THE ORATION OF CICERO FOR M. Marcellus.  
Done into English.  
With an APPENDIX Relating to the Prince of Orange.  
LONDON, Printed for Walter Kettilby, at the Bishop's-head in St. Paul's Churchyard, 1689.   

THE ORATION OF CICERO FOR M. Marcellus.  
Done into English.  
THIS day has put an end, O ye Senators, to the long silence I kept during our late troubles, a silence which no apprehension of danger, but partly the heaviness of my grief, and partly respects of modesty did oblige me to; and it has at once given me opportunity of expressing my desires and thoughts with the same freedom I was heretofore wont to deliver them in this Audience. For so great an instance of Gentleness, such a rare and unheard of Clemency, that admirable Temper, as to all points in conjunction with supreme Power, and then so incredible besides, and almost divine Wisdom, are things too extraordinary to be overlooked, and to pass away without any noise or notice. For M. Marcellus being thus honourably returned to you, and to the Commonwealth, I make full account, that not his only, but my voice, and authority also restored unto both; for I could not choose but grieve, and be extremely troubled, when I saw that a person of his merit, who had embarked with me in the same interest, did not share alike with me in the same fortune; neither could I persuade myself to appear in public, nor did it seem reasonable or graceful, that I alone should carry on our old employment, when he, who had set me as a pattern for imitation, he the most ingenious, and withal the most affectionate rival of my Studies and Practice, whom I always looked upon as a partner and companion therein, was now forcibly torn, and divorced from me. You therefore, O Caesar, by clearing the passage to his return, have opened my way too, and both invited me to resume the former course of my life, and given all here a very signal encouragement to hope and believe well of the Commonwealth in general. For my part, I did plainly perceive from your dealing with several persons, and more sensibly in my own case, but now of late all men are satisfied thereof, since you released Marcellus at our common instance, to the Senate, People, and State of Rome; especially after mention of divers things he had said and done, which did highly disoblige and offend you; upon this the whole World was convinced that you prefer the Authority of this House, and the public Dignity, before any resentments or suspicions of your own. He indeed, as well by the unanimous accord of the whole Senate, as by your most weighty and most valuable Sentence, has to day received the highest recompense of all his life past; from which doubtless you understand how greatly commendable this Action is in you, when the vouchsafement does prove so glorious to him; and certainly he may now pass for a happy man, whose particular safety has conveyed to every one a content and pleasure, little inferior to that which he himself will receive from it: A felicity this to which he had the clearest right, that deservedly befell him; and with good reason; for who can pretend to surpass and outvie him, either as to the nobleness of his Blood, the probity of his Mind, or the study of excellent Arts, or the innocence of his Carriage, or in any kind of worth and commendation whatsoever: There is no man living hath such a fluency of Wit, no body is master of that forcible and copious Eloquence, as may enable him, O Caesar, either by his Tongue or Pen, I will not say, to adorn and set off, but so much as to enumerate and recount your marvellous achievements; yet this I maintain, and hope I may say it without offence, that none of them has gotten you a greater reputation, than that which is the purchase of this day. It is a thing very often in my thoughts, and which I make the usual matter of my discourse, that all the famous exploits of our own Generals, all the bravest actions of foreign Nations, and the most potent States, all those memorable deeds of the most renowned Monarches, are not able to bear the least comparison with yours; And that, either as to the sharpness of the Conflicts, or the number of the Battles, or the variety of Climates, or the quickness of Dispatch, or the different nature of the Wars themselves: Nor indeed could any one travel through the most distant Countries with the same speed that you have run them over, I will not say by your swift Marches, but your nimble Victories. I should be little better than distracted not to own such performances as these to be so vast and vigorous, that scarce any man can reach them with the motions of his Mind, or the flights of Fancy: And yet there are other things still which in my opinion do far exceed them; for many make it their business to abate and lessen the repute which is got in War; they will detract from a Captain and divide part of his praise among common Soldiers, that Commanders alone may not appropriate the honour of great services; nor can it be denied that the valour of Soldiers, the advantages of Place, the assistance of Allies, that Navies, Provisions, and the like, are of huge importance in all military affairs; beside that Fortune does step in here also for the largest share, which she challenges as a due, and whatsoever is attended with good success, she reckons that in a manner to be all her own: But this glory, O Caesar, you have so lately acquired, does admit none to a partnership with you, the sum total of that, (how much soever it amounts to) which certainly must be very great, the whole of it, I say, is entirely yours; no Captain or Colonel, neither Infantry or Cavalry, can bring any title to that praise, or enter into the merits it is founded on; nay, even Fortune herself, that Lady Governess of humane things, has not the confidence to offer at a claim and interest in this glory; she acknowledges the clearness of the case, and gives up all to you, without the least entrenchment on so visible a right, and your peculiar property.  
And it must of necessity be thus here, since there can be no mixture or fellowship, between rashness and prudence, nor is chance and haphazard ever let into the Debates of Council.  
You have subdued Nations, it is true, barbarous as to cruelty, innumerable for multitude, and infinitely distant in places, abounding too with stores and provisions of all sorts; but after all is said, you then overcame things that were superable by Nature, whose very state and constitution rendered them obnoxius to conquest; for there is no such Power in the world, nor any Forces so great, as that none may be able to defeat and ruin them by Arms and Puissence.  
But now for any one to master his own mind, to restrain his passion, to moderate his victory, not only to raise up a noble, a witty a valiant adversary from his low estate, but also to enlarge and heighten his former dignity; he that acts after this unusual and heroic rate, is a person I forbear to rank among the worthiest Men, but resemble him rather to God himself.  
The Fame then of your martial Exploits shall become a theme of Panegyric, not for us Romans alone, but they shall employ the Orators and Historians of almost all Nations, and pass down with celebration and applause to every Age of the World. And yet for all the terrible noise that such adventures make, I know not how it happens, that when people read or rehearse them to each other, they seem to be drowned, as it were, with the shout of soldiers and the sound of trumpets. But when we read or hear of a transaction that was managed with clemency, with mildness, with justice, with great temper and discretion, especially under provocation, which can hardly brook any sober counsel, and in the midst of victory beside, that is naturally insolent and of a haughty carriage; the business than does so mightily warm and affect us, not only in a real case, but when the story is romantic, that very oft we conceive an inclination for those whom we never saw: But as for you, O Caesar, seeing we behold your person, and enjoy your presence among us, when your mind and meaning is no less visible than your aspect, since you have given us so many demonstrations of your care and pleasure to preserve whatever the fortune of War has left standing in the Commonwealth, what acclamations and praises, what affectionate regards, and what testimonies of kindness do you deserve from us? It is my opinion, and I speak it with great seriousness, that the very walls of this venerable Court are desirous also to offer you their acknowledgements, foreseeing as it were that the whole Senate will in a little time, recover its ancient authority, and use it shortly here, with a freedom due unto the place, and worthy of those Benches where they now sit. I must needs confess, when I beheld the tears which C. Marcellus, an excellent person, and strangely fond of his brother Marcus, shed lately before you, that a remembrance of all the Marcelli did then come into my mind, and touch me to the quick; to whom you, O Caesar, have restored their dignity after death by preserving Marcus, and rescued a noble family (reduced now to a small number) from decay and ruin. You ought therefore to value yourself more, and set a higher esteem upon the sole honour of this concession, than of all the loud and numerous Gratulations that were ever made you; for this is the proper action and the personal merit of Caesar only: Other things were achieved under your conduct and direction; great services indeed those, but in which you were attended with much company, and a mighty train of followers; whereas nothing of that appears here, you being your own Leader at once, and retinue also, a guide and companion to yourself alone. The thing than I am speaking of, is herein hugely considerable, and has this eminent advantage, that, when the Trophies and Monuments erected by you shall decline, and hasten to a period, (for there is no workmanship of Art, or effect of Industry, which old age does not impair by degrees, and finally demolish) this justice and lenity of yours shall have a quite contrary fortune, and the more it grows in years, become still the more fresh and flourishing; so that how much soever any length of time may detract from the stateliness of your Fabrics, shall certainly be added to the height of your Commendation. As for all others that happened to be victorious in Civil Wars, you had formerly outdone them in equity and mercy, and this day was reserved for the nobler Conquest of yourself.  
I am afraid my Auditors may not so clearly and rightly apprehend what I am going to deliver, as I conceive it in my own thoughts; now the thing I would express is this, That you seem to have vanquished and worsted even Victory itself, since you discharge the obnoxious, and refuse to exact those forfeitures, which a Conqueror might fairly pretend to; for when we of the adverse party were but so many dead men according to the Laws of Conquest, you have preserved us all by the judgement of your clemency, So that you alone may be well termed invincible, who have brought into subjection the very state and power of Victory. Now inasmuch as Caesar has been pleased to pass such a sentence in our favour, let me request the Senate to consider, what is the natural consequence thereof, and how far it does extend; for as many of us as were driven to take up Arms through I know not what wretched and lamentable fate of the Commonwealth, though guilty perhaps of some humane failings, are acquitted thereby from all imputation of wickedness; for when, upon your intercession he condescended to spare and release Marcellus, he did at the same time restore me to myself, and to the Roman State, and many other honourable persons to themselves and their native soil, without the least entreaty, who now make their appearance in great numbers, and with much splendour at this Assembly. We must not imagine he has brought any into the Senate, whom he looks upon as Enemies, but he rightly supposes, that ignorance and misprision, a false and groundless fear, rather than passion and cruelty, did engage most of them to enter into a Civil War; during the course of which, it was ever my opinion, that we should all hearken to overtures of Peace; and I was always troubled to observe, that not only Peace itself, but even the Discourses of those who did propose and demand it, were still rejected by us; for I never did promote or approve these intestine Discords, nor indeed any domestic Broils or Contests whatsoever: my Counsels, it is well known, did incline to quietness, and sided constantly with the Gown, but were no friends to the rattling of Arms and the rage of Battles. I went over to Pompey, 'tis true, but I was drawn into his Camp rather on a private score of my own particular engagements, than any just consideration of the public interest; when the pure sentiments of gratitude and an honest remembrance of past kindness had such a prevalence over me, that not only without any eagerness of desire, but so much as the least hope of advantage or success, I did, as it were, wittingly and knowingly precipitate myself into a wilful overthrow. Which aim and intention of mine was not made a secret; for I had often and earnestly spoke here, and that before ever the War broke out, touching the means of accommodation; and, after things came to extremity, I continued firm in the same mind, though with the manifest hazard of my life by it. So that no body sure can be so much swayed by prejudice in his estimate of matters, as once to question what was Coesar's inclination and desire in reference to the War, when he presently declared himself in favour of such as had made it their business to compose things; but gave marks of his displeasure against all those who had pushed them on to a final rupture: which proceeding of his would then perhaps have been less wondered at, while the event was uncertain, and the chance of War appeared yet to be loose and dubious; but he that, having gotten the Victory, shows a real kindness for the known Authors of peace, does, methinks, sufficiently evidence he had rather not have fought than overcome by fight. And I must do Marcellus that justice to testify thus much on his behalf, (for as our opinion did not differ in the time of Peace, so there was the same agreement between us while the War lasted,) How often, alas! and with what disorder of mind! have I seen him both detest the insolence of certain men, yea and even dread, on that side, the sierce and ungovernable spirit of victory itself: so that we, O Caesar, who have had experience of a quite contrary temper, must needs be the more taken with this your generous and noble usage; for now I shall compare, not the causes themselves, but the respective victories: as for yours, we have seen it ended with the decision of the Battle; this City has not been terrified so much as with the sight of a naked Sword; how many soever of our friends and relations are now missing, their loss must be imputed to the stress and havoc of War alone, not to any heat and outrage of victory; So that there is no question to be made, but than Caesar, if possible, would raise up many a Pompeian from his grave, seeing he saves every one he can of the remaining Army. As for the other Party, I shall say no more than what we were all apprehensive of, that their Conquest would in all likelihood have proved over sharp and violent; for some of them have been heard to threaten, not only their armed adversaries, and the active sticklers against them, but even all the quiet and peaceable sort, because they sat still without entering into their quarrel; and it was given out as a Maxim with these, that no consideration should be had how any man stood affected, but how he did dispose of his person in that conjuncture ● So that notwithstanding the immortal powers may have raised this desperate and bloody War, as a punishment of our crimes, yet being either appeased now, or even glutted at length with the Roman sufferings, they seem to have cast the entire hope of our safety, upon the Wisdom and Clemency of such a Conqueror.  
Rejoice therefore, O Caesar, in that excellent and happy disposition of yours, and, together with the fortune, and the glory which wait upon you, enjoy also the benignity of your nature, and the sweetness of your deportment, which bring in the greatest gain, and afford the most exquisite pleasure to a wise man. Upon a survey and remembrance of all your other Achievements, though frequently your Valour may deserve the thanks, yet for the most part they will appear due to your great Felicity: But as often as you think of us, whom you were pleased to indemnify and retain with you in the Commonwealth, so often shall you think of your own incomparable benefits; then that the Ideas and results of a Godlike bounty and sublime wisdom occur to you; which I not only reckon to be things of a sovereign excellence, but shall venture to affirm, that nothing is good beside, or in comparison with them. For there is that lustre and shining in deserved Praise, such a State and Majesty does flow from true Greatness of Mind, and a sage Conduct, that these seem to be freely given us by Virtue, but other things to be only borrowed of Fortune. Let me exhort you then never to be tired out in your care and protection of good men, and such especially as have been subject to slips and deviations, not through any perverse or impetuous humour, but from an opinion of duty (which peradventure might have weakness in it, but certainly no malice) and by some little specious appearance of State-interest: For how could you help it, if some undiscerning and mistrustful people were afraid of you; but then on the contrary it makes very much for your honour to have convinced them since, that their fears and jealousies were without reason.  
I proceed now to that grievous Complaint and heavy Suspicion of yours; to satisfy and clear which, you cannot but be more nearly concerned yourself, than all the Citizens of Rome, and we above the rest (who stand indebted to you for our Lives) are solicitous and careful to provide against it; and although I am not without hope that such a startling surmise may prove false and without foundation, yet I shall not use any artifice here to extenuate or disguise the matter, being well assured that the caution we take for you, is the common security of us all; so that if I must unavoidably run into extremes, and there be no way left to escape erring on one side or other, I had much rather, (considering the nicety and weightiness of this case) be thought excessively fearful in my fears, than seem the least defective in a due foresight and providence. But who should this so furious Aggressour and desperate Assassin be? Is he one of your own creatures? (and yet who can possibly be more yours than such as were effectually made so, by the unexpected grant of their lives and fortunes.) Or may I suppose him to be one of that number which followed you to the Wars? But than it is highly incredible that any man should be so void of understanding, or fall into such a fit of distraction, as not to prefer the life of that General before his own, who had raised him to wealth and honour, and the highest dignities and preferments in the Roman State.  
However if your friends and dependants are alike utterly incapable of such a cursed design, let us take care to prevent your Enemies from attempting aught of the same barbarous and horrid nature; What enemies, I beseech you? since all of that denomination have either lost their lives through their own obstinacy, or else retain and enjoy them by your grace and favour; so that either you have no enemies at all in being, or else they that survive must needs have the greatest friendship in the world for you.  
But seeing there is that close shelter and safe refuge for villainy in the minds of men, and they have so many ways to conceal or disguise their intentions, let us raise and heighten your suspicion at the present, for by that means we shall at once quicken your diligence and increase our own. For is there any man living so ignorant of things? so much a stranger to our affairs? or that takes so little thought, either about his own, or the public safety? as not to perceive and know that his own personal security is involved in yours, and that the lives of us all do depend on your single preservation? When the motions of a sensible concern (which presents you continually to my mind, and that with good reason,) do work within me. I am apt only to apprehend the usual accidents of humanity, or the uncertain issues of health, or the common frailties of nature; and it very much afflicts me to consider, that the Republic, which was made for immortality, and should last always, has no other present subsistence, but what is drawn from the breath, and lodged in the welfare of one mortal. But now if, beside humane casualties, and the ticklish condition of health, we are also liable to the assaults of wicked and treacherous Conspirators, what Guardian-Angel, do we think, let him desire it never so much, shall be able to defend and secure the Roman Government? You, O Caesar, and you only, are to raise and erect all you find ruinous, and which must of necessity have been shattered and broken by the shock and violence of the War itself; you must establish Judgement, and restore Faith, and restrain licentiousness, and propagate a new Offspring; whatsoever is fallen in pieces, or has slipped out of its due place, must be made up, and knit firmly together by severe Laws. Amidst our late eager Animosities and warm Conflicts, and in that vehement Clashing as well of Inclinations as of Arms, there was no help for it, whoever should get the better, but that the poor shaken Republic must infallibly lose, both several ornaments of its honour, and many supports of its strength and firmness; and that the Leader of each party should do many things himself in his Coat of Mail, which he would not have suffered when he wore a Gown. Now all these gashes and contusions do expect to be closed and cured by your hand, to which no body else can apply any healing remedy. Give me leave therefore to declare how uneasy I was to hear you come out with that, however worthy and wise, saying of yours, wherein we are told, that you had even lived long enough already, either with respect to the measures of Nature, or the stretch of Glory: Now suppose the extent of your life to have been such, if you will needs have it so, as may suffice Nature, I shall add likewise, since it is your pleasure to say it, as may have reached the attainment, and satisfied the ends of a glorious reputation; but then (that which is the most considerable point here) it appears little to us who do yet need your assistence, and falls very short still in regard of that charitable relief, and those important services your native Country demands from you: Wherefore I must entreat you to lay aside all that Philosophic learning and unseasonable sageness in despising death; do not resolve to show yourself brave and prudent, at our cost, and with the public hazard: For I am frequently informed that you too often discourse after the old strain, and to this effect, that you have lived sufficiently in reference to yourself, and your own concerns: I do verily believe you speak just as you think, but I should then bear it with greater patience, did you live merely for your own sake, or if you were brought into the World for yourself only; but when the welfare and happiness of each individual Roman, and that of the whole Community is included and wrapped up, as it were, within the circle and compass of your Actions, you seem to be so far from the due perfection, and signal accomplishment of your mighty works, that you have not yet laid the very foundations you design. Will you then limit and measure out your life, not by the rule and standard of our common good, and a general interest, but by some plausible notions of equity, and the rare moderation of your private sentiments? Now what if all hitherto does not prove sufficient, even for your own glory? which all the wisdom you have cannot possibly extinguish the thirst of, or even force you to disown the passionate desire you have for it. But imagine, say you, I were to die immediately, would any man think I should leave then but a slight and slender reputation behind me? For others, I grant, there would be a fair inheritance of glory, though many were to share and divide the purchase; but all that treasure of fame would be poor and incompetent for you alone: for let it be never so vast and extensive, the thing will then seem to be little and scanty, when a larger object appears, and there is somewhat still more ample behind it. But if this, O Caesar, must be the end and upshot of all you have Achieved, and we are to see no farther advantage of your immortal deeds, but that, after the defeat of your enemies, the unhappy Republic shall be left still in that torn and tottering condition, wherein we now find it, take care, I beseech you, lest that undaunted Courage and divine Virtue of yours may attract perhaps more admiration than glory: For true glory does import an illustrious and diffusive Fame arising from great and numerous obligations, conferred either upon Fellow-Citizens, or the whole Country where we live, or the Universal Body of Mankind.  
This therefore is the last honour reserved for you, this is the remaining part you are now to act; herein you must bestir yourself, and proceed vigorously to order and compose things, to fix and rivet the Commonwealth; and when it is settled in the first place, you may then take and enjoy your own ease, and repose yourself in the sweetest pleasures of a deep tranquillity: after you have quitted all scores with your Country, and glutted Nature as it were with a long and various entertainment of Life; then, I say, you shall have our free consent to declare, if you be so minded, that you have enough of this World, and are even surfeited with living.  
But to talk of any long while in describing our continuance here, is a fond and idle impropriety; for what is this very length we speak of, which has a close and period? and, when that is come, all the foregoing pleasure ought to pass for nothing, because there will be none left to succeed it. Albeit that active and spacious Soul of yours could never acquiesce or contain itself within the narrow bounds which Nature has prescribed us, but was always inflamed by the love, and big with the conceit of Immortality: Nor indeed can this deserve to be reckoned for your life, which depends upon the body, and is kept up by a little transient breath; that, I say, is your proper subsistence, that only, O Caesar, is a life worthy of you, which shall flourish in the memory of all ages, which they that come after us will successively cherish and maintain, which Eternity itself will have an endless regard to, and shall support for ever.  
This is it you must consecrate your labours and travels to, and to this you must evidence what a gallant person you are, how much you are able and willing to do for its sake and service. We discern many things already in the glorious courses you pursue, which excite our wonder, but we now look for such as may deserve our commendation. It will be matter of astonishment to all future generations, when they shall read and hear of the charges you have born, the Provinces you have subdued, and what has been done by you in Germany, in the Ocean, and in Egypt; the perusal and report, I say, of your Battles without number, of your Victories above belief, of all your Trophies and Triumphs, shall questionless amaze and confound posterity: but unless this imperial City shall, by your authority and contrivance, be immovably pitched upon a solid bottom', your great and formidable Name than will only shift and wander about the World, but have no certain abode, nor any settled habitation. And as we ourselves have been of different minds, so will there be a great dissension among those that shall be born hereafter; when some shall cry up and extol your Achievements to the very Skies, while others may perhaps fancy them to be very lame and imperfect, as wanting their chief compliment and lustre, if you do not effectually provide, that the late blustering storms may expire at length into a calm of peace, and the settlement of your Country: so that the former may be thought a kind of fatal necessity, but the latter seem to proceed from design and counsel. Recommend therefore and approve yourself to those Judges, that shall pronounce of your Actions a thousand years hence, and, for aught I can tell, may give a more impartial sentence than we do at present; for their judgement will be equally void both of favour and prejudice, neither shall envy or hatred have any force to bias and corrupt them: And although this remote censure of theirs should not any way touch or affect you then (as some falsely imagine) however it concerns you now at least, so wisely and worthily to demean yourself, and appear one of such a character and credit, that no revolution of time, no forgetfulness of men, no ignorance of any age may ever obliterate or eclipse your Praises.  
From the very beginning of those unhappy Disputes, we Romans had our sentiments apart, and our wits divided; and the little janglings of thought and affection hurried us at length into several Camps, and armed defiances of each other: Nor is it much to be wondered we should draw different ways, under such puzzling and perplexed circumstances, while things were so much in the dark, and when a controversy arose between two of the most famous Captains in the World.  
Many did then deliberate what was absolutely the best, and not a few consider, what was best for themselves; some were demurring on the point of Decency, and others taken up with the Case of Conscience.  
The Republic, in fine, after much struggling, has got herself clear of this so miserable and fatal War, and he prevailed at last, who would not raise and ruffle his displeasure by success, but rather qualify and soften it by goodness; nor could he value provocations at such a dreadful rate, as to mark out all that should offend him either for death or banishment.  
The matter is now brought unto this issue, that some have laid down their Arms of their own accord, and others have been forced to surrender them. Whosoever then, being freely discharged from the guilt and peril of former opposition, does still retain hostility in his heart, is highly chargeable with ingratitude and injustice; and I look upon him to be much a better man, who appeared in the field, and was slain fight against you, than any one that shall now keep up the quarrel, and spend his last breath in the prosecution of it: for that which is thought mere obstinacy and a stubborn stifness by some, may pass for brave resolution, and a noble constancy with others.  
But seeing we have been well beaten into some kind of agreement, and all our heats and heart-burnings are now totally extinguished by those temperate and cooling applications of the Victour's kindness, it remains that every one of us, who has either a grain of discretion, or even of common sense, should unanimously agree as to your particular. For unless you, O Caesar, do continue safe, and in the same mind (which as well heretofore, as to day especially you have given proofs of) we are all utterly undone, and must inevitably perish: All of us therefore, who desire the preservation of this Empire, do at once earnestly exhort, and most humbly beseech you to have a care of your Life, and to consult your Safety: And forasmuch as you conceive there is some treachery on foot, and a secret mischief designed you, which requires caution, we all here with one consent (for I presume that of others which I mean myself) do not only promise to have a watchful eye, and keep a close guard about your person, but we offer you our own attendance beside, as ready to interpose betwixt you and danger, and even to hazard our lives for your defence and security.  
And now to close up all with gratulation, as I took my rise from it, we do all, O Caesar, return you our greatest thanks and acknowledgements, with a reservation of greater still than we are able to express; for all here have the same sentiments, as you might easily perceive by the joint supplications and tears of all: but because it is no way requisite that every one present should make you his single compliment, they were extreme desirous that I at least would undertake it in the name of all; who do now lie under some kind of necessity to perform it, because it is both their pleasure I should, and because, upon your restoring Marcellus to the Senate, and the People, and the whole State of Rome, I find myself particularly concerned to discharge that duty: for I observe this vouchsafement of yours has given such a public satisfaction, as if men did not rejoice now at the private deliverance of one person alone, but were transported with joy for their own common safety. If therefore, while there was the least question of his safety, I acted the part of a true friend toward Marcellus (as my affection for him was very well known, wherein I scarce yielded to his dear Caius, the best natured brother in the World, but to no man living besides him) if, I say, that singular kindness of mine did appear then, by the solicitude, and care, and industry I showed on his behalf, much more, undoubtedly, at this time, being newly freed from the weight of those troubles and perplexities, ought I to attest and evidence the goodwill I bear him.  
Wherefore I leave you, O Caesar, to imagine the deep and lively resentments I feel within me, desiring you would so interpret my thanks, as I understand the favour, which I do to such a degree of obligation, that although you have with all tenderness and respect, not only preserved my life, but taken care of my honour, yet by this action of yours (a thing which after that I thought wholly impossible) there is an infinite addition made to the many signal engagements you had heaped upon me.  
FINIS.   

AN APPENDIX TO THE TRANSLATION OF TULLY's Panegyric on JULIUS CAESAR FOR His Restauration of M. MARCELLUS, Relating to the Prince of Orange.  
LONDON, Printed for Walter Kettilby, at the Bishop's-head in St. Paul's Churchyard, 1689.   

AN APPENDIX TO THE TRANSLATION OF TVLLY's Panegyric on JULIUS CAESAR FOR His Restauration of M. MARCELLUS, Relating to the Prince of Orange.  

HE, who had ventured Cicero to translate,  
Would needs attempt your deeds to celebrate.  
But when his fancy faded as it wrought  
On that bold task, at length he wisely thought,  
This Gratulation put in English dress  
Might do the thing perhaps with more success;  
Since all now justly would apply to you,  
What once that Speaker made his Coesar's due;  
Though Coesar's business it of old did seem  
All to enslave, while yours is to redeem.  
If him such thanks the Orator does give,  
At most, for letting one Marcellus live,  
How would his raptured Language you adore,  
Who to three Kingdoms a new life restore;  
And that Peace, Order, Unity, Effect,  
He from his Master vainly did expect:  
So that all here was a Prophetic praise,  
Wrapped darkly up in Latin till our days,  
And its true meaning now in you displays.   

That then, with our Addresses, he may free,  
His highborn sense from servile flattery;  
For Panegyric, that he may not range,  
Let him have you for Julius in exchange;  
His matter else his rhetoric will not fit,  
He wants our subject, and we want his wit,  
Yours is the likeness though another sit.   

Yet after his inimitable hand,  
Still the resemblance does imperfect stand;  
To finish and adorn his piece, he drew  
All that was lovely then, and all he knew;  
But you such grace add to the Hero's air,  
And make his character so wondrous fair,  
That all Ideas they could raise of old,  
The strokes of mastery that were counted bold,  
And all their painting to the life long since,  
Would now look flat and dead about the Prince.   

However had he been preserved by fate,  
To see the marvels of this Eighty eight,  
And their great Author to congratulate,  
He might the weighty Argument sustain,  
Which we bend under, and support with pain.  
And when he came to touch, above the rest,  
That noble part, the sake and interest  
Of sacred justice, and of truth divine,  
Which gave the rise and spring to your design,  
What lightnings would he dart to make it shine?  
Were he a constancy to represent,  
Confirmed by danger and discouragement,  
Which difficulties and disasters whet,  
By obstacles and cross winds forward set;  
Then would he proudly in tost's Eloquence swim,  
Bear up, and strain the cordage of each limb;  
So would his style engage and force the storm,  
That you might feel him speak what you perform.   

After the Mental, having next surveyed  
The Naval preparations you had made,  
Seen what a joyful terror spooned away,  
All freighted with deliverance for Torbay,  
Here with that tide and torrent he would go,  
And sails so stretched, that you should hardly know  
Whether as yet you were a shore, or no:  
Like your own Frigates, this would all along  
Fire at his Eyes, and thunder in his Tongue.  
When all was ready for a fair descent,  
He would, like Archimedes, ways invent,  
How by once setting foot on English ground,  
You the whole Land should move, and turn it round.  
As against public force the Orbs above  
Wheel by the bias of a private love;  
As Lodestones Iron, as Jet and Amber Straw,  
Things different with like fondness to 'em draw,  
You should light hearts, and heavy steel attract,  
By virtue of the Cause for which you act.  
With Langston, Cornbury, starting for the race,  
Our eager Troops should gallop on apace,  
Not Enemies to wound, but Friends embrace:  
And your slow march should more retarded be  
By crowds, which their Preserver came to see,  
Then Western passages, or fallen rains,  
Or the redoubted Camp on Salisbury Plains.  
His Oratory, where the cause did fail,  
Should over Zeal and Hatred so prevail,  
So Wildness, Rage, and every passion charm,  
That Teague himself would scarce intend you harm.  
Thus would he lead along your peaceful course,  
Not stopped but guarded by our armed Force.   

The War begins not till you come to Town,  
And chiefly there attacks the treacherous Gown.  
Then all his powers had mustered to invade  
Such as their Faith, or Country had betrayed:  
Wem, Sunderland, and Talgol, should have been,  
His Clodius, Antony, and Catalin;  
Those Criminals and Felons of the Bench,  
Who the strong Bars of liberty did wrench,  
With that forged Engine of Dispensing Power,  
(Which, feeding them, did all beside devour)  
He to the Bar of Aeacus would Cite,  
That for themselves, at least, they might have right:  
Or Old Lawgivers Ghosts would make appear,  
To terrify our New Law-sellers here.  
Rattling the Magna Charta, they should come,  
As dreadful as Mompesson's midnight drum.  
Among the Jugglers, struck with that surprise  
Penn should his Hat pull off, and all disguise,  
And quake in earnest, when he saw 'em rise.  
Proud Hales, that Lawful things abhorred so much,  
As to leave Church, and Wife, for being such,  
Pale at the sight, should cry like Balaam's Ass,  
My Obadiah no true Prophet was.  
Where's now the Tower? the Babel we had built,  
To raise our name, and to secure our guilt.  
A noise of Truth, Sense, Justice, fills the Land,  
Strange words our daubers do not understand,  
But sneak away with Trowels in their hand.  
Then regulating Vermin would, like Moles,  
Or timorous Coneys, creep into their holes,  
But should no shelter, or protection find  
Within the Burroughs they had undermined.  
Despair, Amazement, Horror, he would bring,  
Bombs, Furies, Vipers, among Villains fling,  
Their Breasts to tear, and Consciences to sting.  
At Axes, and at Halters, they might smile,  
Whose quick dispatches Justice do beguile,  
But should his Charge, which ever will be read,  
His lashing of their Memory, when dead,  
As an eternal Execution dread.   

And when these wretches had received their doom,  
His Flowers and Ornaments he would resume;  
To you return all pompous, and all gay,  
Who Hydra's, which the Realm envenom, slay;  
He should you term our Hercules, who fight  
With Monsters, and a Juno's deadly spite;  
Who, Atlas being withdrawn, approach the Court,  
Which first a Heaven you make, and then support.  
How would his Genius here, and Skill combine!  
Strong mix with sweet, and forcible with fine;  
The powers of Nature, and the rules of Art,  
Should be employed, and work in every part.  
His Reaches, Figures, Beauties, all come forth,  
To shape an Image which might hold your worth;  
All that is Great, Good, Blessed, Excellent,  
Should in one single Character be spent;  
And melted, like Corinthian metal, take  
The sacred form that would your Statue make.  
Since for our rescue, you did means provide,  
None else could use, durst offer at beside;  
Whatever none could say, or think, but he,  
That, to your Highness, should appropriate be;  
You, the rich Thanks, full Elegy, should have,  
(Who better things, and with more bravery save)  
Which, to himself the grateful Consul gave.  
And when our last acknowledgements were over,  
He would attend you with his Vows to Dover,  
Wishing that France may find you in the end,  
Just such a Foe, as England has a Friend.   

For though you have already more Achieved,  
Than will in after Ages be believed,  
Tho' all admire, some envy, we applaud,  
That Courage which has Rome, and Caesar awed;  
Yet neither you, nor we, can rest content,  
With our own Safety, Ease, and Settlement;  
These goods must scatter like the vital Air,  
And with our Isle, the Continent must share;  
As the World's light from Delos took his birth,  
Then suddenly illustrated the Earth.  
Others to you appeal, your Arms invite,  
In Worthies all the injured have a right.  
For greater things you seem by Heaven designed,  
With that Just, Active, Universal Mind,  
Which thinks nought done, when there is more behind,  
While there are any that oppress Mankind.   

You carry, Sir, a double conquering Name,  
And to each part you owe its proper fame;  
The William has been satisfied, 'tis true,  
Whenas your kind Invasion did subdue;  
But Henry calls your late successful hand  
To plant fresh Laurels on a neighbouring Land;  
And that the Prince may with good Omens march,  
There stands by Orange a triumphal Arch:  
Marius the brave did that erect, and you,  
Both by the Spirit Masculine you show,  
And by your Female half are Marius too.   

Beside, we Bards, the wonder of this Age,  
And you, descry in old poetic rage;  
Behold the labouring Sibyl how she heaves,  
Plucks from a golden bough her sweet green leaves,  
To which she does commit this unripe sense,  
Of a mysterious distant Providence.  
Another young Augustus I espy,  
Arisig from the womb of Destiny;  
In whose triumphant and auspicious Reign  
The great Messiah shall be born again;  
Live he, and truth, for ever then in spite  
Of mitred subtlety and crowned might;  
Though blust'ring Herod, and the cross Highpriest,  
Should, for their ruin, be together pieced;  
But while vain Franchises set them at odds,  
This generous youth shall from their slavish rods  
Set Nations free, and from their knavish gods.   

The Druids too have wrote in fatal Oak,  
Of one should break the European yoke,  
Confine the Lilies that abroad do roam,  
And for their living make 'em spin at home.  
That fatal Oak was split, but since it meets  
Now by conjunction of the D. E. Fleets,  
This Oracle is plain to every sight,  
And Lewis scares, being read in open light,  
As Mene Tekel did Belshazzar fright.   

Nay their Pucelle, and famous Nostradame,  
Have strange inspired Sayings much the same;  
Obscure at first, but late events of time  
Interpret all the ridling of their rhyme.   

When the Welsh Mountains lie-in of a Mouse,  
Which, with old Rats, shall quit the falling House;  
When Albion's Sun arises in the West,  
And Wolves to suckle Romulus are pressed;  
When Pais Bas shall be no longer low,  
When Britain shall be won without a foe,  
Let Gallia then beware a Mortal blow.   

Whenever a Tree, whose fruit the Dragon keeps,  
(And that keeps him from any quiet sleeps)  
Shall to the Wood give wings, and with it fly,  
Where Neptune, that sure Protestant Ally,  
The Union spoils of Cousin L. and J.  
Dragon, look to't, there's something in the wind  
Worse than the Fistula in your Tail behind.   

●● Louis Le Grand, that is the monstrous Cheat,  
Who has so long, so falsely passed for great,  
You must detect, and prove him counterfeit.  
Whose only fight metal is his Gold,  
And Victories, Towns, or Princes basely sold;  
The Hardship, Hazard, Stress of real War,  
Are things he only hears of from afar;  
But if there has been trucking, or the like,  
He comes, his bargain, not his foe to strike.  
Whose faith is fraud, and his most Christian works,  
Advice, and Bribes, and Succour to the Turks:  
Thy Edict, Nants, now Interdict, that shows,  
This the betrayed, attacked Vienna knows.  
He always has pretensions on the weak,  
As bound all Covenants with them to break;  
The Gordian knot of Articles in words,  
If not by tricks untied, is cut by Swords.  
His thoughts are troubled, and his rest does cease,  
While Neighbours quiet, or the World has peace;  
Nor Harp, nor Tabor can remove his fits,  
Then Saul complains in Council as he sits.  
No falsehood? no perfidious part to play?  
No mischief done? Friends, we have lost the day.  
O scandalous! how people live at ease!  
Go, let a Fever upon Europe seize,  
It is the only cure for my disease.  
There let each paroxysm have its turn,  
The Peasant tremble, and the Village burn:  
What an indignity! when I am near,  
For any to be safe, or without fear:  
This horrid insolence I must chastise,  
Wherein the highest provocation lies,  
Who thinks himself secure, does me despise.  
As if the Majesty of Nost' Plaisir  
Could be tied up by Truce till such a year,  
As if I were not able to subvert  
What paltry States and Lordlings make so pert;  
Or else I would not, with fierce Ottoman,  
Render as many wretched as I can:  
When, save myself, 'tis my great bliss and pride  
To see no happy, or proud thing beside,  
The wings we clipped are grown, behold! how soon  
That Eagle mounts, and soars above the Moon;  
Let him be humbled to the state before,  
Until the Crescent has new horns to gore.  
Against the Palatine our Troops employ,  
A petty right, not mine, he does enjoy,  
Nor were it worth the while him to annoy,  
But for that royal pleasure to destroy.  
Then Furstenburg the Traitor, but our Slave,  
Does to weak titles strong protection crave,  
Bid Baviere, Pope, Emperor, begun,  
For those three Kings of Cologne, I'll make one.  
Let Humieres make haste the Dutch to plague,  
And fetch their Hannibal to defend his Hague;  
By Cannons on the Rhine my will rehearse,  
That the confederate Rabble should disperse,  
Tell the old Jethro, that is grown a Child,  
Squabbling for toys, if he'd be reconciled,  
Now is his time, or else to all intents  
He'll find a Herod for the Innocents'.  
The English above all my patience urge,  
Those Heretics with Scorpions I would scourge,  
But, since the Sea won't let me thither skip,  
That, in their stead, like Xerxes, I must whip.  
If there be more, as yet not overrun,  
Let 'em together meet and be undone;  
Defiance we to all at once declare,  
And bait, for pastime, the whole Northern Bear.  
It was too mean to deal in Contributions,  
And little military Executions;  
Banditi, Tory's, Highwaymen live thus,  
There are more stately mischiefs left for us;  
Great and small villainy has a different vogue,  
That constitutes a Lewis, this a Rogue.  
For slighter evils, and for partial woes,  
For piece-meal havoc upon single foes,  
When Countries, Kings, Worlds, should be overthrown,  
Now, by their total ruin, I'll atone;  
Pardon me, Sovereign Honour, that so late  
This Victim to thy Shrine I consecreate.   

So spoke the Lucifer of France, and fell  
With armed Fiends straight to enlarge his hell;  
For thraldom, suffering, want, despair and grief,  
And desolation reign where he is chief.  
From Antichrist let Nero's name be freed,  
Here's an Heroic Beelzebub indeed;  
Who having Cities, Blood, and Treasure wrung,  
Then causes a Se. Deum to be sung:  
Of all destructive Powers, the Earth scarce had one,  
Like this strange King Apollyon and Abaddon.  
New Tyrants lessening still their rights and wealth,  
A Syracusian Dame wished Denys health,  
A Successor more ravenous to prevent,  
But now might save her witty Compliment;  
The present Denys cannot leave a worse,  
T'improve Oppression and the public Curse.  
St. Denys did not supererogate  
So much in works of love, as he of late  
In mortal crimes, and more than mortal hate.  
His needless slaughters, and superfl'ous waist,  
Oaths, Temples, Consciences by him defaced,  
His uncommanded frankness to infest,  
Ills done, no other Satan could suggest,  
With a vast treasure of such vile demerits,  
Might serve to damn an host of blessed spirits.   

Yet for such feats as these his frantic crown,  
Is blown with bubbled thoughts of high renown;  
And all are charged who write his huffing Story,  
To hoop it well, for fear it burst with glory;  
Glory, the La Valiere, that does cajoll,  
And tickle the lewd passions of his Soul;  
That glory you shall make the chastest Nun,  
And veil her from the rapes of this hot Sun.  
If he has Deeds to bring of any sort,  
That ever were enroled in Honour's Court,  
Let him his Proofs allege, his Claims produce,  
His Services attest, and show his Use;  
We'll set the fair Particulars to account,  
See to what sum of glory they amount;  
As yet, he seems to have obliged men,  
As Earthquakes Naples, and Seas Groningen.  
If Glory be a large, illustrious Fame,  
That spreads and recommends a worthy Name,  
For great and numerous obligations laid  
On our own first, thence to the World conveyed;  
Then, Monfieur has not only torn away;  
Your Principality, as lawful prey,  
But robs you too, if glorious he would be,  
Of your best right, and dearest property;  
Though that of your revenue is a part,  
He cannot strain by force, or steal by art,  
Till he can storm the mind, or win the heart.  
All Votes, and Nature's everlasting Laws,  
Have settled his reproach, and your applause.  
A Fortune this you legally inherit  
By ancient Records of your House's merit;  
The Title (and such Titles sure are good)  
Runs from the first conveyance of your blood,  
Which clear, and undisputed still has stood.  
No interruption, failure, crack, or flaw,  
Is in the Line, or Claim of Great Nassaw:  
A Name beloved and reverenced by all,  
Which their delight and blessing men do call;  
Whose Honour to proclaim the World agrees,  
In solemn Judgements, and by firm Decrees:  
A Family our Kings so much respect,  
And which the Royal Virgins so affect,  
That, till their suit is heard, and they obtain,  
All other Prince's court, and sigh in vain:  
Happy Pretenders still, and richly sped,  
With England's Daughters, who the Nation wed;  
Of their repute, of them we are so fond,  
Our hearts are twisted in the Nuptial bond.   

What could be wished a person more to grace,  
Than to be sprung of that Renowned Race?  
And should nought else your Ancestors commend,  
It were enough that you from them descend,  
So each their mutual illustrations lend.  
For to old deeds in former Ages shown,  
You add authentic Ev'dence of your own;  
The sparkling History of your Life is it,  
An instrument so fresh, so fairly writ,  
So well attested to our present sense,  
He must be blind that questions your pretence.  
That glittering of your Predecessors praise,  
The tracks of light which shone about their ways,  
Yield to the rising of your stronger rays.  
Th' entailed estate of glory you derive,  
As yourself grew, prodigiously did thrive;  
And Providence your labour so does bless,  
The heritage, is, than the purchase, less.  
The Bank of fame does with your stock so teem,  
You might, by your sole virtue and esteem,  
The age from Vice and Infamy redeem.   

But though your actions give a real draught,  
Of what before was but described by thought,  
Though fancied excellencies all prove true,  
The Cyrus and the Trajan breath in you;  
Yet when your minds on this dear Object fix,  
Grief does with joy, and pain with pleasure mix;  
For qualities, which should immortal be,  
Lodged in one breast, and mortal that we see:  
Truth, Wisdom, Goodness, with our frailty joined,  
A godlike shape on earthly matter coined;  
These put our twins of passion at a strife,  
Divine perfections, but a humane life:  
We hope, we fear, we are, and are not pleased,  
We have enough, yet the desire not eased:  
From past mishaps, much love and great concern,  
The worst of chance to apprehend, we learn;  
When we count farthest, and the best suppose,  
A coming period, and a final close,  
The present sense of our enjoyments dose.  
'Tis an allay to all the Phrygian joy,  
That Hector only is the prop of Troy.  
When you have spent your glorious days, and lie  
Embalmed in aromatic memory;  
Who shall the Rights of Christendom secure?  
Or make the benefits you leave endure?  
Where's he that can to such a pattern stretch?  
And you to life by imitation fetch?  
That worthiness may not decline, and fall  
From the raised pitch of your Original:  
Heaven did not sure its care and cost bestow,  
In polishing a bright Example so,  
That things, which our capacity transcend,  
Should both begin with you, and have an end:  
As a new Star a while is seen to blaze,  
And then forsake beholders as they gaze.  
These miracles of Nature, and of Grace,  
Were not intended for a little space;  
Short happiness is but a lightsome trance,  
Experiment, without continuance,  
Of bliss itself, does misery enhance.  
But you our appetites have set on edge,  
Not as a taste, but as of more a pledge;  
More like yourself, close causes are agreed  
And, when we little think, the chosen seed  
Invisible posterity does breed.  
The world will want'em, and there must be some,  
(Though Isaac's may be long before they come)  
To take the copy, and to fill your room.  
This is locked up as yet in dark reserve,  
That we such grace may study to deserve;  
As the last favour this, the sole, the great,  
Must your and our felicity complete:  
This we believe, and beg; now faith and prayers,  
(So with the trusting, and devout it fares)  
Are of known virtue for producing Heirs:  
A starry Offspring, that may rise in throngs,  
And happily revenge their Grandsire's wrongs;  
That as you have your Fathers, in a run  
Of Nobleness and Gallantry, out done,  
So you may be, by many and many a Son.   
Page 13. lin. 4. for Whenas read When us.  
FINIS.   

Books Printed for Walter Kettilby, at the Bishop's-Head in St. Paul's Churchyard.  
HEnrici Mori Cantabrigiensis Opera Omnia, tum quae Latinè, tum quoe Anglicè scripta sunt; nunc vero Latinitate Donata, Instigatu & Impensis Generosissimi Juvenis Johannis Kockshuti Nobilis Angli. In three Volumes in Folio.  
Telluris Theoria Sacra: Orbis nostri Originem & Mutationes Generales, quas aut jam subiit, aut olim subiturus est, complectens. Libri duo priores de Diluvio & Paradiso.  
Telluris Theoria Sacra: Orbis nostri Originem & Mutationes Generales, quas aut jam subiit, aut olim subiturus est complectens. Libri duo posteriores de Conflagratione Mundi, & de Futuro Rerum Statu.  
Apocalypsis Apocalypseos; Or the Revelation of St. John the Divine unveiled: containing a brief but perspicuous and continued Exposition from Chapter to Chapter, and from Verse to Verse, of the whole Book of the Apocalypse.  
A plain and continued Exposition of the several Prophecies or Divine Visions of the Prophet Daniel, which have or may concern the People of God, whether Jew or Christian; whereunto is annexed a threefold Appendage, touching three main points, the first relating to Daniel, the other two to the Apocalypse.  
An Answer to several Remarks upon Dr. Henry More his Expositions of the Apocalypse and Daniel? as also upon his Apology: Written by S. E. Mennonite, and published in English by the Answerer: whereunto are annexed two small pieces, Arithmetica Apocalyptica, and Appendicula Apocalyptica. Of all which an account is given in the Preface.  
An Illustration of those two abstruse Books in holy Scripture, the Book of Daniel and the Revelation of S. John; by continued, brief, but clear Notes, from Chapter to Chapter, and from Verse to Verse, with very useful and apposite arguments prefixed to each Chapter, framed out of the Expositions of Dr. H. More.  
Paralipomena Prophetica, several Supplements and Defences of Dr. Henry More his Expositions of the Prophet Daniel and the Apocalypse, Whereunto is added Phililicrines upon R. B. his Notes on the Revelation of St. John.  
Tetractys Anti-Astrologica, or, the four Chapters in the Explanation of the grand Mystery of Godliness, which contain a brief, but solid confutation of Judiciary Astrology, with Annotations upon each Chapter; wherein the wondrous weaknesses of John Butler, B. D. his Answer called a Vindication of Astrology, etc. are laid open to the view of every Intelligent Reader. All six written by the Reverend and Learned Henry More, D. D. since the publication of his Latin Works.  
Dr. Henry More's brief Reply to a late Answer to his Antidote against Idolatry, etc.  
Dr. Falkner's Libertas Ecclesiastica: or a Discourse vindicating the lawfulness of those things, which are chiefly excepted against in the Church of Eng. especially in its Liturgy and Worship, etc.  
— 's Vindication of Liturgies, etc.  
— is Christian Loyalty, etc.  
Jovian, or an Answer to Julian the Apostate.  
Plato's Doemon, or the State-physician unmasked, in Answer to Plato Redivivus, by T. Goddard, Esq  
Ampraldus' Discourse of divine Dreams.  
Some opinions of Mr. Hobbs considered, etc.  
A Dialogue between Philiater and Momus, concerning a scandalous Pamphlet, called the conclave of Physicians.  
The Faith and Practice of a Church of England Man, etc.  
Religion the Perfection of Man.  
Roman Catholics uncertain whether there be any true Priests or Sacraments in the Church of Rome.