
What spoils from Men or Temples gathered we?  
Guilty in swords and hands, all villainy  
We go upon: virtuous in poverty  
Alone; what end is there of war at all,  
Or what can be enough, if Rome too small?  
See our grey hairs, weak hands, and bloodless arms  
Our use of life is gone; in wars alarms  
Our age consumed; send us now old at least  
To choose our deaths, this is our bad request:  
Our dying limbs on hard ground not to lay,  
Nor strike steel helmets till our dying day:  
To seek some friends to close our eyes in death;  
To get our proper Piles; our last to breath  
In our wife's arms; let sickness end our days;  
Let's under Caesar find some other ways  
Of death then sword; why hood winked lead'st thou us  
With a vain hope on acts portentous?  
As if in civil war we were not able  
To know what treason is most profitable?  
Our wars have taught him nothing, if not this,  
What we can do; nor is this enterprise  
Forbid by law; he was our general  
In th'German wars: here we are fellows all▪  
Whom treason soils, it makes of equal state.  
Besides in his unthankful aestimate  
Our valour's lost, and whatsoe'er we do  
Is called his fortune; but let Caesar know  
We are his fate. Though friended by the gods,  
Caesar is nothing if with us at odds.  
This said, about his tent they mustur all  
With angry looks seeking their general.  
So let it go, ye gods, since piety  
Forsakes us, and our hopes on vice rely,  
Let discord make an end of civil war.  
What general would not such a tumult scar?  
But Caesar; that the fates still sudden tries,  
And loves through greatest dangers t'exercise  
His fortunes, comes; nor till their rage abate  
Stays he, but meets the fury of their hate.  
Cities, and Temples spoils to them he ne'er  
Denied, though Jove's Tarpejan house it were,  
Senators wives and daughters to deflower.  
All villainies would Caesar from his power  
Have them ask freely, and wars guerdon love:  
And nothing fears, but that his men should prove  
Honest. Ah Caesar art thou not ashamed  
That civil war by thine own soldiers damned  
Should be allowed by thee? shall they first be  
Weary of blood, and hate impiety,  
Whilst thou runnest headlong on through wrong and right?  
Give over, and learn to live out of a fight;  
Give thy guilt leave to end. Why to these wars  
Dost thou enforce unwilling soldiers?  
The civil war flies from thee; on the top  
Of a turf mount stands Caesar fearless up,  
Deserving fear by his undaunted look;  
And thus, as anger prompted him, he spoke.  
Whom you with hands and looks did absent brave  
Soldiers, unarmed, and present now you have.  
here sheath your swords, if you would end the wars.  
Sedition, that no act of valour dares,  
Faint hearted fools, and flying spirits declares,  
Tired with their matchless Captain's conquering state.  
But go; leave me to war with mine own fate:  
These weapons will find hands, when I cashier  
All you, as many men, as swords are here,  
Will fortune send me; shall all Italy  
In such a fleet with vanquished Pompey fly?  
And shall my conquests not bring men to share  
The wealthy spoils of this near finished war,  
Reaping the profit of your toil, and so  
Unwounded with my laurelled chariot go?  
You an old worn, and bloodless company  
(Than Rom's plebeians) shall my triumphs see.  
Can Caesar's fortune feel the loss of you?  
If all the streams, that into th'Ocean flow,  
Should threaten to withdraw themselves; the seas  
Would by the loss of them no more decrease,  
Then now they fill. Think you that such as ye  
Can any moment to my fortunes be?  
The gods care never will so low descend,  
That fates your deaths or safeties should attend,  
The fates attend on great men's actions:  
Mankind lives for a few; and you, whom once  
Spain feared, and all the North, whilst under me,  
If Pompey were, your general would fly.  
Whilst Labienus did with Caesar stay,  
He was a man; now a base runaway  
Flies with his chosen chief o'er sea and land.  
Nor shall your faith in my opinion stand  
Better though me ye make nor enemy  
Nor general; he that revolts from me,  
And does not Pompey's faction strait maintain,  
He never will my soldier be again.  
The gods themselves over my camp have care,  
And would not venture me in such a war  
Ere I have changed my men. A burden main  
Has fortune from my weary shoulders ta'en;  
I may disarm those hands now lawfully,  
Whose boundless hopes earth could not satisfy.  
Out of my camp; I'll for myself make wars:  
Resign those Eagles up to soldiers  
Base citizens: but those that authors were  
Of this sedition, punishment shall here  
Detain, not Caesar; fall upon the ground,  
Yield your disloyal heads and necks to wound;  
And you, which now my camps sole strength shall be  
Young soldiers, learn to strike, and learn to dye.  
Viewing their death; the foolish people than  
'Gan tremble at his anger; and one man  
Made all them fear▪ who had it in their hand  
To ruin him, as if he could command  
The swords themselves, and without soldiers make  
His wars; but in this punishment to lack  
Assisting swords he fears: they patient all  
Exceed the hope of their stern General;  
Not only swords, but throats they offer; he  
Fears nought but 'batement of their cruelty.  
A (l) covenant dire this quarrel does decide,  
With punishment the army's pacified.  
In ten days march to reach Brundisium  
He bids them strait, and call all shipping home,  
That on crooked Hydrus, and old Taras then,  
Leucas close shores, and the Salapian fen  
Dispersed were, and Sypus, o'er which stands  
Fruitful Garganus on Italian lands  
Reaching the Adriatic, and their tastes  
Dalmation North, Portuguese Southern blasts.  
Caesar without his troops goes safe alone  
To trembling Rome now taught to serve a gown,  
And (kind forsooth) yields at the people's prayer  
To be dictator (m) honour's highest stair,  
And joyful Calendars, being Consul, made.  
For all those words (n) than their beginning had,  
With which ere since our Emperors we claw.  
But Caesar that his power might want no law,  
Falsely the name of Magistrate purloins,  
And to his swords the Roman axes joins,  
Fasces t'his Eagles, and with fitting shame  
Signs the sad times; for by what Consuls name  
Will the Pharsalian year be better known?  
A feigned assembly in the field is (o) shown;  
The people give their suffrages compelled,  
Not lawfully admitted, th'urns are held,  
The tribes are cited; voices thrown in vain  
Into the vene; the Augurs deaf remain  
Though loud it thunder, and are forced to swear  
That birds auspicious, though sad owls, appear.  
Thence that once honoured power her dignity  
First lost; but left the times unnamed should be,  
Our Calendars do (p) monthly Consuls fill.  
That god that dwells on Trojan Alba's hill  
Though not deserving (Latium conquered) sees  
The Consuls solmne nightly sacrifice.  
Caesar departing thence runs forward right  
Swifter than whelpe-robbed Tiger, or the flight  
Of lightning o'er Apulia, where the field  
Unplowed no cerne, but slothful grass does yield.  
And come to Cretan crooked Brundisium finds  
The sea unsaileable for dangerous winds,  
And the fleet fearful of cold winter's face.  
He thinks it shame thus to delay the space  
Of war, and keep the haven, when the sea  
Lies open to men less fortunate than he,  
And thus persuades his men to try the seas:  
The Northern winds more constantly possess  
Both air and Ocean, when they once begin,  
Then those which the unconstant spring brings in.  
We have no turnings different shores upon,  
Our way's forth right; the North wind serves alone.  
Would he would stuff our sails, bending our mas●●  
And force us upon Greece with furious blasts,  
Lest Pompey's galleys from Dyrrachium meet  
With their swift oars our becalmed fleet.  
Then cut the cables, that our fleet do stay,  
We lose the storms, these clouds will pass away.  
Now in the Sea bright Sol had hid his head,  
And stars appeared, the moon her shadows spread:  
The fleet at once weighed anchor, and drew out  
The sails at length, which strait they turned about  
To the ships length and spread the topsailes too,  
To lose no gust of wind that ever blue.  
When a soft gale had made the sails to swell,  
For a short space, down to the mast they fell●  
Again; that wind, that put them from the shore,  
Was able now to follow them no more.  
The seas flat face now all becalmed lies  
Like standing pools; no waves, no billows rise.  
So bridled is the Euxine sea, whose course  
Ister, nor Thracian Bosphorus can force:  
The frozen sea lets go those ships no more,  
That once it takes; the horses trample over  
Safely where ships have sailed; the Bessians  
Furrow Maeotis frozen back with wanes,  
This cruel calm does the sad Ocean make  
(As if the seas their nature did forsake)  
Like standing pools, th'Ocean observes no more  
His ancient course; he had forgot to roar:  
No tides flow to and fro, nor seems the Sun  
To dance upon the water's motion.  
To many dangers this becalmed fleet  
Is subject; on one side they fear to meet  
Pompey's swift galleys; on the other side  
Detained at sea a famine to abide.  
From these new fears arose a new desire:  
They wish the Ocean would collect his ire,  
And all the winds would wrestle, so it were  
No calm; but no such signs, no clouds appear:  
The skies, and seas conspired to take away  
All hope of shipwreck; but th'ensuing day  
All clouded ore did comfortable prove:  
Waves from th' seas bottom rose; hills seemed to move.  
The ships were borne away, and as they swim  
The waves in crooked furrows follow them.  
With prosperous winds, and seas they reach the land,  
And anchor cast upon Palestes sand.  
The place, where first both generals (q) camps did pitch  
Near to each other, was that region, which  
Swift Genusus, and gentle Apsus round  
Encompass; Apsus, because slow, profound,  
And navigable is: the other flows  
(Increased by showers, and sun-dissolved snows)  
More swift; both channels are but short, not far  
From sea the springs of both these rivers are.  
here fortune first those two famed Heroes brought  
Together; the vaine-hoping world had thought  
The generals now no farther off removed  
Thus wicked war would both have disaproved;  
Each others face they saw, and well might hear  
Each others voice; ah Pompey, many a year  
Not nearer did thy once loved father in law,  
Since that dear pledge the death of julia,  
And her young son, see thee, till stained with gore  
He saw thy face on Egypt's cursed shore.  
But part of Caesar's (r) forces left behind  
Made him protract the battle though his mind  
Were fierce on fight; those bold (s) Antonius led,  
In civil wars now under Caesar bred  
For Leucas fight; whom making long delay  
With threats, and prayers thus Caesar calls away:  
Thou mischief of the world, why dost thou waste  
The gods, and fates good will? my prosperous ha●●  
Has done all hitherto, fortune from thee  
Requires the last hand to this speedily  
Successful war; do Libya's quicksands lie,  
Or her devouring gulfs 'twixt thee and me?  
Have I committed thee to unknown seas,  
Or sent thee on untried casualtyes?  
Caesar commands thee not, coward, to go,  
But follow him; myself here, where the foe  
Encamped lies, am first arrived now.  
Fearest thou my camp? we lose what fates bestow:  
And to the winds, and seas I bootless plain.  
My forward soldiers do not thou detain,  
That would take any seas, if I judge right,  
They'd come through shipwreck under me to fight.  
Now I must speak in grief, the world I see  
Is not divided 'twixt us equally,  
In Epire Caesar, and th' whole Senate rest,  
Thou art alone of Italy possessed.  
But having often used such words as those,  
They still delaying, Caesar 'gan suppose  
The gods not wanting unto him, but he  
To them: and rashly did resolve to try  
By night those seas, which they for fear forbore  
Although, commanded, finding evermore  
Bold actions thrive; and hopes in a (t) small boat  
T'o'ercome those waves whole navyes ventured not.  
Now weary night wars toilsome cares did end:  
Poor men took rest, whose mean estates could lend  
Their breasts sound sleep; the camp all silent proved,  
When the third hour the second watch had moved.  
With careful steps through this vast silence than  
Caesar, what not the meanest of his men  
Would do, intends; leaves all, and goes alone  
With none but fortune his companion:  
And passing through the courts of guard, he finds  
All fast asleep, complaining in his mind  
That he could pass; but at the water side  
He found a boat with a small cable tied  
Fast to a rock: the man that owed, and kept  
This boat, not far from thence securely slept  
In a small cottage of no timber trees,  
But woven reeds, and barren bulrushes  
Built up: a boate's turned bottom did suffice  
To fence his wall. There Caesar twice or thrice  
Knocked with his hand that all the cottage shaked:  
From his soft bed of sedge Amyclas waked,  
What shipwrecked man, quoth he, knocks there, or whom  
Has fortune driven to my poor house to come  
For shelter? speaking thus he rose from bed,  
And his fired match with better suell fed,  
Secure from fear of war: such houses are  
(Full well he knows) no spoil for civil war.  
Oh safe blessed poor man's life, oh gift of all  
The gods, not yet well known; what city wall,  
What temple had not feared at Caesar's stroke?  
But when the door was open, thus Caesar spoke:  
Enlarge thy hopes, poor man, expect to have  
More wealth from me then modesty can crave:  
Only transport me to th' Italian shore,  
This trade of living thou shalt need no more,  
No more shall labour thy poor age sustain.  
Yield to thy fate; a god is come to rain  
down showers of wealth thy little house upon.  
Thus Caesar, though disgui●d, forgetts the tone  
Of private men, when poor Amyelas made  
This answer; many things (al●s dissuade  
My mind from trusting of the seas to night.  
The Sun set pale, his beams dispersed; whose light  
Partly to North, and partly South inclined.  
The middle of his orb but dimn ely shined,  
And dazzled not the weak beholders eyes:  
With dulled horns did the pale move arise,  
Not free from clouds her middle part she had:  
Her pointed ends no horn directly made:  
First red betokening winds, ●●en pale sh●was,  
And in dark clouds obscured her mourning face.  
But the shor●s folse, the murmur of the woods,  
The Dolphins playing up and down the floods  
With course uncertain I mislike no more  
Like I their Cormorant's flocking to the shore:  
Nor that the Herne ●n her smooth wing relying  
Presumes to rea●h the skies with lofty flying;  
No that the Crow wagling along the shore  
Dives down, and seems t'anti●ipate a shower.  
But if affairs of weight requi●e mine aid,  
To use my skill I will not be afraid;  
Either the winds, and seas shall it deny,  
O● I will reach the shore of Italy.  
This said, losing his vessel he puts on,  
And spreads his sails, at whose first motion  
Not only th'usual falling stars did make  
In the dark air a long and fiery track,  
But even those stars, which make their fixed abode  
In th' higheast spheres, did seem to sha●e and nod.  
The seas black face a terror does diffuse,  
The threatening waves in tracks voluminous  
Boil up; the seas by blasts uncertain blown  
Betoken many wind's conception  
Then thus the master spoke; behold how great  
A danger the sea teems withal: as yet  
Uncertain tis what winde rough East or West  
Shall come; the ba●ke's on every side distressed  
With several waves; the clouds and skies express  
The Southwindes' rage: the murmur of the seas  
The Northwest wind, in such a storm to shore  
Not safe, nor shipwrecked can we ere get over,  
No course but one of safety do●s remain,  
Hopeless to steer our courses back again.  
Let's set our dangered bark a land, before  
We are too far gone from the Grecian shore.  
Caesar presuming that all dangers great  
Would yield to him, contemn quoth he, the threat  
Of raging seas; spread sails, and if the sky  
Warrant thee not to go for ●taly,  
I'll warrant thee; the just cause, why thou fearest  
Is this, because thou knowst not whom thou bearest:  
Him whom the gods never forsake; to whom  
Fortune accounts it injury to come  
After his wish; break through the waves; alone  
Think thyself safe in my protection.  
These are the troubles of the seas and skies,  
Not of our bark this bark, where Caesar is,  
Her carriage shall protect; nor long shall this  
Storm last: but happy for the Ocean 'tis  
This bark is here. Oh turn not back thy hand,  
Nor think upon Epire's adjoining land;  
Think on Calabria's shore safe to arrive,  
Since no land else to me can safety give.  
Alas thou knowest not why these terrors rise;  
In all these tumults of the seas and skies  
Does fortune strive to pleasure me. No more  
He spoke; when strait a furious whirlwind tore  
From the rent bark her shrouds, and down it flung  
The sails, that on the trembling mainemast hung.  
The joint dissolved vessel sounds, when lo  
Winds full of danger from all quarter's blow:  
First from th' Atlantike Ocean Corus' blows  
Rolling the waves and raised billows throws  
With violence against the rocks amain:  
Him Boreas meets, and turns them back again;  
The sea stands doubtful, to what wind to yield;  
But Scythian Boreas fury wins the field;  
But though high waves he from the bottom rear,  
Yet to the shore those waves he cannot bear;  
They meet with those that Corus brings, and break  
The seas thus raised (though now the winds were weak)  
Would meet themselves. Nor must you now surmise  
Eurus is still, or showre-blacke Notus lies  
Imprisoned close in Aeal's rocky cave  
They from their several quarters rush to save  
With furious blasts their lands from being drowned,  
And keep the sea within his proper bound.  
For oft (they say) small seas by violent wind  
Have been transported: so th' Aegaean joined  
With the Tyrrhene: so with th' jerman  
The Adriatic met. How oft in vain  
That day the sea seemed mountains tops to ' o'er flow▪  
And yielding earth that deluge t' undergo.  
But such high waves on no shore raised be,  
But from the world's far part, and the main sea  
They roll; the earth embracing waters bring  
Their monstrous waves, so wh●n the heavens high king  
Helped his tired thunder with his ●rotheis mace  
To mankind's ●uine, earth then added was  
To Neptune's kingdom, when the sea confounded,  
All lands, and Tethys by no shore was bounded,  
Contented with no limit but the skies  
Then also would those ●welling seas arise  
Upto the stars; had not great jove kept down  
Their waves with clouds, nor sprung that night alone  
From natural causes; the thi●ke air was grown  
Infected with the damps of Acheron,  
And clogged with foggy storms, waves from the main  
Fly to the clouds, and fall like showers again.  
The lightning's light is lost; it shines not clear,  
But shoots obscurely through nights stormy air.  
The heavens than trembled; the high pole for fear  
Resounded, when his hinges moved were.  
Nature then feared the old confusion:  
The elemental concord seemed undone;  
And night, that mixed th'aethereal deities  
With the infernal, ●eem'd again to rise;  
Their hope of safety was that in this great  
Wrack of the world they were not perished yet.  
As far as you from Leucas top may see  
The quiet sea, so far could they descry  
From waves high tops the troubled Ocean;  
But when the swelling billows fall again,  
The mainmast top scarce above water stands:  
The topsailes touch the clouds, the keel the sands.  
For ground is seen from whence the s●as arise  
In hills; in waves the seas whole water is.  
Fear conquers art: the master does not know  
Which wave to break, which wave to yield unto.  
But the seas discord only aids them now;  
The bark one billow cannot overflow  
Let by another's force, which still sustains  
The yielding side; the bark upright maintains  
Her course, supported by all winds, no more  
Low Sasons' gulfs, Thessalia's crooked shore,  
Or the Ambracian dangerous ports they feared,  
But o'er the high Ceraunia to be reared  
●y billows; Caesar thinks it now to be  
A danger worthy of his destiny;  
Are the gods troubled so to ruin me,  
Whom sitting here in a small bark (quoth he)  
They have assaulted with a storm so loud?  
If on the seas, not wars they have bestowed  
The glory of my death, fearless I come  
Ye gods, to any death that ye can doom:  
Though this too hasty fate great acts break off,  
I have already done things great enough;  
The Northern nations I have tamed, and quelled  
My foes at home by arms: Rome has beheld  
Great Pompey my inferior; honours stayed  
From me in war, the people forced have paid,  
All Roman honours in my titles be.  
Let it be known, fortune, to none but thee  
(Though full of honour to the shades below  
I both Rome's Consul, and Dictator go)  
I die a private death, o gods I crave  
No funeral: let the seas inmost wave  
Keep my torn carcase let me want a tomb,  
And funeral pile whilst looked for still to come  
Into all lands I am, and ever feared.  
Thus having spoke (most strange) the tenth wave reared  
His bark aloft; nor from the billow's top  
Did she fall down, kept by the water up,  
Till on the rocky shore she stood at last.  
His fortune, and so many kingdoms (cast  
On shore) and towns again he did receive.  
Caesar's return next morn could not deceive  
His soldiers so, as his stolen flight had done;  
About their general flock they every one  
Assaulting him with lamentations,  
And not ingrateful accusations;  
Wither did thy rash valour carry thee  
Too cruel Caesar? to what destiny  
Didst thou leave us poor souls, venturing upon  
Th' unwilling seas, and storms thyself alone?  
In thee to seek for death was cruelty,  
When all the world esteems thy head so high,  
And on thy life so many lives of ours  
Depend; did none of us deserve t'have power  
Not to survive thee? sleep did us detain,  
While thou wert tossed upon the watery maine.  
Was this the cause thou wentest to Italy?  
(Alas it shames us) it was cruelty  
To venture any man on such a sea;  
For the last act of things such hazards be.  
Why dost thou tyre the gods so much to go,  
And venture the world's greatest Captain so;  
From fortune's work, and favour thus t'have sent  
Thee safe a shore to us, be confident.  
Of the wars issue. This use dost thou make  
Of the god's favour to escape a wrack,  
Rather than gain the world's sole sovereignty?  
Thus while they talk, night past, the Sun they see,  
And a clear day; his waves the tired maine  
(By the winds leave) composed, and smoothed again.  
The Captains also on th' Italian side  
When the t●r'd Ocean free from waves they spied  
By the pure Northwinds rising; thence conveyed  
Their ships, which their skilled Mariners had stayed  
So long for fear while winds auspicious failed.  
Like a land army their joined navy sailed  
On the broad Sea; but the changed winds by night  
Filled not their sails, but broke the order quite.  
So Cranes in Winter Strymon's cold forsake  
To drenke warms Nile, and in their first flight make  
(As chance directs) of letters various forms;  
When their spread wings are by the violent storms  
Of strong Southwindes assailed, by and by  
●n a confused globe all mingled fly:  
The letter's lost in their disranked wings.  
But the next morn when rising Titan brings  
A stronger wind to drive the navy over,  
They pass the vain attempted Lissus shore,  
And to Nymphaeum come: Southwinds that blow,  
The haven on them (the Northwindes fled) bestow.  
When Caesar's legions all collected were,  
And Pompey saw the war was drawn so near  
To his own camp, he thinks best to provide  
For his wiuff safety, and in Lesbos hide  
Thee, fair Cornelia, from the noise of war.  
Alas in just and noble minds how far  
Prevails true love? true love alone had power  
To make great Pompey fear wars doubtful hour;  
His wife alone he wished free from that stroke,  
That all the world, and Rome's whole fortune shook.  
But now a ready m●nd wants words in him:  
He yields to sweet delays; from fare steals time.  
But when th'approaching morn had banished rest,  
And fair Cornelia his care-wounded breast  
Clasping, from her averted husband seeks  
A loving kiss, wondering to feel his cheeks  
Moistened with tears; t● hidden cause she fears,  
And da●es not fin● great Pompey shedding tears.  
He then thus mourning spoke: oh dearest wife,  
Dearer to me then life, not now, when life  
I loathe, but in our best prosperity,  
That sad day's come which too too mu●h have we,  
Yet not enough d●fferr'd. Caesar's addressed  
For fight; thou must not stay; Lesbos the best,  
And safest place will be for thee to hide;  
Do not en●treat me sweet; I have denied  
It to myself; nor absent long shall we  
Remain, for swift will this wars trial be,  
Great things fall speedily. To hear, not see  
Thy Pompey's d●nger is enough so thee  
Thy love deceives me, if thou couldst endure  
To see this fight; for me to sleep secure  
With thee (this war begun) ●nd from thine arms  
To rise, were shame, when the wars loud alarms  
Shake all the world, and that thy Pompey came  
Sad with no loss to such a war were shame.  
Nor shall thy husband's fortune all together  
Oppress thee, far removed safer than either  
People or king. And should the gods contrive  
My death, let Pompey's better part survive,  
And a place be, whither I may desire,  
If fate and Caesar vanquish, to retire.  
Her weakness could of such great grief contain,  
Her senses fled, she did amazed remain.  
At length when sad complaints these words could frame,  
My Lord, quoth she, I have no cause to blame  
Our wedlock's fortune, or the gods above:  
No death, no funeral divides our love:  
We part the common, and plebeian way,  
For fear of war Cornelia must not stay.  
Let's be divorced to gratify the foe,  
Since he's at hand. Pompey esteemest thou so  
My faith, or think'st thou any thing can be  
Safer to me then thee? Depend not we  
Upon one chance? canst cruel thou command  
Thy absent wife this ruins shock to stand?  
Or think'st thou it a happy state for me  
(While thy chance yet does doubtful stand) to dye  
For fear of future ill? I will attend  
Thy death; but till sad fame the news can send  
So far, shall be forced to survive.  
Besides thou wilt accustom me to grieve,  
And bear so great a sorrow, as I fear  
(Pardon that I confess) I cannot bear.  
And if the good gods hear my prayers now,  
I last of all the happy news shall know.  
I on the rocks, when thou art conqueror,  
Shall careful sit, and even that ship shall fear,  
That brings the happy news: nor will my fear  
Have end, so soon as I thy conquest hear▪  
So far removed from thee, that Caesar may  
(Though flying) seize Cornelia as a pray.  
My banishment will Lesbos shore renown▪  
And make the town of Mitylene known,  
Where Pompey's wife abides. My last request  
Is this, if thou be conquered, and nought rest  
To s●u● thy life but flight, to any bay  
Rather than that turn thy unhappy way.  
Upon my shore thou wilt be surely sought  
This said, from bed she leapt with grief distraught,  
Her woes with no delays to interlace;  
Nor could she then her Lord's sad breast embrace,  
Nor hang about his neck; the last fruite's gone  
Of so long love: their griefs they hasten on:  
And at the parting neither had the power  
To say farewell. Never so sad an hour  
In all their life had they Succeeding woes  
Their minds by custom hardened could compose.  
She fainting falls, and in her servant's hands  
Lifted is borne to sea, but on the sands  
She falls, as if that shore she fain would keep,  
At last perforce she's carried to the ship▪  
From her dear country's shore not so distressed  
Fled she, when Caesar Italy possessed.  
With Pompey then she went: now all alone  
Wanting that guide; she from her Lord is gone.  
Sleepless she spent in her now widowed bed  
Cold, and alone, the night that followed.  
That side that naked used not to be left,  
Is of a husband's company bereft.  
Oft would she, when her sleepy arms she spread,  
With hands deceived embra●e the empty bed,  
Seeking her Lord, her flight she would forget;  
For, though l●ues flame-fed on her marrow, yet  
o'er all the bed she would not tumbling spread.  
Fearing to miss her Lord, that part of bed  
She kept; but fate did not so well ordain;  
The howrs at hand that brings her Lord again.  
FINIS. Libri quints.   

Annotations on the fifth Book:  
(a) Pompey's losses, as we saw before in the 2.3. and 4. Books were these, all his garrisons beaten cut of Italy, and himself driven from thence; Massilia sacked: all Spain lost, together with his army under the conduct of Afrarius and Petrejus Caesar's losses a cohort of Opitergians, wh●ch killed themselves on the Illyrian sea with their captain Vulteius, and Curio killed by king juba.  
(b) Phocis was then made free as well as Massilia her colony, which Caesar besieged.  
(c) Dejotarus king of Galatia brought to the army of Pompey six hundred horsemen.  
(d) Cotys king of Thracia sent to the Army five hundred horsemen under the conduct of his s●●ne Sadalis.  
(e) R●asipolis brought from Macedonia two hundred horsemen  
(f) Ptolemey defrauded his sister Cleopatra of her share in the kingdom, and in killing Pompey, saved Caesar the doing of that impious act.  
(g) Appius the Governor of A●haia desirous to know the event of the civil war, compelled the chief Priest of Delphos to descend to the Oracle, which had not of a long time been used  
(h) In the midst of the hill there was a deep hole into the earth, out of which came a cold spirit, as it were a wind, and filled the Prophetesses with a fury, so that they instantly prophesied of things to come.  
ay Appius thinking this oracle had warned him only to abstain from this war, retired himself into that country which lieth between R●am●u●, and Caryst●s called Cala Eub●a, where before the battle of Ph●rsalia he died of a disease, and was there buried, and so possessed quietly the place which the Oracle had promised him.  
(k) Caesar was now returned to Placentia from Spain, Where he had conquered Afranius and Petrejus two of Pompey's Lieutenants, and was going from thence into Epire and Macedonia against Pompey; in the mean time this mutiny happened  
(l) Caesar cashiered with ignominy all the ninth legion at Placentia; and with much ado after many prayers received them again, but not without taking punishment of the chief muten●ers.  
(m) Caesar made himself Dictator at Rome without any lawful election, that is, neither named by the Senate nor Consul; but eleven days after he left his Dictatorshippe, having made himself and Publius Servilius Consuls.  
(n) Then began all those names of flattery, which they afterward used to their Emperors, as Diws, Ever Augustus, Father of his country, Founder of peace, Lord, and the like.  
(o) After all government was in the hands of Caesar alone, all the ancient rites in creating of Magistrates were quite taken ●way, an imaginary face of election was in the field of Mars, the tribes were cited, but were not admitted distinctly, and in the true form to give their suffrages, the other orders were but vain; for the Emperor commended him to the Centuries whom he would have Consul, or else designed him, and chose him himself; their Augury also was abused and the Augurs interpreted every thing as they were compelled.  
(p) Under the Emperors, Consuls were oft chosen for half an year for 1.2. or 3 months.  
(q) Pompey was then is Candavia but when he heard that Caesar was come, and was possessed of Oricum, and Apollonia; he hasted to Dyrrachium Caesar pitched his tents at one side of the river Apsus, and Pompey at the other.  
(r) Caesar having landed his men the same night sent back the ships to Brundisium for Antonius to transport the rest of his legions, and his horsemen, whose slow coming made Caesar defer the fight.  
(s) This Marcus Antonius after the death of julius Caesar had war with Augustus, by whom he was vanquished in a sea fight near Leucas  
(t) When part of the army for want of Ships stayed at Brundisium, under Antonius, Gabinius and Calenus, Caesar impatient of delay resolved to go himself as a messenger to call them in a stormy night, and a little vessel, some say a boat that would bear twelve oars; but unknown to all his army he passed in a disguised habit through all the courts of guard, and went to Sea.   

LUCAN'S Pharsalia. The sixth Book.  
The Argument.  
Caesar enclosing Pompey with a fence,  
And trenches of a vast circumference  
Endures a famine, Pompey pestilence,  
Who breaking through escapes a conqueror thence.  
Brave Scaeva's valour, and admired fight.  
Into Thessalia Caesar takes his flight;  
Great Pompey follows: the description,  
And Poets tales, That Thessaly renown.  
To the dire witch Ericttho Sextus goes  
This fatal wars sad issue to disclose:  
She quickens a dead carcase, which relates  
To Sixtus ear, his and his father's fates,  
And craving then death's freedom to obtain  
●s by a magic spell dissolved again.  
WHen on near (a) hills both General's fierce (b) of fight  
Had pitched their tents, and drawn their tro●pes in sight  
And the gods saw their match: Caesar in Greece  
●cornes to take towes, or own the destinies.  
For any conquest, but his son in law's.  
The world's sad hour, that to a trial draws  
This wars maine-chance, he wishes for alone,  
That cast of fortune, that must ruin one.  
Thrice on the hills his battle he arrayed,  
And all his threatening Eagles thrice displayed,  
Showing that he would never wanting be  
T'ore●hrow the Roman state. But when he see  
No provocations could his son in law  
(Who close entrenched lay) to battle draw,  
From thence (c) he marched by woody passages,  
And close, to take Dyrrachiums' fortresses.  
Thither a nearer way great Pompey takes  
Along the shore and on high Petra makes  
His camp, to guard from thence Dyrrachium town  
Safe (without men) by her own strength alone.  
No human labour, no old structure made  
Her fence, which would (though ne'er so lofty) fade  
By force ●f war, or eating time o'ertaken.  
A strength, that by no engine can be shaken,  
Her scite, and nature give, the sea profound,  
And steep wave-breaking rocks enclose it round;  
But for on little hill an Island 'twere:  
Ship-threatning rocks sustain the walls, and there  
Th' Ionian sea raised by the southwinds blasts  
Her temples shakes, and frothy foamings casts  
o'er houses tops War-thirsty Caesar than  
Conceived (d) a cruel hope, spreading his men,  
Round on the hills from every side t' enclose  
With joined trenches his vnwar● foes:  
And all the ground surveying with his eye  
Is not content alone to fortify  
His works with brittle earth, but weighty-stone  
From quarries digs, vast rocks, houses torn down,  
And Greekish walls brought thither make a fence,  
Able the rams assaulting violence,  
And all wars furious engines to withstand;  
Hills levelled, valleys raised make even l●nd  
In Caesar's wo●kes, with trenches wide enclosed  
And tow●●d castles on the hills disposed.  
With a vast circuit he takes in the ground,  
About the pastures, woods, and shelters round  
As 'twere for dear, spreading a wide-stretched toil.  
Pompey no room, nor pasture wants; for while  
He thus enclosed by Caesar's trenches is,  
He removes camps; (so many rivers rise,  
And their whole course within this circuit run)  
And Caesar, tired going to look upon  
His works, makes often stays Let ancient tales  
To the gods work ascribe the Trojan wall;  
Let flying Parthians still admire alone  
The brittle earth-built walls of Babylon.  
As far as Tigris, and Orontes run,  
As the Assyrian Kings dominion  
Stretched in the East, a sudden work of war  
Encloses here. Lost those great labours are.  
So many h●nds would to Abydos put  
Sestos: fill up the Hellespont: and cut  
Corinth from Pelops land: and from the seas  
Take long Malea for the sa●lers ease:  
Or mend some part (though nature should deny)  
Of the world's structure. Here wars quarters lie:  
Here feeds that blood that in all lands must flow,  
The Libyan, and Thessalian overthrow.  
Wars civil fury boiles kept straight in.  
The wo●kes first structure Pompey had not seen.  
As who in midst of S●●ily safe dwell,  
When rough Pelorous barks, can never ●ell:  
As Northern Brit●ain●s c●nn●t hear the roar  
Of flowing seas against the Kentish shore.  
But when himself be●u●t to fa● he ●new  
By a vast trench, he from safe Petra drew  
His troops: and o'er the hills disposed them so.  
To keep the ranks of his besieging foe  
More thin and taken of the enclosed ground  
As much in length, as in true distance fou●d  
'twixt lofty Rome, and th' A●icinian wood,  
Where Scythian Diana's adored image stood:  
As far as Tyber's stream from Rome's walls ends  
By strait account, not as the river bends.  
No trumpets sound: piles uncommanded fly:  
Mischiefs oft done as they their javelinstry.  
Both cheifes are kept from fight b● greater care:  
Pompey because his pasture fields are bare;  
The ground he had, by ho●se or●tram●led was,  
Whose horny hooves trod down the springing grass.  
The warlike steed wearied in those barred fields,  
When the full rack provender far brought yields,  
Tasting his new-brought food falls down and dies  
Treading the ring, failed by his trembling thighs.  
Their body's waist by dire consumption;  
The unstirred air drewes moist contagion  
Into a pestilential ●loud, such breath  
Nasis exhales from her dark caves beneath;  
Such poisoned air, where buried Typhon lies,  
The ground sends forth; apace the army dies.  
The water from the air infection taking  
With costiveness to●ments the bowels aching:  
Dries their discoloured skin their blood-swolne eyes  
Do break: the fiery plague with bot●●es flies  
All o'er the face: their heavy heads fall down.  
Now more and more sudden their death was grown:  
'twixt life and death the si●kenesse has no room;  
But death does with the first faint symptoms come.  
By carcases, which all unburied lie.  
Among the living grows mortality.  
'twas all the sou●d●ers burial to be cast  
Out of the tents. This plague was stayed at last  
By blasts of strong aire-stirring Northern wind,  
Ships fraught with Corn, the shore, and sea behind.  
But Caesar free upon the spacious hills,  
No pestilence from air or water fe●les:  
But (as if strait besieged) a famine strong  
Is forced to suffer: corn as yet not sprung  
To the full height: his wretched men he sees  
Fall to beasts food, eat grass, and rob the trees  
Of leaves, and tender twigs: and venturing more  
Death-thr●atning herbs from roots unknown they tore.  
What ever they could bite, soften with heat,  
Or through their wounded palates down could get,  
And things, that human tables ne'er did know,  
Content to eat, besidged (c) their full fed foe.  
When through the trenches Pompey pleased to make  
His way, and freedom of all lands to take:  
He seeks not th' obscure time of dusky night,  
Scorning to steal a passage free from fight:  
But rather force the trenches, and break down  
The forts and pass, where ruin leads him on,  
Through swords and slaughter to enforce his way.  
The part of the near trench most fitly lay  
Minutius castle called; trees thickly set  
Making a grove obscure over shadowed it.  
Hither his Cohorts by no dust betrayed  
He led, and suddenly the walls assayed.  
So many Roman Eagles glister round  
The field at once, so many trumpets sound,  
That now to swords the victory nought owes:  
Fear had discomfited th' astonished foes  
Yet (wherein valour only could be showed)  
That ground, where first they stood, they dying strowed  
But the Pompeyans now want foes to slay:  
Whole showers of Pil●s in vain are thrown away.  
Then fire row●'d up in pitchy stuff they throw  
Upon the works: the shaken turrets bow,  
Threatening a fall, the battered bulwarks groan  
Beat by the rams impetous fury down,  
And o'er the trenches Pompey's Eagles fly  
To vindicate the Roman liberty.  
That place, which not a thousand companies,  
Nor all the strength of Caesar could surprise,  
One man alone guards from the Conquerors,  
Denying Pompey's conquest, whilst he wears  
A sword, and lives His name was Scaeva, once  
A common soldier of those legions,  
That served in Gallia: then Centurion,  
By blood promoted, to all mischief prone,  
And one that knew not in a civil war  
How great a crime the soldier's valours are.  
He when he saw his fellows leaving fight,  
And seeking out safe places for their flight,  
Whither (quoth he) base slaves, and beasts, does fear  
(Unknown to all that arms for Caesar bear).  
Drive you? can you retire without one wound?  
Or are you not ashamed not to be found  
Among the heap of men? though faith were gone,  
Anger (me thinks) should make you fight alone.  
We are the men of all, through whom the foe  
Has chose to break; let this day bloody go  
On Pompey's side. I should far happier die  
In Caesar's sight: but since the fates deny  
Him for a witness, Pompey shall commend  
My death; your breasts and throats undaunted bend  
Against their steel, and turn their weapons back.  
The dust far off is seen, this ruins crack●  
Has by this time entered our general's cares.  
We conquer, fellows; Caesar strait appears  
To challenge (though we die) this fort; his voice  
More than th' alarms first inciting noise  
Their fury stirred: then wondering at the man,  
And eager to behold the soldiers ran  
To see if valour disadvantaged so,  
Surprised by place and number could bestow  
Aught more than death. He making good alone  
The falling work, first throws dead bodies down,  
From the full tower to overwhelm the foes.  
The posts, the walls, slaughter itself bestows  
Weapons on him, threatening himself to fall  
down on their heads, and thrusts off from the wall  
The breasts of scaling foes with poles, and stakes,  
And with his sword cuts off his hand that takes  
Hold on the bulwarks top; and with vast stones  
Pashes their heads in pieces, breaks their bones,  
And dashes out their weakely-fenced brains.  
down on another's hair, and face he raines  
Pitch fired; the fire whizzes in burning eyes.  
But when the piled up carcases 'gan rise  
To equal the walls height, as nimbly then  
Into the midst of Pompey's armed men  
Scaeva leaps down from thence, as Leopard's fierce  
Break through the besetting huntsmen's spears.  
Then Scaeva wedged in round, and by th' whole war  
Enclosed, yet where he strikes is Conqueror.  
His swords point dull with blood congealed grows,  
And blunt; nor does it pierce, but bruise his foes.  
His sword has lost the use, and without wound  
It breaks men's limbs. The foes encircling round  
At him direct their weapons all, and all  
Their hands aim right, and javelins rightly fall:  
There fortune a strange match beholds, one man  
'Gainst a whole war. His strong shield founded than  
With often strokes: his broken helmet beat  
down to his Temples wrings with pain and heat,  
And nothing else protects his vital parts  
But th' outside of his flesh stuck full of darts.  
Why with light darts, and arrows do you strive  
(Vain fools) such wounds, as cannot kill, to give?  
Let the Phalaricke strong her wild fire throw,  
Or massy walls of stone 'gainst such a foe:  
Let battering Rams, and wars vast engines all  
Remove him thence; he stands for Caesar's wall  
wall Pompey's course. His breast no arms now hide,  
Scorning to use a shield, lest his left side  
Should want a wound, and he be forced to live  
By his own fault, what wounds the war can give,  
He takes alone; and bearing a thick wood  
Of darts upon his breast, now wearied stood  
Choosing what foe to fall on; so at sea  
Do whales, and monstrous beasts of Libya.  
So a Getulian Elephant closed in  
By hunters round, all shafts from his thick skin  
Beats back, and breaks: or moving it shakes off  
The sticking darts (his bowels safe enough)  
And through those wounds no blood he loses; so  
So many shafts, and darts cannot bestow  
One death. At last a Cretan bow let fly  
A sure Gortyan shaft: in the left eye  
Of Scava stuck the shaft; be void of fears,  
The ligaments, and optic sinews tears,  
That th' arrows forked iron head did stay,  
And kicked the shaft with his own eye away.  
So if a Libyan looped javelin pierce  
The side of a Pannonian bear, more fierce  
Grown by her wound, she wheels herself about,  
Eager to catch the dart, and pull it out,  
Which still turns with her, Scaeua's looks now bore,  
No fierceness, all his face deformed with gore.  
A shout that reached the sky, the Conquerors raise;  
So little blood (though drawn from Caesar's face)  
Could not have joyed them more. But Scaeva now  
In his great heart suppressing this deep woe,  
With a mild look, that did no valour show,  
Hold Countrymen (quoth he) forbear me now;  
Wounds further not my death, nor now need I  
More weapons in, but these pulled out, to dye.  
Into the camp of Pompey carry me:  
Do't for your general's sake, let Scaeva be  
Rather th' example now of Caesar left,  
Then of a noble death. Aulus be left  
These feigned words of his unhappily:  
And did not the swords point against him see:  
But as to seize him, and his arms he ventures,  
His throat the lightning sword of Scaeva enters.  
His valour then by this one death renewed  
Vvaxed hot; who ere dares think Scaeva subdued,  
Thus let him rue (quoth he,) if from this steel  
Pompey seek peace, let him to Caesar kneel.  
Thought you me like yourselves, fearful, and base?  
You love not Pompey, and the Senate's cause,  
As I love death. With that the dust raised high  
Gave them all notice Caesar's troops were nigh,  
And from wars shame did the Pompeyans free,  
Lest a whole troop should have been thought to flee  
From Scaeva only. When the fight was done  
He fell, and died: for fight (when blood was gone)  
Lent strength. His friends taking him, as he fall●,  
Upon their shoulders to his funerals  
Are proud to bear him, and that breast adore,  
As if some sacred deity it bore,  
Or valours glorious image there did live.  
Then all from his transfixed members strive  
To pluck the Piles: and therewithal they dressed  
The gods themselves: on Mars his naked breast,  
Scaeva, they put thy arms. How great endeede  
Had been thine honour, if those men, that fled;  
Had been the warlike Celtiberians.  
Germans long armed, or short Cantabrians.  
No triumphs now; no spoils of this sad war  
Can deck the temple of the thunderer.  
With how great valour, wretch, hast thou procured  
A lord? nor did great Pompey lie immured  
And quiet from attempting fight again  
At this repulse, no more than th' Ocean  
Is tired, when lifted by strong Eastern blast  
'Gainst the repelling rocks, and eats at last  
The rocks hard side, making, though late, a way  
Assaulting then (f) the fort that nearest lay  
To th' sea, he takes it by a double war,  
And spreads his men over the fields afar,  
Pleased with this liberty of changing ground.  
So when full Padus swells above the bound  
Of his safe banks, and the near fields oreflowes:  
If any land, not able to oppose  
That hill of water, yield: that it oreruns,  
Opening t' itself unknown dominions  
Some owners must of force their lands forego,  
Some gain new lands, as Padus will bestow.  
Caesar, at first not knowing it, by light  
From a towers top had notice from the fight:  
The dust now la'id, he sees his walls beat down;  
But when he found it past, and the foe gone,  
This rest his fury stirred, enraged deep  
That Pompey safe on Caesar's loss should sleep.  
Resolving (though to his own loss) to go  
On, and disturb the quiet of his foe.  
First he assaults Torquatu●, who descries  
As soon his coming, as the sailor spies  
Th' approach of a Circaean storm, and takes  
down all his sails, when once the main mast shakes.  
His men within the inner wall doth bring,  
To stand more firmly in a narrow ring.  
over the (g) first trenches works Caesar was gone,  
When Pompey from the hills above sent down  
All his whole troops upon th' enclosed foe.  
Th' inhabitants near Aetna fear not so  
Enceladus, when the fierce Southwind blows,  
And Aetna from her fiery caverns throws  
Her scalding entrailes forth: as Caesar's men,  
By the raised dust o'ercome ere they begin  
To fight; and in the cloud of this blind fear  
Flying they meet their foes; terror does bear  
Them to their fate. Then might have been let out  
The civil wars whole blood, and peace been brought.  
Pompey himself their furious swords restrained.  
Oh happy, Rome, still free hadst thou remained  
With all thy laws, and power, if there for thee  
Sylla had conquered; 'tis, and still shall be  
Caesar, our grief, thy worst of wicked deeds  
(To fight with a good son in law) succeeds.  
Oh luckless fates, for Munda's bloody day  
Spain had not wept, Aff●icke for Utica;  
Nor had Nile borne, her stream discolouring,  
A carcase (h) nobler then th' Egyptian King;  
Nor juba (ay) naked on Libyan sands had died,  
Nor had the blood of Scipio pacify'd●  
Carthage dire ghosts: nor men's society  
Had lost good Cato. That day, Rome to thee  
Had been the last of ills; Pharsalia's day  
In midst of fate had vanished away.  
Caesar this ill-possessed place forsakes,  
And with his mangled (k) troops t'Aemathia makes.  
Pompey pursues his flying father in law.  
Whom from that purpose his friends strive to draw,  
Persuading him to turn to Italy  
Now free from enemies Never, quoth he,  
Will I like Caesar to my country come,  
Nor never more unless with peace, shall Rome  
See my return. In Italy I could  
Have stayed at the beginning, if I would  
Before Rome's temples this sad war have brought,  
And in the midst o'th' market place have fought.  
To draw the war from home, to ' th'torrid zone,  
Or Scythiaes' farthest cold I would be gone.  
Shall I a conqueror now rob Rome of rest,  
Who fled, lest she should be with war oppressed?  
Let Caesar think Rome his, rather than she  
Should suffer from this war. Then Easterly  
He turns his course, paths devious marching over,  
Where regions vast Candavia does discover,  
And to Thessalia comes, which fate for this  
Sad war ordained Thessalia bounded is  
By the ●●ill Ossa on the North-east side;  
Pelion, when Summer in her height of pride,  
His shade opposes 'gainst Sols rising rays;  
The woody Othrys Southward keeps away  
The scorching Lions heat; Pindus his height  
Keeps off the Western winds, and hastens night  
By hiding the Suns set; those men near feel  
(That in the bottom of Olympus dwell)  
The Northwindes' rage, nor all night long can see  
The shining of the Bear. The fields, that lie  
A vale betwixt those hills, were heretofore  
A standing pool with water covered over.  
The fields kept in the rivers; Tempe then  
Had no vent to the sea: to fill the fen  
Was all the rivers course. But when of yore  
Alcides Ossa from Olympus tore,  
And Peneus suddenly the sea did fill:  
Seaborn Achilles' kingdom (that had still  
Been better under water) first was shown;  
And Phylace, that landed first upon  
The Trojan shore her ship; and Dorion  
For the nine Muses anger woe-begone;  
P●eleos, and Trachis, Me●●baa proud  
Of great Alcides' shafts on her bestowed,  
Raze hire for Oeta's fire; and where men now  
Over the once renowned Argos plow:  
Larissa potent once: and where old tales  
Describe the Echionian Theban walls;  
Thither Agave banished, there the head,  
And necks of her dead Pentheus buried,  
Grieved she had torn no more limbs from her son.  
The fens thus broke in many rivers run.  
On the West side into th'lonian sea  
Clea●e, but small, Aeas run: as small as he  
Runs the Egyptian Isis' father's flood:  
And Acheloiis, whose thick stream with mud  
Soils the Echinades: Euenus o'er  
Meleager's Calydon stained with the gore  
Of Nessus runs: Sperchios swiftly slides  
Into th'maliack sea, whose channel glides  
Purely along Amphrysus pasture fields,  
Where Phoebus served: Anauros, that ne'er yields  
Nor fog, nor wind, nor exhalation:  
And what ere river by itself not known  
To th'sea, his waves on Peneus bestows:  
Apidanos in a swift torrent flows:  
Enipeus never swift unless combined:  
Melas: and Phoenix with Asopus joined:  
Alone his stream pure Titaresus keeps,  
Though in a different named flood he creeps:  
And using Peneus as his ground, he flows  
Above: from Styx (they say) this river rose:  
Who (mindful of his spring) scorns with base floods  
To mix, but keeps the reverence of the gods.  
When first, these rivers gone, the fields appeared,  
Fat surrowes the Boebician plowshares reared:  
Th'Aeolian husbandmen then break the ground,  
The Leleges, and Dolopes then wound  
Her fertile breast; the skilled Magnetians  
In horesemanship: the sea famed Minyans.  
In Pelethronian dens t'●xion there  
A fruitful cloud did th'half-wild Centaurs bear:  
Thee, Monichus, that couldst on Pholoe  
Break hardest rocks: and furious Rhacus, thee,  
That up by th'roots could strong wild ashes tear  
On Octa's mount, which Boreas blasts would bear;  
Phol●●, that didst Alc●des entertain:  
Ravishing Nessus on the river slain  
By venomed shafts: and thee, old Chiron, made  
A constellation now, who seem'st t'invade  
The Scorpion with thy Thessalian bow:  
Fierce wars first seeds did from this country grow;  
here the first horse for war sprang from a rock,  
Which mighty Neptune with his trident stroke;  
To chew on the steel bit he not disdained,  
And foamed by his Thessalian rider reigned.  
From hence the first of ships the Ocean ploughed,  
And seas hid paths to earth-bred mortals showed.  
Itonus first of all Thessalia's King  
To form by hammer did hot metals bring;  
Made silver liquid, stamped his coins impress  
In gold, and melted brass in furnaces.  
Hence did th'account of money first arise,  
The fatal cause of war and tragedies.  
here was that hideous serpent Python bred,  
Whose skin the Delphian Tripos covered;  
Whence to those games Thessalian bays are brought.  
Aloeus wicked brood 'gainst heaven here fought;  
When Ossa on high Pelions top was set,  
And the Celestial orbs swift motion let.  
When both the generals in this land (by fate  
Destined) encamped: the wars ensuing state  
Fills all presaging minds, all saw at hand  
That hour, on which this wars last cast should stand  
Cowards now trembled that wars fate so near  
Was drawn, and feared the worst; both hope and fear  
To this yet-doubtfull trial brought the stout.  
But one (alas) among the fearful rout  
Was Sextus, Pempey's most unworthy son;  
Who afterwards a banished man upon  
Sicilian seas, turned Pirate, and there stained.  
The famed sea-triumphs his great father gained  
He brooking no delay, but weak to bear  
A doubtful state, endeavoures, urged by fear,  
To find fates future course. Nor does he crave  
From Delphian Phoebus, from the Pythian cave,  
Or that famed Oak fruitful in akehornes, where  
Jove's mouth gives answer, this event to hear.  
Nor seeks advice from them, to whom are known  
Birds flights, beasts entrailes, lightnings motion,  
Nor the Chaldaean skilled ginger,  
Nor any secret ways, that lawful were:  
But magic damned by all the gods above,  
And her detested secrets seeks to prove,  
Aid from the ghosts, and fiends below to crave,  
Thinking (ah wretch) the gods small knowledge have.  
The place itself this vain dire madness helped,  
Near to the camp th' Aemonian witches dwelled,  
Whom no invented monster's can excel;  
Their art's what ever's incredible to tell.  
Besides Thessalia's fields, and rocks do bear  
Strange kill herbs, and plants, and stones that hear  
The charming Witches murmurs: there arise  
Plants, that have power to force the deities.  
Medea there a stranger in those fields  
Gathered worse herbs than any Colchos yields.  
Those wretches impious charms turn the gods cares,  
Though deaf to many nations zealous prayers:  
Their voice alone bears through the inmost skies  
Commands to the unwilling deities,  
Which not their care of heavens high motions  
Can turn away; when those dire murmurs once  
Enter the sky, though the Egyptians wise,  
And Babylonians their deep misteryes  
Should utter all, th'Aemonian witch still bears  
From all their altars the gods forced ears.  
These witch's spells loves soft desires have sent  
Into the hardest hearts 'gainst fates intent;  
Severe old men have burned in impious love,  
Which tempered drinks, and philtrums could not move,  
Nor that, to which the foal his dams love owes,  
The swelling flesh that on his forehead grows.  
Minds by no poison hurt, have perished  
By spells; those, whom no love of marriage bed,  
Nor tempting beauties power could ere inflame,  
By Magic knot-tyed thread together came;  
The course of things has stayed, to keep out day  
Night has stood still▪ the sky would not obey  
The law of Nature: the dull world at their  
Dire voice has been benumned: great jupiter  
Urging their course himself, admired to see  
The poles not moved by their swift axletree.  
Showers they have made; clouded the clearest sky,  
And heaven has thundered, jove not knowing why.  
By the same voice, (with hair lose hanging) they  
Moist swelling clouds, and storms have chased away.  
The sea without one puff of wind has swelled;  
Again in spite of Auster has been stilled:  
Ships sails have quite against the winds been swayed:  
Steep waters torrents in their fall have stayed:  
And rivers have run back. Nile not oreflowne  
In Summer time: Maeander strait has run.  
Arar has hastened, Rhodanus grown slow:  
High hills sunk down have aequalled vales below.  
Above his head the clouds Olympus saw:  
In midst of Winter Scythian snows did thaw  
Without the Sun: the tide-raised Ocean  
Aemonian spells beat from the shore again.  
The ponderous earth out of her centre tossed  
Her middle place in the world's orb has lost;  
So great a weight struck by that voice was stirred,  
And on both sides the face of heaven appeared.  
All deadly creatures, and for mischief borne  
Both fear, and serve by death the witches turn;  
The Tigers fierce, and Lions nobly bold  
Fawn upon them: cold snakes themselves unfold,  
And in the frosty fields lie all untwined:  
Dissected vipers by their power are joined.  
Their poisoned breathe poisoned serpents kill.  
Why are the gods thus troubled to fulfil,  
And fearful their enchantments to contemn?  
What bargain has thus tied the gods to them?  
Do they obey upon necessity,  
Or pleasure? or some unknown piety  
Deserves it? or some secret threats prevail?  
Or have they jurisdiction over all  
The gods? or does one certain deity fear  
Their most imperious charms, who, what so ere  
Himself is forced too, can the world compel?  
By them the stars oft from the pole down fell;  
And by their voices poison Phoebe turned,  
Grown pale with dark, and earthly fires has burned,  
No less then if debarred her brothers shine  
By enterposall of the earth between  
Her Orb, and his: these labours undergone  
Has she, depressed by incantation,  
Until more nigh she foamed her jelly on  
Their herbs. These spells of this dire nation,  
And damned rites dreadful Erichtho scorns  
As too too good, and this foul art adorns  
With newer rites; in towns her dismal head,  
Or houses roofs is never covered.  
Forsaken graves, and tombs (the ghosts expelled)  
She haunts; by fiends in estimation held.  
To hear hells silent counsels, and to know  
The Stygian cells, and misteryes below.  
Of Dis, her breathing here no hindrance was.  
A yellow leanness spreads her loathed face;  
Her dreadful looks, known to no lightsome air,  
With heavy hell-like paleness clogged are.  
Laden she is with long unkemmed hairs.  
But when dark storms, or clouds obscure the stars,  
From naked graves then forth Ericttho stalks  
To catch the night's quick sulphur; as she walks  
The corn burns up, and blasts where ere she tread;  
And by her breath clear airs are poisoned.  
She prays not to the gods, nor humbly cries  
For help, nor knows she pleasing sacrifice;  
But funeral flames to th'altars she prefers,  
Frankincense snatched from burning sepulchers.  
The gods at her first voice grant any harm  
She asks, and dare not hear her second charm.  
Live souls, that rule their limbs, she does entomb:  
Death (though unwilling) seizes those, to whom  
The fates owe years; with a cross pomp men dead  
Return from grave, corpses from tombs have fled;  
Young men's hot ashes, and burnt bones she snatches  
Out of the midst of funeral Piles, and catches  
The kindling brand in their sad parent's hand;  
The funeral beds black smoking fragments, and  
Their ashy garments, and flesh-smelling coals.  
But when she finds a coarse entombed whole,  
Whose moisture is drawn out, and marrow grown  
Hard by corruption, greedy havoc on  
Each limb she makes; and from their orbs doth tear  
His congealed eyes, and sticks her knucles there.  
She gnaws his nails now pale, o'ergrown, and long:  
Bites halters killing knots, where dead men hung:  
Tears from the gibbetts strangled bodies down,  
And from the gallows licks corruption.  
She gathers dead men's limbs, which showers have wet,  
And marrow hardened in Sols scorching ●eate.  
She keeps the nails that pierced crucified hands,  
And gathers poisonous filth, and slime that stands  
On the cold joints, and biting with her fangs  
The hardened sinews, up from ground she hangs.  
And where so ere a naked carcase lie,  
Before the beasts, and ravenous fowls sits she;  
But tears, or cuts no limb; till it be bit  
By Wolves; from whose dry jaws she snatches it.  
Nor spares she murdering, if life blood she need,  
That from a throat new opened must proceed.  
She murders, when her sacrifices dire  
Life-blood, and panting entrailes do require:  
And births abortive by unnatural ways  
From wounded wombs she takes, and burning lays  
Them on her wicked altars; when she lacks  
Stout cruel ghosts, such ghosts forthwith she makes.  
All deaths of men serve for her action.  
From young men's chins she pulls the growing down,  
And dying striplings hair she cuts away.  
Ericttho oft when o'er the coarse she lay  
Of her dead kinsman, and did seem to kiss,  
Off from his maimed head would bite a piece;  
And opening his pale lips, gelled, and clung  
In his dry throat she bites his cold stiff tongue:  
And whispering murmurs dire by him she sends  
Her baneful secrets to the Stygian fiends.  
By general fame when Sextus notice had  
Of her, in depth of night, when Titan made  
At the Antipodes their noon of day,  
Over the desert fields he takes his way:  
The servants waiting on his folly then,  
Searching through broken tombs, and graves of men,  
Spied on a rock at last, where Aemus bends,  
And the Pharsalian lofty hills extends,  
Ericttho sitting; she was trying there  
Spells, which ne'er witch, nor magic god did hear,  
And for new purposes was framing charms,  
For fearing lest the civil wars alarms  
Should to some other land be carried thence,  
And Thessaly should want that blood's expense:  
Phillippi fields with incantations stained,  
And sprinkled with dire juice she did command  
Not to transfer the war, meaning t'enjoy  
So many deaths, and the world's blood t'employ:  
The carcases of slaughtered Kings to maim,  
And turn the Roman ashes was her aim:  
To search for princes bones, and each great ghost.  
But what best pleased her, and she studied most,  
Was what from Pompey's coarse to take away,  
Or upon which of Caesar's limbs to prey.  
Whom first thus Pompey's fearful son bespoke;  
Wisest of all Thessalians, that canst make  
Foreknown all things to come, and turn away  
The course of destiny, to me (I pray)  
The certain end of this wars chance relate.  
I am no mean part of the Roman state,  
Great Pompey's son, now either lord of all,  
Or woeful heir of his great funeral.  
My mind, though wounded now with doubtful fear,  
Is well resolved any known woe, to bear.  
Oh take from chance this power, it may not fall  
Unseen, and sudden on me; the gods call;  
Or spare the gods, and force the truth out from  
The ghosts below, open Elysium  
Call forth grim death himself, bid him relate  
Which of the two is given to him by fate,  
'tis no mean task, but labour worthy thee  
To search what end of this great war shall be.  
The impious Witch proud of a fame to spread  
Replies, young man, wouldst thou have altered  
Some meaner fate, it had been easily done  
I could have forced to any action  
Th' unwilling gods. I can preserve the breath  
Of him, whom all the stars have doomed to death:  
And, though the planets all conspire to make  
Him old, the midst of his life's course can break.  
But fates; and th'order of great causes all  
Work downward from the world's original,  
When all mankind depend on one success,  
If there you would, change aught, our arts confess  
Fortune has greater power: but if content  
You be alone to know this wars event,  
Many, and easy ways for us there be  
To find out truth; the earth, the sea, the sky,  
The dead, the Rodopejan rocks, and fields  
Shall speak to us. But since late slaughter yields  
Such choice of carcases in Thessaly,  
To raise upon of those will easiest be:  
That a warm new-slaine carcase with a clear  
Intelligible voice may greet your ear.  
Lest (by the Sun the organs parched, and spilled)  
The dismal ghost uncertain hiss yield.  
Then double darkness o'er night's face she spread,  
And wrapping in a foggy cloud her head,  
She searches where th'unburied bodies lie;  
Away the wolves, and hungry vultures fly  
Loosening their tallands, when Ericttho comes  
To choose her prophet, gripping with her thummes  
Their now cold marrows, seeking where a tongue,  
And lungs, with fillets whole, unwounded hung.  
The fates of those slain men stand doubtful all  
Which of their ghosts she from the dead would call.  
Had she desired to raise th'whole army slain,  
And to revive them for the war again,  
Hell had obeyed: from Styx, by her strange might  
The people all had been drawn back to fight.  
When she a carcase sitting had espied,  
An hook she fastened in his throat, and tied  
To it a fatal rope, by which the hag  
o'er rocks and stones the wretched carcase drag,  
That must revive. Under the hollow side  
Of an high mountain, which to this black deed  
The witch had destined, she the carcase lays.  
A deep, and vast descent of ground there was,  
As low (almost) at the blind caves of Di●:  
Which a pale wood with thick, and spreading tre●  
Barring the sight of heaven, and by Sol's light  
Not penetrable, did oreshadow quite.  
Within the cave was bred by dreary night  
Pale mouldy filth, darkensse sad: no light,  
But light by magic made, ere shined there  
Within the jaws of Tanar●● the air  
Is not so dull, that baleful bound 'twixt hell,  
And us; the princes, in those shades that dwell  
Send without fear their spirits hitherto;  
For though this hag can force the fates to do  
What ere she please, 'tis doubtful whether here,  
Or there those ghosts in their true place appear.  
She puts a various coloured clothing on,  
And fury-like her hair lose hanging down  
Was bound about with vipers, her face hid;  
But when young Sextus, and his train she spied  
Shaking for fear, and his astonished eye  
Fixed on the ground, banish those fears, quoth she,  
His lifes true figure you shall see him take,  
That cowards need not fear to hear him speak.  
But if the furies to your eyes were shown,  
The Stygian lakes, and burning Phlegeton,  
The giants bound, and Cerberus that shakes  
His dreadful curled mane of hissing snakes,  
Why should yond fear, cowards, whilst I am by,  
To see those fiends, that shake at sight of me?  
Then with warm blood, opening fresh wounds she fills  
His breast: and gore to th'inward parts distils:  
Of the Moon's poisonous jelly store she takes:  
And all the hurtful broods, that nature makes  
Foam of mad dogs, which sight of water dread:  
The pith of stags with serpents nourished  
Was mixed there: the dire Hyaena's knot,  
The spotted Lynx his bowels wanted not:  
Nor that small fish, whose strength, though Eurus rise  
Can stay the course of ships: the Dragon's eyes:  
The sounding stone, that brooding Eagles make  
Warm in their nests: th' Arabian nimble snake:  
The red sea-viper, precious gems that kept:  
Skins from th' alive Libyan Cerastes stripped:  
The Phoenix ashes laid in Araby.  
With these when vile, and nameless poisons she  
Had mixed, and leaves filled with enchantments strong,  
And herbs which her dire mouth had spit on young,  
What poison she did on the world bestow.  
Then adds a voice to charm the gods below  
More powerful than all herbs confounding noises  
Much dissonant, and far from humane voices.  
There was the bark of dogs, the wolves sad howl:  
The scriches wa●ling, hollowing of the Owl:  
All voices of wild beasts, hissing of snakes,  
The sound that beat from rocks the water make●▪  
The murmur of stirred woods, the thunder's noise  
Broke from a cloud: all ●●is was in her voice.  
The rest Aemonian incantations tell,  
And thus her voice pierces the lowest hell.  
Furies, and Stygian fiends, whose scourges wound  
All guilty souls, Chaos, that wouldst confound  
Unnumbered worlds: king of the earth beneath,  
That grievest to see the gods exempt from death:  
Thou Styx, and fair Elysium, which no spirit  
To a Thessalian witch deserves t'enherit:  
Thou, that thy mother hat'st, Persephone,  
And heaven, thou lowest part of Hecate,  
By whom the silent tongues of fienes with us  
Have intercourse: hell's porter Cerberus,  
That currishness into our breasts dost put▪  
You destinies, that twice this thread must cut▪  
And thou the burning streams old ferryman  
Tired with ghosts brought back to me again:  
If I invoke you with a mouth profane,  
And foul enough, to hear these prayers deign:  
If with a breath fasting from humane flesh  
These incantations I did ne'er express:  
If women's wombs whole burdens upon you  
And lukewarm brains I often did bestow:  
If one your altar's heads of infants slain  
I set, and bowels, that must live again,  
Obey my voice; no ghost, that long has felt  
The Stygian shades, nor long in darkness dwelled,  
But one that lately from the living went,  
And is but yet at pale hells first descent,  
And one, which (though obedient to this spell)  
Could be but once transported over to hell  
I ask; let some known soldier's ghost relate  
Before great Pompey's son his father's fate,  
If civil war of you have merited.  
Then lifting up her foaming mouth and head  
She saw hard by, the ghost of that dead man  
Trembling to enter his old goal again;  
Fearing those cold pale members, and into  
Th●●●ounded breast, and entrailes torn to go.  
Ah wretch, from whom death's gift is ta'en away  
(To dye no more) that fates durst thus delay  
Ericttho wondered; wrath with death, and fate  
The liveles coarse with living snakes she beate●  
And through earth's craneys, which her charms had; broke  
Barked to the fiends, and thus hell's silence shook.  
Maegera, and Tisiphone that slight  
My voice through hell with your dire whips affright  
Hither that wretched spirit, or from below  
By your true names of Stygian bitches you  
I will call up, and to the Sun's light leave:  
No dead men's graves shall harbour, or receive  
Your heads, I'll follow you observing well,  
And from all tombs, and quiet urns expel.  
False Hecate, thee to the gods I'll show,  
(To whom thou usest with bright looks to go)  
In thy pale rotten form and so provide  
Thou shalt not thy Tartarian visage hide.  
Under the earth's vast weight, I will relate  
What food destaines thee: in what wedlock's state  
Thou lov'st the night's sad king, with such a stain,  
That Ceres shall not wish thee back again  
'Gainst thee, the world's worst judge, I will set free  
The giants, or let to the day to thee.  
Will you obey, or shall I him invoke,  
Whose name the earth's foundations ever shaken?  
Who without hurt th'unveiled Gorgon sees:  
Of whose strong stripes Erinnys fearful is:  
Who keeps an hell unknown to you; and where  
You are above: that dare by Styx forswear.  
Then strait the clotted blood grows warm again  
Feeds the black wounds, and runs through every vein  
And th'outward parts: the vital pulses beat  
In his cold breast: and lifes restored heat  
Mixed with cold death through parts disused runns▪  
And to each joint gives trembling motions;  
The sinews stretch: the carcase from the ground  
Rises not by degrees, but at one bound  
Stands bolt upright: the eyes with twincking hard  
Are opened: not dead, nor yet alive appeared  
The face: his paleness still, and stiffness stays,  
He stands at this revival in amaze;  
But his dumb seal'd-vp lips no murmur made,  
Only an answering tongue, and voice he had.  
Speak (quoth Ericttho) what I ask, and well  
Shalt thou rewarded be: if truth thou tell,  
By our Haemonian art I'll set thee free  
Throughout all ages, and bestow on thee  
Such funerals, with charms so burn thy bones.  
Thy ghost shall hear no incantations.  
Let this the fruit of thy revival be,  
No spells, no herbs shall dare to take from thee  
Thy long safe rest, when I have made thee die.  
The gods, and Prophets answer doubtfully;  
But he, that dares inquire of ghosts beneath,  
And boldly go to th'oracles of death,  
Is plainly told the truth; spare not, but name  
Plainly the things, and places all, and frame  
A speech, wherein I may confer with fate:  
Adding a charm to make him know the state  
Of whatsoe'er she asked; thus presently  
The weeping carcase spoke; I did not see  
The sister's fatal threads, so soon (alas)  
Back from those silent banks enforced to pass.  
But what by speech from all the spirits I gained,  
Among the Roman ghosts fell discord reigned:  
Rome's wicked war disturbed hells quiet rest:  
Some Captains from sad hell, some from the blessed  
Elysian fields come forth, and there what fate  
Intends to do, they openly relate:  
The happy ghosts looked sad, the Decii then  
Father and son, wars-expiating men:  
I saw the Curii, and Camillus wailing,  
Sylla himself against thee, fortune, railing:  
His issues Libyan fate brave Scipio  
Bewailed; and Cato Carthages great foe  
His nephew's bondage-scaping death did monc.  
among the blessed spirits Brutus alone  
Rejoiced, first Consul, that Rome's king exiled.  
Fierce Catiline, stern Marius, and the wild  
C●thegs breaking chains orejoyed were:  
The popular law promulging Drusi there,  
And daring Gracchi shouting clapped their hands  
Fettered for ever with strong iron bands  
In Pluto's dungeons; impious ghosts had hopes  
Of blessed seats; Pluto pale dungeons opes,  
Prepares hard stones, and adamantine chains,  
To punish the proud Conqueror, ordains.  
Take you this comfort, in a blessed room  
The ghosts expect your side, and house to come,  
And for great Pompey in Elysium  
Prepare a place. The hour shall shortly come  
(Envy not then the glory of so small  
A life) that in one world shall lodge you all.  
Make haste to meet your deaths, and with a mind  
Haughty, (though from small funerals) descened  
To tread upon the souls of Roman gods.  
For burials ●all this mortal odds;  
And the Pharsalian fight must only try  
Who shall by Nile, and who by Tiber lie.  
But seek not thou thy destiny to hear,  
Which fate, though I be silent, will declare:  
A surer prophet shall thy father be  
In Sicily, although uncertain he  
Whither to call thee, whence to bid thee flee,  
Or in what coast or climate safe to be,  
Tear Europe, Asia, Africa▪ fates divide  
Your funeral, as they your triumphs did.  
Oh wretched house, to you the world shall yield  
No place more happy than Pharsalia's field.  
Thus having spoke the carcase did remain  
With a sad look, and begged for death again,  
But could not die without a magic spell,  
And herbs: nor could the fates restore to hell  
His soul once sent from thence. With that the witch  
Builds up a lofty funeral pile; to which  
The dead man comes: she lays him on the fires,  
Leaves him, and lets him dye, and then retires  
With Sextus to his father's camp: and now  
The welkin 'gan Aurora's light to show:  
But to the camp till Sextus take his way,  
The dark charmed night kept off approaching day,  
FINIS Libri Sexti.   

Annotations on the sixth Book:  
(a) From their camps by the river Aps●● both generals at one time brought forth their armies; Pompey intending to intercept M. Antonius, and Caesar intending to join with Anthony. Anthony certified by some greeks of Pompey's ambushes, kept within his camp, till the next day Caesar came to him. Pompey then fearing to be enclosed by two armies, departing thence marched to asparagu near Dyrrachium, and there encamped; thither also marched Caesar, and encamped not far from him.  
(b) Caesar wanting provision was desirous of battle: but Pompey better provided of all necessaries purposely delayed it.  
(c) Caesar perceiving that Pompey would not be drawn out to fight, the next day by a great compass, and difficult way went to Dyrrachium hoping too exclude Pompey thence, where his corn, and provision lay, which Pompey perceiving, went thither also by a nearer way.  
(d) Caesar (that his own men might with the less danger forage, and fetch in corn, as also to hinder Pompey from foraging, and to lessen his estimation among foreign nations) kept with garrisons all the tops of the hills, and fortified castles there, and drew strong trenches from castle to castle, so on every side enclosing Pompey. The work extended fifteen miles in compass, being so tar●e that Pompey within wanted nothing, and Caesar could not man his works round.  
(e) Caesar's soldiers wanting victual besieged Pompey abounding with all store of provision. Pompey seeing the strange unheard of food, that Caesar's soldiers eat while they besieged him, said that he now made war against beasts.  
(f) Pompey understanding by some renegadoes that Caesar's cross trench between the two bulwarks toward the sea was not finished, sent a ship manned with archers, and other soldiers to assault the defenders of the work behind. Himself about the end of night came thither also with his forces. Caesar's cohorts, that watched there near the sea, seeing themselves assaulted both by land and sea, ran away: whom the Pompeyans pursued with a great slaughter, till Mar. Antonius with twelve cohorts coming down the hill made the Pompeyans retreat again.  
(g) Caesar to repair that day's loss assaulted with three and thirty cohorts the castle which Torquatus kept, and beat the Pompeyans from the trench. Which Pompey hearing brought his fifth Legion to their succour. Caesar's horsemen fearing to be enclosed began first to fly, which the foot seeing, and seeing Pompey there in person, fled also; this victory if Pompey had pursued, he had utterly overthrown Caesar.  
(h) Pompey the great slain upon the banks of Nile.  
ay juba King of Mauritania which had slain Curio and his Legions before, in the African war was vanquished by Caesar, and fearing to fall into Caesar's hands, 〈◊〉 and Petrejus slew each other.  
(k) For in these two conflicts Caesar lost nine hundred footmen, sixty two horsemen, thirty Centurions, ten Tribunes, and thirty two Ensigns of war.   

LUCAN'S Pharsalia. The Seventh Book.  
The Argument.  
Great Pompey's flattering dream; his soldiers all  
Eager of battle, urge their General;  
Their wish (though rash and fatal) finds defence  
In Cicero's unhappy eloquence.  
Against his will great Pompey's forced to yield:  
The signals given: Pharsalia's dreadful field  
Is fought; Rome's liberty for ever dies,  
And vanquished Pompey to Larissa flies.  
SAd Titan later Thetis lap forsook  
Then nature's law required, and never took  
A crosser way, as if borne back again  
By the spheres course, would be eclipsed fain▪  
Attracting clouds, not food t'his flames to yield,  
But loath to shine upon Pharsalia's field.  
That night of Pompey's happy life the last,  
Deceived by flattering sleeps, he dreamed him placed  
In the Pompeyan Theatre, among  
Rome's people flocking in unnumbered throng;  
Where shouting to the skies he heard them raise  
His name, each room contending in his praise.  
Such were the people's looks, such was their praise,  
When in his youth, and first triumphant days  
Pompey but then a gentleman of Rome,  
Had quieted the west, and Spain o'ercome,  
Scattering the troops revolt Sertorius led;  
And sat by th' Senate as much honoured  
In his pure candid, as trumphall gown.  
Wither the doubtful fancy fearful grown  
Of future fate, run back to former joys;  
Or prophesying by such sights implies  
Their contrary, and bodes ensuing woe:  
Or else on thee fortune would thus bestow  
A fight of Rome, that could not otherwise.  
Oh do not wake him from this sleep to rise,  
No trumpet pierce his ear; the next night's rest  
With the foregoing day's sad war oppressed  
Will nought but fights, but blood and slaughter show,  
Happy were Rome, could she but see (though so)  
Her Pompey, blessed with such a dream at this,  
And happy night; oh would the deities  
Had given one day, Pompey, to Rome, and thee,  
That both assured of your destiny  
Might reap the last fruit of a love so dear.  
Thou goest, as if thy Rome should thee inter:  
And she, still mistress of her wish in thee,  
Hopes that the fates lodge not such cruelty,  
As to depri●● 〈◊〉 of thy honoured tomb.  
To mourn for thee old men, and young would come,  
Children untaught would weep: the Matrons all  
With hair (as once at Brutus' funeral)  
Lose hung, would beat their breasts; now though they fear  
The swords of the injurious Conqueror,  
Though he himself relate thy death, they'll mourn  
At public sacrifice, as they adorn  
Jove's house with laurel; wretched men, whose moan  
Concealed, in sighs must vent itself alone,  
And dares not sound in public theatres.  
Now had the rising Sun obscured the stars,  
When all the soldiers murmuring up and down  
(The fates now drawing the world's ruin on)  
Desire a signal to the fight; poor men,  
Whose greater part should never see the end  
Of that sad day, about their General's tent  
(Hasting the hour of their near death) they vent  
Their passions, and complaints; and frantic grown  
Their own, and public fate they hasten on.  
They call great Pompey sluggish, timorous,  
Patient of Caesar, and ambitious  
Of sovereignty, desirous still to reign  
o'er all those Kings, and fearing peace again.  
The Kings, and Eastern nations all complained  
War was prolonged, and they from home detained.  
The gods, when they our ruin had decreed,  
Would make it thus our own erroneous deed.  
Ruin we sought, and mortal wars required,  
In Pompey's camp Pharsalia is desired.  
No● did this wish want Cicero's defence  
The greatest author of Rome's eloquence;  
In whose growne-rule fierce Catiline did fear  
The peaceful axes. Now turned soldier  
From bars and plead had been silent long,  
And this bad cause thus strengthens with his tongue.  
Pompey, for all her gifts fortune implores  
That thou wouldst use her now: thy Senators,  
Thy kings, and all the suppliant world entreat  
Thy leave to conquer Caesar: shall he yet  
So long a war against mankind maintain?  
Well may the foreign nations now disdain  
(Who suddenly were vanquished by thee)  
That Pompey is so slow in victory.  
where's now thy spirit, thy confidence of fate?  
Canst thou now doubt the gods (ah most ingrate!)  
Or fearest thou to commit into their hand  
The Senate's cause? thy troops without command  
Their Eagles will advance: 'twere shame for thee  
To be compelled to conquer: if thou be  
Our general, and ours the war, to try  
The hazard lies in our authority.  
Why hold'st thou the world's swords from Caesar's throat?  
They all are drawn almost, and tarry not  
Thy ●low alarms; make haste, lest thy command  
They all forsake: the Senate does demand,  
If they thy soldiers, or companions be.  
Great Pompey sighed to see how contrary  
The gods were bend, and fortune crossed his mind●.  
If you be all (quoth he) this way inclined:  
And me a soldier, not a general  
The time require: I'll be no let at all  
To fate: let fortune all these nations cast  
Into one ruin: be this day the last  
To the great'st part of men. But witness Rome  
Pompey's enforced to this sad field to come.  
The wars whole work need not have cost one wound;  
But Caesar, without blood subdued, and bound  
Might have been brought to answer injured peace.  
What fury's this (oh blind in wickedness!)  
To conquer without blood in civil war  
You are afraid. Master's o'th'land we are:  
The seas are wholly ours: the famished foe  
To fetch in Corn unripe is forced to go;  
And 'tis become his wish by swords to dye,  
And with his ruin mix our tragedy.  
In this some part is finished of the war,  
That our freshwater soldiers do not fear  
The fight (if that be in true valour done;)  
Into extremest dangers many run  
For fear of future ill: valiantest is he,  
That fears not t'vndergoe a danger nigh,  
Nor to differ it. Would you then commit  
Your strength to fortune's hand, and to one fight  
The world's estate, desiring all, that I  
Should rather fight, then get the victory?  
The rule of Rome's estate thou didst bestow  
Fortune, on me: receive it greater now:  
Protect it in this wars blind chance: to me  
Nor crime, nor honour shall this battle be.  
Caesar thy wicked prayers 'gainst mine prevail:  
We fight: how dismal to all people shall  
This day appear? how many lands undone  
Shall be? how crimson shall Enipeus run  
With Roman blood? would the first pile of all  
This mortal war would light (if I could fall  
Without the ruin of our side) on me;  
For not more joyful can the conquest be.  
Pompey a name shall be to every one  
Of hate, or pity, when this fight is done.  
The conquered shall endure the worst of woe:  
The worst of crimes the Conqueror shall do▪  
With that the reins be to their fury gives,  
Suffering the fight. So th'artless sailer leaves  
His helpless bark, when Corus' blasts are grown  
Too strong, to guidance of the winds alone.  
A fearful murmuring noise rose through all parts  
Of th'camp: and diversely their manly hearts  
Beat 'gainst their breasts; upon the face of some  
Appeared the paleness of a death to come,  
And ghastly looks; that day (they think) fate brings  
A lasting state of rule on earthly things:  
And what Rome was, after this field is fought,  
Be asked: no man of his own danger thought  
Amazed with greater fears. Who, when he sees  
All shores oreflowne, and th'uncurbed Ocean rise  
o'er mountains tops, the Firmament and Sun  
Fall down to earth, in such confusion  
Could fear his own estate? no private state  
Has time to fear, but Rome's, and Pompey's fate.  
Nor did they trust their swords, unless sharp set  
On stones: the points of their dull piles they whet;  
Each archer fits his bow with surest strings,  
And choicest arrows in his quiver brings;  
Horsemen sharp spurs provide, and strongest reins.  
So when earths Giants upon Phlegra's plains  
(If with the acts of gods our humane wars  
We may compare) rebelled: the sword of Mars  
In Aetna's f●rge, and Neptune's three-forked spear  
Were scoured, and sharpened: Phoebus arrows there  
With Python dulled, made sharp the blue-eyed maid  
Upon her shield Medusa's hairs displayed:  
Jove's lightning then the Cyclops moulded new.  
Fortune foretold the woes that should ensue  
By many tokens; for the stormy sky  
Withstood their marches into Thessaly:  
The clouds against their eyes did lightnings throw:  
Meteors like lamps, like fiery posts in show,  
And beams, cloud-breaking Typhons did arise,  
And lightnings flashes dimmed, and closed their eyes.  
Their helmets plumes were singed, their piles did melt●  
Sword-blades dissolved run down the hilts they felt:  
Their impious swords with sulphur from the skies  
Did smoke; their Ensigns hid with swarms of Bees  
Could scarce be plucked from ground: the bearers bowed  
Themselves to get them up: which seemed oreflowed  
With tears from thence even to Thessalia:  
The bull from th' holy altars ran away,  
And to Pharsalia field directly flies,  
Whilst their sad altar wants a sacrifice.  
But what night furies, what Eumenides,  
What Stygian powers, or gods of wickedness,  
What hellish fiends, Caesar, didst thou appease  
Preparing for such wicked wars as these?  
Whether the gods, or their own fear had wrought  
These wonders, doubtful 'tis, but many thought  
They saw Olympus meet with Pindus' hill,  
And Aemus fall th'adjoining valleys fill:  
That in the night Pharsalia sounded loud  
The noise of battle: that Baebei's flowed  
Swiftly with blood. But most admired they  
To see each others face show dark; the day  
Grow pale: and night their helmets overspread;  
Their father's ghosts and all their kinsmen dead  
T' appear before their eyes. But this alone  
Comforted their sick minds knowing their own  
Impious intents, brothers to kill, and open  
Their father's throats, they hence conceived hope,  
Thinking these monsters, and portents t'imply  
Th'accomplishment of their impiety.  
No wonder 'tis if men so near their end  
Trembled with frantic fear: if fates do lend  
Presaging minds of future ills to men,  
Romans, that sojourned in Armenia then,  
And Tyrian Gades, and in what coast soe'er,  
Or climate they abode, lamented there,  
Blaming their causeless grief, and did not know  
Their losses in Pharsalia's overthrow.  
An Augur sitting on (a) th'Euganean mount,  
(If fame record a truth) where springs the fount  
Of foggy Aponus, where Timaws does  
First part, and thence in several channels flows,  
This day (quoth he) the action's in the height,  
Pompey, and Caesar's impious armies fight;  
Whether Jove's thunder, and divining stroke  
He had observed, or how thick air did choke  
The jarring heavens, or on the poles did look,  
Or in the firmament had found this fight  
By the Sun's paleness, and stars mournful light;  
But nature sure did differently display  
From other days, the sad Thessalian day:  
And if all men had skilful Augurs been,  
By all the world Pharsalia had been seen▪  
Greatest of men, whose fates through the earth extend,  
Whom all the gods have leisure to attend;  
These acts of yours to all posterity  
Whether their own great fame shall signify,  
Or that these lines of mine have profited  
Your mighty names; these wars, when they are read,  
Shall stir th' affections of the reader's mind,  
Making his wishes, and vain fears inclined  
As to a thing to come, not past, and guide  
The hearts of all to favour Pompey's side.  
Pompey descending down the hill displays  
His troops reflecting rising Phoebus rays,  
Not rashly o'er the fields: in order good  
And marshaled well the hapless army stood.  
The left wing first was L●ntulus his care  
With the first ●egion, than the best in war,  
And fourth: Thou, stout Domitius▪ leadest the right,  
Valiant, though still unfortunate in fight:  
In the main battle with his warlike bands  
Brought lately from Cilicia, Scipio stands  
Well fortified: here under a command,  
A general first in Aff●cks scorched land.  
But all along the swift Enipeus side  
The loose-rained troops of Pontic horsemen ride:  
And mountaniers of Cappadocia;  
Upon the drier fields in rich array  
Do the earth's Monarches, Kings, and Tetrarches stand,  
And all the states, that Roman swords command.  
Thither from Libya came Numidians,  
I●gr●as arthurs, Crete's Cydonians:  
F●i●ce Gauls there fought against their wont foe:  
The●e warlike Spaniards their short shields did show.  
The Conqueror of all triumphs now deprive,  
And let no people this sad war survive.  
Caesar that day dislodging to provide  
For corn, was marching out, when he espied  
The foes descending down the champion field,  
And that so often wished-for ●ay beh●ld,  
That on one chance of war should set the main;  
S●●ke of delay, and covetous of reign,  
In this small tract of time condemned had he  
The civil war as a slow villainy.  
But when fates falling ruin shake he saw,  
And both their fortunes to a trial draw:  
His wondrous love of sword some languishment  
'Gan feel: his mind, though ever confident  
Of good success, now doubts: from fear his own,  
As Pompey fortunes from presumption,  
Did keep his mind: at last exiling fears  
With confidence he cheers his soldiers.  
Brave soldiers, the world's awe, Caesar's estate,  
That lay of fight is come, which we from fate  
So oft have begged: oh do not now desire,  
But by your valour's fortunes aid acquire.  
What Caesar is lies in your hands al●ne.  
This is the day, which passing Rubicon  
Was promised me: in hope of which we stirred.  
And our forbidden triumphs have differred.  
This is the day that shall restore to you  
Children and wives, and shares of land bestow  
Freed from wars duties: this the day, that tries  
(Witnessed by fate) whose cause the juster is  
This field the conquered side shall guilty make.  
If you with fire, and sword have for my sake  
Assaulted Rome, now fight like soldiers,  
And free your swords from guilt: no hand in wars  
Is pure in both sides judgement: nor for me  
Fight you alone, but that yourselves may be  
Free lords of all the world. ay, for mine own  
Content, could live in a Plebejan gown,  
Or be in any state, so you obtain  
A perfect freedom; by my envy reign.  
Nor with much blood shall all the world be bought:  
But youths of Greece in schools of wrestling taught,  
Base sluggish spirits, that never arms did bear,  
And mixed Barbarian troops are standing there,  
That, when the armies join, will ne'er abide  
The trumpets sound, nor shouts of their own side.  
In civil war few hands, alas, shall fight:  
Most of the blows upon Rome's foes shall light,  
And rid the world of well-spared people, go,  
Break through those dastard nations, and o'erthrow  
The world at your first onset; make it known  
That all those nations, which so oft were shown  
In Pompey's triumphs, are not worthy proved  
Of one poor triumph Ar● th' Armenians moved  
Think you, what General shall Rome obtain?  
With least bloods loss would the Barbarians gain  
A sovereignty for Pompey? they abhor  
All Romans, as their lords: and hate those more,  
Whom they have known. The trust of my affairs  
To friends, whose valour through so many wars  
In France I have beheld, does fortune now  
Commit: what soldiers sword do not I know?  
And when through th'air a trembling pile is sent,  
I'll truly tell you from what arm it went.  
Those signs I see that ne'er your General failed,  
Fierce looks, and threatening eyes you have prevailed:  
Me thinks the rivers swelled with blood I see,  
And at your feet the slaughtered bodies lie  
Of Kings, and Senators; nations to day  
Swim in this bloody field. But I delay  
My fortunes, in detaining from the field  
Your forward spirits: pardon me though I yield  
A while to pleasing hope: I ne'er did see  
The gods so liberal, and so speedily:  
But one fields distance from our wish are we.  
What Kings, and nations are possessed of now,  
When this field's fought, is Caesar's to bestow.  
O gods, what stars, what influence of the sky  
Has given so great a power to Thessaly?  
This day allots the punishment, or gains  
Of all our wars: think upon Caesar's chains,  
His wracks, and gibbets: think you see this face,  
These quartered limbs stand in the market place:  
Remember Sylla in the field of Mars,  
For 'gainst a Syllane General are our wars.  
My care's for you: this hand shall free mine own,  
Who ere looks back before the day be won,  
Shall see me fall on mine own sword, and die.  
You gods, whose cares are drawn down from the sky  
By Rome's dissensions, let him Conqueror be,  
That to the Conquered means no cruelty:  
And thinks his countrymen have not in aught  
Misdone, because against his side they fought.  
When Pompey in a narrow place had shut  
Your helpless valour up, how did he glut  
His sword with blood? but this I beg of you  
Soldiers, let no man wound a flying foe:  
Account him still your countryman, that flies.  
But while they stand in fight, let not your eyes  
Be moved with piety, though in that place  
Your fathers stood, but with your swords deface  
Their reverend looks. Who ere has sheathed his blade  
In kinsman's breast, or by the wound he made  
Has done no wrong to kindred, all as one  
Shall I esteem, kinsman, and foe unknown.  
Fill up the trenches tear the rampiers down,  
That in full maniples we may come on:  
Spare not your camp; that camp shall be your own  
From which you dying army is come down.  
Scarce thus had Caesar spoke, when every one  
Fell to their charge, and strait their armour done;  
A quick presage of happy war they take:  
Of their neglected camp havoc they make:  
Not ranked, nor marshaled by the general  
Confused they stand, leaving to fortune all.  
Had all been Caesars▪ had each soldier fought  
For monarchy, and Rome's sole Empire sought,  
They could not all with more desire come on.  
When Pompey saw them march directly down,  
That now the war admitted no delay,  
But this by heaven's appointment was the day,  
He stands amazed, and cold: the war to fear  
'twas fatal in so great a soldier.  
But cheering up his men his own fears hiding,  
On a proud steed through every quarter riding;  
The time your valours wished for, soldiers,  
Is come, qu●th he, the end of civil wars,  
This is the sword's last work, the judging hour  
Of nations fates: now show your utmost power.  
He that would see his household gods again,  
His country, wife, and children, must obtain  
All by the sword▪ the gods have in this fight  
Disposed them all: our just cause does invite  
To hope: our swords the gods themselves shall guide  
Through Caesar's breast, and in his blood provide  
Th' establishment of Roman liberty.  
Had they to him decreed a Monarchy,  
To my old age death might long since have come.  
It was no sign the gods were wroth with Rome,  
Preserving Pompey for her leader now,  
And all helps else, that conquest can bestow.  
Illustrious men, such as old times did show,  
Do willingly these dangers undergo.  
Should the Camilli th'ancient Curii  
Revive, or the devoted Decii,  
here they would stand. Forces we have from th' East,  
Numberless cities aides▪ war never pressed  
So many hands: we use all nations  
Of the whole world, people of all the zones,  
Of all mankind 'twixt North, and South that dwell  
Are here: we may enclose that army well  
With our wide stretched-out wings: the victory  
Asked not all hands: some need but shout, and cry.  
Caesar's small strength cannot employ us all.  
Think that your mothers from the city wall  
Tearing their hair entreat your valour now,  
Think that the old unarmed Senate bow  
Their honoured hoary heads before your feet,  
And Rome herself for freedom doth entreat:  
Think that this age, and our posterity  
Do both entreat: one would in freedom die,  
The other be freeborn. And if there be  
After these pledges, a room left for me,  
I with my wife and sons before your feet  
(If th'honour of a general would permit)  
Would fall; unless you conquer here, your shame,  
And caesars mock is banished Pompey's name.  
I crave in freedom my ●ast age to spend,  
And not ●e taught to serve so near my end.  
This sad speech fi●'d the Roman spirits anew,  
They wish to die, should, what they fear, be true.  
With equal fur● than both armies meet;  
One for ambition, th' other freedom fight.  
These hands shall act, what no succeeding year,  
Nor all mankind for ever can repair  
Though free from wars: this fight kills men to come,  
And the next age, before they enter womb:  
All Latian names thence fabulous shall be,  
And men in ruined dust shall scarcely see  
The Gabii, Veii, Cora, nor the room  
Where Alba stood; nor fair Laurentium,  
A country desolate, which none espies.  
But the forced Consuls in night sacrifice  
Blaming old Numa's institution.  
These monuments times ruining hand alone  
Has not defaced: wars civil crimes we see  
In that so many cities emptied be  
To that small number is mankind reduced?  
We all, whom the whole earth has since produced,  
Are not enough the towns, and fields to fill:  
One town us receives us all, and bondmen till  
Th'Italian lands old houses stand alone  
Rotten, and want a man to fall upon:  
And wanting her old Citizens there slain,  
Rome with the dreggs of men is filled again.  
This slaughter makes that Rome hereafter free  
From civil war for many years shall be.  
Pharsalia is the cause of all these ills,  
Letoy Canna yield that our black annals fills,  
And Allia damned in Roman Calendars,  
Rome has remembered these as her small scars,  
But would forget this day: oh fatal time!  
Those lives, that fortune had from every clime  
Brought here to perish, might all loss repair  
Mankind sustains by pestilential air,  
Sickness, towne-swallowing earth quakes, or fires rage:  
here fortune shows the gifts of many an age  
People, and Captains, robbing us of all  
In one sad field: to show, when Rome did fall,  
How great she fell; the more thou didst possess.  
Of earth, the shorter was thy happiness.  
All wars before did land on thee bestow;  
To both the poles Sol saw thy conquests go:  
But that a little of the East: remained,  
Thou all the sky-encompassed globe hadst gained:  
Thine had been night, and day: the stars could shine▪  
And planets wander o'er no land but thine.  
But this one day thy fate as far back bears,  
As 'twas advanced in all those former years.  
This bloody day is cause that India  
The Roman Fasces cannot keep in awe:  
That Consuls do not with their ploughs design  
Sarmatian walls, nor in their bounds confine  
The Scythian Daa, that still Parthians owe  
For the blood lost in Crassus' overthrow.  
That liberty ne'er to return again,  
And flying civil war, her flight has ta'en  
o'er Tigris, and the Rhine; and can be brought  
No more, though with our bloods so often sought:  
Would we had ne'er that happiness possessed,  
Which Scythia, and Germany has blessed:  
Would Rome had ever served, since that first light  
When by the augury of Vultures' flight  
Romulus filled with thieves his walls begun,  
Even till Pharsalia's woeful field was won.  
Brutus we tax; fortune, why did we frame  
Our freedoms, laws, or yeared by Consul's name?  
Happy Arabians, Medes, and Eastern lands,  
That still have lived under their King's commands:  
We last of all (though now ashamed to bow)  
A Monarch's yoke are forced to undergo.  
No gods at all have we: when all things move  
By chance, we falsely think there is a jove.  
Can he down from the starry sky behold  
Thessalia's slaughter, and his thunder held?  
Can he with thunder cleave a senseless tree,  
Pholoe, Oete, harmless Rhodope?  
Must Cassius' hand rather this tyrant slay?  
He at Thyestes feast could shut up day,  
Involving Argos in a sudden night;  
And can he lend Thessalia his light,  
Where brothers fight, and sons 'gainst fathers are?  
For mortal men no god at all takes care.  
But for this woe revenge we do obtain  
As much as fi●ts that earth 'gainst heaven should gain:  
This war our Emperors does equalise  
To gods above, and their soul's deifyes,  
Adorns their heads with thunder, rays, and stars:  
Rome by men's souls in her gods temples swears.  
When both the armies marching on apace,  
near met, stood parted but a little space,  
They viewed each others hands, striving to know  
Each others face, thinking which way to throw  
Their piles, from whence their fates most threatening show  
What monstrous acts they were about to do:  
There they their brothers, and their fathers spied  
Against them stand, yet would not change their side.  
But piety their breasts amazed held,  
And the cold blood in every limb congealed:  
And every soldier his prepared pile,  
And ready stretched-out arm contained a while.  
The gods send thee, o Craestinus, not death  
The common plague, but feeling after breath,  
Whose pile first thrown of all, the fight began,  
And Thessaly with Roman blo●d did stain.  
Oh frantic violence, did Caesar stand  
Quiet, and was there a more forward (b) hand?  
Shrill cornets than began the air to wound,  
Th' alarms beat, and all the trumpets sound:  
The noise, and shouts of soldiers pierce the sky,  
And reach the convexe of Olympus' high,  
Above the thundering clouds: the noise they make  
The Thracian Aemus sounding valleys take:  
High Pelion's caverns echo back the sound,  
Which Pindus, and Pangaean rocks rebound:  
Th'Octaean mountains groan: the soldiers fear  
Their shouts thus echoed from all hills to hear.  
Numberless piles with different minds are thrown;  
Some wish to wound; others to light upon  
The ground, and keep their harmless hands from ill;  
Chance rules them, and makes guilty whom she will.  
But the least part of slaughter here was done  
With darts, and flying steel: the sword al●ne  
Was able civil quarrels to decide,  
And Roman hands 'gainst Roman breasts to guide.  
Pompey's great army narrowly disposed  
In a thick Phalanx stand with bucklers closed  
For fence: but wanted room (their ranks thus filled)  
To throw their piles, their swords, or arms to wield▪  
But Caesar's loose-ranked troops all nimbly go,  
And the thick armed wedges of the foe,  
Making their way through men and steel, assail,  
And through the strongest jointed coats of mail  
Peirce the ill guarded breasts▪ each stroke finds out  
A breast, though ne'er so fenced with arms about.  
One army suffers, other makes the war:  
All cold and guiltless Pompey's weapons are:  
All Caesar's impious swords are reeking hot.  
But fortune here long doubting wavered not;  
She swiftly bore (fitting so great a day)  
A mighty ruin torrent-like away.  
When Pompey's horse o'er all the fields at large  
Had spread their wings, the foes in flank to charge,  
The light armed soldiers scattered all attended,  
And 'gainst the foe their missile weapons bended;  
With their own weapons every nation fought,  
Yet by all hands the Roman blood was sought;  
Arrows, stones, fire, lead headed darts were thrown,  
Which melted in the airs hot motion.  
There th'Ituraeans, Medes, Arabians shot  
Their shafts, good archers all, yet levelled not;  
The air be●ore their eyes was only sought  
By their wild aims, yet death from thence was wrought.  
But no dire crime could stain the foreign steel:  
Nought could work mischief, but the Roman pile.  
The air was darkened with thick arrow's flight,  
Which o'er the fields o'erspread a sudden night.  
Then (c) Caesar fearing lest his front should yield  
To their assault, obliquely cohorts held,  
Which suddenly from the right wing he sent,  
Wither the wheeling horse their forces bend.  
But Pompey's horse unmindful now of fight  
Nor stayed by shame at all, take speedy flight;  
Unhappily (alas) were civil wars  
Left to the trust of barbarous soldiers.  
As soon as ere some galled horse had thrown  
Their riders, and their limbs had trampled on,  
The horsemen fled, and left the field each one,  
Or turning reins upon their fellows run.  
No fight ensues, but execution hot,  
One side with sword, the other with bare throat  
Made war; nor could Caesarian hands suffice  
To execute their routed enemies.  
Oh would the blood that barbarous breasts did yield,  
Could have sufficed Pharsalia's mortal field,  
And that no other blood thy streams might stain:  
Let those bones scattered o'er thy fields remain:  
But if thou wouldst with Roman blood be filled,  
Spare all the nations: Let the Spaniards wild,  
Th' Armenians, Syrians, and Cilicians,  
Galatians, Gauls, and Cappadocians  
Survive: for when this civil war is done,  
These people will be Romans every one.  
These fears once raised through every quarter fly,  
Sent by the fates for Caesar's victory.  
Then came the war to Pompey's Roman power  
The war, that variously had wandered o'er  
The fields, there stuck, there Caesar's fortune stayed:  
No foreign Kings fought there, no barbarous aid  
From several nations to that place was brought:  
There their own brothers, there their fathers fought:  
Mischief, and fury raged: there Caesar, are  
Thy crimes; oh fly from this sad part of war  
My soul, and leave it to eternal night:  
Let no succeeding age by what I write  
Learn how much ill may be in civil fight.  
Or rather let our tears, and sorrows die:  
What here thou didst, O Rome, concealed shall be.  
Caesar th'inciting fury of his men,  
And spur to their blind rage, lest his guilt then  
Should wanting be at all, rides through all parts  
Adding new fury to their fired hearts:  
Viewing their swords, looking whose points with gore  
Were lightly stained, whose blades were bloodyed over:  
Who falter in their blows, who hold their hand,  
Who faintly strike, who fight as by command,  
And who with greediness: who changes look  
To see a Roman sla●ne; himself then took  
Survey of bodies gasping on the ground,  
To let out all the blo●d crushing their wounds;  
As fierce Enyo shakes her bloody lance,  
And Mars incites his warlike Thracians,  
Or drives with furious lashes o'er the field  
His Horses starting at Minerva's shield.  
Black nights of slaughter, and dire deeds arise;  
Like one great voice the dying soldiers cries,  
Clashing of armed breasts falling to ground,  
And swords with swords meeting, and breaking sound.  
He with fresh swords his soldiers still supplies,  
To strike the faces of their enemies,  
Forcing them on, still urging at their back,  
And with his javelin beating on the slack.  
Against the Senate not Plebejan f●es  
He guides their hands, and swords; full well he knows  
Where the laws live, where the states blood does flow:  
Where he may conquer Rome, and overthrow  
The world's last liberty. Together then  
Fall Senators with Roman Gentlemen.  
Those honoured names Metells, Lepidi,  
Corvini and Torqavati slaughtered die,  
That oft commanders o'er great Kings have been,  
And, except Pompey, all the best of men.  
In a Plebejan helm disguised there  
What weapon, noble (d) Bru●us, didst bear?  
The Senate's highest hope, R●mes greatest grace,  
The last of all thy ancient honoured race?  
Through the armed foes rush not too rashly on,  
Nor seek out thy Philip●i●ke fa●e too soon:  
Fate will to thee a Thessaly allot.  
In vain thou aimest there at Caesar's throat:  
He has not yet mounted the top of fate,  
And reached that height, that governs humane state,  
To merit that brave death; no, let him reign,  
That he, as Brutus offering, may he slain.  
here call Rome's honour dies: here heaped on high  
The slaughtered Senate with Plebeians lie.  
But 'mongst those nobles, that to Styx were sent,  
Wa● like Domitius (e) death was eminent  
Whom ●ates had carried through all overthrows;  
Near without him did Pompey's fortune lose:  
Vanquished so oft by Caesar, yet dies now  
With liberty, and gladly falls into  
A thousand wounds, proud that he shall no more  
Be pardoned now. Him weltering in his gore  
Caesar espied, with taunts upbraiding thus,  
Now my successor proud Domitius,  
At length thou shalt forsake thy Pompey's side,  
And war is made without thee. He replied  
With that last breath, which in his dying breast  
Struggled; thou, Caesar, hast not yet possessed  
The dire reward of all thy wickedness:  
But yet art doubtful of thy fate, and less  
Than Pompey: under whom secure I go.  
And a free ghost down to the shades below:  
And dying hope that thou subdued to day  
To ●s, and him for thy misdeeds shalt pay.  
With this last speech away his spirit flies,  
And night eternal closes up his eyes  
We cannot in the world's sad funeral  
Particular tears pay to the death of all,  
Nor search each private fate; whose breast a wound  
Received; who spurned men's hearts upon the ground;  
Who through the mouth received his mortal wound,  
And thence breathed out his soul; who fell to ground  
At the first stroke who stood upright, the while  
His lopt-off limbs fell down; who with a pile  
Was fast nailed to the earth; whose blood spun out,  
And sprinkled all his foes armed breast about;  
Who kills his brother, and, that then he may  
Without shame rifle, throws his head away.  
Who tears his father's face, that standers by  
Conjecture by his too much cruelty  
'twas not his father, whom he robbed of life.  
No death is worthy of particular grief,  
Nor have we time to weep for every wight.  
No other loss was like Pharsalia's fight:  
Rome there by soldiers, here by kingdoms dies:  
There private men's, here nations tragoedyes:  
here flowed Assyrian, Grecian, Pontic blood:  
But all these bloods the powerful Roman flood  
drove through the field away. All people there  
Are deeplyer wounded, than one age can bea●e:  
far more than life, than safety here is gone:  
For all succeeding times we are o'erthrown.  
These swords subdue all ages that shall serve.  
Alas what could posterity deserve  
To be in thraldom bone? fought we with fear?  
Spared we our throats? the punishment we bear  
Of others flight. To us, that since do live,  
Fates should give war, if they a tyrant give.  
Pompey perceived Rome's fate, and gods were gone,  
In all this loss not moved for his own  
Ill hap. Ascending a small hill to see  
The slaughters all, that covered Thessaly,  
Which, while the war endured could not be spied:  
He thence discerned how many people died,  
How many swords reach at his destiny,  
In how much blood he falls, nor wishes he  
(As wretches use) all with himself to drown,  
And mix the nations ruin with his own:  
But for survival of most part of men  
He deigns to think the gods even worthy then  
Of prayers from him, and makes this to be  
His sorrow's comfort; spare, ye gods, quoth he  
To sink all nations: Pompey (if you lift)  
Although the world remain, and Rome subsist,  
May be made wretched; if more wounds on me  
You would inflict, a wife and sons have I:  
So many pledges have we given to fate.  
Is't nought for civil war to ruinate  
Me, and my house? are we a loss so small  
Without the world? why wouldst thou ruin all  
Fortune? now nought is mine. With that he rides  
Through his distressed troops, and on all sides  
Sounds a retreat, from death calling them back,  
Thinking himself not worth so great a wrack.  
Nor lacked he spirit their weapons to defy  
With throat or breast, but feared, if he should die,  
No soldier than would fly, but there would fall,  
And all the world ●y with their general,  
Or out of Caesar's sight a death he sought  
In vain: thy head to Caesar must be brought,  
Where ere he please to see't. His wife's dear sight  
Another reason was that caused his flight.  
For in her sight the fates his death decreed.  
Then Pompey mounted on a gallant steed,  
Fled from the field, fearing no swords behind,  
But bearing still a fate-vnconquered mind:  
No sighs, nor tears he spent: with majesty  
His grief was mixed, such as befitted thee  
Pompey, in Rome's calamity to show.  
With looks unchanged didst thou Aemathia view.  
That mind, which wars success could near erect  
To pride, wars losses cannot now deject.  
fortune's as far below thy wretched fate,  
As she was false to thy triumphant state.  
Securely now from Empire's burden free  
Thou goest; and on thy past prosperity  
Hast time to look: all boundless hopes are gone;  
And what thou wert may now be truly known.  
Fly this dire battle, and to wit●esse call  
The gods, that none for thy sake, Pompey, fall,  
That stay behind thee; in Thessalia,  
No more than Egypt, Munda, Africa,  
The battle's greatest part fought not for thee:  
Nor shall the honoured name of Pompey be  
Wars quarrel now; the foes that still will be  
'Mongst us, are Caesar, and Rom●s liberty:  
And 'twill appear more plain after thy flight  
Thy dying Senate for themselves did fight.  
Let thy flight comfort thee, thou shalt not see  
Those blood-stained troops, nor their impiety;  
The rivers swelled with blood look back, and see,  
And pity Caesar: with what heart can be  
Revisit Rome, made happier by this field?  
What banishment in foreign lands can yield  
To thee by thee what ere can be endured  
Under th'Aegyptian tyrant, rest assured  
The gods; and favouring fates, as best, prefer;  
'twere worse for thee to be the conqueror  
Let all the people wail and weep no more,  
But dry their tears, and let the world adore  
As well thy ruin, as prosperity.  
Look upon Kings with a commanding eye,  
Egypt, and Libyas Kings, whom th●u hast crowned,  
And cities buil● by thee and choose a ground  
Where thou wilt die. Larissa town beheld  
(First witness of thy fall) fled from the field  
Thy noble self unconquered by the fates.  
Whose Citizens all issuing forth the gates  
To meet thee (as if Conqueror) they went,  
And gifts from love, and sorrow did present:  
They open thei● temples, and their houses all:  
And wish themselves partakers of his fall:  
Much of his great name's left: in his own eye  
He seems the least: nations would help him tr●●,  
Once more his fortune, and renew the war.  
He cries be faithful to the Conqueror:  
What should the conquered do with towns and men?  
Thou Caesar, thy country's bowels than  
Wert wading through Pharsalia's bloody field,  
Whilst people's loves to thee he reconciled.  
Pompey rides thence: the people sigh, and cry,  
And rail against each cruel deity  
The people's favour now is truly proved:  
Whilst great, thou couldst not know thyself beloved.  
When Caesar saw the field with Roman blood  
Was overflowed enough, he thought it good  
His swords from execution to refrain,  
And spare poor lives, that would have died in vain.  
But left the foes should to their camp in flight  
Retire, and rest should banish terror quite;  
He strait determines to assault their wall,  
Whilst fortune's hot, and terror works in all,  
Nor does he think that this command appears  
Too harsh, too hot, and wearied soldiers:  
Small exhortation leads them to the prey.  
Our victory (quoth he) is full to day,  
And for our blood nought is remaining now  
But the reward: which 'tis my part to show,  
I cannot say to give, what every man  
Shall give himself; behold yond tents that stand  
Full of all riches: there gold raked in Spain,  
There th' Eastern Nations treasuryes remain:  
Pompey's, and all those King's estates do lack  
Possessors, soldiers: run, and overtake  
Whom you pursue: and what so ere to you  
Pharsalia gives, take from the conquered now.  
This speech of Caesar's, and golds impious love  
Over the swords the furious soldiers drove,  
To tread on Senators, and Captains slain,  
What trench, what bulwark could their force sustain?  
Seeking the price of all their wars, and sin,  
To know for what they have so guilty been  
Spoiling the world they found a wealthy mass,  
Which for wars future charges gathered was:  
But their all-covering thoughts could not be filled  
With what Spa●nes mines, and Tagus' streams could yield,  
Or on their sands rich Arimaspians find;  
Though all the spoils be theirs, yet in their mind  
Their mischief at too cheap a sale they vent,  
And are bid loss in spoiling of these tents,  
When to himself the Conqueror Rome decreed  
And in that hope whole mountains promised:  
Patricians tents impious Plebejans keep,  
In King's pavilions common soldiers sleep;  
On brothers, and on father's empty beds  
The killers lay their patricidal heads;  
But furious dreams disturb their restless rest;  
Thessalia's fight remains in every breast▪  
Their horrid guilt still wakes; the battle stands  
In all their thoughts: they brandish empty hands,  
Without their swords: you would have thought the field▪  
Haddit groaned, and that the guilty earth did yield  
Exhaled spirits, that in the air did move,  
And Stygian fears possessed the night above.  
A sad revenge on them their conquest takes;  
Their sleeps present the furies hissing snakes,  
And brands; their countrymen's sad ghosts appear:  
To each the image of his proper fear:  
One sees an old man's visage, one a young,  
Another's tortured all the evening long  
With his slain brother's spirit: their father's sight  
Daunts some: but Caesar's soul all ghosts aff●ight.  
Orestes so, not purged in Scythia,  
Th' Eumenideses affrighting faces saw;  
Not more was Pentheus in Agave's fit  
Dismayed, nor she, when she was freed from it.  
Him all the swords that dire Pharsalia saw,  
And which the Senate in revenge should draw,  
Oppress that night, and Hellish-monsters scourge.  
But that, which most his guilty soul did urge,  
Was this, that S●yx, the fiends, and furies grim  
(Pompey being yet alive) had seized on him.  
But having suffered all, when days clear light  
Displayed Pharsalia's slaughter to his sight,  
No dismal objects could ●uert his eyes  
From thence; the rivers swelled with blood he sees,  
And heaps of bodies aequalling high hills,  
And carcases, whence blood, and filth distils,  
He numbers Pompey's people, and that place  
Ordains for banqueting, from whence each face  
He might discern, and know them as they lie,  
Proud that Aemathia's earth he cannot see,  
Or scarce discern the slaughter-covered ground.  
In blood his fortune, and his gods he found.  
And with that joyful sight to feed his eyes,  
To the wretched souls he funeral fire denies,  
Making Aemathia noisome to the air.  
Carthage, that gave our consul's sepulchre,  
And Libyan fire on Cannae did confer,  
Could not teach him his enemies t'inter:  
Remembering still (his anger not even then  
With slaughter slacked) they were his country men.  
We do not several fires, or tombs desire:  
Do but to all these nations grant one fire;  
And let them not on piles distinct be brent.  
Or if thou aim at Pompey's punishment,  
Piled up let Pindus' wood, and Ossa be,  
That he from sea Pharsalia's fire may see.  
This anger boots thee not; fort is all one  
Whether the fire, or putrefaction  
Dissolve them; all to nature's bosom go,  
And to themselves their ends the bodies owe.  
If now these nations, Caesar, be not burned,  
They shall, when earth, and seas to flames are turned.  
One fire shall burn the world, and with the sky  
Shall mix these bones; where ere thy soul shall be,  
Their souls shall go; in air thou shalt not fly  
Higher, nor better in Avernus lie.  
Death frees from fortune: Earth receives again  
What ever she brought forth: and they obtain  
Heaven's coverture, that have no urns at all.  
Thou that deniest these nation's funeral,  
Why dost thou fly these slaughter smelling fields?  
Breath, if thou canst, the air this region yields,  
Or drink this water, Caesar, but from thee  
The rotting people challenge Thessaly,  
And keep possession 'gainst the conqueror.  
To the sad food of this Aemathian war,  
Scenting from far the blood's corruption  
The Thracian wolves, Arcadian lions run:  
Bears from their dens, dogs from their kennels come:  
And all those ravenous creatures else, on whom  
Nature bestows the strongest scents, full well  
The air by carrion putrified to smell.  
Hither all birds of prey assembled are,  
That long had waited on this civil war:  
Birds, that from Thrace to Nile in winter go,  
Stayed longer then, than they were wont to do:  
Near did more birds of prey in one air fly,  
Nor did more vultures ever cloud the sky;  
From every wood came foul: each tree was filled  
With bloody birds, that crimson drops distilled  
down from the air blood, and corruption reigned  
The conquerors face, and impious eagles stained.  
Birds from their weary tallands oft let fall  
Gobbets of flosh; nor were the people all  
Consumed so, buried in bird, or beast,  
Which would not on their bowels fully feast,  
Nor suck their marrow all, but lightly taste;  
The greatest part of Roman flesh is cast  
Disdained away: which by the Sun, and time  
Dissolved, is mixed with Thessalian slime.  
Unhappy Thessaly, what hast thou done  
T' offend the angry gods, that thee alone  
So many deaths, and impious fates should stain?  
What age, what length of time can purge again  
The gu●lt that thou hast wrought? what corn in thee  
And grass with blood discoloured shall not be?  
What plough share, but some Roman ghost shall wound?  
Before that time new battles on thy ground  
Shall be; and impious civil wars shall stain  
Thy fields (before this blood be dry) again.  
If all the graves of our dead ancestors  
We should turn up, their tombs that stand, and theirs  
Whose time-consumed urns have cast abroad  
Th'enclosed dust: more ashes would be trod,  
And bones by harrows teeth digged up, and found  
In the sad furrows of Thessalia's ground.  
No Mariners had sailed from thy shore,  
Nor Husbandmen had ploughed thee any more,  
The Roman people's grave; thy ghostly field  
Had no inhabitant for ever tilled:  
No herds of cattle on thy plains had run.  
Nor durst the shepherds feed their flocks upon  
Thy pasture fields, with Roman blood manured:  
Nor habitable nor to be endured,  
(As in the torrid, or cold i y zone)  
Shouldst thou have lain, forsaken, and unknown,  
If thou hadst been not first, but only seat  
Of wicked war▪ Oh give us leave to hate  
This guilty land; ye gods▪ why do you stain  
The world, t'absolue it so? the blood in Spain,  
Sicilian seas, Mutina, Leucas spilt  
Has quite absolved Philippi fields from guilt.  
FINIS Libri Septims.   

Annotations on the seventh Book.  
(a) The same day when this great Pharsalian field was fought, an Augur C. Cornelius being then at Milan, observing his rules of augury, told unto them that stood by him the very instant when the battle began: and going alaine to his art, returned as it were inspired, and cries out with a loud voice, Caesar the day is thine.  
(b) This Chrastinus was an old Soldier of Caesar's army, and now Emeritus, that is freed from the duties of the war, but for love of Caesar served in this war a voluntary, he desiring to give the onset spoke thus to Caesar; I hope, Caesar, this day so to behave myself, that thou shalt thank me either alive or dead; he was slain, run through the mouth.  
(c) When Caesar perceived that his horsemen could not withstand the force of Pompey's horsemen and archers, he drew forth 3000 men which for that purpose he had placed in the right wing, they with such fury assaulted Pompey's horsemen, that they all fled; after whose flight all the archers wanting their defence were without resistance slain.  
(d) Marcus Brutus was there fight in Plebeian armour, and scaped the knowledge of Caesar's soldiers This was that Brutus, that joining afterward with Cassius, was with him Vanquished in the Philippian fields by Octavius and Antonius; after which battle all hope of Roman liberty was for ever lost.  
(e) L. Domitius was by the Senate's decree to succeed Caesar in the government of France; In this war taking Pompey's side he was at Corfinium by his own soldiers brought bound to Caesar, and by him pardoned: afterward in Massilla he was vanquished by D. Brutus, Caesar's Lieutenant, and fled.   

LUCAN'S Pharsalia. The Eight Book.  
The Argument.  
Through devious deserts vanquished Pompey flies,  
And sails to Lesbos; whence with weeping eyes  
He takes his wife In several flying fleets  
Sextus, and other Roman Lords he meets.  
Deiotarus the Gallogracian King  
Is sent to great Arsacides, to bring  
To aid of Pompey's side the Parthian bows.  
The Lords consult where to retire, and chose  
Egypt's base shore. Th'unthankful king betrays  
Old Pompey coming: and before the face  
Of Sextus, and Cornelia, ere he lands,  
By base Achillas, and Septimius hands  
Great Pompey dies. By night poor Codrus comes,  
And on the shore his half burnt trunk entombs  
Without the head. The author doth inveigh  
'Gainst treachereous Egypt, and base Ptolemey.  
o'er woody Tempe, and th' Herculean straits  
Following th'Aemonian woods desert retreats  
(Though far about) great Pompey road; his steed  
Quite spent past help of spur had lost his speed.  
Through devious ways he turns, and leaves behind  
No track of his uncertain flight; the wind  
Filling the shaken woods with murmuring noises  
Made him afraid, and his own followers voices,  
That road behind, and by him For (although  
Fallen from his height of former fortunes now)  
He thinks his blood set at no vulgar rate:  
But as high prized (still mindful of his fate)  
By Caesar, as himself for Caesar's head  
Would give. But through the deserts as he fled,  
His presence, and majestic face denied  
A safe concealment; many, as they hied  
Unto his camie, and had not heard his fall,  
Stood in amaze to meet their general:  
Wondering at fortunes turns, and scarce is he  
Beleft, relating his own mis●ry.  
He grieves that any his low state should see,  
And wishes rather in all lands to be  
Unknown, and through the world obscurely go.  
But fortunes ancient favour brings this woe  
His present sinking state more to depress  
By honour's weight, and former happiness.  
Now he perceives he did too early clime,  
Blames his triumphant youth in Sylla's time.  
And grieves to thin●e upon, in these sad days,  
His Pontic lausell, or Pyratick● bays.  
So too long age greatest happiness destroys,  
And life surviving Empire; former joys  
Breed grief, unless wi●h them our end be sent,  
A●d timely death ensuing worse prevent  
Let none but with a mind prepared to die,  
Dare to adventure on prosperity.  
Now to the shore be came, where Peneus ran  
Red with Pharsalia's slaughter to the main.  
There a (a) small bark unfit for seas, and winds,  
Scarce safe in shallowest rivers, Pompey finds,  
And goes aboard▪ He, with whose navyes oars  
Even yet Corcyra shakes, and Leucas shores,  
That tamed Cicilia, and Liburnia,  
Goes fearful now in a small bark to sea.  
To Lesbos shore his sails commanded are  
By thee, Cornelia, conscious of his care,  
Where thou then layest, far more with sorrow filled,  
Then if th'hadst been in dire Pharsalia's field.  
Thy careful breast still sad presages shake,  
And fears thy restless slumbers still awake.  
Each night presents Thessalia: when night's done,  
To th'shore, and sea orehanging rocks begun  
With woe, to view the Ocean's face, she hies,  
And still all ships, that come, she first espies,  
But dares ask nothing of her husband's state.  
Lo now a ship that comes; alas what fate  
It brings, thou know'st not; but behold thy fears,  
Thy cares whole sum, thy vanquished lord appears  
Himself the sad relater of wars crime.  
Why now lamentest thou not, thus losing time?  
When thou may'st weep, thou fearest, the ship drawn nigh,  
She runs, and sees the crime of destiny,  
Pompey palefaced, his hoary hairs hung down  
o'er his sad brow, his garments squalid grown.  
Then grief contracts her soul: a sudden night  
Invades her sense, and reaves her eyes of light;  
Her nerue-forsaken joints all fail: cold is  
Her heart; deceived with hope of death she lies:  
But Pompey landed searches the shores side;  
Whom when Cornelia's maids now near espied,  
They durst not on fate's cruelty complain,  
More than with silent sighs, striving in vain  
To lift their lady up; whom in his arms  
Great Pompey takes, and with embraces warms  
Her keycold breast. But when the fled blood fills  
Her outward parts, Husband's hand she feels,  
And better brooks his visage; he forbid  
Her veiled to fate, and thus her sorrow chid.  
Why is thy noble strength of courage broke  
(Woman descended from so great a stock)  
By the first wound of fate? thou hast the way  
To purchase fame, that never shall decay,  
Thy sex's praise springs not from war, or state,  
But faithful love to an unhappy mate.  
Advance thy thoughts, and let thy piety  
Contend with fortune: love me now cause I  
Am conquered, sweet, 'tis more true praise for thee  
To love me thus, when all authority,  
The sacred Senate, and my Kings are gone.  
Begin to love thy Pompey now alone.  
That grief extreme, thy husband yet alive,  
Becomes thee not; thou shouldst that sorrow give  
To my last funerals, thou art bereft  
Of nothing by this war: thy Pompey's left  
Alive and safe: his fortunes only gone:  
'Tis that thou wail'st, and that thou loudest alone.  
Chid by her Husband thus, by shames constraint  
She rise, and uttered this most sad complaint.  
Would I to hated Caesar had been led  
A bride, since happy to no Husband's bed.  
Twice have I hurt the world: my bridal lights  
Erinnys, and th'unhappy Crassi's sprights  
Carried; accursed by those ghosts I hare  
Th' Assyrian fortune to this civil war.  
I was the cause that all these nations died,  
And all the gods forsook the juster side.  
O greatest Lord, worthy of better fate  
Then my sad marriage: had dire fortunes hate  
Such power on thee? why did I marry thee  
To make thee wretched? take revenge on me,  
Which willingly I'll pay; to make the sea  
More passable, King's faiths more firm to thee,  
And all the world more hospitable, drown  
Me by the way, oh would this life had gone  
Before to get thee victory, but now  
Dear Pompey expiate thine overthrow.  
Where ere thou liest, o cruel julia,  
Revenged already in Pha●salia,  
Come wreak thine anger, et thy strumpet's death  
Appease thy wrath, and spare thy Pompey's breath.  
This said, and sinking in his arms, her fall  
Again drew tears from the spectators all:  
Pompey's great heart relented, and that eye  
Wept there, that in Pharsalia's field was dry.  
The M●tylenaeans then thus on the shore  
Bespoke great Pompey; if for evermore  
It shall our honour be to have preserved  
Thy dearest pledge, if we have so deserved:  
To grace the city of thy servants deign,  
And here with us, though but one night, remain;  
Make this a place honoured for evermore,  
A place, that Roman pilgrims may adore.  
Our town before all towns thou shouldst approve;  
For all towns else may hope for Caesar's love:  
We have already trespassed; further yet  
This is an I'll, and Caesar wants a fleet;  
Besides, thy nobles know this place, and here  
Will meet; thy fates on this known shore repair:  
Take our god's wealth, our temples gold, and bands  
Of our young men to serve by sea, or land:  
Take thou (though conquered) Lesbos forces here,  
Lest Caesar press them as the Conqueror.  
Oh clear this faithful land of that foul crime,  
That thou, which loudest us in thy prosperous time,  
Shouldst fear our faith in thy adversity.  
Glad of these men's so wondrous piety  
For the world's sake, that some fidelity  
Was left to wretched states, this land (quoth he)  
That I of all the world most dear esteemed  
By this great pledge I left with you it seemed  
She was the hostage that my love was here,  
That here my household gods, and country were;  
here was my Rome, fled from the field, before  
I came to you, I toutched upon no shore;  
Knowing that Lesbos in preserving her  
Had purchased Caesar's i●e, I did not fear  
To give you cause your p●rdons all to plead;  
Let it suffice that I your guilt have made:  
I must through all the world my fates pursue.  
Oh happy ●esbos, ever famed; from you  
People, and Kings shall learn fidelity  
To us, or faithful you alone shall be.  
Which lands are true, which false I now must try.  
Hear o ye gods, it any gods with me  
Remain, my last of prayers, grant us to find  
A land like Le●bos, whose sti●l faithful mind  
Dares give safe landing to our conquered state,  
And parting safe not fearing Caesar's hate.  
His sad companion then aboard he took.  
You would have thought all Lesbos had forsook  
Their nat●ue soil exiled: so great a cry  
Was raised, and woeful hands heaved to the sky  
All o'er the shore, for Pompey lest of all,  
(Though he deserved their sorrow by his fill)  
But seeing her depart, whom they had seen  
All this war time, as their own citizen,  
The people wept; of her the matrons dry  
From tears, could hardly have ta'en leave, though she  
Unto her lord a Conqueror had gone:  
She so had gained the love of every one  
By virtuous, courteous carriage, modesty  
Of a chaste look: proud to no company:  
Lowly to all, and such her life was seen  
While her lord stood, as he had conquered been.  
Now Titan's orb half drowned in the seas  
Gave pa●t to us, part to th' Antipodes:  
When care in Pompey's restless bosom runs  
Sometimes on Rome's confederate states, and towns,  
And kings uncertain faiths, sometimes upon  
The South-scorched regions of the torrid zone:  
Sometimes, as too sad burdens, he lays by  
His wearied cares of future destiny,  
Ask the master of each star, and where  
He guesses land: what rules heaven gives to steer  
His ship at sea: what stars to Syria guide:  
Which of Boötes' fires to Lybia's side  
Directs; to this the master thus replies:  
We follow not those stars, which through the skies  
Do slide, and pass away▪ unconstant stars  
In the unfixt pole deceive the mariners;  
That pole, that never falls, ne'er drowns in sea  
Famous for Cynosure, and Helice,  
Doth gui●●e our ships, when ere that stars got up  
Right vertical, just o'er the saileyards top,  
Then to the Bosphorus we make apace,  
And sea●, that Synthiaes' crooked shores embrace.  
But when more low, and nearer to the sea  
Artophil●x, and Cynosura be,  
Then to the Syrian po●ts our course we steer:  
Cano●us then is elevated there,  
Which fears the North, and in the Southern skies  
Remains alone. Who thence to th'left hand plies  
(Pharos over passed) into the Syrteses falls  
But whither now shall we direct our sails?  
To whom with doubtful thoughts Pompey replies:  
In all the course at sea observe but this,  
To keep thy ship still far from Thessaly,  
And to the heavens, and seas leave Italy,  
The rest trust to the winds; I now have ta'en  
My dear left pledge Cornelia in again.  
I than was certain whither to resort,  
But now let fortune find us out a p●rt.  
Thus Pompey spoke; the master straightway turns  
About his sails stretched out with equal horns,  
And to the left hand guides the ship, to plow  
Those waves, that 'twixt Chios, and Asia flow,  
To the ships length he turns his sails about.  
The sea perceives the change: her waves are cut  
By the sharp stem with different motion.  
The skilful Charioteer not half so soon  
Reins round his horse, and doth with sudden change  
About the goal his wheeling chariot range.  
Sol hid the stars, and land discovered,  
When those, that from Pharsalia's battle fled,  
To Pompey came; and first from Lesbos shores  
He met his son; then Kings, and Senators.  
For Pompey yet (although at that sad time  
Vanquished, and fled) had Kings to wait on him▪  
Proudly sceptered Kings, that o'er the East did reign,  
Attended there in banished Pompey's train.  
Then Pompey King Deiotarus commands  
To go for aid to farthest Eastern lands.  
Most loyal King, since on Pharsalia's plains  
This world was lost from Rome, it now remains  
To try the East, those that by Tigris lie,  
And by Euphrates yet from Caesar free.  
Grieve not, though to repair my fortunes lost,  
Thou to the Medes, or farthest Scythians go'st,  
Or quite beyond the day, that this world sees.  
Bear my salutes to great Arsacides;  
And if our ancient league remain, which I  
By Latian jove, by his own deity  
He swore let the Armenian archers strong,  
Their well-bent bows, and quivers bring along:  
If you, O Parthians, undisquieted  
I ever left, when I pursued the fled  
Unquiet Alans to the Caspian strait,  
And forced you not for safety to retreat  
To Babylon: marching o'er Cyrus' ground,  
And the Chaldaean kingdoms utmost bound,  
Appearing nearer than the Persian  
To the Suns rise, where into th' Ocean  
Nysas, Hydaspes, and swift Ganges fall,  
Suffered you only, when I conquered all,  
To go vntriumphed: Parthias King alone  
Of all th' Easts monarches, scaped subjection.  
Nor once alone do you your safety owe  
To me; who after Crassus' overthrow,  
Appeased the just incensed wrath of Rome?  
For all my merits now let Parthia come  
Out of her bounds appointed, and pass o'er  
Greek Zeugmas walls, and the forbidden shore.  
Conquer for Pompey: Rome will lose the day  
Gladly. The King refused not to obey  
(Though hard were his command; laying aside  
His kingly robes, and in a servants weed  
Attired he goes; in a distressed time  
'Tis safe for Kings like poorest men to seem.  
Therefore how much lives he, that's truly poor,  
Safer than Kings? The King took leave at shore.  
And by the Icarion rocks great Pompey gone  
Leaves Ephesus and sea-calme Colophon:  
Shaving small Samos foaming rocks he goes:  
A gentle gale blows from the shore of Cos:  
Gindon, and Phebus-honoured Rhodes he leaves,  
And sailing strait in the mid-Ocean saves  
Telmessums long, and winding circuits. First  
Pamphylia greets their eyes; but Pompey durst  
Commit his person to no town, but thee  
Little Phaselis: thy small company,  
And few inhabitants could not cause a fear,  
More in the ship then in thy walls there were.  
But sailing thence again, high Tau●us shows  
Itself; and Dipsas, that from Taurus flows.  
Could Pompey think, when erst he cleared the seas  
Of Pirate's rage, it purchased his own ease?  
He now flies safe along Cicilian shores  
In a small ship▪ there many Senators  
Following o'ertake their flying general  
Within the haven of Celendrae small,  
Where in and out ships on Selinus past.  
In full assembly of the lords at last  
Thus sadly Pompey spoke; my Lords, whose sight  
(As dear companions bot● in war, and flight)  
I do esteem my country, though we stand  
On a bare shore, in poor Cicilian land,  
Attended with no force, advice to take,  
And new provision for a war to make,  
Yet bring courageous hearts: I lost not all  
In Thessaly, nor did my fortune fall  
So low, but that this head again may rise.  
Could Marius after all his miseries  
In Libya, rise to a seaventh Consulship?  
And me so lightly fallen will fortune keep?  
A thousand Captains on the Grecian sea,  
A thousand ships I have: Pharsalia  
Has rather scattered, then quite overthrown  
My strength: but me my actions fame alone  
Which all the earth have seen, my name, that now  
The whole world loves, shall guard▪ Consider you  
Th' Egyptian, Libyan, Parthian monarchies,  
B●th in their strength, and faith, and then advise  
Which fittest is to aid Roms' labouring state.  
But I; my Lords, will to your ears relate  
Freely my secretest cares, and tell the truth  
How I incline; I do suspect the youth  
Of Egypt's King; for true fidelity  
Requires strong years; I fear the subtlety,  
And double heart of Mauritania's King;  
Remembering Carthage, whence his race did spring,  
He gapes for Italy, and his vain breast  
Is much with thought of Hannibal possessed;  
Whose blood commixed with th'old Numidi●ns  
Obliquely Iuba's pedigree distaines.  
He swelled to see Varus a suppliant grown,  
And Roman fates inferior to his own.  
Therefore, my Lords, to th' Eastern world let us  
Retire; Euphrates with a spacious  
Channel divides the world; the Caspian straits  
On other side yield safe, and large retreats;  
Another pole measures th' Assyrian days,  
And nights: another colour bear the seas,  
Severed from ours; their ainge is sovereignty:  
Their bows more strong, their steeds more fierce, and high  
Than ours, no boy, nor aged man wants skill,  
Or strength to shoot: deadly their arrows kill.  
Their bows first brook Pellaean spears, and won  
Th' Assyrian wall-renowned Babylon,  
And Median Bactra. Nor so fearful are  
The Parthians of our piles, but that they dare  
Come out to war against us, they have tried  
Their shafts sufficiently when Crassus died.  
Nor are their trusty shafts armed at the head  
With steel alone, but deadly venomed:  
'Slight wounds are mortal, and the least blood drawn  
Will kill. Oh would on the fierce Parthian  
I were not forced to depend: their fate  
Does too too much Rome's fortune emulate:  
Too many gods aid them. He draw from home  
Some other nations of the East to come  
To war. But if Barbarians leagues deceive  
Our hopes or else our scorned alliance leave;  
Let fortune then our sad, and shipwrecked state  
Beyond the known, and trafficked world translate;  
I will not sue to Kings whom I have made,  
But in my death this comfort shall be had  
Lying far off this body shall not be  
Subject to Caesar's rage, nor piety  
But there revolving my whole life's past fate  
Still honoured in those parts was Pompey's state.  
How great has Eastern Tanais me seen?  
How great beyond Maeotis have I been;  
Into what lands did my victorious name  
More sound, or whence in greater triumph came?  
Favour my purpose Rome, what happier  
Can the go is grant thee, then in civil war  
To use the Parthian arms to overthrow  
That land, and mix their ruin with our woe?  
When the fierce Parthians have with Caesar fought  
Crassus' revenge, or mine must needs be wrought,  
This said he heard their murmur to condemn  
His plot. But Lentulus 'mongst all of them  
In spirit, and noble grief the forwardest man  
Thus (worthy his late Consulship) began.  
Has the Pharsalian loss so broke thy mind?  
Has one days fate the world so low declined?  
Doth that one battle our whole cause decide,  
And no cure left to help our wounded side?  
Is no hope left thee, Pompey▪ but to sue  
At the proud Parthians feet; wouldst thou eschew  
All lan●s, and climes, and thither aim thy flight,  
Where cross poles reign, and unknown stars give light,  
T'adore the Parthians, and their deities,  
Chaldaean fires, and Barbarous sacrifice?  
Why in this war pretendest thou liberty?  
Why is the wretched world deceived by thee,  
If thou canst serve? whose name they trembled at,  
As the chief ruler of the roman fate,  
Whom they have seen lead captive Kings before  
From wild Hyrcania, and the Indian shore,  
Shall they now see cast down, and broke by fate,  
Measuring themselves by Pompey's begging state,  
With Rome, and Italy aspire t'enherit?  
Thou canst spoke nothing worth thy fate, and spirit:  
Their ignorance i'th' Roman tongue requires  
That thou in tears shouldst utter thy desires.  
Wouldst thou so wound our shame, that not from Rome,  
But Parthia the revenge of Rome should come?  
She chose thee General of her civil war.  
Why dost thou spread her loss, and wounds so far  
As Scythia, and teach Parthia to go  
Beyond her bound? Rome shall in her deep woe  
This special comfort lose of bringing in  
No Kings, but serving her own citizen.  
Canst thou delight from farthest parts to come  
Leading fierce nations 'gainst the walls of Rome,  
Following those Eagles, that slain Crassus lost?  
That only King, that from th' Aemathian (a) host  
Was absent (fortune did his favour guide)  
Will he provoke the Conquerors strong side,  
And join with vanquished Pompey, think you? no,  
We have no cause to trust that nation so,  
The people all borne in the Northern cold  
Are lovers of the war, hardy, and bold;  
But in the East, and Southern climes, the heat  
Of gentle air makes them effeminate.  
Their men soft clothing; and loose garments wear.  
Parthians upon the Median fields, and where  
Along Sarmatian plains swift Tigris flows,  
By liberty of flight can by no foes  
Be vanquished; but where the earth does swell,  
o'er craggy hills they cannot climb so well:  
Nor in dark places can they use the bow:  
Nor dare they swim torrents that swiftly flow:  
Nor in the field with blood all over died  
Dare they the dust, and Summer Sun abide;  
No rams, nor engines can the Parthian use,  
Nor fill the trenches up: when he pursues,  
What ere is arrow-profe, serves for a wall,  
'Slight are their wa●s, their fights like flyings all;  
They straggling fight, apt to fly then stand.  
Their arrows venomed are, nor close at hand  
Dare they maintain a fight: far off with bows  
They shoot, and where it lists the wind bestows  
Their wounds; but fight of sword does strength require●  
All manly nations the swordfight desire.  
At the first on set they'll disarmed be,  
And when their quivers are exhausted, must flee;  
Their trust in poison is, not in their hands.  
Think'st thou them men, Pompey, that dare not stand  
Without such helps, the hazard of a fight?  
Can such base aid be worth so long a flight?  
For thee so far from thine own land to die,  
And under barbarous earth entombed to lie  
In a base monument, yet such a one  
As will he envied, Crassus having none?  
Thy state is not so pitiful: for death  
(Nor feared by men) ends all: but loss of breath  
Under that wicked King Cornelia fears not.  
The Venus of those barbarous courts who hears not?  
Which like bruit beasts all wedlock's rites exile,  
And with wife's numberless all laws defile:  
Th'incestuous bed's abhorred secrets lie  
open to a thousand concubines; raised high  
With wine, and banqueting, the King refrains  
No lawless lust, though ne'er so full of stains:  
Th' embraces of so many women can  
Not all the night tyre one insatiate man;  
In King's incestuous beds their sisters lie,  
And mothers, which should names unstained be.  
O●dipus woeful tale condemns alone  
Thebes of a crime, though ignorantly done:  
But there how often does the Parthian King  
Arsacides from such foul incest spring?  
What can be wickedness to him, that may  
Defile his mother? shall Cornelia  
Metellus noble progeny be led  
The thousand'th wife to a Barbarians bed?  
Yet none more often will the tyrant use  
Then her: her husband's titles will infuse  
A scornful lust: and, which will please him more,  
He'll know that she was Crassus' wife before,  
And comes, (as fate did her to Parthia owe)  
A captive for that former overthrow.  
Think on that slaughter: 'twill not only bring  
Shame, to have begged aid from that fatal King,  
But to have made a civil war before;  
For what will Caesar, and thyself be more  
Accused by all, then that, while you two fought,  
There could for Crassus no revenge be wrought?  
'Gainst Parthia all our armies should have gone:  
And that no strength might want, from garrison  
Our Northern lands should have been freed each one,  
Till treacherous ●usa, and proud Babylon  
Had fallen for tombs upon our slaughtered men.  
Of Parthian peace, fortune, we beg an end;  
And, if Thessalia end the civil war,  
Against the Parthian send thy Conqueror:  
Of all the world I should rejoice alone  
At Caesar's triumphs o'er that nation.  
When thou the cold Araxis streams hast crossed,  
Shall not the slaughtered Crassus' mourning ghost  
Upbraid thee? thou, whom our unburied ghosts  
Long since expected with revenging hosts,  
Comest thou to sue for peace? besides thine eyes  
Sad monuments of Roman tragoedyes  
Shall greet the walls, on which our Captain's heads  
Were fixed: where bodies of our soldiers dead  
Euphrates swallowed and swift Tigris stream  
Rolled back again to earth. If thou to them  
Canst sue, why, Pompey, dost thou scorn to pray  
To Caesar sitting in Thessalia?  
Look rather upon Rome's confederates,  
And if thou do suspect the Southern states,  
And Iuba's falsehood, go to Ptolomey;  
Egypt by Lybian quickesands Westerly  
Is guarded: on the East fall Nile's seven floods,  
To th' sea; a land content with her own goods;  
A land that needs nor rain, nor merchandise,  
So much on only Nilus she relies.  
Young Ptolemey reigns there, that owes his crown  
To thee, once left to thy tuition.  
Fear not the shadow of a name: no hurt  
Can be in tender years: in an old court  
Let not religion, faith, or trust be sought:  
Men used to sceptres are ashamed of nought:  
The mildest government a kingdom finds  
Under new kings. This speech quite turned their minds.  
How are despairing states most free and bold?  
Pompey's opinion is by all controlled.  
They leave Cilicia, and to Cyprus move  
Their course. No land does Venus better love  
Still mindful of her birth (if we at all  
Think gods were borne, or had original)  
Pompey departing thence his course 'gan bend  
Round all the Cyprian rocks, that Southward tend,  
And got into the enterposed maine;  
Nor by the night's weak light could he attain  
Mount Casius; but with struggling sails, and strength  
A lower port of Egypt reached at length,  
Where parted Nilus' greatest channel flows  
And to the Ocean at Pelusium goes.  
That time was come, wherein just Libra weighs  
The hours, and makes the night's equal with days:  
Then pays the winter nights hours, which the spring  
Had ta'en away. They, hearing that the King  
Was at mount Casius, thither make repair:  
The Sun yet was not down, the wind blew fair.  
The s●outs along the shore post to the court,  
And fill their fearful ears with the report  
Of Pompey's coming; though their time were small  
For counsel, yet the Egyptian monsters all  
Were met: 'mongst whom Achoreus began,  
Whom age taught modesty, a mild old man,  
(Him superstitious Memphys, that observed  
Th' increase of Nile, brought forth: while he had served  
At the gods altars, not one Apis lived  
Five changes of the Moon) his speech revived  
The sacred league of Ptolomey's dead father,  
And Pompey's merits; but Photinus rather  
A counsellor for tyrants, with base breath  
Durst thus presume to counsel Pompey's death.  
justice, and truth have many guilty made:  
Faith suffers, Ptolomey, when it would aid  
Whom fortune hates; join with the gods, and fate,  
And fly the wretched, love the fortunate:  
Profit from honesty differs as far  
As does the sea from fire, earth from a star.  
Crowns lose their power, whilst only good they do:  
Respect of right all strength does overthrow.  
'tis mischiefs freedom, and th'uncurbed sword,  
That does to hated crowns safety afford.  
No cruel actions, unless throughly done,  
Are done secure; let him from court be gone,  
That would be good; virtue, and sovereignty  
Do not agree; nothing but fear shall he,  
That is ashamed a tyrant to be deemed.  
Let Pompey rue that he thy years contemned,  
Thinking thou couldst, not from thy shore drive back  
A conquered man: let not a stranger take,  
Thy sceptre: if thou wouldst resign thy reign,  
The hast nearer pledges, give the crown again  
To thy condemned sister: le's keep free  
Our Egypt from the Roman slavery.  
Shall we, that did not in the war adhere  
To Pompey, now provoke the Conqueror?  
Vagrant through all the world, hopeless of all  
He seeks with what lands ruin he may fall:  
Haunted with civil war slain ghosts he flies  
Not only Caesar, but the Senate's eyes,  
Whose greater part feeds fowls in Thessaly.  
He fears those nations, whom he left to die  
Mixed in one bloody field: he fears those Kings,  
Whose hapless states his fall to ruin brings.  
Now guilty of the loss, harboured by none,  
To us, whom yet he has not overthrown,  
He seeks; a greater cause, o Ptolomey,  
Have we to accuse Pompey; why would he  
Our quiet land stain with the crime of war,  
And make us hated by the Conqueror?  
Why does thy misery choose our land alone  
To bring Pharsalia's fortune, and thine own  
Feared punishment into? we bear a blame  
Already, (and our swords must purge the same,)  
In that, because the Senate moved by thee  
Gave us a crown, we wished thy victory.  
This sword, now drawn by fate, we did provide  
To wound not Pompey's, but the conquered side,  
And rather could we wish for Caesar's head:  
But whither all are carried, we are led.  
Mak'st thou a doubt of our necessity  
To kill thee now we may? what strength have we  
For thee to trust, wretched man? thou sawst our men  
Unarmed, to plow soft mould scarce able, when  
Nile ebbed. Our kingdom's strength 'tis fit that we  
Try, and confess; canst thou, o Ptolomey  
Raise Pompey's ruin, under which great Rome  
Itself is fallen so low? or dar'st thou come  
To stir the ashes of Pharsalia,  
And such a war upon thy kingdom draw?  
We to no side, before the battle, cleft;  
Shall we now cleave to Pompey's, which is left  
By the whole world? provoking the known fates,  
And feared strength of Caesar? wretched state's  
Aid they, that did their prosperous times attend.  
No faith ere choose a miserable friend.  
The mischief pleased them all: the young king proud  
Of this strange honour, that his men allowed  
Him to command so wonderful a thing,  
Chose out Ach●llas for the managing.  
Where the false land in Casian sands does lie  
Stretched out, and fords witness the Syrteses nigh,  
Weapons, and partners of his murderous guile  
He puts in a small boat. Oh gods, durst Nile,  
Durst barbarous Memphis, and th'effeminate men  
Of soft Canopus' harbour such a spleen?  
Has civil war depressed the world so low?  
Or are the Roman fates dejected so?  
Are Pharian swords admitted, and a room  
For Egypt left into this war to come?  
In this at least ye civil wars be true:  
Bring well known hands, keep foreign beasts from you,  
If Pompey's far-famed name deserve to be  
The crime of Caesar. Fears not Ptolomey  
The ruin of that name? or when the sky  
Thunders, dar'st thou, effeminate Ptolomey,  
Insert thy profane hands? to terrify  
Thee, King, a Romans name enough should be,  
Without that worth that did the world control:  
Road thrice in triumph to the capitol:  
That governed Kings: that led the Senate's war:  
And son in law was to the Conqueror.  
Why with thy sword our bowels dost thou wound?  
Thou dost not know, proud boy, upon what ground  
Thy fortunes stand, thou now canst claim no right  
To Egypt's sceptre: for in civil fight  
He's fallen, that Egypt's crown on thee bestowed.  
Now Pompey's ship took down her sails, and: ●ow'd  
Toward the shore. The wicked band drew (b) near  
In a small two-oared boat; with feigned cheer  
Tell him the Kingdom at his service stands;  
And foining that the shore for shelves, and sands  
Could not approached be by ships so great,  
Into their little boat they do entreat  
He would descend. If by the fate's decree,  
And everlasting laws of destiny  
Pompey condemned to that wretched end  
Had not been forced to shore; (c) none of his friends  
Wanted resages of the dire event.  
For had their faith been pure, if they had meant  
Their Sceptre giver truly t'entertain  
In Court, th' Egyptian King with all his train  
And fleet had come. Pompey to fate gives way,  
And, bid to leave his navy, does obey,  
Preferring (d) death before base fear. Into  
The enemy's boats Cornelia fain would go,  
Now more impatient to be separate  
From her dear Lord, because she fears his fate.  
Stay wife, and son, and far from shore (quoth he)  
Behold my fortune: and in this neck try  
The tyrant's faith: but deaf to his commands  
Frantic Cornelia wrings her woeful hands:  
Wither without me goest thou, cruel man?  
Removed from Thessaly, must I again  
Be left? still fatal have our partings been  
In flight thou needed'st not to have touched in  
At Lesbos, but there still have let me be,  
If thou intend I ne'er shall land with thee,  
Only at sea thy sad companion.  
Thus all in vain Cornelia making moan  
Upon the ships foredecke stood looking over,  
So full of grief, and fear, she could not more  
Look after him, nor turn her eyes away.  
Doubtful of his success the fleet did stay,  
Not fearing swords, nor force, nor treachery.  
But lest great Pompey should submissively  
Adore that sceptre that himself bestowed.  
Septimius then a Roman soldier bowed,  
Saluting Pompey from th' Egyptian boat,  
Who (oh Heavens shame) leaving his pile, had got  
A Barbarous partisan, one of the guard  
To Egypt's King: fierce unrelenting hard,  
Bloody as any beast Who would not then  
Have thought that fortune meant to favour men,  
When she had kept this impious sword so far  
From Thessaly, and stayed from civil war  
This hand? but she disposed the swords (alas)  
That civil mischief might in every place  
Be done. A tale the Conquerors to shame  
It was, the gods eternal blush, and blame,  
A Roman sword should by a King be led,  
And the Egyptian boy reach Pompey's head  
With his own sword. What fame shall future time  
Give thee Septimius? or how stile thy crime,  
That Brutus act as patricidal blame?  
And now the ending hour of Pompey came:  
Putting himself into the monsters (e) hands  
He went aboard their boat; the murderous bands  
Strait draw; great Pompey seeing their drawn swords,  
Covers his face, disdaining to spend words,  
Or looks on such a fate, and shut his eyes,  
Containing his great spirit, lest words might rise,  
Or tears, his everlasting fame to taint.  
But when Achillas murdering weapons point.  
Had pierced his side, scorning the villain's pride  
No groans he gave: great, like himself he died  
With unstirred breast, and thus in secret spoke;  
All times, that mention of Rome's labours make,  
And future ages through the world will see  
This fact, and Egypt's base disloyalty.  
Maintain thine honour now, the fates to thee  
Through the whole life gave long prosperity;  
And the world knows not (unless now they see)  
How Pompey's spirit could bea●e adversity.  
Blush not that such base hands thy death afford;  
But think, who ever strike, 'tis Caesar's sword.  
Though they these limbs all torn, and scattered leave,  
Yet am I happy, god; no god can reave  
My happiness; my fortunes, and my breath  
Expire at once: nor wretched is my death.  
Cornelia; and my son this slaughter see:  
So much more patient let my sorrow be.  
The more Cornelia, and my son approve  
My dying constancy, the more they'll love.  
So well could he his dying spirits guide:  
Such strength of mind had Pompey when he died.  
But poor Cornelia, that had rather die  
Then see that sight, with shrieks fills the sky:  
'twas wicked I, dear Lord, that murdered thee:  
For whilst at Lesbos thou turnd'st in to me,  
Caesar had entered Egypt's shore; for who  
But he, had power that horrid act to do?  
What ere thou art, sent from the gods to kill,  
Pleasing thine own revenge, or Caesar's will;  
Thou knowst not, wretch, where Pompey's bowels be▪  
Thou strik'st with fury there, where conquered he  
Desires thy stroke, now let him suffer more  
Than his own death, and see my head before.  
I am not guiltless from the crime of war,  
The only wife following my Lord so far,  
Fearless of camps, or seas; and conquered too  
I took him in, which Monarches durst not do.  
Did I for this, husband, deserve to be  
Left safe aboard? false Lord, why sparest thou me?  
Or thought'st thou life (thou dying) fit for me?  
I'll find a death, though not from Ptolomey.  
Oh sailors, let me leap down from the deck,  
Or with these twisted shrouds to break my neck:  
Or let some worthy friend of Pompey's now  
here sheathe his weapon, and for Pompey do  
An act, that h●e'll impute to Caesar's hate.  
Why do you hinder my desired fate?  
Husband, thou liv'st, Cornelia has not power  
Yet of herself; they hinder my death's hour  
(And there she sounds) to be the Conquerors pray;  
The fearful fleet hoist sails, and post away.  
But when great Pompey fell, that sacred face,  
And honoured visage kept his former grace  
Though angry with the gods▪ deaths utmost hate  
Changed not his visage, and majestic state,  
As they confess, that his rend neck did see.  
For stern Se●timius in that cruelty  
Finds out an act more cruel: to uncover  
His face, he cuts the cloth, that was cast over,  
Invading half-dead Pompey's breathing face,  
His dying neck across the boards he lays;  
Then cu●s the nerves, and I veins, the twisted bones  
He breaks the art to whip off heads at once  
Was not yet found▪ But when the head was torn  
Off ●rom the trunk, 'twas by Achillas borne.  
Degenerate Roman, base Septimius,  
Used in an under office, couldst thou thus  
Basely cut off great Pompey's sacred head  
To be (oh shame) by another carried?  
Young Ptolomey to know great Pompey's face,  
Those hairs, that kings have honoured, whose curled grace  
Adorned his noble front, strokes with his hands;  
Fixed on a pole the head of Pompey stands,  
Whilst yet his lips with throbbing murmurs shook,  
His eyes unclosed, and lively was his look:  
That head that still determined war, and peace,  
That ruled the Senate, laws, and suffrages;  
Rome's fortune in that face took greatest pride.  
Nor was the wicked tyrant satisfied  
With sight: but for memorial of the fact,  
Dire arts the heads corruption must extract,  
The brain is taken out, dried is the skin,  
The noisome moisture purged from within,  
Medicines make solid, and preserve the face.  
Degenerate issue, last of Lagus race,  
Whom thy incestuous sister shall depose;  
When sacred vaults the Macedon enclose,  
When dust of Kings in sumptuous buildings lies,  
And the ignoble race of Ptolomey's  
In Pyramids, and rich Mausolean graves  
Unjustly rest, must Pompey by the waves  
And headless trunk against the shore be swept?  
Was it too great a trouble to have kept  
The carcase whole for Caesar? this sad date  
Did fortune give to Pompey's prosperous state;  
By such a death as this to pull him down  
From such an height: heaping all plagues in one  
Sad day, which he so many years had been  
Free from: nor yet had Pompey ever seen  
joy mixed with woe: no god his prosperous state  
Did ere disturb, none helped his wretched fate;  
But once for all with a differing hand  
Did fortune pay him; torn upon the sand,  
Salt water playing in his wounds, the mock  
Of seas he lies, and beat 'gainst every rock:  
No figure left of him, 'tis note enough  
To know great Pompey, that his head is off.  
But fates, ere Caesar on that shore arrive,  
A sudden funeral to Pompey give,  
Lest he in none, or in a better tomb  
Should lie. To th'shore did fearful Codrus come  
Out of his lurking hole, that was before  
Great Pompey's quaestors, and from Cyprus shore  
Had followed him; he by the shades of night  
Durst go (true love had vanquished terror quite)  
To find his slaughtered Lord, along the sand,  
And through the waves, to bring the trunk to land.  
Faint light through dusky clouds sad Cynthia gave;  
But different coloured from the foamy wave  
The trunk appeared; which Codrus catching strait  
When the waves ebbed, but tired with the weight  
Expects their flow to help him, and so bore  
The trunk to land, and placed it on the shore;  
Then falling down, bathing the wounds in tears,  
Thus to the gods he speaks, and clouded stars.  
Fortune, no costly pile with odours filled  
Thy Pompey craves, nor that his hearse may yield  
Precious Arabian fumes to fill the air,  
Nor that the pious Roman neekes should bear  
Their country's father forth, nor to adorn  
A funeral pomp old triumphs should be borne▪  
No funeral songs, nor that his troops the while  
March a dead march about their general's pile.  
Great Pompey but a base Plebejan Beer,  
That his torn limbs may carry to dry fire.  
Let him not want wood, and a burner, though  
But mean, and let it be, o gods, enough  
That with loose hair Cornelia does not stand  
To take her last embrace, and then command  
To fire the pile, from this last funeral rite  
She is away, yet hardly out of sight,  
This said, far off a little fire he kenned  
Burn a neglected hearse, watched by no friend.  
Thither he goes, and taking thence a part  
Of fire, and halfe-burned sticks, who ere thou art  
Neglected ghost, dear to no friend, (quoth he)  
But happier than great Pompey, pardon me,  
(If any knowledge after death remains)  
That by a stranger's hand thy hearse sustains  
This wrong; I know thou yeild'st, and castendure  
For Pompey's sake, this loss of sepulture,  
And art ashamed of funeral rites, whilst he  
Lies an unburied ghost. Then speedily  
With his arms full of fire poor Codrus ran  
To find the trunk, which to the shore again  
The waves had beat; then off the sand he wipes,  
And gathering up the ribs of broken ships,  
He lays them in a ditch; on no hewn trees  
Or well built pile the noblebody lies:  
Fire brought, not underbuilt great Pompey takes.  
Then sitting by the fire thus Codrus speaks.  
Rome's greatest Lord, the only majesty  
Of Italy, if worse this burial be  
Then none at all, then floating on the sea,  
Avert thy Manes, and great ghost from me.  
'tis fortune's injury that makes this right,  
Lest fish, or foul, or beast, or Caesar's spite  
Might wrong thy coarse, accept this little brand  
Of fire since kindled by a Roman hand.  
If fortune grant recourse to Italy,  
Not here shall these so sacred ashes lie:  
But from my hand Cornelia shall take,  
And urn thy relics, until then we'll make  
Thy burials mark upon the shore, that who  
So ere would pacify thy ghost, and do  
Full right● of funeral, may find out so  
The body's ashes, and the sands may know,  
Whither to bring thy head. Thus having spoke  
He does with fuel the weak flame provoke;  
Pompey dissolved, his fat distilling fed  
The little fire; and now day promised  
By bright Aurora, dimmed the stars weak lights.  
Codrus abruptly leaves the funeral rites,  
And runs, himself about the shore to hide.  
What mischief fearest thou (fool) for such a deed;  
Which long tongued fame for ever shall renown!  
Caesar himself shall praise what thou hast done  
To Pompey's body. Go then void of dread:  
Confess the funeral, and require his head.  
An end of duteous works piety makes.  
The bones half-burnt, and yet dissolved he takes,  
Still full of nerves, and unconsumed marrow;  
Quenching them in sea-water, in a narrow  
Piece of the earth together lays them down:  
Then lest the ashes should abroad be blown  
By the winds force, he lays a stone above;  
And lest some sailer should that stone remove  
To tie his cable, with a cole-burnt staff  
Upon the top he writes this Epitaph.  
here Pompey lies, fortune, this stone we call  
His tomb: in which, rather than none at all,  
Caesar would have him lie. Why in a room  
So small, rash hand, includ'st thou Pompey's tomb,  
And shutt'st up his great ghost? as far he lies  
As the earth's farthest shore extended is.  
Rome's mighty name, and Empires utmost bound  
Is Pompey's tomb; this mark for shame confound  
The shame of heaven; if Alcides lie  
Over all Oete, and all Nysa be  
Great Bacchus' monument, why should one stone  
In Egypt stand for Pompey's tomb alone?  
Did no one piece of earth thy name express,  
All Egypt's land, Pompey, thou mightst possess.  
Let us be still deceived, and still for fear  
Of thee, to tread on Egypt's land forbear,  
But if that sacred name must grace a stone,  
Write his each deed, and glorious action:  
The Alpine war of rebel Lepidus;  
The conquest of revolt Ser●ortus  
(The Consul being called home:) those triumphs note,  
Which he but gentleman of Rome had got:  
Cilician Pirates tamed: traffic made free:  
Barbarian kingdoms conquered all that lie  
Under the East, and North; with this make known  
How still from war he took a peaceful gown  
Contented with three triumphs, he to Rome  
His other conquests did forgive; what tomb  
Can hold all this? his ashes in this grave  
No titles, nor triumphant stories have.  
That name, that temples lofty roofs, and high  
Triumphal arches decked with victory  
Were wont to beat, now near the lowest sand  
A small grave shows, which strangers cannot stand  
Upright to read, which (if it be not shown)  
The Roman travellers pass by unknown,  
Egypt, whom civil fate has guilty made  
'T was not in vain the Sibylls' verse forbade  
A Roman Niles Pelusian mouth to touch,  
Or once his summer-swelled banks approach.  
How shall I curse thee for this impious deed?  
May Nile run back, and stay at his first head,  
May thy unfruitful fields want winter rain,  
And all like Aethiops barren sands remain.  
We let thy Isis in Rome's temples dwell,  
Thy deified dogs, and sorrow causing bell:  
Osiris, whom thou showest, while thou weep'st,  
A man; our god in dust thou Egypt keep'st.  
And thou that gav'st the tyrant temples, Rome,  
Has not yet fetched thy Pompey's ashes home:  
His ghost ly●s yet exiled If Caesar's frowns  
That first age feared, yet now thy Pompey's bones  
Bring home, o Rome, if yet on that cursed land  
Not turned by the waves, the marks do stand.  
Whoo'll fear that grave? whoo'll fear to take from thence  
Ashes deserving temples? that offence  
Enjoin me (Rome) to do, my bosom use:  
Oh too too happy I, if Rome would choose  
My hand to open that base sepulchre,  
And his dear ashes hither to transfer.  
Perchance when Rome from oracles would crave  
An end of dearth, or pestilence to have,  
Of too much fire, or earthquakes, thou to Rome  
Shalt by the gods expressed appointment come,  
Thy ashes borne by the high Priest For who  
To scorched Siene in lunes heat can go,  
In view of Nile, or Pharian ●hebes descry  
Under the showry Plejades still dry;  
What Fasterne Merchant traffiquing resorts  
To the red sea, or rich Arabian ports,  
But at thy graves ever adored stone,  
And ashes (though perchance scattered upon  
The sands) will stay, thy ghost to pacificy,  
Before the Casian love preferring thee?  
This little grave can nothing hurt thy name;  
Thy ghost would be of a fair cheaper fame  
Shrouded in gold, and temples: fortune now  
Bears more divinity entombed so low;  
The sea-beat stone is more majestic far  
Than the proud altars of the Conqueror.  
Some worship gods dwelling in dusky clay,  
That to Tarpejan jove refuse to pray.  
'twill vantage thee hereafter in thy grave  
No polished marbles lasting works to have.  
This little dust will quickly scattered lie:  
The tomb will fall, proofs of thy death will die:  
And then a happier age will come, when none  
Shall credit give to those that show the stone;  
As false shall Egypt seem in times to come  
(As Crete of Jove's) to boast of Pompey's tomb.  
FINIS Libri Octaus.   

Annotations on the eight Book.  
(a) Pompey in his flight from Larissa came all along the Tempe to the shore, and lodged that night in the small cottage of a fisherman; about morning he went to sea in a little boat, and sailing along by the shore met with a ship of greater burden, of which one Peticius a Roman was capt●i●e, who knowing Pompey, received him, and transported him to Lesbos, where Cornelia lay. Plutarch. Ap●ian.  
(b) When their boat drew near to Pompey, Septimus arose, who had once served as a Tribune under Pompey) and in the Roman language saluted his general, and welcomed him in the King's name. Achillas complemented with him in the Greek tongue, and desireth him to enter into his boat, by reason that the shelves, and sands would not afford a passage to his ship.  
(c) Those that attended Pompey, seeing his entertainment not Royal, no● Magnificent, but that a few only in a small boat were sent to meet him, began to suspect the treason and counselled Pompey to out to sea, and forsake that sh●re whilst yet he was free from danger.  
(d) Pompey disdaining to appear fearful, (although he were full of ill presages) came into Achillas his boat, as how is invited, and taking his leave of his wife, and son Sextus Pompejus, he repeated these two jambike verses of Sophocles. 
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉  
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉  These were the last words he spoke to his friends, and so entered into the boat, where Achillas was.  
(e) When Pompey was now far from his ship, and perceived no courteous entertainment in the boat, he looked upon Septimius and thus spoke; Have not I known thee heretofore my fellow soldier? Septimius disdaining to answer him at all only nodded his head to him, and when Pompey was rising out of the boat, Septimius first run him through with his sword.   

LUCAN'S Pharsalia. The Ninth Book.  
The Argument.  
Pompey's departed spirit to heaven ascends.  
His wife, and sons lament; Cato commends  
His worthy life: checks the Cilicians,  
And marching are the scorched Libyan sands  
To Iuba's Kingdom, with strong patience  
Endures the heat, the Southwinds violence  
And kill serpent's venom. Caesar sees  
Renowned Troy's defaced antiquities,  
To Egypt comes, and with dissembling breath  
Complains, and weeps for noble Pompey's death.  
IN Pharian coals his ghost could not remain,  
Nor those few ashes his great spirit contain.  
Out from the grave he issues, and forsakes  
Th'unworthy fire, and half burnt limbs, and takes  
up to the convexe of the sky his flight,  
Where with black air the starry poles do meet.  
The space betwixt the regions of the moon,  
And earth, halfe-deifyed souls possess alone,  
Whom fiery worth, in guiltless lives, has taught  
To brook the lower part of heaven, and brought  
Them to th'eternal spheres, which not they hold,  
That are with incense buried, tombed in gold.  
There filled with true light, with wondering eyes  
The wand'ring planets, and first stars he sees.  
He sees our day involved in midst of night,  
And laughs at his torn trunks ridiculous plight.  
Then o'er the Aemathian fields, his scattered fleet:  
And bloody Caesar's troops he took his flight:  
And with revenge for these dire facts possessed  
Cato●s bold hart, and brutus noble breast.  
Cato, while chance was (a) doubtful, and at stake  
Whom civil war Lord of the world would make,  
Then hated Pompey, though with Pompey he  
(Led by the Senate, and Rome's Auspicy)  
Had fought, but when Pharsaliaes' field was tried,  
He altogether favoured Pompey's side.  
His country wanting a protector than  
He took, and cheered the trembling hearts of men:  
And ●utting swords in fearful hands again  
Made civil war, neither for hope of reign,  
Nor fear of bondage; nought at all in war  
For his own sake did he; his forces are  
Since Pompey's death, alone for liberty;  
Which lest the speed of Caesar's victory  
Should seize upon, being dispersed o'er  
The coast, he sails unto Corcyra's (b) shore,  
And in a thousand ships carries away  
The conquered remnant of Pharsalia.  
Who would have thou●ht so great a fleet had held  
All flying men? that conquered ships had filled  
The straitened seas? from thence they sail away  
To ghost-filled Taenarus, and long Males;  
Thence to Cytherus: Boreas blowing fair  
Crete flies: and getting a good sea they clear  
The Cretan coast Phycus, that durst deny  
Their men to land, they sack deservedly.  
And thence along the deep, while fair winds blow▪  
Unto thy shore, oh Palinurus, go:  
(For not alone doth our Italian sea  
Keep monuments of thee, but Libya  
Can witness well calm harbours once did please  
Thy Phrygian master) when upon the seas  
Descrying sh●p● afar, they 'gan to fear  
Whether the men their foes, or partners were:  
Caesar's known speed gave them just cause to fear,  
And still suspect his coming every where.  
But those sad ships brought grief, and woes, and cries  
Able to draw soft tears from Cato's eyes:  
For after that Cornelia all in vain  
(●est Pompey's trunk beat from the shore again  
Should float at sea by prayers had strived to draw  
From flight the sailors, and her son in law,  
When from the shore that little fire descried  
His most unworthy funeral, she cried,  
Seemed I not worthy then, fortune, to thee  
To light my husband's funeral fire, and lie  
Stretched out on his cold limbs, burn his torn hairs,  
And gathering his sea-scatterd limbs, with tears  
To bathe each wound? with bones, and ashes hot  
To fi●l my lap, and in the temples put  
The sad remainder of his funeral?  
That fir's no honour to his hearse at all.  
Besides perhaps some hands of Egypt now  
This loathed office to his ashes do.  
Well did the Crassi's ashes naked lie,  
For by the gods far greater cruelty  
Is Pompey burnt. Still shall my woes appear  
In the same shape? and shall I ne'er inter  
My slaughtered Lords? and at full unnes lament?  
What needest thou tomb, or any instrument  
Of sorrow, wretch? doth not thy breast contain  
Thy Pompey, and his image still remain  
Within thee? let those wives that mean to live  
After their Lords, urns to their ashes give.  
But yet the fire, that lends you envious light  
From Egypt's shore, brings nothing to my sight  
Of thee, dear Pompey: now the flame is gone,  
The vanished smoke bears to the rising Sun  
Pompey aloft: the winds unwillingly  
Bear us from thence, yet is no land to me  
(Though triumphed by my Lord as Conqueror)  
Nor chariot decked with laurel half so dear.  
My breast has quite forgot his happiness,  
And loves that Pompey, whom Nile's shores possess,  
Feign would ● stay under this guilty clime:  
The land's ennobled by so great a crime.  
I would not leave (believe me) Egypt's shore.  
Sextus, try thou the chance of war, and o'er  
The spacious world thy father's colours bear:  
This his last will was trusted to my care,  
When me of breath deaths fatal hour shall reave,  
To you, my sons, this civil war I leave;  
And let not Caesar's race in quiet seigne,  
Whilst any of our stock on earth remain.  
Solicit kingdoms, and free powerful towns  
By my name's fame: these are the factions,  
These are the arms I leave; what Pompey ere  
Would go to sea, shall find a navy there.  
My heirs may stir war in what land they will.  
Be but courageous, and remember still  
Your father's lawful power. Serve under none  
But Cato (whilst he fights for Rome) alone.  
I have performed thy trust, done thy behest  
Dear Lord, thy cunning did prevail, and lest  
False I those words of trust should ne'er deliver,  
Deceived I lived Now Pompey, wheresoever  
The art gone, through hell, if any hell there be,  
Or empty Chaos, I will follow thee;  
How long my life's decreed I do not know,  
If long, I'll punish it for lasting so:  
For not expiring when it first did see  
Thy wounds, with sorrow broken it shall die.  
It shall dissolve in tears: no halter, sword,  
Or precipice shall death to me afford.  
It were a shame for me, now thou art gone,  
Not to have power to dye with grief alone.  
This said, and covering with a veil her head,  
Under the hatches she resolved to lead  
A life in darkness: nearly hugging woe  
She feeds on tears, and for her husband now  
Embraces grief. The noise of stormy wind,  
Nor cries of fearful sa●lers move her mind:  
Her hope contrary to the sailors is,  
Composed for death, and wishing storms she lies.  
They first arrived on Cyprus foamy shore.  
From thence a mild eastwind commanding boar  
Their ships to Cato's Libyan camp; as still  
A doubtful mind do sad presages fill,  
Cneius from shore spying his father's train,  
And brother, running to the sea amain,  
Where is our father, brother? speak (quoth he)  
lives the world's head, and honour, or are we  
Undone, and Pompey to the shades below  
Has borne Rome's fate? he answers, happy thou▪  
Whom fate into another coast dispersed;  
Thou, brother, this dire mischief only hearest:  
Mine eyes are guilty of a father's death,  
Nor did he lose by Caesar's arms his breath,  
Nor of his fall a worthy author found.  
By the false tyrant of Nile's impious ground,  
Trusting the gods of hospitality,  
And his own bounty to old Ptolomey,  
In recompense of kingdoms given he died  
I saw them wound our noble father's side;  
And thinking Egypt's King durst not have done  
So much, I thought Caesar had stood upon  
The shore of Nile. But not our father's wounds,  
Nor blood so shed so much my heart confounds,  
As that his head, which mounted on a spear  
Aloft we saw, they through their cities bear:  
Which (as they say) is kept for Caesar's eye:  
The tyrant seeks his guilt to testify.  
For whether dogs, or fowls devouring maw  
Consumed his trunk, or that small fire we saw  
Dissolved it by stealth, I do not know.  
What ere injurious fate to that could do,  
I did forgive the gods that crime, and wept  
For that part only, which the tyrant kept.  
When C●●ius heard these words; his inward woe  
In passionate sighs, and tears he could not show;  
But thus inflamed with pious rage 'gan speak,  
Launch forth the fleet, sailors, with speed, and break  
Through the cross winds a passage with the oar,  
Brave Captains follow me, never before  
Knew civil war more worthy ends then these,  
T'interre unburied Manes, and appease  
Pompey with slaughter of th'effeminate boy.  
Why should not I th' Egyptians towers destroy?  
And from the temples Alexander take,  
To drown his hearse in Marcotis lake?  
In Nile Amasis, and those Kings with him  
Digged up from their Pyramids shall swim.  
All tombs shall rue Pompey's no sepulchre:  
Isis (their goddess now) I'll disinter,  
Osiris' linnen-covered shrine disperse,  
And kill god A●is over Pompey's hearse.  
Upon a pile of gods I'll burn his head;  
Thus shall the land by me be punished;  
I will not leave a man to till those fields,  
Nor take the profit, that Nile's flowing yields.  
The gods, and people banished, and gone,  
Thou, father shalt possess Egypt alone.  
This said, to launch the fleet forth he assays,  
But Cato stills the young man's wrath with praise.  
Now o'er the shore when Pompey's death was known  
The sky was pierced with lamentation:  
A grief not seen, not pararelled at all,  
That common people mourn a great man's fall.  
But when Cornelia quite exhausted with tears  
Was seen to land with torn dishevelled hairs,  
Their troubled lamentations sounded more.  
Cornelia landed on a friendly shore,  
Gathering the garments, and triumphal weeds  
Of hapless Pompey, that expressed his deeds,  
And ancient trophies, painted robes, and shield,  
That thrice great jove in triumph had beheld,  
Into the funeral fire she threw them all;  
Such was her lords imagined funeral.  
Example from her piety all take,  
And funeral fires all o'er the shore they make  
T'appease the ghosts slain in Pharsalia.  
So when the shepherds of Apulia  
Make winter fires on their ba●e-eaten ground  
To spring their grass again; a glistering round  
The Praetors arms, and high Garganus yields,  
And hot Matinus bullocke-pasture fields.  
But not more pleasing was't to Pompey's spirit  
That all the people rail at heaven, and twit  
The gods with Pompey, than what Cato spoke,  
Few words, but from a truth-filled breast they broke.  
A Roman's dead, not like our ancestry  
To know the rule of right, but good (quoth he)  
In this truth scorning age; one powerful grown  
Not wronging liberty: the people prone  
To serve, he only private still remained;  
He swayed the Senate, but the Senate reigned.  
Nought claimed he by the sword, but wished what he  
Wished most, the Senate's freedom to deny,  
Great wealth he had, but to the public hoard  
He brought far more than he retained; the sword  
He took, but knew the time to lay it down.  
Armed he loved peace, though arms before the gown  
He still preferred; and ever pleased was he  
Entering, or leaving his authority.  
A chaste unriotted house, and never stained  
With her Lord's fortune, to all lands remained  
His name renowned, which much availed Rome.  
True liberty long since was gone, when home  
Sylla, and Marius came: but Pompey dead,  
Even freedom's shadow is quite vanished.  
No Senate's face, no colour will remain  
Of power; none now will be ashamed to reign.  
Oh happy man, whom death, when conquered caught,  
And Egypt's guilt swords to be wished for brought.  
Perchance thou couldst have lived in C●sars state.  
To know the way to die is man's best fate,  
His next to be compelled; and such to me  
(If captived now) fortune, let juba be;  
Not to be kept to show the enemy  
I do not beg, so headless kept I be.  
More honour from these words the noble ghost  
Received, then if the Roman bars should boast  
Hit praise. Now mutinous the soldiers are,  
Since Pompey's death grown weary of the war;  
In which broils Tarcho Cato's side to quit  
Taken up the colours, who prepared for flight  
With all his ships was chid by Cato so.  
Never reclaimed Cilician, wouldst thou go  
To thy old theft at sea? is Pompey slain,  
And thou returned to Piracy again?  
Then round about he on each man 'gan look  
Mongst whom one boldly thus to Cato spoke  
Not hiding his intent, 'twas not the love  
Of civil war, but Pompey, first did move  
Our arms, (execuse us Cato) we adhaered  
By favour, now he, whom the world preferred  
Before her peace, is dead, our cause is gone;  
Now le's return to our left mansion,  
Our household gods, and children dear to see.  
For what can civil wars conclusion be,  
If not Pharsaliaes' field, nor Pompey's death?  
Our time of life is spent; now let us breathe  
Our last in peace: let our old age provide  
Our funeral piles, which civil war denied  
Two greatest Captains. For no barbarous,  
Or cruel yoke will fortune lav on us.  
No Scythian, nor Armenian tyranny.  
The subjects of Rome's gowned state are we.  
He that was second, Pompey being alive,  
Is first with us: the highest place we give  
His sacred name, He whom wars fortunes make,  
Shall be our lord, no general we'll take.  
Unto the war we followed thee alone;  
We'll follow fate, Pompey, now thou art gone.  
Nor have we cause to hope for good success,  
Since Caesar's fortune now doth all possess.  
Th' Aemathian strength is by his victory  
Dispersed we lose his mercy; only he  
Has power, and will to spare the conquered.  
Our civil war's a crime now Pompey's dead,  
'Twas duty while he lived, If Cato, thou  
Wilt serve thy country still, le's follow now  
Those Eagles, which the Roman Consuls keeps.  
Thus having spoke aboard the ship he leaps  
With all his company Rome's fate had gone,  
The people bend to slavery upon  
The shore exclaim. But from a sacred breast  
Cato to them at last these words expressed.  
Fought you, young men, with Caesar's armies hopes  
(No more true Roman, but Pompey an troops)  
To gain a Lord? since for no Lord you fight,  
But live to do yourselves, not tyrants right,  
Since your spent bloods can no man's rule procure,  
But your own safety, you'll not now endure  
The wars; to live in bondage you desire  
And for your slavish necks a yoke require.  
Your danger's worthy now, the cause is good:  
Pompey perhaps might have abused your blood.  
And will you now, when liberty's so high,  
To aisle of Rome your swords, and throats deny?  
Of three Lords fortune now has left but one.  
Egypt's base King, and Parthian bows have done  
More for the laws than you, (oh shame) go ye  
Base men, and scorn● the gift of Ptolomey;  
Who will believe your hands could guilty be  
Of any blood? he'll rather think that ye  
Were the first men, that from Pharsalia fled.  
Go then securely: you have merited  
Pardon in Caesar judgement, not subdued  
By siege, or open force. Oh servants lewd,  
When your first master's dead, his heir you'll serve.  
Why would you not more than your lives deserve,  
And pardons? ravish with you for a prey  
Metellus daughter, Pompey's wife away,  
And his two sons: the gift of Aegypt's King  
Surpass, or could you to the tyrant bring  
My head no small reward 'twould render ye;  
Then to good purpose have you followed me.  
On then, and in our bloods your merit make;  
'tis slothful treason a bare flight to take.  
This speech of Cato strait recalls from seas  
Their fling ships; as when a swarm of Bees  
Their honey combs, and barren wax forsake;  
Nor hang in clusters now, but singly take  
Their flight i'th' air, and taste not slothful grown)  
The bitter Thyme: at sound of brass alone  
Amazed they leave their flight: again approve  
Their flowery tasks again their honey love.  
Glad is the Shepherd on sweet Hyb●aes bill  
To keep the riches of his cottage still.  
So Cato's speech on their affections wrought,  
And them to patience of a war had brought  
And now their restless minds with toil t'inure,  
And teach them warlike labours to endure,  
With weary marches first their strength he tries  
Along the sands; their second labour is  
To scale Cyrene's lofty walls: on whom  
Cato no vengeance took, when overcome,  
Though they against him shut their gates) to him  
Revenge sufficient did their conquest seem.  
He thence to Libyan (c) jubaes' kingdom goes;  
But there the Syrts did nature interpose  
Which Cato's dauntless virtue hopes to pass.  
These Syrts, when all the world's first structure was,  
Nature as doubtful left 'twixt sea, and land;  
(For neither sink they quite like seas to stand,  
Nor yet like land with shores repel the main,  
But doubtful, and unpassable remain,  
A shelfe-spoiled sea, a water covered land,  
Where sounding waves let in by sands command.  
This part of nature, Nature's self disclaimed  
As a vain work, and to no purpose framed)  
Or once the deepe-drowned Syrts were seas entire;  
But burning Titan thence to feed his fire  
Drew up those waves so near the torrid zone;  
And now the water holds contention  
With Phoebus' drought: which by continuance spent,  
The Syrts will grow a solid continent.  
For now their tops but shallow waters hide,  
The fading sea decays at every side,  
When first the fleet began to launch from shore,  
In his own kingdom did blacke-Auster roar:  
Whose blasts the sea from ship invasion keep,  
And from the Syrts far roll the wavy deep,  
Or flat the sea with thrown in heaps of sand.  
Now the resistless winds the seas command,  
Whose blasts of all spread sails, that fastened were  
To the mainmast quite robbed the mariner,  
In vain the shrouds to wind so violent  
Deny their sails; beyond the ships extent,  
Beyond the prow the swelled linen's blown.  
But where a man more provident was known,  
That did his linen to the saileyard ty.  
He quite despoiled of tackling presently  
Was overcome. That fleet had far more ease.  
Which on the deep was tossed with certain seas.  
But all those ships, which had cut down their masts  
T' avoid the fury of strong Austers blasts,  
(As then the wind against the tide did strive)  
Against the wind the conquering tide did drive.  
Some ships the sea forsakes, whom strait the sands  
Unseen surprise, whose state now doubtful stands:  
Part of the ship upon firm ground doth rest;  
Part swims in water. Now the sea's oppressed  
With flatts. The sands assault the Ocean,  
And though strong Auster drive the waves amain,  
They cannot master these high hills of sand.  
On th' Ocean's back far from all countries stand  
Heaps of dry dust not by the Ocean drowned.  
The wretched sailors, though their ships on ground,  
No shores can see. Part of the fleet this shallow  
Detains; the greater part their rudders follow,  
And safe by flight, by skilful pilots aid  
Are to Tritomaes' standing pool conveyed.  
This pool (they say) that god esteemeth dear,  
Whose shrill shell trumpet seas, and shores do hear.  
This Pallas loves, borne of the brain of jove,  
Who first on Libya trod. (The heart doth prove  
This land next heaven) she standing by the side,  
Her face within the quiet water spied,  
And gave herself from the loved pool a name  
Tritonia. here doth the silent stream  
Of dark oblivious Lethe gently fall,  
That from hells Lethe takes original.  
The waking dragon's charge is near to these  
The once robbed orchard of th' Hesperideses.  
To rob old times of credit, the desire  
Is spite, or truth from Poets to require.  
A golden wood there was, whose yellow trees  
Laden with wealthy fruit, stood bowed: of these  
A dragon guardian was, which never slept,  
And the bright wood a troop of Virgins kept.  
Hither Alcides coming, did surprise  
The wealth, and burden of those laden trees,  
And leaving light their rob boughs, did bring  
Those glittering apples to th' Argolian King.  
Part of the fleet got off from hence again,  
And from the Syrtes driven, did remain  
Under great Pompey's eldest sons command  
On this side Garamant is in rich land.  
But Cato's virtue brooking no delay  
Through unknown regions lead his troops away,  
T' encompass round the Syrts by land, for now  
The stormy seas unnavigable grow  
In winter time: but storms desired are  
To cool the temper of the sweltering air.  
They fear no cold in Libya's scorched clime,  
Nor too much heat, because in winter time.  
Entering these barren sands thus Cato spoke;  
You that have followed me, soldiers, and make  
Freedom your only safety, settle now  
Your minds with constancy to undergo  
Virtues great work. We march over barren fields,  
o'er Sunburnt regions, where no fountain yields  
Water enough, where Titan's heat abounds,  
And kill serpents smear the parched grounds.  
Hard ways, but whom their falling country's cause  
Through p●ths unknown, and midst of Libya draws,  
Who make no vows for their returning home,  
But think of going only, let them come.  
I would deceive no soldier, nor keep close  
My fears to draw them on. Let only those  
My followers be, whom dangers do invite,  
Who think it brave, and Roman, in my sight  
T'endure the worst of ills. He that would have  
A surety for his safety, and ●●ine save  
His loved life, let him be gone from me,  
And find an easier way to slavery  
Upon the sands whilst I first footing set,  
Let me first suffer th'airs annoying heat:  
Let serpents poisoned teeth first seize on me,  
And in my f●te do you your dangers try.  
Let him that sees me d●iming, water crave,  
And plain of heat, wher●● a shelter have,  
Or when I ride before the foot, strait grow  
Weary, if any by endurance know  
Whether I go soldier, or general.  
The ●ands, heat, thirst, and poisonous serpents, all  
Are sweet to virtue: hath things patience loves,  
And sweetest still, when dearest, goodness proves.  
These Libyan dangers only justify  
The flight of men, thus their hot spirits he  
With labours love▪ and virtue strived to fire▪  
Ma●●hing o'er deserts never to retire  
Secure he goes to Libya; gracing there  
With his great name a little sepulchre.  
If th'old accounted we follow, Libya is  
The world's third part: following the winds, & skies  
A part of Europe▪ For not distant more  
Than Scythian Tanais is Nilus' shore  
From Western Gades, where Europe Africa flies,  
And makes the Ocean room: but greater is  
Asia then both. For as they both send forth  
Libya from South, and Europe from the North  
The Western wind: the Eastern wind alone  
From Asia blows. That part that's fertile known  
Of Libya, Westward lies, but moisture lacks:  
The Northwind dry with us, there stormy, takes  
His flight but seldom thither. The rich soil:  
No wealthy growing minerals do spoil:  
The earth corrupts into no brass, nor gold,  
But keeps her natural, and perfect mould.  
The Mauritanian men are rich alone  
In Citron wood, of which no use was known  
To them of old, contented with the shade.  
Our axes first did that strange wood invade;  
From far we fetch our tables, as our meat.  
But in those parts about the Syrts, whose heat  
Is violent, and scorching Sol too ne'er,  
No corn can grow, no vines can prosper there,  
Nor trees deep rooting take; the sandy ground.  
Wants vital temper, and no care is found  
Of jove in that at all▪ the barren land  
Through every season doth unchanged stand  
By nature's negligence Yet this dull earth  
Unto a few small herbs affords a birth,  
Which are the hardy Nasamonians fare.  
near the sea coast they bleakely seated are,  
Whom barbaraus Syrts with the world's loss maintain  
For spoil they still upon the sand remain.  
And though no merchant trade with them, yet gold  
They have, and still by shipwreck traffic hold  
With all the world. This way did virtue bear  
Cato along, the Soldiers could not fear  
A storm by land, or think of blustering wind,  
But there (alas) the Ocean's dangers find.  
For more on land then sea the southwinds roar.  
About the Syrt, and hurt the land much more.  
No rocks, nor mountains stand opposed there  
To break his force, and turn him into air?  
No well-grown oaks, no wood opposed stands;  
The ground lies open all, free are the sands  
To Aeols rage, which violently strong  
Hurries through th'air a sandy cloud along.  
Their greatest part of land the winds do bear  
Into the air, which hangs not fixed there.  
His house, and land the Nasamonian sees  
Fly in the wind, their little cottages  
Blown o'er their heads into the air as high  
As from a fire the smoke, and sparkles fly.  
The mounted dust like smoke obscures the sky.  
And then mo●e strong then usual did the blast  
Assault our men; no soldier could stand fast;  
No, nor the ground, ●n which they stood, could stay.  
'T would shake the earth, and bear that land away  
If Libya hollow were, or harder mould  
The Southern winds in caverns to enfold;  
But ●●nce composed of loose, and fleeting sands  
Resisting not, it bides; the lowest stands  
Because the highest yields, helmets of men,  
Thei● shields, and piles the wind with fury then  
Bereft them of, and through the Welkin tossed.  
That in some foreign far-remooved coast  
Perchance by men was deemed a prodigy,  
And nations feared arms falling from the sky,  
Thinking those weapons rest from men, did f●ll  
down from the gods. So once I think that all  
Our sacred shields to holy Numa were,  
Which now our choice Patrician shoulders bear.  
The Southern wind, or Northern robbed of yore  
Some foreign people, that those bucklers wore.  
The land thus plagued with wind, the soldiers all  
down to the ground, their clothes fast guirded, fall,  
Hold fast the earth, yet sure they scarcely lay  
By weight, nor strength from being blown away,  
Mountains of dust the southwinds furious hand  
Rolls o'er their heads; drowned is heaps of sand  
The soldiers scarce can stir. Some though upright  
With rising earth are o'erwhelmed quite;  
And, though the earth remove, want motion.  
Vast stones of ruined walls from far are blown,  
And (strange to tell) in some far region fall,  
They ruins see, that see no house at all.  
No paths, nor difference now of ways are known:  
Their course is guided by the star alone  
Like navigators; nor all stars to us  
In that Horrizon are conspicuous,  
For to earth's face (there bowed) many be  
Obscured from sight. But when the air was free  
From the winds rage, dissolved again by heat,  
And scorching day their body flowed with sweat,  
Their mouths with thirst were parched a little steam.  
They spied which from a muddy fountain came;  
From whence with much ado a soldier got  
His hellmet full of water, and strait brought  
The same to Cato, their dry throats were all  
With dust besmeared, and the general  
Himself was envied for that little draught.  
Base soldier, answers he, in thy poor thought  
Seemed I alone so worthless? none but I  
Tender, and weak in all this company:  
This punishment thou more deserv'st then I  
To drink thyself while all the army's dry.  
Then stirred with wrath he struck the helmet down,  
The water spilt sufficed them every one.  
And now to Libya's only temple placed  
In Garaman●is rude they came at last.  
jupiter Ammon is adored there,  
Not armed with thunder like our jupiter,  
But crooked horns. To whom the Libyans build  
No sumptuous Fane, no orient jewels filled  
The house with lustre. Though the Indians,  
The Aethiops, and rich Arabians  
jupiter Ammon's name do all adore,  
And no god else, yet still that god is poor.  
No wealth corrupts his Fane, a god of th'old  
Pureness, his temple guards from Roman gold.  
That place of all the country only green  
Shows a gods presence. All that lies between  
Leptis, and Berenicis is dry sand,  
And barren dust; no part of all the land,  
But Ammon's seat bears trees. The cause of it  
A neighbouring fountain is, whose waters knit  
The moistened earth, and make fertility.  
But when the Sun at noon is mounted high,  
Those trees no shadow can diffuse at all:  
Their boughs scarce hide their trunks. No shade or small  
The Sunbeams make, since perpendicular.  
It is perceived this is the region where  
The summer Tropic hits the Zodiac.  
The signs obliquely rise not, but direct.  
Nor more direct the Bull then Scorpio,  
Moist Capricornus then hot Cancer go:  
Nor Gemeni then Sagitarius,  
Nor Leo then opposed Aquarius:  
Virgo then Pisces, Libraes motion  
Then Aries. But whom the torrid zone  
Divides from us, those people ever see  
The shadows Southward, which here Northward be,  
You slowly seeing Cynosure, suppose  
Her vndrenched car into the Ocean goes.  
And that no Northern sign from seas is free.  
You stand far distant from each axletree;  
Your signs in midst of heaven converted be.  
The Eastern people standing at the door,  
The oracles of horned jove t'implore,  
Gave place to Cato; whom his soldiers ply  
That of that Libyan far-famed deity,  
His future fates event he would be taught.  
Him Labienus most of all besought;  
Chance, and the fortune of our way (quoth he)  
L●nd us the mouth of that great deity,  
And his sure counsels: we may now implore  
His powerful guidance through this war, and o'er  
The dangerous Syrteses. For to whom should I  
Believe the gods would truly or certify  
Their secret wills, than Cato's holy breast,  
Whose life to heavenly laws was still addressed,  
And followed god? behold we now have here  
A freedom given to talk with jupiter,  
Cato, inquires of wicked Caesar's fate,  
And know what shall be Rome's ensuing state,  
Whether this civil war be made in vain,  
Or shall our laws, and liberties maintain,  
Let Ammon's sacred voice thy breast inspire.  
Thou lover of strict virtue, now desire  
To know what virtue is; seek from above  
Approovement of the truth: He full of jove,  
Whom in his secret breast he carried ever,  
These temple worthy speeches did deliver;  
What, Labienus, should I seek to know?  
If I had rather dye in arms, then bow  
Unto a Lord? if life be nought at all?  
No difference betwixt long life, and small?  
If any force can hurt men virtuous?  
If fortune loose, when virtue doth oppose,  
Her threats if good desires be happiness,  
And virtue grow not greater by success?  
Thus much we know, nor deeper can the skill  
Of Ammon teach. The gods are with us still;  
And, though their oracles should silent be,  
Nought can we do without the gods decree;  
Nor needs he voices; what was fit to know  
The great Creator at our births did show.  
Nor did he choose these barren sands to show  
(Hiding it here) his truth but to a few.  
Is there a seat of god, save earth, and sea,  
Air, heaven, and virtue? why for god should we  
Seek further? what ere moves, what ere is seen  
Is jove For oracles let doubtful men  
Fearful of future chances troubled be:  
Sure death, not oracles ascertain me.  
The coward, and the valiant man must fall.  
This is enough for jove to speak to all,  
Then marching thence the temples faith he saves,  
And to the people untried Ammon leaves.  
Himself afoot before his wearied bands  
Marches with pi●e in hand, and not commands,  
But shows them how to labour: never sits  
In coach, or chariot: sleeps the least a nights:  
Last tastes the water. When a fountains found,  
He stays a foot till all the soldiers round,  
And every cullion drink. If fame be due  
To truest goodness, if you simply view  
Virtue without success, what ere we call  
In greatest Romans great; was fortune all.  
Who could deserve in prosperous war such fame?  
Or by the nations blood so great a name?  
Rather had I this virtuous triumph win  
In Libya's desert sands, than thrice be seen  
In Pompey's laurelled chariot, or to lead  
jugurtha captive. Here behold indeed  
Rome, thy true father, by whose sacred name  
(Worthy thy Temples) it shall never shame  
People to swear; whom, if thou ere art free,  
Thou wilt hereafter make a deity.  
Now to a torrid clime they came, more hot  
Than which the gods for men created not.  
Few waters here are seen; but in the sands  
One largely-flowing fountain only stands,  
But full of Serpents, as it could contain.  
There on the banks hot kill Asps remain,  
And Dipsases' in midst of water dry.  
When Cato saw his men for thirst would die  
Fearing those waters; thus he spoke to them.  
Fear not to drink, soldiers, this wholesome stream,  
Be not affrighted with vain shows of death.  
The snakes bite deadly, fatal are their teeth,  
When their dire venom mixes with our blood,  
The water's safe. Then of the doubtful flood  
He drinks himself, there only the first draught  
Of all the Libyan waters Cato sought.  
Why Libya's air should be infected so  
With mortal plagues, what hurtful secrets grow  
Mixed with the noxious soil by nature's hand,  
Our care, nor labour cannot understand:  
But that the world, in the true cause deceived,  
In stead of that a common tale received,  
In Libya's farthest part, whose scorched ground  
The Ocean warmed by setting Sol doth bound,  
Medusa's country lay, whose barren fields  
No trees do cloth, whose soil no herbage yields:  
Changed by her look all stones, and rocks they grow.  
here hurtful nature first those plagues did show;  
First from Medusa's jaws those serpents grown  
Hissed with forked tongues, and hanging down  
Like woman's hair, upon her back, gave strokes  
Unto her pleased neck. In stead of locks  
Upon her horrid front did serpents hiss;  
Her comb combed poison down, no part but this  
Safe to be seen about Medusa was.  
For who ere feared the monster's mouth, and face?  
Whom, that had viewed her with an eye direct?  
Did she ere suffer sense of death t'affect?  
She hastened doubting fate, preventing dread;  
Their bodies died before their souls were fled?  
Enclosed souls with bodies turned to stone.  
The furies hairs could madness work alone;  
Cerberus hissing Orpheus music stilled;  
Alcides saw that Hydra, which he killed;  
But this strange monster even her father, who  
Is the seas second god, her mother too  
Cetos, and Gorgon sisters feared, she  
Could strike a numbness through the sea, and sky.  
And harden all the world into a stone.  
Birds in their flight have fallen conjealed down.  
Running wild beasts to rocks converted were;  
And all the neighbouring Aethiopians there  
To marble statues, not a creature brooks  
The sight of her; t'avoid the Gorgon's looks  
Her snakes themselves backward themselves invert.  
She near Alcides' pillars could convert  
Titanian Alt●s to an hill, and those  
Giants with serpent's feet, that durst oppose  
The gods themselves, those wars in Phlegra field  
Her face could end, but showed in Pallas shield.  
Thither the son of shower raped Da●ae  
Borne on th' Arcadian wings of Mercury  
Inventor of the harp, and wrestling game,  
Flying through th' air, with borrowed Harp came,  
Harp, whom monsters blood before did stain,  
When he, that kept joves' loved cow, was slain.  
Aide to her winged brother Pallas gave,  
Conditioning the Gorgon's head to have.  
She bids him fly to Libya's Eastern bound  
His face averted, or the Gorgon's ground.  
In his left hand a shield of shining brass,  
Wherein to see the stone transforming face  
Of stern Medusa, Pallas bade him keep;  
Then laid Medusa in an endless sleep,  
But yet not all; part of her snaky hair  
Defends her head: some snakes still waking are:  
Some o'er her face, and sleeping eyelids glide.  
Minerva doth th'averted Perseus' guide,  
And with a trembling hand directs the stroke  
Of his Cyllenian Harp, which quite broke  
Her large snake-covered neck. How strange a look  
Had Gorgon's head cut off by Perseus' stroke,  
And towering blade? what poison did arise  
In her black mouth? what death shot from her eyes?  
Which not Minerva durst to look upon;  
And Perseus, sure, had been congealed to stone,  
Had not Minerva hid that dismal face  
With those snake-haires. Now Perseus flies a pace  
To heaven with Gorgon's head; but in his mind  
Considering how the nearest way to find,  
Over the midst of Europe means to fly;  
But Pallas strait forbids that injury  
To Europe's fruitful fields, and bids him spare  
The people there, for who can in the air  
Refrain to gaz, when such a bird he spies.  
Perseus converts his course, and Westward flies  
o'er desert Libya, whose unfruitful seat  
Untilled lies open to nought but Phoebus' heat;  
Who runs his burning course strait o'er their heads.  
No land then this a larger shadow spreads  
'Gainst heaven, nor more the moons eclipse doth cause  
When straying not in latitude, she draws  
Neither to North nor South, but still is found  
In signs direct· Yet this unfruitful ground  
Barren in all that's good, a seed could yield  
From venom, which Medusa's head distilled.  
From those dire drops mixed with the putrid earth  
Sols aiding heat did give new monsters birth.  
First from that dust so mixed with poison bred  
Rose the sleep-causing Asp with swelling head,  
Made of the thickest drop of Gorgon's gore,  
Which in no serpent is compacted more.  
She wanting heat seeks not a colder clime,  
Content to live in her own Libya's slime.  
But oh how shameless is our thirst of gain?  
Those Libyan deaths are carried o'er the main,  
And Asps at Rome are sold as merchandise.  
In scaly folds the great Haemorrhus lies,  
Whose bite from all parts draws the flowing blood.  
Chersidros then, that both in land, and flood  
Of doubtful Syrteses lives; Chelydri too,  
That make a reeking slime where ere they go.  
The Cenchris creeping in a tract direct,  
Whose speckled belly with more spots is decked,  
Then ere the various Theban marble takes.  
Sand-coloured Ammodytes, the horned snakes,  
That creep in winding tracks; the Scytale;  
No snake in winter casts her skin but she;  
The double-head; Dipsas, that thirsty makes;  
The water-spoyling Newte, the dart-like snakes.  
The Pareas, whose way his tale doth guide;  
The Prester too, whose sting distendeth wide  
The wounded's foamy mouth; the Seps, whose bite  
Consumes the bones, dissolves the body quite.  
The Basilisk, whose hiss all snakes doth scar,  
(Hurtful before the venom touch) who far  
All vulgar serpents from his sight commands,  
Reigning alone upon the emptied sands.  
You dragons too, glistering in golden pride,  
Who hurtless wander through all lands beside,  
Hot Africa mortal makes; aloft you fly  
Through the air on wings, and follow speedily  
The herds; your strokes the mightiest bulls destroy,  
Great Elephants not escape you: all you kill,  
Nor need you poisons help to work your will.  
This thirsty way among these venomed snakes  
Cato amidst his hardy soldiers takes:  
Where many losses of his men he found,  
And deaths unusual from a little wound.  
A trodden Dipsas turning back his head  
Did bite young Aulus Ensign bearer, bred  
Of Tyrrhene race: no grief, nor pain ensewed:  
His wound no pity found, no danger showed,  
But in (alas) did fiery venom deep  
Into his ma●row, and scorched entrailes creep.  
Which quite drunk up all moisture, that should flow  
Into his vital parts: his palate now  
And tongue is scorched, and dry; no sweat could go  
To his tired joints, from's eyes no tears could flow.  
His place, nor his sad general's command  
Could stay this thirsty man; out of his hand  
He throws his Eagle; water runs to have,  
Which the dry venom in his heart did crave.  
Though he in midst of Tanais did lie,  
Padus, or Rodanus, he would be dry,  
Or drink the streamer, where ever Nilus flows.  
The soil adds to his drought, the worm doth lose  
Her venom's fame, helped by so hot a land.  
He digs, and seeks each vein in all the sand.  
Now to the Syrts he goes, and in his mouth  
Salt water takes, which could not quench his drought,  
Although it pleased. He did not know what kind  
Of death he died, nor his disease could find,  
But thinks it thirst; and now full fain he would  
Rip open all his veins, and drink his blood.  
Cato commands them (loath his men should stay  
To know what thirst was) strait to march away.  
But a more woeful death before his eye  
Appeared; A Seps no poor Sabellus thigh  
Hung by the teeth, which he strait with his hands  
Cast off, and with his pile nailed to the sands;  
A little snake, but none more full than she  
Of horrid death, the flesh falls off, that nigh  
The wound did grow, the bones are bared round,  
Without the body naked shows the wound.  
His shanks fall off, matter each members fills,  
His knees are barred, his groin black filth distils,  
And every muscle of his thighs dissolves:  
The skin, that all his natural parts involues,  
Breaking lets fall his bowels, nor doth all,  
That should remain of a dead body, fall.  
The cruel venom, eating all the parts,  
Al● to a little poisonous filth converts.  
The poison breaks his nerves, his ribs doth part,  
Opens his hollow breast, there shows his heart,  
His vitals all, yea all that man composes,  
And his whole nature this foul death discloses;  
His head, neck, shoulders, and strong arms do flow  
In venomous filth, not sooner melts the snow  
By hot South winds, nor wax against the Sun.  
This is but small I speak; burnt bodies run  
Melted by fire in filth, but what fire ere  
Dissolved the bones? no bones of his appear.  
Following their putrid juice, they leave no sign  
Of this swift death, the palm is only thine  
Of all the Libyan snakes; the soul take they,  
But thou alone the carcase tak'st away.  
But lo a death quite contrary to it;  
Marsian Nasidius an hot Prester bit.  
Whose face, and cheeks a sudden fire did roast;  
His flesh, and skin was stretched, his shape was lost.  
His swelling body is distended far  
Past humane growth, and undistinguishd are  
His limbs; all parts the poison doth confound,  
And he lies hid, in his own body drowned:  
Nor can his armour keep his swollen growth in.  
Not more doth boiling water rise within  
A brazen caldron, nor are sails more swelled  
By Western winds. No limb he now can wield.  
A globe deformed he is, an heap confused.  
Which ravening beasts did fear, which birds refused:  
To which his friends durst do no obsequy,  
Nor touch, but from the growing carcase fly.  
But yet these snakes present more horrid sights,  
A fierce Hamorrhus noble Tullus bites,  
A brave young man, that studied Cato's worth.  
And as in pouncing of a picture, forth  
Through every hole the pressed saffron goes,  
So from his every part red poison flows  
For blood; his tears were blood: from every poor,  
Where nature vented moisture heretofore,  
His mouth, his nose, flows blood: his sweat is red:  
His running veins all parts be bloodyed.  
And his whole bodies but one wound become.  
An Asps sharp bite did Laews heart benumb;  
No pain he felt, surprised with sudden sleep  
He died, descending to the Stygian deep.  
Not half so sudden do those poisons kill,  
Which dire Sabaean sorcerers distil  
From off the falsely seeming Sabine tree.  
On an old stump a dart-like snake did lie,  
Which, as from thence herself she nimbly threw,  
Through Paulus head, and wounded temples flew.  
'twas not the poison wrought his fate, the blow  
Itself brought death. To her compared slow  
Fly stones from slings, and not so swift as she  
From Parthian bows do winged arrows flee.  
What helped it wretched Murrus that he did  
Kill a fierce Basilisk? the poison slid  
Along his spear, and fastened on his hand,  
Which he cut off, and then did safely stand  
With that hands loss, viewing securely there  
The sad example of his death so near.  
Who would have thought the knotty Scorpion had  
Such power in killing, or a sting so bad?  
Her strait stroke won, when she Orion ●●ew,  
A trophy, which the constellations show.  
Who, small Solpu●a, from thy hole would flee?  
Yet the three sisters give their power to t●ee.  
So that no rest they found by night, nor day;  
They feared the ground itself, on which they lay.  
For neither heaps of leaves, nor ●eedes they found  
To make them beds but on the naked ground  
Exposed their bodies, whose warm vapours steam  
By night attracted the cold snakes to them  
Whose harmless jaws, whilst nights astringents cold  
The poison freezed, unhurt their bosoms hold.  
Nor by the guidance of the stars their way  
Can they discern, but oft complaining say  
Restore, oh gods, to us those wars again,  
From which we fled: restore Pharsalia's plain.  
Why should we die, whose lives devoted were,  
And sworn to war, the death of cowards here?  
The Dipsases' on Caesar's party are,  
And horned snakes help end our civil war.  
Oh let us go, where the hot zone doth lie.  
'Twould ease our grieved hearts, that to the sky  
We might ascribe our deaths. In nought do we  
Accuse thee, Africa, or nature thee.  
For thou this monster bearing country ta'en  
From men's plantation, didst for snakes ordain.  
This land all barren, where no corn could thrive,  
Thou mad'st, that men might from these serpents live.  
But we are come into their dwellings here.  
Take punishment on us, thou god, who ere  
Hating our journey, didst the world divide,  
Placing the doubtful Syrteses on one side,  
The torrid zone on tother, death's sad seat  
Placed in the midst. To thy most hid retreat  
Our civil war dares go; to the world's end  
Our ways, through nature's secrets prying, tend.  
Worse things, perchance, must be endured then this.  
The pole declines, the setting Sun doth hiss  
Drenched in the sea. No land doth further lie  
This way; then jubaes' woeful monarchy  
Known but by fame, we shall perchance again  
Wish for this serpent's land; th' air doth contain  
Some comfort yet: some things are living here.  
Alas, we wish not for our country dear,  
Europe, nor Asia▪ different Suns which see:  
Under what pole, oh afric, left we thee?  
'Twas winter at Cyrene when we lay:  
Is the year's course changed in so small a way?  
The South is at our backs▪ to th' adverse pole  
Our journey tends; about the world we roll.  
We are, perchance, Antipodes to Rome.  
Let this our comfort be, Let Caesar come,  
Oh let our foes pursue where we have fled.  
Thus they in sad complaints unburdened  
Their loaded patience. Cato's virtue keeps  
Them proof 'gainst any labour, who still sleeps  
Upon the naked sands, and every hour,  
Present at every fate, tempts fortune's power.  
Comes at all calls; his presence doth bestow  
far more than health, a strength to undergo  
Even death itself. Whilst Cato's standing by  
They are ashamed impatiently to die.  
What power o'er him had any misery?  
Whose presence grief in others breasts subdued,  
And what small power can be in sorrow showed.  
Some case at last did tired fortune give  
To their long sufferings, there a nation live  
Marinarian (d) Psylls, from serpents biting free.  
They armed with powerful incantations be.  
Their blood's secure, and, though they did not charm,  
By touch of poison cannot suffer harm.  
The places nature this did justly give,  
Th●t serpent-free they might with serpents live.  
'twas well, that in this poisonous air they breathe;  
For peace is made betwixt themselves, and death.  
Of their own broods such certain proofs have all,  
That when to ground a newborn child doth fall,  
Fearing strange Venus hath their beds defiled,  
By deadly Asps they try the doubted child.  
As th' E●gle when her Eaglets are disclosed,  
Lays them against the rising Sun exposed;  
Those that with steady eye can view his beemes,  
And boldly gaze, those only she esteems,  
The ●ther scorns▪ the Psylls so count it there  
Their nations pledge, if infants do not fear  
The serpent's touch, or freely play with snakes.  
They not content with their own safety, take  
For strangers care; and following th' army then  
Against those serpents aided Cato's men  
For when the camp was pitched, those sands, that lay  
Within the compass of the trenches, they  
Did purge with snake-expelling charms throughout,  
And med●inable fires made round about.  
Their Wall wort cracks and fennel gum doth fry,  
Thin Tama●iske, Thessalian Centory,  
Strong Panace, Arabian Pepperwort,  
Sicilian Thapsos burned with Sulphurwort,  
Lar●he trees, and Southernewood, which serpents dread  
And horns of stags far off from Africa bred.  
So night was safe. If slung by day they were,  
That magic nations miracles appear;  
For 'gainst the Psyl's the taken venom strives;  
Marks to the wounded place their spittle gives;  
Whose force the poison in the wound doth stay.  
Then with a foaming tongue dire charms they say  
In ceaseless murmurs. For no time to breathe  
The danger gives. Approaching speedy death  
Admits no silence. Oft hath poison ta'en  
In th'inmost parts been charmed away again.  
But, when called out by their commanding tongue,  
If any poison dare to tarry long,  
Then falling down they lick the pallid wound,  
And with a gentle bite squeezing it round  
Suck with their mouths the poison out, and it  
Extracted from the keycold body spit.  
And in their mouths tasting the poison well  
What serpent deepest bit the Psylls can tell.  
Now o'er the fields encouraged by their aid  
The Roman soldiers wandered less afraid.  
Thus Cato treading sands of Libya  
The Moon twice waning, and twice waxing saw.  
Now more and more the sands to harden 'gan,  
And Africa's thickened ground grew g●e●e again.  
Trees here, and there began t'extend their shade:  
And cottages of reeds and sedges made▪  
How great an hope of better ground had they,  
When first they saw fierce Lions cross their way?  
Leptis was nearest which quiet harbour lent.  
Their winter free from heat, and storms they spent.  
Now Caesar with Pharsaliaes' slaughter cloyed  
Leaving all other cares, his thoughts employed  
In the poursuite of Pompey, and was brought  
(When he his steps by land had vainly sought)  
By fame's report to sea, and passed o'er  
The Thracian straits, and that love-famed shore,  
Where once fair Heroes woeful turret stood;  
Where Helles tragedy new-named the flood,  
No arm of sea bounds with a stream so small  
Asia from Europe, though Propontis fall  
Narrow into the ●uxine sea, and from  
Purple Chalcedon part Byzanti●m.  
Thence goes to see renowned Sigaean sands,  
The stream of Simois, and Rhaetaean lands  
Fa●●'d for the Grae●ian worthye● tomb, wherely  
Great ghosts so much in debt to Poetry.  
Sacked Troyes yet honoured name he goes about,  
To find th' old wall of great Apollo out.  
Now fruitless trees, old oaks with putrified,  
And rotten roots the Trojan house's hide,  
And temples of their gods, all Troy's o'erspread  
With bushes thi●ke, h●r ruins ruined.  
He se●s the bridal grove, An●hises lodged,  
Hesione's rock, the cave where Paris judged,  
Where nymph Oenone played, ●he place so famed  
For Ganymedes rape, each stone is named,  
A little gliding stream, which Xanthus was,  
Unknown he passed, and in the lofty grass  
Securely trodden; a Phrygian strait forbid  
Him ●r●ade on Hector's dust: with ruins hid  
The stone retained no sacred memory.  
Respect you not great Hector's tomb, quoth he!  
Oh great, and sacred work of Poesy,  
That freest from fate, and giv'st eternity  
To mortal wights; but, Caesar envy not  
Their living names, if Roman muses ought  
May promise th●e, while Homer's honoured,  
By future t●mes shall thou, and I be read;  
No age shall us with dark oblivion stain,  
But our Pharsalia ever shall remain.  
Then Caesar pleased with sight of these so praised  
Antiquities a green turfe-alter raised,  
And by the frankincense-fed fire prepared  
These orisons not vain; you gods, that guard  
These Hero's dust, and in Troy's ruins reign:  
Aeneas household gods, that still maintain  
In Alba, and Lavinia your shrines,  
Upon whose altars fire yet Trojan shyves;  
Thou sacred temple closed Palladium,  
That in the sight of man didst never come;  
The greatest heir of all julus' race  
Here in your former seat implores your grace,  
And pious incense on your altars lays;  
Prosper my course, and thankful Rome shall raise  
Troy's walls again, your people I'll restore,  
And build a Roman Troy. This said, to shore  
He hasts, takes shipping, and to Corus lends  
His full-spread sails with haste to make amends  
For these delays, and with a prosperous wind  
Leaves wealthy Asia, and fair Rhodes behind.  
The Westwinde blowing still, the seaventh night  
Discovers Egypt's shore by Pharian light.  
But ere they reach the harbour, day appears,  
And dims the nightly fires, when Caesar hears  
Strange tumults on the shore, noises of men,  
And doubtful murmurings, and fearing then  
To trust himself at land, stays in his fleet;  
Whom strait Achillas launches forth to meet  
Bringing his King's dire gift great Pompey's head  
With an Egyptian mantle covered;  
And thus his crime with impious words to grace.  
Lord of the world, greatest of Roman race,  
And now secure (which yet thou dost not know)  
In Pompey's death, my King doth here bestow  
What only wanted in Pharsalia's field,  
And what thy wars, and travels end will yield:  
We in thy absence finished civil war.  
For Pompey here desiring to repair  
Thessalia's ruins, by our sword lies slain.  
By this great pledge, Caesar, we seek to gain  
Thy love, and in his blood our league to make.  
here without bloodshed Egypt's kingdom take,  
Take all Nile's fertile regions, and receive  
What ever thou for Pompey's head wouldst give:  
Think him a friend worthy thine arms to have,  
To whom the fates such power o'er Pompey gave.  
Nor think his merit cheap, since brought to pass  
With easy slaughter, his old friend he was,  
And to his banished father did restore  
The crown of Egypt. But why speak I more?  
Find thou a name for this great work of his,  
Or ask the world; if villainy it is,  
The more thou ow'st to him, that from thee took  
This act of villainy. Thus having spoke  
Strait he uncovers, and presents the head,  
Whose scarse-knowne looks pale death had altered.  
Caesar at first his gift would not refuse,  
Nor turn his eyes away, but fixtly veiwes  
Till he perceived 'twas true, and plainly saw  
'Twas safe to be a pious father in law;  
Then shed forced tears, and from a joyful breast  
Drew sighs, and groans, as thinking tears would best  
Conceal his inward joy: so quite o'erthrows  
The tyrant's merit, and doth rather choose  
To weep, then owe to him for Pompey's head.  
He that on slaughtered Senators could tread,  
And see the bloodstained fields of Thessaly  
Dry-eyed, to thee alone durst not deny  
The tribute of his eyes. Strange turn of fate,  
Weepest thou for him, whom thou with impious hate  
Caesar, so long pursuedst? could not the love  
Of Daughter, Nephew, not alliance move?  
Think'st thou among those people, that bewail  
Great Pompey's death, these tears can ought avail  
Perchance thou envy'st Ptolemy's dire fact;  
And grievest that any had the power to act  
This but thyself, that the revenge of war  
Was lost, and taken from the conqueror.  
What cause so ever did thy sorrow move,  
It was far distant from a pious love.  
Was this the cause that thy pursuit did draw  
o'er land, and sea, to save thy son in law?  
'Twas well, sad fortune took the doom from thee,  
And spared so far a Roman modesty,  
As not to suffer thee, false man, to give  
Pardon to him, or pity him alive,  
Yet to deceive the world, and gain belief  
Thou add'st a language to thy feigned grief.  
Thy bloody present from our presence bear,  
For worse from Caesar, then slain Pompey here  
Your wickedness deserves; the only meed  
Of civil war, to spare the conquered  
We lose by this, and did not Ptolomey  
His sister hate, I could with ease repay  
This gift of his, and for so black a deed  
Return his sister Cleopatra's head.  
Why waged he secret war, or why durst he  
Thus thrust his sword into our work? did we  
By our Pharsalian victory afford  
Your King this power, or licence Egypt's sword?  
I brooked not Pompey to bear share with me  
In rule of Rome, and shall I Ptolomey?  
All nations joined in our war in vain,  
If any other power on earth remain  
But Caesar now; if any land serve two.  
We were determined from your shore to go,  
But fame forbid us, lest we should seem more  
To fear then hate dire Egypt's bloody shore.  
And do not think you have deceived me:  
To us was meant such hospitality.  
And 'twas our fortune in Thessalia's war,  
That frees this head With greater danger far  
Then could be feared, we fought. I feared the doom  
Of banishment, the threats of wrathful Rome,  
And Pompey's force: but had I fled, I see  
My punishment had come from Ptolomey.  
We spare his age, and pardon his foul fact;  
For let your King for such a deed expect  
No more than pardon. But do you enterre  
This Worthy's head: not that the earth may bear,  
And hide your guilt; bring fumes, and odours store  
T'appease his head, and gather from the shore  
His scattered limbs, compose them in one tomb.  
Let his dear ghost perceive that Caesar's come,  
And hear my pious grief. Whilst he prefers  
All desperate hazards before me, and dares  
Rather to trust his life with Ptolomey,  
The people all have lost a joyful day,  
The world our peace: the gods my prayers denied  
That laying these victorious arms aside  
I might embrace thee, Pompey and request  
Our former life, and love, and think me blessed  
After this war thy equal still to be.  
Then had my faithful love persuaded thee  
Though conquered to excuse the gods, and make  
Thee Rome, to pardon me. Though thus he spoke,  
He found no partners in his grief; the rest  
Beleft not his, and their own tears suppressed,  
And durst (oh happy freedom) with dry eye  
Though Caesar wept, behold this tragedy.  
FINIS.   

Annotations on the ninth Book.  
(a) Whilst the event of the civil war was yet doubtful, and both the Generals were possessed of their full strengths, Cato was fearful of both their intents, and hated them both; as fearing that the conqueror would captive his country; but after the battle of Pharsalia was fought and Caesar had conquered, he was then wholly of Pompey's side, desiring to uphold the party vanquished  
(b) Pompey the great pursuing Caesar into Thessalia, had left Cato with a great strength to guard Dyrachium who hearing the overthrow, and flight of Pompey, marched away to take shipping at Corcyra, and follow Pompey to join his strength with him.  
(c) Cato at Cyrene hearing that Lucius Scipio the father in-law of Pompey the great was joined in Africa with juba King of Mauritania, and that Atius Varus, whom Pompey had deputed his Lieutenant in Africa, was there also, marched overland thither, which march being thirty days upon those desert sands, any with admirable patience, and magnanimity enduring the journey; forsaking his horse always, and marching a foot in the head of his army, to teach his soldiers, rather than command them to endure hardness; he arrived at last at Iuba's court; where, though the soldiers with one voice elected him General, he refused the charge▪ and chose rather to serve under Scipio, then command himself in chief.  
(d) These Psylli are a people inhabiting those parts of Africa fortified by nature with an incredible privilege against the strength of poison, and sustain no harm by the biting of serpents. The serpents (saith Pliny) are afraid of them, and when others are bitten, these Psylli by sucking the wounds, and muttering some charms d'ye easily cure them. They have a custom (as writers report) when their children are borne, if the father suspect his wife's chastity, he exposes the infant to all kind of serpents; if begotten by a stranger, the child dyeth, but if lawfully begotten, the privilege of his father's blood protecteth him against the venom.   

LUCAN'S Pharsalia. The Tenth Book.  
The Argument.  
Caesar in Egypt fearless walks, and sees  
Their temples, tombs, and famed antiquityes.  
Before his feet fair Cleopatra kneels,  
Whom to her brother king he reconciles.  
With sumptuous feasts this peace they celelrate,  
To Caesar's ear Achoreus doth relate  
Nile's ebbs, and flows, and long concealed spring.  
Within the palace Caesar, and the King  
By stern Achillas are besieged by night.  
Caesar to Pharos takes a secret flight;  
There from his ship he leaps into the waves,  
And his endangered life by swimming saves.  
WHen Caesar first, possessed of Pompey's head,  
Arrived there, and those dire sands did tread:  
His fortune strove with guilty Egypt's fate,  
Whether that Rome that land should captivate;  
Or Egypt's sword take from the world the head  
Both of the Conqueror, and the conquered.  
Pompey, the ghost prevails, thy Manes free  
Caesar from death, left Nile should after thee  
Be by the Romans loved. He goes from thence  
To Alexandria armed with confidence  
In this dire mischiefs pledge, following along  
His fasces. But, perceiving that the throng  
Of people murmured that in Egypt he  
Bore th' Ensigns up of Rome's authority,  
He finds their wavering faiths, perceiving plain  
That for his sake great Pompey was not slain.  
Then with a look still hiding fear goes he  
The stately temple of th'old god to see.  
Which speaks the ancient Macedonian greatness.  
But there delighted with no objects sweetness,  
Not with their gold, nor gods majestic dress,  
Nor losty city walls, with greediness  
Into the burying vault goes Caesar down  
There Macedonian Philip's mad-brained son  
The prosperous thief lies buried: whom just fate  
Slew in the world's revenge: vaults consecreate  
Contain those limbs, which through the world 'twere just  
To cast abroad: but fortune spared his dust,  
And to that Kingdom's end his fate remained.  
If ere the world her freedom had attained,  
He for a mock had been reserved, whose birth  
Brought such a dire example to the earth,  
So many lands to be possessed by one,  
Scorning the narrow bounds of Macedon,  
And Athens, which his father had subdued:  
Through Asian lands with human slaughter strewed,  
Led by too forward fates he rushes on,  
Driving his sword through every nation:  
Rivers unknown, Euphrates be distaines  
With Persians blood Ganges with Indians:  
Th'earth fatal mischief, lightning dire, that rend  
All people, and a star malevolent  
To nations. To invade the Southeast sea  
He built a fleet. Not barren Libya,  
Water, nor heat, nor Ammon's desert sands  
Could stop his course. Upon the Western lands  
(Following the world's devexe) he meant to tread,  
To compass both the poles, and drink Nile's head.  
But death did meet his course; that check alone▪  
Can nature give this King's ambition:  
Who to his grave the world's sole Empire bore,  
With the same envy, that 'twas got before;  
And wanting heirs left all he did obtain  
To be divided by the sword again.  
But feared in Parthia; and his Babylon  
He died. Oh shame, that Eastern nation  
Then trembled at the Macedonian spear  
far more, than now the Roman pile they fear.  
Though all the North, the West, and South be ●urs,  
In th' East the Parthian King contempes our powers.  
That, Which to Crassus proved a fatal place,  
A secure province to small Pella was.  
Now the young King come from Pelusium  
Had pacified the people's wrath: in whom  
As hostage of his peace, in Egypt's court  
Caesar was safe; when lo from Pharos port,  
Bribing the keeper to unchaine the same,  
In a small galley Cleopatra came  
Unknown to Caesar entering the house;  
The stain of Egypt, Rome's pernicious  
Fury, unchaste to Italyes disgrace,  
As much as Helena's bewitching face  
Fatal to Troy, and her own greeks did prove,  
As much Rome's broils did Cleopatra move.  
Our Capital she with her Sistrum scared,  
With Egypt's base effeminate rout prepared  
To seize Rome's Eagles, and a triumph get  
over captived Caesar: when at Leucas fleet  
It doubtful stood, whether the world that day  
A woman, and not Roman should obey.  
Her pride's first spring that impious night had been,  
That with our chiefs mixed that incestuous queen.  
Who would not pardon Anthony's mad love,  
When Caesar's flinty breast desires could move  
In midst of war, when heat of fight raged most,  
And in a cou●t haunted by Pompey's ghost?  
Imbrued with blood from dire Pharsalia's field  
Could he unto adulterous Venus yield?  
And mix with warlike cares (oh shameless head)  
A bastard issue, and unlawful bed;  
Forgetting Pompey, to beget a brother  
To thee, fair julia, on a strumpet mother:  
Suffering the forces of his scattered foes  
To join in Africa, basely he bestows  
Time in Egyptian love, a conqueror  
Not for himself, but to bestow on her;  
Wh●m, trusting to her beauty, without tears,  
Though gesture sad, with loose, as if rend hairs,  
Dressed in a beauteous, and becoming woe  
Did Cleopatra meet, bespeaking so:  
If, mighty Caesar, nobleness there be,  
Egyptian Lagus royal issued,  
Deposed and banished from my father's state,  
If thy great hand restore my former fate,  
Kneel at thy feet a queen; unto our nation  
Thou dost appear a gracious constellation.  
I am not the first woman that hath swayed  
The Pharian sceptre: Egypt has obeyed  
A queen; not sex excepted: I desire  
Thee read the will of my deceased Sire,  
Who left me there a partner to enjoy  
My brother's crown, and marriage bed. The boy  
(I know) would love his sister, were he free:  
But all his power, will, and affections be  
Under Photinas' girdle; To obtain  
The crown I beg not, Caesar from this stain  
Free thou our house: command the King to be  
A King, and free from servants tyranny.  
Shall slaves so proud of Pompey's, slaughter be,  
Threatening the same (which fates avert) to thee?  
Caesar, 'tis shame enough to th'earth, and thee  
His death Photinus gift, and guilt should be.  
Her suit in Caesar's ears had found small grace,  
But beauty pleads, and that incestuous face  
Prevails; the pleasures of a wanton bed  
Corrupt the judge. The King had purchased  
His peace with weighty sums of gold; which done,  
With sumptuous feasts this glad accord they crown.  
Her riot forth in highest pomp (not yet  
Transferred to Rome) did Cleopatra set.  
The house excelled those temples, which men build  
In wickedest times, the high-arched roofs were filled  
With wealth? high tresses golden tables bore:  
Nor did carved marble only cover o'er  
The house; alone th'unmixed Achates stood,  
And pillars of red marble: their feet trod  
On pavements of rich Onyx: pillars there  
Not covered with Egyptian Eben were;  
Eben was timber there, and that rich wood  
Not to adorn, but prop the Palace stood.  
The rooms with Ivory glisterens, and each door  
Inlaid with indian shells, embellished over  
With choicest Emeralds: the beds all shone  
With richest gems, and yellow jasper stone.  
Coverlids rich, some purple died in grain,  
Whose tincture was not from one Cauldron ta'en,  
Part wove of glittering gold, part scarlet die,  
As is th'Aegyptian use of Tapestry:  
The servitors stood by, and waiting pages,  
Some different in complexions, some in ages;  
Some of black Libyan hue, some golden hairs,  
Tha● Caesar yields in all his Germane wars  
He ne'er had seen so bright a yellow hair:  
Some stiff cu●l'd lo●kes on Sunburnt fore heads wear.  
Besides th'unhappy strength robbed company  
The Eunuched youths: near these were standing by  
Youths of a stronger age, yet those so young  
Scarce any down darkening their cheeks was sprung.  
down sat the Princes, and the higher power  
Caesar; her hurtful face all painted over  
Sat Cleopatra, not content alone  
T' enjoy her brother's bed, nor Egypt's crown:  
Laden with pearls? the read seas spoilt store  
On her rich hair, and wearied neck she wore.  
Her snowy breasts their whiteness did display  
Through the thin Sidonian tiffenay  
Wrought, and extended by the curious hand  
Of Egypt's workmen. Citron tables stand  
On Ivory tressells, such as Caesar's eyes  
Saw not, when he King juba did surprise.  
O blind ambitious madness to declare  
Your wealth to him, that makes a civil war,  
And tempt an armed guest. For though that he  
Sought not for wealth by wa●s impiety,  
And the world's wrack: suppose our cheifes of old  
Were there, composed of that poor age's mould,  
Fabri●ii, Curii grave, or that plain man  
That Consul from th' Etrurian ploughs was ta'en,  
Were sitting at those tables, whom to Rome  
With such a triumph he would wish to come.  
In golden plate they fill their feasting boards  
With what the air, the earth, or Nile affords,  
What luxury with vain ambition had  
Sought through the world, and not as hunger bad,  
Beasts, fowls, the gods of Egypt are devoured:  
From crystal ewers is Nile's water poured  
Upon their hands: studded with gems that shine  
Their bowls contain no Mareotike wine,  
But strong, and sparkling wines of Meroe,  
To whom few years give full maturity.  
With fragrant Nard, and neverfading rose  
Their heads are crowned: their hair anointed flows  
With sweetest cinnamon, that has not spent  
His savour in the air, nor lost his scent  
In foreign climes: and fresh Amomum brought  
From harvests near at hand, there Caesar's taught  
The riches of the spoilt world to take;  
And is ashamed that he a war did make  
With his poor son in law, desiring now  
Some quarrel would 'twixt him, and Egypt grow.  
When wine, and cates had tired their glutted pleasure,  
Caesar begins with long discourse to measure  
The hours of night, bespeaking gently thus  
The linen vested grave Achoreus:  
Old man devoted to religion,  
And, (which thine age confirms) despised by none  
Of all the gods, to longing ears relate  
Egypt's original, her site, and state,  
Worship of gods, and what doth ere remain  
In your old temples charactered, explain.  
The gods, that would be known, to us unfold,  
If your forefathers their religion told  
THE Athenian Plato once, when had you ere  
A guest more worthy, or more fit to hear?  
Rumour of Pompey drew our march thus far,  
And fame of you, for still in midst of war  
I leisure had of heaven, and gods to hear,  
And the stars course: nor shall Eudoxus year  
Excel my Consulship. But though so much  
My virtue be, my love of truth be such,  
There's nought I more desire to know at all  
Then Niles hid head, and strange original  
So many years unknown: grant but to me  
A certain hope the head of Nile to see,  
I'll leave off civil war. Caesar had done,  
When thus divine Achoreus begun:  
Let it be lawful, Caesar to unfold  
Our great forefathers secrets hid of old  
From the lay people. Let who ere suppose  
It piety to keep these wonders close:  
I think the gods are pleased to be made known;  
And have their sacred laws to people shown:  
Planets, which cross, and slack the tenth spheres course,  
Had from the world's first law their different powers.  
The Sun divides the years, makes nights, and days,  
Dims other stars with his resplendent rays.  
And their wil●e courses moderates; the tides  
Of Thetis Phabes growth, and waning guides.  
Saturn cold i●e, and frozen zones obtains;  
Mars o'er the winds, and winged lightning reigns;  
Quiet well tempered air doth jove possess;  
The seeds of all things Venus cherishes;  
Cyllenius rules o'er waters which are great;  
He when he enters, where the dog-st●rs heat,  
And burning fire's displayed, there where th● sign  
Of Cancer hot doth with the Lion join,  
And where the Zodiac holds his Capricorn,  
And Cancer, under which Nile's head is borne:  
o'er which when Mercuryes proud fires do stand,  
And in a line direct, (as by command  
Of Phoebe the obeying Ocean grows)  
So from his opened fountain Nilus flows;  
Nor ebbs again till night have from the Sun  
Those hours recovered, which the summer wor.  
Vain was the old opinion, that Nile's flow  
Was caused, or helped by Aethiopian snow.  
For on those hills cold Boreas never blows▪  
As there the natives Sunburnt visage shows,  
And moist hot Southern winds. Besides the head  
Of every stream, that from thawed i●e is bred,  
Swells then, when first the spring dissolves the snows.  
But Nile before the dog-days never flows,  
Nor is confined within his banks again  
Till the Autumnal aequinoctian:  
Thence 'tis he knows no laws of other streams,  
Nor swells in winter, when Sols scorching beams  
Are far remote, his waters want their end:  
But Nile comes forth in summer time to lend  
A cooler temper to the sweltering air,  
Under the torrid zone, lest fire impair  
The earth, unto her succour Nilus draws,  
And swells against the Lion's burning jaws.  
And when hot Cancer his Siene burns,  
Unto her aid implored Nilus turns:  
Nor till the Sun to Autumn do descend,  
And that hot Meroe her shades extend,  
Doth he restore again the drowned field.  
Who can the causes of this flowing yield?  
Even so our mother nature hath decreed  
That Nile should flow, and so the world hath need,  
As vainly doth antiquity declare  
The West winds cause of this increases are,  
Which keep their seasons strictly, and long stay,  
And bear within the air continued sway.  
These from the Western parts all clouds exile  
Beyond the South, and hang them over Nile:  
Or else their blasts the river's current meet,  
And will not let it to the Ocean get;  
Prevented so from falling to the main  
The stream swells back, and overflows the plain.  
Some through the caverns of earth's hollow won be  
In secret channels think these waters come  
Attracted to th' aequator from the cold  
North climb, when Sol his Mer●ë doth hold,  
The scorched earth attracting water, thither  
Ganges, and Padus flow unseen together:  
Venting all rivers at one fountain so  
Within one channel Nilus cannot go.  
From th'Ocean swelling, which beguirts about  
All lands, some think, increased Nile breaks out;  
The waters lose, ere they so far have ran,  
Their saltness quite. Besides the Ocean  
Is the stars fond, we think, which Phoebius draws,  
When he possesseth fiery Cancers claws▪  
More than the air digests attraced so  
Falls back by night, and causes Nilus flow.  
I think if I may judge so great a case,  
Some waters since the world created was,  
In after ages from some broken vain  
Of earth have grown; some god did then ordain,  
When he created all the world, whose tides  
By certain laws the great Creator guides.  
Caesar's desire to know our Nilus' spring  
Possessed th' Egyptian, Persian, Grecian King;  
No age, but strived to future time to teach  
This skill: none yet his hidden nature reach.  
Philipp's great son, Memphis most honoured King  
Sent to th' earth's utmost bounds to find Nile's spring  
Choice aethiop's; they trod the sunburnt ground  
Of the hot zone, and there warm Nilus found.  
The farthest West our great Sesostris saw,  
Whilst captive Kings, did his proud chariot draw:  
Yet there your Rhodanus, and Padus spied  
Before our N●les hid fountain he descried.  
The mad Cambyses to the Eastern lands,  
And long-lived people came. His famished bands  
Q●te spent, and with each others (a) slaughter fed  
Returned thou, Nile, yet undiscovered.  
No tale dares mention thine original,  
thouart sought, wherever seen. No land at all  
Can boast that Nile is hers. Yet I'll reveal,  
As far as that same god, that doth conceal  
Thy spring, inspires me. From th' Antarctic pole  
Under hot Cancer do thy surges roll  
Directly North, winding to East and West,  
Sometimes th' Arabians, sometimes Libian blessed  
With fruitfulness thou mak'st, the Seres spy  
Thee first, and seek thee too, thy channel by  
The Aethiopians, as a stranger flows:  
And the world knows not to what land it owes  
Thy sacred head, which nature hid from all,  
Lest any land should see thee, Nilus, small.  
She turned away thy spring, and did desire  
No land should know it, but all lands admire.  
Thou in the summer Solstice art oreflowne  
Bringing with thee a winter of thine own,  
When winter is not ours: nature alone  
Suffers thy streams to both the poles to run.  
Not there thy mouth, not here thy spring is found.  
Thy parted channel doth encompass round  
Meroe fruitful to black husbandmen,  
And rich in Eben wood: whose leaves, though green,  
Can with no shade assuage the summer's heat,  
Under the Lion so directly set.  
From thence thy current with no waters loss  
o'er the hot zone, and barren deserts goes,  
Sometimes collected in one channel going,  
Sometimes dispersed and yielding banks oreflowing.  
His parted arms again collected slide  
In one slow stream, where Philas doth divide  
Arabia from Egypt o'er the sand,  
Where the red sea by one small neck of land  
From ours is kept, thou, Nile, dost gently flow.  
Oh who would think thou ere so rough couldst grow  
That sees thee gentle here, but when thy way  
Step Cataracts, and craggy rocks would stay,  
Thy never-curbed waves with scorn despise  
Those petty lets, and foaming jave the skies:  
Thy waters sound, with noise the neighbouring hills  
Thy conquering stream with froth grown hoary fills.  
Hence he with fury first assaults that I'll,  
Which our forefathers did Abatos stile,  
And those near rocks, which they were pleas'to call  
The rivers veins, because they first of all  
His swelling growth did show. Hence nature did  
His straggling waves within high mountains hide,  
Which part thee, Nile, from Africa; betwixt those  
As in a vale thy penned up water flows.  
At Memphis first thou runnest in fields, and plains,  
Where thy proud stream all banks, and bounds disdains.  
Thus they secure, as if in peace, a part  
Of night discoursed. But base Photinus' heart  
Once stained with sacred blood, could ne'er be free  
From horrid thoughts. Since Pompey's murder he  
Counts nought a crime? great Pompey's Manes bide  
Within his breast, and vengeful furies guide  
His thoughts to monsters new, hoping to stain  
Base hands with Caesar's blood, which fates ordain  
Great Senators shall shed. Fate to a slave  
That day almost the Senate's vengeance gave,  
The mulct of civil war. Oh gods defend,  
Let none that life in Brutus' absence end.  
Shall th'execution of Rome's tyrant be  
Base Egypt's crime, and that example die?  
Bold man, he makes attempt against fate's course,  
Nor at close murder aims, by op●n force  
A most unconquered Captain he assaults;  
So much are minds emboldened by their faults.  
He durst the death of Caesar now command,  
As Pompey's once, and by a faithful hand  
To stern Achillas this dire message send,  
Who shared with him in murdered Pompey's end,  
Whom the weak King against himself, and all  
Trusts with a strength, his forces general.  
Thou on thy downy bed securely snort,  
Whilst Cleopatra hath surprised the court.  
Pharos it not betrayed, but given away.  
Hast thou (though all alone) this match to stay.  
Th'incestuous sister shall her brother wed,  
Caesar already has enjoyed her bed:  
'twixt those two husbands Egypt is her own,  
And Rome her hire for prostitution.  
Have Cleopatra's sorcerves beguiled  
Old Caesar's breast, and shall we trust a child?  
Who, if one night incestuously embraced  
The beastly pleasures of her bed he taste  
Clothed with the name of marriage, 'twixt each kiss  
He gives my head, and thine, the gibbet is  
Our fortune, if he find his sister sweet.  
H●pe we no aid from any side to meet:  
The King her husband, her adulterer  
Caesar; and we (I grant) both guilty are  
In Cleopatra's sight, where 'twill appear  
Crime great enough that we are chaste from her.  
Now by that crime, which we together did,  
And lost: and by the league we ratified  
In Pompey's blood, I pray be speedy here,  
Fill on the sudden all with war, and fear:  
Let blood break off the marriage night, and kill  
Our cruel Queen, whose arms so ere she fill  
In bed to night. Not fear we Caesar's sat:  
That which advanced him to this height of state,  
The fall of Pompey, was our glory too:  
Behold the shore, and learn what we can do,  
Our micheifes hope: behold the bloodyed wave,  
And in the dust great Pompey's little grave  
Scarce covering all his limbs He, whom we fear,  
Was but his peer. But we ignoble are  
In blood: all one: we stir no foreign state,  
Nor King to aid, but our own prosperous fate  
To mischief bring; and still into our hands  
Fortune delivers them; see ready stands  
Another nobler sacrifice than he;  
This second blood appeases Italy.  
The blood of Caesar will those stains remove,  
Which Pompey's murder stuck, and make Rome love  
Those hands she once thought guilty▪ Fear not than  
His fame, and strength, he's but a private man  
His army absent. This one night shall end  
The civil war, and to whole nations send  
A sacrifice t'appease their ghosts bestow,  
And pay the world that head, which fates do ow.  
Go confidently then then Caesar's throat:  
For Ptolomey let Egypt's soldiers do't,  
The Romans for themselves. But stay not thou;  
He's high with wine, and fit for Venus now.  
Do but attempt, the gods on thee bestow  
Th'effect of Brutus, and grave Cato's vow.  
Achillas prone to follow such advice  
Draws out his army strait in secret wise,  
Without loud signals given, or trumpets noise  
Their armed strength he suddenly employs.  
The greatest part were Roman soldiers there,  
But so degenerate, and (b) changed they were  
With foreign discipline; that void of shame  
Under a barbarous slaves command they came,  
Who should disdain to serve proud Egypt's King.  
No faith, nor piety those hirelings bring  
That follow camps: where greatest pay is had,  
There's greatest right; for money they invade,  
Not for their own just quarrel, Caesar's throat.  
Oh wickedness, within what land has not  
Our Empire's wretched fate found civil war?  
Those troops removed from Thessaly so far  
Rage Roman-like here upon Nilus' shore.  
What durst the house of Lagus venture more  
Had they received great Pompey? but each hand  
Performs that office, which the gods command:  
Each Roman hand help to this war must lend.  
The gods were so disposed Rome's state to rend.  
Nor now doth Caesar's, or great Pompey's love  
Divide the people, or their factions move.  
This civil war Achillas undertakes,  
A barbarous slave a Roman faction makes.  
And had not fates protected Caesar's blood,  
This side had won, in time both ready stood;  
The court in feasting drowned did openly  
To any treason; and then easily  
Might they have ta'en at table, Caesar's head,  
His blood amidst the feasting goblets shed.  
But in the night tumultuous war they fear,  
Promiscuous slaughter ruled by chance, lost there  
Their King might fall; so confident they are  
Of their own strength, they hasten not, but spare  
So great an actions opportunity.  
Slaves think differing Caesar's death to be  
A reparable loss. Till day break light  
His execution is put off. One night  
To Caesar's life Protinus power could give,  
Till Titan show his rising face to live.  
Now on mount Casius Lucifer appeared  
With hot, though infant day, had Egypt cheered;  
When from the wall they viewed those troops afar  
March on well ranked, and marshaled for a war,  
Not in loose maniples, but ready all  
To stand, or give a charge. The city wall  
Caesar distrusts, and shuts the palace too,  
So poor a siege enforced to undergo.  
Nor all the house can his small strength maintain,  
One little part great Caesar can contain:  
Whilst his great thoughts both fear, and anger bear,  
He fears assaults, and yet disdains to fear,  
So in small traps a noble Lion caught  
Rages, and bites his scorned goal with wrath;  
So would fierce Vulcan rage, could any stop  
Sicilian Aetna's fiery caverns top.  
He that in dire Pharsalian fields of late  
In a bad cause presumed on prosperous fate,  
And feared not the Senate's host, nor all  
The Roman Lords, nor Pompey general,  
Feared a slave's war: he here assaulted taken  
A house, whom Sythians bold dust near provoke,  
Th' Alani fierce, nor Mauritanians hot,  
Which fast-bound strangers barbarously shoot.  
He whom the Roman world could not suffice,  
Nor all that 'twixt the Gades, and India lies,  
Like a weak boy seeks lurking holes alone.  
Or woman in a late surprised town:  
Nor hopes for safety but in keeping close,  
And through each room with steps uncertain goes,  
But not without the King; him he retains  
About his person still: his life he means  
Shall the revenge, and expiation be  
Of his own fate; thy head, o Ptolomey,  
He means to throw for want of darts, or fire  
Against thy servants; as Medea dire,  
When her pursuing Sires revenge she fled,  
Stood armed against her little brother's head  
To stay her Sire. But desperate fate so nigh  
Enforced Caesar terms of peace to try.  
A courtier from the absent King is sent  
To check his men, and know this wars intent.  
But there the law of Nations could obtain  
No power: their King's Ambassador is slain  
Treating of peace, to add one horrid crime  
O monstrous Egypt, to thy impious clime.  
Impious Pharnaces Pontus Thessaly,  
Nor Spain, nor jubaes' far-spread monarchy,  
Nor barbarous Syrtis durst attempt to do,  
What here ●ffaeminate Egypt reaches too.  
The war on every side grows dangerous,  
And showers of falling darts even shake the house.  
No battering ram had they to force the wall,  
Nor any engine fit for war at all:  
Nor used they fire: the skilless people run  
Through the vast palace scattered up, and down,  
And use their joined strength no where at all:  
The fates forbid, and fortune's Caesar's wall.  
But where the gorgeous palace proudly stands  
Into the sea, from ships the Naval bands  
Assault the house; but Caesar every where  
Is for defence at hand, and weapons here,  
There wildfire uses. Though besieged he be,  
Doth the besiedgers work (such strength had he  
Of constant spirit) wild fire balls he threw  
Among the joined ships; nor slowly flew  
The flame on pitchy shrowds, and boards, that drop  
With melted wax: at once the saileyards top,  
And lowest hatches burn. An half burnt boat  
Here drowns in seas, their foes and weapons float,  
Nor o'er the ships alone do flames prevail;  
But all the houses near the shore assail:  
The South winds feed the flame, and drive it on  
Along the houses with such motion,  
As through the Welkin fiery meteors run,  
That wanting fuel feed on air alone,  
This fire a while the courts besiedging stayed,  
And drew the people to the cities aid.  
Caesar that time would not in sleep bestow,  
Who well could use occasions, and knew how  
In war to take the greatest benefit  
Of sudden chances, ships his men by night,  
Surprises Pharos: Pharos heretofore  
An Island was, when prophet Proteus wore  
That crown: but joined to Alexandria now.  
Two helps on Caesar doth that fort bestow:  
Commands the sea, the foes incursions stayed,  
And made a passage safe for Caesar's aid.  
He now intends no longer to differ  
Protinus (c) death, though not enough severe.  
Not fire, nor beasts, nor gibbets reave his breath,  
Slain with a sword he dies great Pompey's death.  
Arsinoe (d) from court escaped goes  
By Ganymedes help to Caesar's foes,  
The ●owne (as Lagus daughter) to obtain,  
By whose just sword was stern Achillas slain.  
Another to thy ghost is sacrificed  
Pompey, but fortune is not yet sufficed,  
Far be it, ●ods, that these two deaths should be  
His full revenge; the fall of Ptolomey,  
And Egypt's ruin not enough is thought:  
Nor ere can his revenge be fully wrought,  
Till Caesar by the Senate's swords be slain.  
But though the author's dead, these broils remain;  
For Ganymedes now commander moved  
A second war, which full of danger proved.  
So great the peril was, that day alone  
Might Caesar's name to future times renown.  
While Caesar strives penned up so closely there  
To ship his men from thence, a sudden fear  
Of war did his intended passage meet:  
Before his face the foes well-rigged fleet,  
Behind their foot from shore against him fight:  
No way of safety's left, valour, nor flight,  
Nor scarce doth hope of noble death remain.  
No heaps of bodies, no whole armies slain  
Are now required to conquer Caesar there:  
A little blood will serve. Whether to fear,  
Or wish for death he knows not. In this same  
Sad strait, he thinks of noble Scaeva's fame,  
Who at Dyrrachium, when his works were down,  
Beseidged all Pompey's strength himself alone:  
Th'example raised his thoughts, resolved to do  
What Scaeva did; but strait a scorn to owe  
His valour to examples, checks again  
That high resolve: great thoughts, great thoughts restrain.  
Yet thus at last; Scaeva was mine, 'twas I  
Nurtured that spirit: if like him I die,  
I do not imitate, but Caesar's ●eate  
Rather confirms that Scaevas act was great.  
In this resolve had Caesar charged them all  
Himself alone, and so a glorious fall  
(Slain by a thousand hands at once) had met,  
Or else ennobled by a death so great  
Those thousand hands; but fortune was afraid  
To venture Caesar further than her aid  
Could lend a famous rescue, and endear  
The danger to him; she discovers near  
Ships of his own; thither when Caesar makes,  
He finds no safety there, but strait forsakes  
Those ships again, and leaps into the main.  
The trembling billows feared to entertain  
So great a pledge of fortune, one to whom  
Fate owed so many victories to come  
And jove (whilst he on Caesar's danger looks)  
Suspects the truth of th'adamantine books.  
Who could have thought, but that the gods above  
Had now begun to favour Rome, and love  
Her liberty again? and that the fate  
Of Pompey's sons, of Cato, and the state  
'Gainst Caesar's fortune had prevailed now?  
Why do the powers Celestial labour so,  
To be unjust again? again take care  
To save that life they had exposed so far  
That now the danger even in Caesar's eye,  
Might clear their doom of partiality?  
But he must live until his fall may prove  
Brutus and Cassius were more just than jove.  
Now all alone on seas doth Caesar float;  
Himself the oars, the Pilot, and the boat;  
Yet could not all these offices employ  
One man's whole strength, for his left hand on high  
Raised, holds up his papers, and preserves  
The fame of his past deeds, his right hand serves  
To cut the waves, and guard his life alone  
'Gainst th' Ocean's perils, and all darts, which thrown  
From every side do darken all the sky,  
And make a cloud, though heaven itself deny,  
Two hundred paces thus alone he swum  
Till to the body of his feet he came,  
His o'erjoyed soldiers shouting to the skies  
Take sure presage of future victories.  
FINIS.   

Annotations on the tenth Book.  
(a) Cambyses the son of Cyrus, and king of Persia added to his monarchy the kingdom of Egypt; he intended a farther war against the Aethiopians, which are called Macrobij by reason of the extraordinary length of their natural lives. But by reason of the tediousness of the march, and want of provision, there was in his army a great famine, that they killed by lot every tenth soldier, and fed upon them.  
(b) Achillas coming to assault Caesar had an army of twenty thousand; they were many of them Roman soldiers, which had served before under Gabinius, but had changed their manner of life, and corrupted with the riot of Egypt, had quite forgotten the Roman discipline  
(c) Photinus the King's tutor remaining with Caesar sent secret encouragements to Achillas to go forward with his siege, which being discovered by interception of his messengers he was slain by Caesar.  
(d) Ganymedes an Eunuch, and tutor to Arsinoe the younger sister of the King of Egypt, assaulted Achillas by treachery, and sl●w him, and being himself made General of the army he continued the siege against Caesar.  
FJNJS.