FRO M 
 
 THK I.IBRAR.Y 
 OK 
 
 SIR WILLIAM OSLER,Bart. 
 OXFORD 
 
[MERYON (Charles Lewis) 1783-1877.] 
 
 5142. The Origin of Rome and of the 
 Papacy. A Poem, tr. from the Italian of 
 Giovanni Casti, by Deuteros Whistlecraft, 
 Gent. 12°. Lond., n,d. 
 
 I 
 
 The flyleaf of the vol. in which this and nos. 
 5143-6 are bound together (in that order) bears 
 the autograph of C. L. Meryon with the following 
 note : “ These translations from Casti, made by 
 me, will probably be found nowhere else : so my 
 daughter is requested not to lose them.” All the 
 pamphlets, except no. 5145, are signed or initialed 
 on the title-page and all have his MS. corrections. 
 
 These are not mentioned in the D. N. B. among 
 Meryon 's works. He is best known as the phy- 
 sician and biographer of the eccentric Lady Hester 
 Stanhope. _ 
 
 5143. The History of Pope Joan. By 
 Gianbattista Casti. A Poem in 3 cantos . . . 
 Tr. from the Italian by Democritus Ridens. 
 12®. \n.pL, i860.] 
 
 With bibliographical notes. Foot of title-page 
 cut off, and * Privately printed, i860 * substituted 
 in MS. Bd. with no. 5142 (see note). 
 
 5144. Tis all My Eye and Betty Martin, 
 or The Folly of Mens' Pursuits. 12®. n. pi. 
 or d. 
 
 In verse. MS. note : ” by C. L. M. Printed 
 Privately — only Five Copies.’’ Over the head-title 
 the derivation (!) has been added in pencil : ” Oh ! 
 mihi, Beate Martine.” Bd. with no. 5142 (see 
 note) . 
 
 5145. Stanzas on the Turkish Bath, with 
 plain Rules for Cleanliness of the Body, and 
 the Preservation of Health. 2 pts. ... 12®. 
 n. pi. or d. 
 
 Anon. Bd. with no. 5142 (see note). 
 
 5146. Riding Habits, and Habits of Riding ; 
 or. An Enquiry into the most proper Position 
 and the most becoming Dress for Ladies on 
 Horseback. To wh ich is added The Rid ing 
 School ; or. Elementary Instruction in 
 Horsemanship ... By the Chevalier Cali- 
 fourchon. Riding Master at Straddleberg . . . 
 12®. Lond., 1865. 
 
 Illustr. Inserted : MS. anecdotes. 
 
 Bd. with no. 5142 (see note). 
 
 ~ I i| i | || |i Mlllllg 
 
A/.. 
 

THE 
 
 ORIGIN OF ROME 
 
 AND OF 
 
 THE EAEACY. 
 
 a ^oem, 
 
 'translated from the ITALIAN 
 
 I OP 
 
 GIOVANNI CAST!, 
 
 BY 
 
 DEUTER08 WHISTLECRAFT, GENT. 
 

 
 4 » 
 
 LONDON; 
 
 AUSTIN nOLTOAKB, PEINTEB, 147 , FLEET STRB&T, B.r. 
 
 1 
 
 
 
 * I 
 
TO THE READER. 
 
 The works of Giovanni Casti, an author greatly admired by 
 his own countrymen, and very generally read by those among 
 ourselves who are versed in Italian literature, have never yet, 
 with some few exceptions, been rendered into English, as far as 
 the writer of this notice is aware. He has met with only three 
 exceptions ; which are Mr. Wm. Stewart Rose’s meagre version 
 of the Animcdi Parlanti^ published by Murray, in 1819 ; the 
 Oiuli Tre^ or Three Groats^ by M. Montague ; 2nd Ed. ; 
 sold by Henry Starie, 23, Tichborne-street : and one of the 
 Novel le, entitled L'Ossessa^ or Belfagor; sold by the same 
 bookseller. Lastly the Papessa^ or Tale of Pope Joan^ which 
 has, it is said, been printed for private circulation, as not suffi- 
 ciently exempt from those licentious passages which the public 
 here will not tolerate, however common they may be with the 
 novelists of other countries. 
 
 So it is, that the principal objection to Casti’s writings arises 
 from the unambiguous terms which he uses upon all occasions 
 where human frailties, more especially incontinence, are his 
 subjects. To purge them of such impurities would not be diffi- 
 cult ; but then it would be to want in fidelity to the original, 
 and, by yielding to the scrupulous prudery of society, as at 
 present moulded by the cant of the times, to destroy his i^den- 
 tity. This is a species of delicacy which the translator may be 
 pardoned for thinking not a bit more commendable than the 
 affected modesty of a late Pope, who placed fig-leaves on the 
 pudenda of the statues in the galleries of the Vatican, 
 or the recent attempt of a British senator to banish 
 from our academical schools the delineation of the naked model. 
 
 Few persons can pretend to be intimately acquainted with 
 the beauties of expression and style in a language not their own : 
 they ought, therefore, to let tneir judgment be directed by 
 native critics ; upon whose authority, if we take the merits of 
 Casti’s poetry, we are bound to believe that it excels in harmo- 
 nious versification, in his felicitous manner of saying common 
 truisms, in the simplicity yet aptness of his comparisons and 
 illustrations, and in a vein of irony which nowhere cuts very 
 deep, but, like a fly-blow, deteriorates that which it falls on, 
 and ultimately is more destructive than the heavy bruises of 
 the satirist. 
 
 In his descriptions of human actions and events, Casti paints 
 mankind just as he finds it. His intentions, whatever some 
 cavillers may insinuate about his licentiousness, are always 
 praiseworthy. He unmasks hypocrisy ; successfully demolishes 
 the brazen idols of priestcraft ; and pays homage to the con- 
 scientious feelings and ingenuous sentiments which nature has 
 implanted in us. He holds up the glitter and pretensions of 
 pomp and vanity to ridicule, raises a laugh at men’s follies. 
 

 (iv.) 
 
 craves a pardon for their weaknesses, and endeavours to eman- 
 cipate the minds of his fellow creatures from the thraldom of 
 prejudice, superstition, and servitude. 
 
 It is about twenty- eight years ago that a near relation of the 
 translator published a short poem* in the same metrical stanza 
 as that now presented to the reader — a stanza brought into 
 vogue at that date by Lord Byron, who adopted it from the 
 It alics. It is called by them Rime Ottave^ or octave rhymes^ 
 " ^o htme ^cioUe^ or ^oosQ rUyrnes, lends it^lf very 
 
 npeadily to discursive poetry. Some one has thus described it : — 
 
 ** The rima sciolta’s a delightfnl measure, 
 
 Where stanza after stanza finds a place; 
 
 Where common thid^gs, well said, afibrd us pleasure; 
 
 Whilst rhyme on rhyme still stares you in the face. 
 In culling thus Parnassian flowers at leisure, 
 
 You find for every one a vacant space : 
 
 And, if each line is musically drawn, 
 
 _Yqu m ake your verse parterres on ^k wn.” 
 
 Seeing what great success attended the rather whimsical pro- 
 duction of his now deceased relative, the writer was tempted to 
 make an essay of his own poor ability ; but, not venturing on 
 anything original, he selected from Casti’s Novelle the follow- 
 tale. The manuscript has lain by among his papers for 
 twice the period that Horace prescribes. It was during the 
 present remarkable events, which are taking place in Italy, that 
 It occurred to him whether its publication just now, when his 
 Holme^ the Pope is the victim of such unrelenting persecution 
 by the followers of a mad- headed adventurer, might not serve 
 to uphold the triple crown, and bring back its disaffected subjects 
 to a sense of their duty. 
 
 This narrative in verse of the origin of Papal domination 
 can pretend to no other merit than the object which is pro- 
 posed; mid It wdl, beyond a doubt, be welcomed by all good 
 Koman Catholics ^ a timely record of the ancient and sacred 
 foundation on which the Holy Father builds his power, tem- 
 poral ^ well as spiritual. They will learn in it whence are 
 derived the ceremonies and processions of their church, the in- 
 stitutions conventual and monastic, which afford such haonv 
 retreats to pious virgins and youths devoted to celibacy ; bv 
 whose prayers the community at large is led to pay that otedi- 
 8onk*° authority which tends to the salvation of their 
 
 The ^m is dedicated by Casti to the ladies : it is, therefore, 
 particularly recommended to the fair sex, whose reverence fdJ- 
 priestly guidance so often leads them to the confessional. 
 Dboteeos Whistlecbapt. 
 
 * By Nahum Whistlecraft: 8vo. London; 1834. 
 
 
THE 
 
 ORIGIN OF ROME. 
 
 t 
 
 CANTO THE FIRST. 
 
 If I thy aid invoke, my plaj^ful muse, 
 
 The Origin of Rome to celebrate. 
 
 Fear not I mean thy goodness to abuse, 
 
 Or load thy shoulders with a heavy weight. 
 ’Tis not thy lyre heroic thou must use ; 
 
 No laurel wreath thy brow must decorate ; 
 Thy style facetious, ^luse, alone preserve, 
 
 Thy cheerful seng, and thy accustomed verve. 
 
 II. 
 
 No daring pinions flap against my side, 
 
 O’er Helicon to wing my lofty flight ; 
 
 My lips have drunk not the Castalian tide. 
 
 To sing of heroes, and their deeds recite. 
 
 Mars is my theme— not he who’s deified, 
 
 With shield and spear, and deck’d with trophies bright ; 
 But one, with love who could a vestal fire. 
 
 And was of Romulus and Remus sire. 
 
 III. 
 
 Apollo ! thou, to whose immortal touch 
 The Greek and Latin bards attuned their strain. 
 
 E’en if thou wouldst inflate my lungs as much, 
 
 I should refuse thy succour with disdain. 
 
 I’ll call thee if there’s need — my fancy’s such 
 
 To-day a humbler god inspires my brain ; 
 
 So, chaste Apollo, lay thy lyre aside. 
 
 And with the Muses quietly abide. 
 
 IV. 
 
 Yes, laughing Momus, thee I now invoke, 
 The constant foe of lies and false pretence ; 
 Who canst combine with seriousness a joke. 
 And airflst thy blows at knavery, not sense. 
 One puff of thine dispels the boaster’s smoke. 
 And oft to fickle minds gives confidence. 
 Thy ridicule, on salient folly thrown. 
 
 Some men as useful, all amusing own. 
 
y . 
 
 Most famous cities hare contrived to ^“5 . . 
 
 Some glorious founder, or some great beginning, 
 And, in the ears ol credulous mankind. 
 
 Their origin divine are always nnging. 
 
 Here ’twas a lyre made brick and mortar bind, 
 
 And walls arose unto a minstrel s singing. 
 
 There dragon’s teeth were sown in furrows charmed. 
 And up sprung Thebes’s burghers ready armed. 
 
 VI. 
 
 When Troy was unprotected and unwalled, 
 
 *Twas Hercules who built its bulwarks high ; 
 
 Pallas the olive into being called, 
 
 When she and Neptune strove for victory : 
 
 And Athens, as her favourite town installed. 
 
 Enjoyed her name and gained celebrity ; 
 
 And from beginnings, more or less the same, 
 
 Sparta, Mycene, Corinth, Argos, came. 
 
 VII. 
 
 Rome, mighty Rome ! whose name, august and dread. 
 With splendid recollections fills the mind 
 Rome ! of the world the mistress and the head, 
 
 Whose fame leaves other cities far behind — 
 
 The dark obscurity, by ages spread 
 Upon thy origin, ’tis now designed 
 To clear away, as far as we are able. 
 
 And substitute reality for fable. 
 
 VIII. 
 
 That both iEneas, and Antenor were 
 Betrayers of their native city, Troy, 
 
 Is an inquiry I my readers spare. 
 
 And which would less amuse them than annoy. 
 Each man his notions, as he will, may square^ 
 Devouring ages everything destroy. 
 
 For poets fabricate the strangest lies. 
 
 And simple facts in fancy’s dress disguise. 
 
 IX. 
 
 Freebooters then their native cities left. 
 
 Heroes, no better than an errant knight. 
 
 Some Argonaut — for rapine, or for theft. 
 
 Set forth with desperate gangs, and put to flight 
 The peaceful citizen, of home bereft. 
 
 Founding new states, and using force for right. 
 As we have seen in modern countries done 
 By Turk and Tartar, Saracen and Hun. 
 
X. 
 
 And in those epochs, barbarous and rude, 
 
 The people, brutal and uncivilised. 
 
 Who by some powerful neighbours were subdued, 
 And saw their flocks and pastures sacrificed, 
 
 PI nder and rapine in their turn pursued, 
 
 And with incursions other states surprised. 
 
 And thus the weakest from the strongest got 
 In every case a homogeneous lot. 
 
 XI. 
 
 Domains, in narrow limits comprehended. 
 
 Appeared the conquests of an Alexander. 
 
 Thus, when the famous ten years* siege was ended. 
 The pious Trojan left the stream Scamander, 
 
 And found a petty king, whose realm extended 
 Over a score of acres — poor Evander. 
 
 And his successors, from Ascanius Julius, 
 
 Were poor as he, until we reach Amulius. 
 
 XII. 
 
 After Ascanius, Alba had for kings 
 Sylvius, iEneas Sylvius, and Latinus ; 
 
 Then Alba, Atys, Capys — and this brings 
 Capetus next — then follow Tiberinus 
 (From whom the name of Tiber’s river springs), 
 Agrippa, Romulus, and Aventinus 
 (Interred upon a hill, which thence obtained 
 The name of Aventine.) Next Procas reigned. (‘) 
 
 XIII. 
 
 His son, named Numitor, succeeded next ; 
 
 A brother’s treason drove him from the throne. 
 Amulius in his place himself erects. 
 
 And, as no laws usurpers ever own. 
 
 When Titus Livy names him in his text 
 (A Paduan writer to my readers known). 
 
 He says Amulius all his nephews slew. 
 
 As, in such cases, tyrants always do. 
 
 XIV. 
 
 To end the race of Numitor, the stern 
 Amulius most nefarious means employed. 
 
 He made his brother’s daughter vestal turn. 
 
 And thus all chance of progeny destroyed. 
 
 Her name was Ilia Rhea ; and we learn 
 Sylvia was that her family enjoyed. 
 
 For, born in woods, Ascanius took the name 
 Of Sylvius, and his race preferred the same. 
 
XV. 
 
 W hen by her uncle, the usurping king, 
 
 Fair Sylvia, for a vestal was designed. 
 
 In her fourth lustre she was entering : 
 
 Her face and looks, such beauties rare combined. 
 That from some deity she setnned to spring. 
 
 Her voice was harmony : in air refined 
 O’er all her mien such dignity was poured, 
 
 That those who saw her loved her and adored. 
 
 XVI. 
 
 But Sylvia was a damsel never made 
 Either to live a virgin or a nun. 
 
 Among her suitors, constant court who paid, 
 
 A gallant knight her preference had won. 
 
 And as her friends her plan of schooling laid 
 Quite on the model of a royal one, 
 
 I piously believe ’twas only when 
 
 She vestal turned, that she turned maid again. 
 
 XVII. 
 
 When Sylvia saw, irrevocably sealed 
 Her doom, she made no womanish laments, 
 
 But an undaunted character revealed ; 
 
 Resolved to overturn, at all events 
 (Spite of the dangers such a course concealed). 
 
 The bloody tyrant’s barbarous intents. 
 
 When women, such as Sylvia, have a plan 
 To execute, then baulk them, if you can. 
 
 XVIII. 
 
 The day on which to Vesta she was vowed. 
 
 And to the temple through the streets was led. 
 She saw Orontes standing in the crowd 
 (The youth for whom ner tender bosom bled) ; 
 There passed a sign between them, dumb not loud, 
 And in each other’s eyes their love was read. 
 The eyes sometimes the passions which we feel 
 With stronger language than the tongue reveal. 
 
 XIX. 
 
 But, in my sto^ nothing to omit, 
 
 I must premise th’ Etrurians ever were 
 Renowned for talents, ladies, and for wit : 
 
 As certain proof and testimony bear 
 Their monuments, and annals ably wTit. 
 
 From motives good, of which I’m not aware, 
 Timon of Greece was settled there for life, 
 
 And had a son by an Etrurian wife. 
 
XX. 
 
 This was Orontes, who possessed a store 
 Of virtues, fit to gain a woman’s heart. 
 
 And as a touch will from the brazen bore 
 Cause igneous flashes instantly to part, 
 
 So, touch the spring in him, and forth would pour 
 Flashes of talent from his head and heart. 
 Mechanics, optics, alchemy he knew, 
 
 Which Timon taught him e’er a man he grew. 
 
 xxr. 
 
 These things, in Latiura then not known the least, 
 Timon, a sojourner in Egypt, learned 
 From one who, as philosopher and priest. 
 
 His science to imposture’s purpose turned. 
 
 So much in Memphis every day increased 
 The reputation which this priest had earned. 
 That Timon by his father, whilst a lad. 
 
 Was thither sent, and there instruction had. 
 
 XXII. 
 
 These useful sciences, by travel taught. 
 
 Which in those distant ages ranked so high. 
 
 And which the superstitious people thought 
 The work of magic or the deity, 
 
 Seemed to Orontes means, if fitly wrought, 
 
 To bring his projects to maturity, 
 
 Which secretly he studied to devise. 
 
 Aiding his Sylvia in love’s enterprise. 
 
 XXIII. 
 
 Sacred to Vesta was the holy site, 
 
 Where spotless virgins ever watchful wait 
 To keep a pure and never-dying light ; 
 
 That augured good or evil to the state, 
 
 According as its flame burned dull or bright. 
 
 The maid, that guilty proved within that gate • 
 Of sacrilegious incest, though presumed 
 On mere suspicion, was alive entombed. 
 
 XXIV. 
 
 The priest alone had ingress to the place, 
 
 With honours great distinguished for his zeal 
 {Not in his heart, but in his speech and face), 
 
 ’Twas his employ heaven’s orders to reveal : 
 
 And mortal destinies, in every case 
 Hid under Fate’s impenetrable seal. 
 
 He gravely to the people manifested. 
 
 And taught how Vesta’s ire should be arrested. 
 
XXT. 
 
 Of all this poor devoted virgin train 
 
 At once the guardian, judge, and censor too, 
 
 He with severest rigour would arraign 
 Their peccadillos, whether false or true.( } 
 Infractions slight could no forgiveness gain, 
 
 Unless in things himself was privy to : 
 
 But when the judge was partner in the tault. 
 
 Then absolution never seemed to halt.( ) 
 
 XXVI. 
 
 And thus this venerable place supplied 
 An ample field to give their malice vent, 
 
 To gratify in wickedness and pride 
 
 Their stifled passions to the full extent. 
 
 Augurs and flamens, and a host beside 
 
 'Who by the name of priests in common went. 
 Thus kept these simple maidens in submission 
 Beneath the leaden yoke of superstition. 
 
 Xxvii. 
 
 No sooner Sylvia by her vows was bound 
 Among the Vestal sisterhood to dwell. 
 
 Than night and day Orontes prowled around 
 The building, seeking where to find her cell. 
 
 Just as the wolf will near the fold be found 
 Where bleating lamb he hears, or tinkling bell. 
 Whilst Sylvia, anxious for revenge, no less 
 Kept watch, a prey to musing restlessness. 
 
 XXVIII. 
 
 The temple’s gloomy basement walls he tried ; 
 
 Its arcnes hidden, and now long unknown — 
 
 If entrance there perchance might be descried ; 
 
 Forgotten passages, or doors o’erp*own. 
 
 Or subterranean caves that ruins hide, 
 
 And with the edifice connection own. 
 
 Seek and you’ll find. — So well his search succeeded. 
 He hit upon the very thing he needed. 
 
 XXIX. 
 
 A ruined aqueduct, with ivy crowned, 
 
 Of ancient date, which from a neighbouring hill 
 Bore water to the temple underground. 
 
 And went beyond a public fount to fill ; 
 
 But now was standing half, and half a mound, 
 Sylvia, who laboured with no less good will. 
 Discovered first, and thought Orontes could, 
 
 If clever, make therein his entrance good. 
 
XXX. 
 
 Forthwith she writes a billet to her lover 
 “ To seek the hill — amidst some stunted trees 
 “ A ruined aqueduct he would discover — 
 
 “ Fearless to enter on his hands and knees, 
 
 ** If he his wretched Sylvia would recover, — 
 
 “ As by that aqueduct he could with ease 
 “ Beneath the temple find an issue straight, 
 
 “Where she his coming faithfully would wait.” 
 
 XXXI. 
 
 She folds her letter with the greatest care. 
 
 And near a casement takes her usual seat. 
 
 Where oft he lingered near with sorrowing air ; 
 
 And, when he passed, she dropped it at his feet, 
 To make him of her purposes aware. 
 
 Breathless he forward springs, with action fleet, 
 To snatch it up, just as a cat will spring 
 If on the ground you throw her anything. 
 
 xxxii. 
 
 Orontes hastens to peruse the letter. 
 
 His anxious bosom throbbing with delight ; 
 
 And though she intimated he had better 
 Defer its execution till the night. 
 
 His mind’s impatience no delay can fetter : 
 
 And swiftly disappearing from her sight, 
 
 He searches o’er the ruined heaps that till 
 The space between the temple and the hill. 
 
 XXXIll. 
 
 Above the level of a barren field 
 
 He marks a mound of stoney fragments lie, 
 
 W ith fig-tree stumps and brambles thick concealed : 
 Then broken walls he sees approaching uigh. 
 
 The stones and brambles to his efforts yield. 
 
 And in the wall appears a cavity. 
 
 The youth exerts his strength with double vigour, 
 And soon the narrow orifice grows bigger. 
 
 XXXIV. 
 
 Orontes in the fissure thrusts his face. 
 
 And finds within an arch of channeled stone. 
 
 Of some old aqueduct the broken trace ; — 
 Abandoned, rubbishy, and quite unknown. 
 Remote and solitary was the place. — 
 
 Sufficient for his purpose now was shown. 
 Orontes home with satisfaction hies. 
 
 To execute next night his enterprise. 
 
XXXV. 
 
 Next day when Phoebus had retired to rest. 
 Bearing a pickaxe to break down the wall, 
 
 And armed with leathern helm and leathern vest 
 (As some defence whatever might befall. 
 
 Should reptiles venemous his course infest, 
 
 Forced through such narrow passages to cra^vl), 
 To guard himself from brambles and from stakes, 
 And from the bite of scorpions and of snakes. 
 
 XXXVI. 
 
 On to the ruin, like a pioneer. 
 
 He marches, and the tangled brambles lops. 
 
 First with his knife ; then with his axe makes clear 
 The rubbish that the conduit’s entrance stops, 
 lie then puts on his gloves of mail for fear 
 Of scratching, as he crawls, his finger tops. 
 
 Over his knees strong leathern caps he ties, 
 
 And lets his vizor down to save his eyes. 
 
 XXXVII. 
 
 His body first he through the fissure strains. 
 
 And at his length along the conduit lay ; — 
 Sounds with the pick-axe, as advance he gains ; 
 
 And, if he feels a serpent in his way, 
 
 He cuts his head off, or knocks out his brains. 
 
 No reptile can his hand destructive stay — 
 Lizards and vipers manifest submission. 
 
 And fled his coming with all expedition. 
 
 XXXVIII. 
 
 For love how many shapes Jove deigned to take ! 
 
 For love Alcides was with toils opprest. 
 
 Orpheus for love crossed o’er the Stygian lake. 
 
 And with his lyre set Cerberus to rest, 
 
 Yet left his wife behind by some mistake. 
 
 Thus like a reptile, on all fours, in quest 
 Of her he loved, Orontes dared to try 
 To rescue Sylvia by his bravery. 
 
 XXXIX. 
 
 'Tis pity, e’er the times of which we write, 
 
 That Cadmus was transmuted to a snake : 
 
 For, had the change n6t happened, then by right, 
 Orontes might that signal honour take. 
 
 But now it was no more a freak to cite. 
 
 No more a metamorphosis to make : 
 
 For when the reptile’s part was once essayed, 
 
 Tlie trick was stale, nor could again be played* 
 
XL. 
 
 So, crawling on, he thought he could discern 
 The outlet of the passage, and the rays 
 Of a small light, that seemed far off to burn ; 
 
 Which served his almost sinking strength to raise. 
 Thus, risking suffocation at each turn. 
 
 At last he comes where anxious Sylvia stays : 
 
 As came Leander swimming o’er the tide. 
 
 When Hero lit her lamp his course to guide. 
 
 XLI. 
 
 No sooner had the first surprise expired 
 At meeting thus in such a gloomy cell, 
 
 The handsome pair, with mutual passion fired, 
 
 Felt in their bosoms mutual transports swell : 
 
 And eager in that enterprise conspired 
 At once so famous and remarkable. 
 
 That Rome may trace hbr grandeur from the spot 
 Where Sylvia and Orontes now were got. 
 
 XLII. 
 
 In action, feeling, sentiment, or thought, 
 
 Sylvia and he were of no common cast. 
 
 And things that were in their conjunction wrought, 
 
 In all its stages middle, first and last, 
 
 With portents big set vulgar souls at nought ; 
 
 And so no questions ask on all that passed. 
 
 What with expressions fit we can’t relate. 
 
 With awe mysterious we must venerate. 
 
 • XLIII. 
 
 For this immortal deed might, at the time 
 When by the lovers done, and at first sight. 
 
 Appear a great and sacrilegious crime : 
 
 But should be named, if designated right, 
 
 The corner-stone on which the mass sublime 
 Of Rome’s vast empire reached it’s monstrous height. 
 Besides, with reason, Sylvia I should call 
 Of all our nuns the stern original. (^) 
 
 XLIV. 
 
 But whilst the warrior and his beauteous mate 
 In tender intercourse the hours consume, 
 
 A germ from this their commerce took its date, 
 
 Not idly dropped in Sylvia’s fertile womb. 
 
 This was the embryo of the Roman state ; 
 
 Thence sprung the power which haughty Popes assume. 
 As acorns small in little space comprise 
 Oaks that in time spread branches to the skies. 
 
XLV. 
 
 When Sylvia and Orontes had completed 
 This very weighty wonderful concern ; 
 
 Home to his household gods the youth retreated 
 The way that brought him serving to return. 
 
 And oftentimes his visits he repeated, 
 
 When use the track had made him better learn : 
 
 Until there rose upon the maiden’s shape 
 Signs, which the eye no longer could escape. 
 
 XL VI. 
 
 And, recollect, the matter was no joke 
 Within a vault alive to be entombed ; 
 
 For harsh and cruel priests, such scenes to cloak. 
 
 To certain death their feeble victims doomed. 
 
 So might have been, by one unlucky stroke, 
 
 Rome and its forum, yet unborn, inhumed, 
 
 With Popes and Emperors, not then begotten, 
 
 That since were born, have reigned, and now are rotten. 
 
 XL VII. 
 
 On all accounts, however, ’twas required 
 That some expedient should forthwith be found 
 (And found too ere her pregnancy transpired) ; 
 
 For Sylvia’s size was daily gaining ground. 
 
 What if the president the cause inquired ? 
 
 How could the flamen’s eyes be longer bound ? 
 
 [For flamen then, and female president. 
 
 The same as bishop and as abbess meant.] 
 
 XL VIII. 
 
 So both, without the least precipitation. 
 
 But from reflection slow, like persons bent 
 To take a prudent sage determination. 
 
 Together schemed in this predicament 
 How best to save her life and reputation, 
 
 Or fearless perish in th’ experiment. 
 
 For when the mind in some pursuit is warm. 
 
 Necessity will miracles perform. 
 
 XLIX. 
 
 One day Orontes said — “ Do’st thou not know 
 “ That those who well employ religious craft, 
 
 “No matter what strange lengths their mummeries go, 
 “ Can always meet with feeble minds to graft 
 “ Their cunning on “ And need’st thou tell me so ?” 
 Sylvia replied, “who drink the bitter draught 
 “ Of self-experience, as a vestal virgin, 
 
 “ And feel the fatal truth of what you’re urging. 
 
L. 
 
 “And hast thou not” (resumed the youth) “perceived— 
 “ I know thou hast, for ’tis the common way— 
 
 “ That deeds, the foulest villain e’er achieved, 
 
 “ As just and holy priestcraft will display, 
 
 “ If but the author is a god believed ?” — 
 
 “ I grant the premises are true : but say,” 
 
 Cries Sylvia, “ wherefore this preamble use ?”— 
 
 When thus Orontes bis discourse pursues. 
 
 LI. 
 
 *4 Qo !— tell the flamen and the prioress— 
 
 “ The God, beneath whose banner warriors fight, 
 
 To whom their spoils and trophies they address, 
 
 “ In all his glory lay with thee one night. 
 
 “ Tell them thy offspring’s destined to possess 
 “ His father’s intrepidity and might ; 
 
 “ And when his great career shall be completed, 
 
 “ Among the gods immortal to be seated.” 
 
 LII. 
 
 Sylvia was half astounded at his speech. 
 
 “ I grant,” says she, “ ’tis easy to aver 
 “ That I by Mars am big ; but can you teach 
 “ To whom I may as witnesses refer ? 
 
 “ To what can proofs in such a matter reach ? 
 
 “ Or what can credibility confer ?’’ 
 
 “ Yes ! thou the spouse of Mars shalt be,” he cries, 
 
 “ If thou wilt only act as I advise.” 
 
 LIII. 
 
 “ Proofs will I furnish thee, of such a kind 
 “ As shall the most incredulous persuade : 
 
 “ A figure shall they see, so well designed 
 
 “ To make them think ’tis Mars himself pourtrayed. 
 “ Nay, our imposture e’en the priest shall find 
 “ Fit stuff to work on in their cheating trade. 
 
 “ The part thou hast to play I must explain^^ 
 
 “ ^Vhen thou and I, my Sylvia, meet again.” 
 
 LIV. 
 
 Sylvia espoused his stratagem with zeal. 
 
 Orontes bad adieu.— The following eve, 
 
 Conscious his measures sure results reveal, 
 
 He seeks the aqueduct, with helm and greave 
 No more of leather, but of polished steel ; 
 
 And lets no mortal soul his steps perceive. 
 
 Covered he was all o’er with armour bright. 
 
 Like one who sallies forth in war to fight. 
 
u 
 
 LV. 
 
 The aqueduct he entered ; and attained 
 The place, where she his looked-for step expects, 
 Then through the vaults, the temple which sustained, 
 Where eye no mortal vestiges detects, 
 
 (A death-like silence, whilst they both maintained), 
 Her lover’s steps the vestal maid directs ; 
 
 As erst, the sorceress, Cumoean led 
 Eneas through the region of the dead. 
 
 LVI. 
 
 From part of this prodigious pile project 
 Arches, which through dark aisles in order ran : 
 
 A work, that looking on, you might suspect 
 Coeval with the world ; and doubt if man. 
 
 Or nature’s self, had been the architect. 
 
 Xo foot had dared investigate the plan. 
 
 Orontes traversed them with measured pace. 
 
 Until he grew familiar with the place. 
 
 LVII. 
 
 He then committed to the Vestal’s hands 
 Some small cartouches, made of Grecian pitch. 
 
 To use (and so she did) as he commands. 
 
 A little box he next consigned her, which 
 Contained small tubes of glass ; from these expands 
 A flame, if broken with a sudden twitch. 
 Whereby the powder instantly ignites ; 
 
 And thus resembles meteoric lights. 
 
 A^ having tried for Sylvia’s information 
 Before her face experiments not few. 
 
 To show the manner of the preparation. 
 
 He then described the plan he should pursue • 
 And indicated, in co-operation, * 
 
 What words and things she ought to say and do, 
 And when he ttiought she knew her lesson well, 
 bhe, unobserved, returned unto her cell 
 
 mx. 
 
 ® sept most hallowed of the fane, 
 AVatching the sacred flame that never dies. 
 Those, whom the vestal laws awake retain. 
 
 Soon h^r a hollow noise, that seems to rise 
 trom underground, like swords that clashed amain 
 As when in battle bloody conflicts ri^ 
 
 This was Oront^, who, below concealed. 
 
 His naked sword was striking on his shield. 
 
LX. 
 
 With awe and fear the restal virgins shook, 
 
 At such a horrid and unusual sound ; 
 
 Some to their cells their trembling steps betook, 
 
 And praying, some fell prostrate on the ground, 
 
 Begging the goddess on her maids would look, 
 
 And condescend her wishes to expound, 
 
 And tell what these mysterious warnings meant 
 That they might pacify her discontent. 
 
 LXI. 
 
 Meantime (and this unusual apparition 
 Produces greater terror than before) 
 
 They, through the window, made in the partition 
 From Sylvia’s cell upon the corridor, 
 
 Sfiw bursting forth bright flashes of ignition. 
 
 The abbess hastes the reason to explore ; 
 
 And, with anxiety and fear desires 
 To know the meaning of these vivid fires. 
 
 LXll. 
 
 With look at once both earnest and sedate, 
 
 Sylvia replies, “ Most venerable maid ! 
 
 Attend, whilst I heaven’s secret will relate 
 “Without disguise, as ’twas to me conveyed. 
 
 “ Yes, listen to thy handmaid’s wondrous fate ! 
 
 “ ’Tis true, the flames which through my casement played 
 “ And which thou saw’st, were lighted near this bed, 
 
 “ And from my cell were through the building spread. 
 
 LXIU. 
 
 “ One day, whilst on my orisons intent, 
 
 “ In flesh and blood !Mars stood before my eyes, 
 
 “ But that a god a mortal should frequent, 
 
 “ Created in my timid breast surprise. 
 
 “ To calm my foolish doubts, he gave consent, 
 
 “To show himself in that immortal guise 
 “ The gods assume — and here just now he stayed 
 •“ In all his glorious majesty arrayed. 
 
 LXIV. 
 
 “ Great and portentous matters he revealed ; 
 
 “ But what they were ’tis useless to demand, 
 
 “ Because my lips are by his order sealed. 
 
 “ He bad me only give you this command — 
 
 “ Within the caves, beneath this fane concealed, 
 
 “When night her shades to-morrow shall expand, 
 
 “ You, the arch-flamen, and myself our station 
 “ Must take, to hear his sacred revelation.” 
 
LXV. 
 
 Struck with her solemn and mysterious tone, 
 
 The abbess goes, and to the llamen states, 
 
 The following day, what she had seen and known, 
 And on the strange phenomenon dilates. 
 
 The tlamen, in a great dilemma thrown. 
 
 At night on Sylvia with the abbess waits ; 
 
 And both, by Sylvia to the cavern led. 
 
 Descend to see if that was true she said. 
 
 LX VI. 
 
 The night before, when all the bustle ceased, 
 Orontes left those dark abodes more gay. 
 
 And felt his inward confidence increased, 
 
 His bold designs with courage to display. 
 
 He saw that superstition was a beast, 
 
 Which to his own advantage he might sway ; 
 And, furnished with each useful implement. 
 
 Next night he to the usual entrance went. 
 
 Lxvn. 
 
 Fusees he had, which suddenly ignite ; 
 
 And in a moment (as I said before) 
 
 Could, through the building, spread a flash of light; 
 
 A magic lantern, and a horn he bore. 
 
 And previous to the appointed hour that night, 
 
 He scrambled through the aqueduct once more. 
 Then in the subterranean caves he halts. 
 
 Hid by the massive piers and gloomy vaults. 
 
 LXVIII. 
 
 Soon as the abbess, priest, and nun, were seen — 
 Behold a spectre from afar appear. 
 
 Small at the first, and with a warrior’s mien, 
 
 Which grows gigantic as it comes more near. 
 
 His helm and shield illumine “all the scene. 
 
 With gleams of light inspiring awe and fear. 
 
 His sword, two bladed, in his hands he wields. 
 Which every step a flash of lightning yields. 
 
 LXIX. 
 
 His eyes effulgent sparks of fire emit ; 
 
 He shakes his head and makes his plumage nod. 
 And with his splendour fills the vaulted pit. 
 
 The priest and nuns fall prostrate to the god. 
 
 He stops, and stamps — recedes a little bit— 
 
 Lessens, and walks as though the air he trod. 
 
 And now he seems to go— now seems to stay— 
 Becomes a point — then vanishes away. 
 
LXX. 
 
 The priest and abbess fall upon the floor, 
 
 Their bosoms beat, their knees together knock. 
 
 And sweat profuse exudes from every pore. 
 
 E’en so profound’s their terror from the shock. 
 
 They seem like persons sunk to rise no more. 
 
 Whilst Sylvia, careful lest they see her mock 
 Their terrors vain, is overjoyed that thus 
 Their schemes and wishes turn out prosperous. 
 
 LXXI. 
 
 That, which in Vesta’s temple caused such dread. 
 
 In Paris once I saw exposed to view : 
 
 Where, for the matter of three francs a-head. 
 Phantasmagoric shades from Styx they drew. 
 
 The vulgar look at what’s exhibited, 
 
 And think the thing with magic has to do : 
 
 When ’tis a painted glass, a lens, a focus. 
 
 With rays refracted, make this hocus-pocus. 
 
 LX XII. 
 
 At length, recovering from their swoon, they cry 
 
 “ Great god of war ! whose wrath spreads terror round 
 “ O’er sea and land : oh ! speak that we may fly 
 “ To execute thy will, as we are bound.” 
 
 At this a voice they hear, as in reply. 
 
 With deep and hollow tones from underground, 
 
 And through the cavern bellowing echoes rose. 
 
 As when a conch marine a triton blows. 
 
 LXXlll. 
 
 This was Orontes, who the horn had blown. 
 
 There carried previously with that intent. 
 
 And through the vaulted edifice had thrown. 
 
 From arch to arch, a sound that echoing went, 
 
 As loud as was the centaur’s dying groan. 
 
 When through his back a spear Alcides sent : 
 
 Loud as the Minotaur’s, who howled with pain 
 When in his labyrinth by Theseus slain. 
 
 LXXIV. 
 
 A voice articulate the roar succeeds. — 
 
 “ Let this, my solemn will, no mortal scorn ! 
 
 “ Sylvia’s my spouse ; who in her bosom breeds 
 “ The germ of mighty heroes, yet unborn. 
 
 “ Nations remote shall tremble at their deeds ; 
 
 “ And splendid triumphs shall their arms adorn. 
 
 “ In her the chosen spouse of Mars admire, 
 
 “ And woe to him who farther would inquire.” 
 

 LXXV. 
 
 A mail, not meaning to speak oracles, 
 
 May find by accident his words come true. 
 Unknowing thus the truth Orontes tells, 
 
 The'flamen closer to the abbess drew. 
 
 And whispering said — “Why, sister, all this smells 
 “ Of some deflowering business. What think you ? 
 “ Heard you the strange antithesis he chaunted ? 
 
 “ Perhaps e’en now the vine’s already planted.” 
 
 LXXVI. 
 
 And though, from all he just had seen and heard, 
 
 His blood from fear had ceased to circulate. 
 
 The daring priest must needs put in his word 
 (Because he styled himself heaven’s delegate) ; 
 
 And to a god, who said he had preferred 
 A vestal virgin for his consort, state 
 That, urged by zeal, he must express dissent. 
 
 From causes known and just impediment. 
 
 LXXVII. 
 
 “ Most potent Mars, more feared than earthquake is, 
 “More terrible than is the pestilence !” 
 
 He cries, “ Art thou then ignorant of this ? 
 
 “ Sylvia has made her vows of continence 
 “ To the great goddess Vesta’s mysteries. 
 
 “ Who with such sacred vows shall dare dispense ? 
 
 “ Thy will august, great Mars, adore I must — 
 
 “ But how wilt thou this knotty point adjust?” 
 
 LXXVIII. 
 
 Again a voice came issuing from the caves 
 
 “ Presumptuous man ! in all your judgments vain ; 
 
 “ Of vows and oaths though mortals are the slaves, 
 
 ** Think not that they divinity restrain — 
 
 ** nothing, but its value saves, 
 
 c.t:. foulest stain.— 
 
 hor Pallas from his head the Thunderer bore 
 “ And yet as sound his brain is as before.” ’ 
 
 r.xxix. 
 
 open-mouthed his words received, 
 A himself confounded • 
 
 And both the prioress and he believed 
 
 gibberish sounded) 
 
 That, like Jove s noddle, vestal wombs conceived. 
 And m some property distinct abounded : 
 bo that, when gods had put the foetus in. 
 
 They e’en were virgins after lying in. 
 
LXXX. 
 
 Then they recalled the goddess Juno’s case, 
 
 Who had the power and skill to do the same. 
 For Flora taught her, without Jove’s embrace, 
 
 To squat upon a flower of unknown name. 
 
 The germ was sown, I can’t say in what place. 
 And Mars was born with nobody to blame. 
 
 For Nature’s laws, if deities so will, 
 
 Loose their effect, and stand entirely still. 
 
 LXXXI. 
 
 When empty terrors, or a strange tradition. 
 
 Have set their weight upon the human mind. 
 Loaded with dull habitual superstition. 
 
 In every thing a mystery ’twill find. 
 
 Reason, no longer pilot, yields submission. 
 
 And visions vain man’s better judgment blind; 
 Thus errors gross, for want of penetration. 
 
 Become the objects of his veneration. 
 
 LXXXII. 
 
 With inward musing and excess of thought. 
 
 At this strange apparition, quite oppressed, 
 
 The flamen and the abbess Sylvia brought 
 Back to the convent, honoured and caressed. 
 
 A separate room was giv’n her, nor was aught 
 Omitted, that might please their favoured guest. 
 But neither pried how she her time employed; 
 
 For Mars had said she must not be annoyed. 
 
 LXXXIII. 
 
 And well the legend old they recollected, 
 
 When he and Venus had an assignation. 
 
 How Vulcan’s jealousy the pair detected. 
 
 And caught them in an awkward situation. 
 Electrion’s fate perhaps they both expected. 
 
 Who, as Love’s sentry set, upon his station 
 Fell fast asleep, which cost him very dear ; 
 
 For Mars transformed him to a chanticleer. 
 
 LXXXIV. 
 
 And oh ! on what uncertain grounds are built 
 Man’s foolish counsels I — Sylvia’s pregnancy. 
 Which should have been an evidence of guilt, 
 
 And brought her by a cruel death to die. 
 
 Exalts her now on honour’s highest stilt. 
 
 And makes her reckoned a divinity : 
 
 Nay more, affords her a pretext and cover 
 To ofl’ner see her deified young lover, 
 c 
 
LXXXV. 
 
 The abbess sometimes testified her wonder 
 
 How Sylvia’s mortal frame withstood the flashes 
 Of Mars’s glory ; since, by such a blunder, 
 
 Said sbe, poor Semele was burnt to ashes. 
 
 Consumed by Jupiter’s destructive thunder. 
 
 And then . . . • she added— but the flamen quashes 
 Her doubts ; and all her queries, with the knowledge he 
 Possessed, he solved by orthodox theology. 
 
 LXXXVI. 
 
 “ If in the marvellous you like to rove, 
 
 “ Peruse our sacred history,” said he, 
 
 “ Sylvia from Mars, and Semele from Jove, 
 
 “ Demanded proofs of their divinity. 
 
 “Vain glory both to risk their being drove : 
 
 “ But, though these gods in all their majesty 
 “Appeared to both their ladies, the event 
 “ In either case was very different. 
 
 LXXXVII. 
 
 “ Jove’s splendour is an all-consuming flame, 
 
 “Which mortal creatures never can resist; 
 
 “ But that of Mars by no means is the same : 
 
 “ The fate of Semele thus Sylvia missed — 
 
 “ And 80 did we — From Semele there came 
 “ A foetus : this some sage anatomist 
 “ Placed in the thigh of Jupiter to stay 
 “ For its due time, when Bacchus saw the day. 
 
 LXXXVIII. 
 
 “ The gods, like us, have not a dull existence ; 
 
 “ Nor are they subject to the laws of Nature, 
 
 “ Which never justifies in man resistance 
 “ To her unvaried steady legislature. 
 
 “ Nor food nor drink have part in their subsistence : 
 “ Fevers and colds have the^ no nomenclature. 
 
 “ Into the path he chooses each one strikes — 
 
 “ Is born and acts precisely as he likes. 
 
 LXXXIX. 
 
 “ The beauteous Venus issued from the main — 
 
 “ Whilst rosy Bacchus from the Thunderer’s thigh 
 “ Came out mature — Minerva from his brain — 
 
 “ And gold gave Danie her pregnancy, 
 
 “ A flower was Mars’s father ; but ’tis vain 
 “ To ask what process Juno did it by.” — 
 
 Thus, whilst the flamen dogmas theologic 
 Explained, the pious abbess thought ’twas logic. 
 
xc. 
 
 But who would credit fables such as this ? 
 
 Methinks I hear you one and all repeat, 
 
 Alas ! how great’s the force of prejudice ! 
 
 And those who drink it from their mother’s teat, 
 Will always reckon such absurdities 
 b Divine, miraculous, sublime, and great, 
 
 e And though no man his eyes had on them set, 
 
 They universally with credit met. 
 
 xci. 
 
 But you, dear ladies, constantly who go 
 Bearing the lamp of reason in your hand — 
 
 You, not seduced by mere external show. 
 
 What’s true from false will cull, and understand. 
 Pleasure and usefulness is all (you know) 
 
 We should from fables old or new demand. 
 
 And your sagacity will always find 
 Some useful moral to instruct the mind. 
 
 xcii. 
 
 Fable ! oh thou, who dost o’er truths too rude 
 Thy varnished and transparent veil distend, 
 Who giv’st to falsehood an alluring mood — 
 
 Thou e’en hast dared the altar’s steps ascend. 
 And taken on thee God’s similitude. 
 
 Deceiving and deceived, before thee bend 
 Cunning and blind credulity alike, 
 
 And at the root of true religion strike. 
 
 XCIIl. 
 
 Oh ! daughter thou of man’s fantastic dreams. 
 Thou mistress of the marvellous and gay ! 
 
 O’er darkest legends thou canst cast thy beams 
 Where reason’s foot would hardly dare to stray. 
 And in the tomb’s forgetfulness thy gleams 
 Sprinkle the rust of ages with a ray ; 
 
 And those, who know thee for a lying cheat, 
 
 Yet love thee still, and joy in the deceit. 
 
 xciv. 
 
 1 
 

 CANTO THE SECOND. 
 
 I. 
 
 Glad tidings ! I as messenger am sent 
 bring you ^the delightful news. 
 
 ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ 
 
 * 
 
 . . . . — Why what ? a child ? — not one, but two. 
 
 II. 
 
 Pray, ask not who was Sylvia’s accoucheur, 
 
 I could not say, because I was not there ; 
 
 And that’s the truth ; yet this I can aver. 
 
 That something noble in the twins — an air. 
 From which their future fame you might infer. 
 Was plainly manifest to those who were. 
 
 But, if you ask their names. I’m told, the mother 
 Called Remus one and Romulus the other, 
 
 III. 
 
 At names like these methinks a glorious scene 
 Of Roman heroes past your vision goes. 
 
 With nation’s spoils, transalpine, transmarine. 
 
 You see the Trojans, Cajsars, Scipios 
 Ascend the capitol their gods between : 
 
 Till a new faith the pagan overthrows. 
 
 And then you see a papal throne arise 
 For Clements, Sistuses, and Gregories. 
 
 IV. 
 
 Besides, the augurs, flamens, and soothsayers 
 Forbad the women and the common folk 
 To canvas such miraculous affairs. 
 
 Lest vestal honoiprs should become a joke. 
 
 And rumour bring discredit on their prayers. 
 
 For they could read the God’s design, in smoke 
 Of victims, flights of birds, or bark of dogs, 
 
 Or in the guts of oxen, sheep, and hogs. 
 
V, 
 
 So, when the flamen heard the night-owl screech, 
 He caught the omen. Anxious to dispel 
 The people’s fears, he prophesied in speech 
 As strange as priests of Moloch or of Bel. 
 Possessed with frenzy, and inspired to teach. 
 
 He told the pious the new miracle. 
 
 How Mars unto a Vestal had descended, 
 
 And his immortal seed with her’s had blended. 
 
 VI. 
 
 Visions appeared, contrived by cunning sleight ; 
 
 Pretended oracles to speak were found : 
 
 And miracles the credulous affright, 
 
 J^ot in the fanes alone, but quarters round. 
 
 It was believed a Vestal virgin might 
 Be big by Mars, yet keep her virtue sound ; 
 And hence this birth miraculous imparted, 
 
 A holy fear to e’en the stoutest hearted. 
 
 VII. 
 
 But know you not what cruelty and pride 
 A sanguinary tyrant’s heart devour ? 
 
 Amulius, with suspicions terrified 
 
 Deep in the dungeons of a gloomy tower. 
 Imprisoned pseudo-Mars’s lovely bride 
 
 (Lest people’s zeal should paralyse his power). 
 With plausible but villainous pretence 
 Of guarding such a trust with diligence. 
 
 VIII. 
 
 Yet still he feared the mob; and, agitated 
 By various rumours and his bosom's stings, 
 
 His fury never openly he sated, 
 
 But set revenge to work by secret springs. 
 
 And (as in authors of repute is stated), 
 According to the style of despot kings. 
 
 He strangled her, or closed her in a tomb ; 
 
 Since no one ever knew her final doom. 
 
 IX. 
 
 His callous breast was equally the foe 
 Of priest and flamen, prophecy and dream — 
 He gave an order privily to throw 
 
 The twins into the Tiber’s rapid stream. 
 
 But fool is he, who would presume to go 
 Beyond the limits fate shall wisest deem ; 
 For, though his minions execute the deed. 
 
 The children’s safety Providence decreed. 
 
X. 
 
 The cradle, made of vine- twigs neatly banded, 
 Went floating down the river ^tn the 
 And harmless bore the twins, until it stranded 
 Upon some meadows, flooded near the side. 
 
 By much alluvion into fens expanded. 
 
 Whose surface osier stumps and branches hide. 
 A female wolf came down by chance to drink, 
 And found the children lying near the brink. 
 
 XI. 
 
 Persons, who witnessed all that passed, rehearsed 
 The story thus— The wolf her udder hung 
 Close to the babes, and with her milk she nursed 
 The orphan children, licking with her tongue 
 Their tender limbs. A royal herdsman flrst, 
 
 Who listless near his flocks his ditty sung. 
 Discovered them, preserved their wasting life. 
 
 And took them to be suckled by his wife. 
 
 XII. 
 
 The shepherd’s wife, a little while before, 
 
 Had lost an infant only two days old. 
 
 By sudden death ; and when her husband bore 
 The orphans to her, and his story told, 
 
 She blessed the chance ; and with the plenteous store 
 From her full breasts she fed them ; from the cold 
 Protected them ; and fondly vowed that she 
 Would bring them up as her own progeny. 
 
 XIII. 
 
 The shepherd Faustulus was named ; the wife 
 Laurentia ; who, by general repute. 
 
 Was said to lead a loose and carnal life. 
 
 And exercise the trade of prostitute. 
 
 In all the neighbourhood her fame was rife. 
 
 And profits large she gained from her pursuit. 
 
 And thus her nick-name, Lupa, got abroad. 
 
 Which means in Latin she-wolf or a bawd. 
 
 ' XIV. 
 
 Sylvia, from jeopardy herself to free. 
 
 Makes of her spark a Mars, and, by good luck. 
 
 Is honoured as his bride ; and then we see 
 A wench, become a she-wolf, giving suck. 
 
 ’Tis thus religious frauds, whatever they be. 
 
 By falsehood lead us and there leave us stuck. 
 And priests their dark manoeuvres to maintain. 
 Presume to take the name of God in vain. 
 
XV. 
 
 If men imbibe their tempers from the breast 
 (On which so many authors have disputed), 
 
 Since nurse and mother both were frail at best, 
 Heroes to make which aliment is suited, 
 
 Milk from a greedy wench, or milk exprest 
 From a young harlot’s bosom, may be mooted. 
 
 To give my own opinion I feel loth. 
 
 Unless allowed to analyse them both. 
 
 XVI. 
 
 Tradition says, however, near the den 
 
 To which the she-wolf suddenly retreated, 
 
 Atf righted by the gazing countrymen. 
 
 Who watched the children at her udder seated. 
 Where they were left deserted in the fen, 
 
 The neighbourhood a temple small completed ; 
 And, in remembrance of the children saved, 
 
 A suckling wolf in bronze was there engraved. 
 
 XVII. 
 
 To that famed brazen statue I allude, 
 
 Which in the time Augustus Caesar reigned. 
 
 With veneration by the Romans viewed. 
 
 Some damage from a thunderbolt sustained ; 
 
 And yet, in spite of Goths and Vandals rude, 
 
 Entire has to the present day remained. 
 
 And in the Campidoglio is admired 
 By strangers, with the love of art inspired. (*) 
 
 XVIII. 
 
 Meanwhile the haughty twins to manhood grew. 
 For strength, for valour, and for skill renowned, 
 And, full of martial enterprise, they slew 
 
 Wild beasts and robbers all the country round. 
 United with a fierce and daring crew 
 
 From chains they Numitor released and crowned. 
 The barriers of the royal citadel 
 They forced, and by their hands Amulius fell. 
 
 XIX. 
 
 When Faustulus such proofs of high descent 
 In brilliant deeds and rich endowments noted. 
 
 He then made known the wonderful event 
 Which marked their birth and origin denoted. 
 The crowd the air with acclamations rent 
 And grandsons they of Numitor were voted. 
 Proclaiming them as brother twins, alone 
 Legitimate successors to the throne. 
 
XX. 
 
 In little time they saw their bands so filled. 
 
 And such a multitude to join them come, 
 
 That ’twas resolved a capital to build, 
 
 Than Alba Longa, or Laviniura, 
 
 More spacious, and by artists better skilled. 
 
 To find a site that might such views become. 
 Mount Aventine was chosen by one brother, 
 And on the Palatine chance took the other. 
 
 XXI. 
 
 Both Greek and Latin pens the tale consign 
 Unto the memory of after ages, 
 
 How six large vultures on the Aventine 
 Appeared to Hemus, and how these presages 
 Were construed instantly as marks divine 
 Of favour by the prophesying sages. 
 
 That, at his pleasure, he might, when and where 
 He liked, the city build and name declare. 
 
 xxn. 
 
 But over Romulus soon after flew 
 A double flock of these same birds of prey ; 
 
 And from their flight and noise the augurs drew 
 Prognostications in another way. 
 
 Hence strife and rancour ’twixt the brothers grew ; 
 
 But Romulus, who would no chief obey. 
 Contrived his brother to assassinate. 
 
 And in this manner finished the debate. 
 
 xxm. 
 
 With measured steps thus Romulus completes 
 XT supreme. First, twelve ferocious knaves. 
 
 Named lictors, march before him in the streets : 
 
 The people, styled his children, were his slaves ; 
 
 A senate of a hundred members meets. 
 
 Which executes his will, but never braves. 
 
 Three hundred body-guards he next decrees 
 For self-security, called Celerest, 
 
 On all his famous deeds I hold my tongue, 
 thieves and murderers asylum found. 
 
 Aim hovT the populace in numbers sprung. 
 
 How, nor by taithnor rights of friendsEip bound, 
 He ravished Sabine wives and damsels young. 
 
 And with the blood of guests bedewed the ground- 
 The neighbouring states of which he got possession 
 By ways unjust and acts of foul aggressiom(») 
 
XXV. 
 
 When some new comet o’er our planet goes, 
 
 And in the sky displays his fiery tail ; 
 
 Upon the earth a lengthened train of woes, 
 
 And sad and countless miseries prevail. 
 
 J ust so, unless her barrier reason throws 
 Across their passage, heroes great entail 
 Mischief as much ; and, for their reputation. 
 
 Cost streams of blood to some surviving nation. 
 
 XXVI. 
 
 ’Twas written in the registers of fate 
 
 That one with such rare qualities endowed. 
 
 Of noble habits, piety so great. 
 
 Should, by the superstition of the crowd, 
 
 Of immortality participate. 
 
 That to his honour temples should be vowed. 
 
 As tutelary god of Home ; and fwn 
 Must I so old a tale recite again. 
 
 XXVII. 
 
 One day when Romulus had reached the plain 
 Descending from his palace to review 
 His troops, there rose a sudden hurricane. 
 
 Where, mixed with wind, the clattering hailstones flew ; 
 Impetuous rushed the fast descending rain. 
 
 So dense that objects undistinguished grew ; 
 
 The thunder rolled around, the lightning played. 
 
 And every person present was dismayed. 
 
 XXVIII. 
 
 Soon as the darkness somewhat was abated, 
 
 And all the fury of the tempest spent, 
 
 Their founder’s absence much alarm created. 
 
 And when in vain to find him people went» 
 
 In whispers low reports were circulated. 
 
 That many senators, from discontent 
 Both at his insults and tyrannic sway 
 Had taken, in the storm, his life away. 
 
 XXIX. 
 
 Let monarchs bear this lesson in their mind. 
 
 He who exalts some subjects o’er the rest. 
 
 By title or bv privilege, will find 
 Whene’er he would their haughtiness arrest. 
 
 Or re-assume the honours once consigned. 
 
 That these, disdaining to be so represt. 
 
 The insult, like the senate, will repay. 
 
 And, if they can, will take his life away. 
 
XXX. 
 
 But the arch flamen, in whose face appeared 
 Enthusiastic zeal, proclaimed aloud 
 That veiled in darkness he had disappeared, 
 
 Clothed in a dense impenetrable cloud ; 
 
 And from a hero to a god was reared, 
 
 Amid the lightning’s flash and thunder loud. 
 
 “ Lo ! he that once was Romulus, installed 
 A god, henceforth Quirinus shall be called. 
 
 XXXI. ^ 
 
 “ Thou, Rome, shalt be the queen of every nation ! 
 
 “Believe my sacred voice, which never lies. 
 
 “ Mars and Quirinus guard thy reputation, 
 
 “ Father and son, both warlike deities, 
 
 “ And to the earth’s remotest termination 
 “ Shall guide thy legions and thy victories. 
 
 “ If from a single god thy glories grew 
 “ So lasting, fancy what they will with two.” 
 
 XXXII. 
 
 ’Tis somewhat strange that from her infant bed. 
 When nascent Rome was yet without defence, 
 
 A universal sentiment was spread 
 Of what would one day be her power immense. 
 Yet I have somewhere of an abbe read. 
 
 Who always cried, “I’ll be an Eminence 
 And still repeating this, he after all 
 Finished by getting to be cardinal. 
 
 XXXIII. 
 
 But Romulus’s journey through the sky 
 Resembles it or not — do tell me, pray — 
 
 To St. Elijah so mysteriously 
 Borne in a fiery chariot away. 
 
 And carried (Scripture says) we know not why. 
 
 To wait the coming oi the Judgment Day ? 
 
 But stop ! these P^an matters are not fit 
 To be compared with things in holy writ. 
 
 XXXIV. 
 
 And every one, whose faith is but a grain. 
 
 Knows one fact’s true, the other all a fudge : 
 
 And that Elijah lives to preach again 
 The gospel’s faith, ere God mankind shall judge. 
 The Roman’s apotheosis, ’tis plain. 
 
 Is not by prophets vouched for, but some drudge. 
 No one in books canonic ever read it, 
 
 And at the most four scurvy priests have said it. 
 
XXXV. 
 
 The Roman people easily believed, 
 
 As much by nature to belief prepense ; 
 
 Absurdities religious they received, 
 
 Most wondrous when most void of common sense. 
 And by the flamen’s augury deceived, 
 
 And from his promises of power immense, 
 
 In adoration of their founder, all. 
 
 As to a tutelar protector, fall. 
 
 XXXVI. 
 
 The flamen’s voice adopting for their guide, 
 
 By bold vaticination ever led, 
 
 The ignorant ferocious mob decide 
 Honours divine on Romulus’s head; 
 
 One guilty of atrocious fratricide. 
 
 The violator of the Sabine’s bed. 
 
 How many heroes good as he have died, 
 
 Whom yet their subjects have not deified. 
 
 XXXVII. 
 
 Meanwhile the power supreme was delegated. 
 
 In council, to th’ assembled senate’s hands, 
 
 Which interregnum they denominated. 
 
 Beyond the Esquiline a village stands. 
 
 Or stood, called Curi. In it cultivated 
 Numa Pompilius his paternal lands. 
 
 Him, as a man for many virtues known. 
 
 And wise and just, they chose to fill the throne. 
 
 XXXVIII. 
 
 *Twas he, who first among this warlike race 
 A priestly service for the gods devised, 
 
 And gave their rites an honourable place. 
 
 The people’s rude pursuits he humanised. 
 
 Which peaceful habits by degrees efface. 
 
 And that this revolution might be prized. 
 
 The wary king considered craft as fit 
 And necessary to establish it. 
 
 XXXIX. 
 
 So, feeling what importance is attached 
 To such a subject, often he retired 
 In converse (if historians have not lied) 
 
 With one Egeria, a nymph inspired. 
 
 The vulgar always with impostors side, 
 
 Let dupes in joke or earnest be required. 
 
 The knave, who cheats the most, most profits still : 
 It always was so, and it ever will. 
 
XL. 
 
 When twilight drew her curtain o’er the sky, 
 Or by the moon’s uncertain feeble beam, 
 Numa would leave his palace quietly, 
 
 Without a guard, without a taper’s gleam, 
 To seek his petticoated deity. 
 
 Within a forest, close by Tiber’s stream ; 
 Where, from a grotto shaded and opaque, 
 Issued a limpid stream, that crossed the brake. 
 
 XLl. 
 
 * * * 
 
 XLII. 
 
 Thus sacred to Egeria was the cave. 
 
 And sacred to the Muses was the bower, 
 
 Where oft a Grecian or a Latin stave 
 Was sung, to celebrate her secret power. 
 
 There Numa was supposed in converse grave 
 On mystic lore to pass the midnight hour. 
 
 None dreamed this legislator of processions. 
 
 Was passing all his time in love prolessions. 
 
 XLIII. 
 
 Men who believed that Romulus had sprung 
 From Mars, and fancied him to heaven translated. 
 Dared not refuse belief to Numa’s tongue ; 
 
 Who, more astute, was much more estimated. 
 With ready faith they to his doctrines clung. 
 
 And what they heard the people venerated. 
 
 Both sexes on him cast a fearful look, 
 
 And Numa for the Roman Aaron took. 
 
 XLIV. 
 
 But you, good ladies, think, I’m sure, with me, 
 
 That these were nothing but religious traps. 
 
 To catch the stupid mob’s credulity ; 
 
 And, gentle ladies, you are right perhaps. 
 
 That right you are I perfectly agree, 
 
 But think you then, these superstitious chaps, 
 Without these tricks and hypocritic signs. 
 
 Would e’er have favoured Numa’s black designs? 
 
I’emples to great Quirinus were erected, 
 
 And spectacles and games were introduced, 
 
 And flamens for his worship were elected, 
 
 Whose words as oracles were next produced. 
 
 Then Numa powers miraculous affected, 
 
 And from the sky Anchylian shields deduced ; 
 
 And in this manner organised in fine 
 The Roman church’s pagan discipline. 
 
 XLVI. 
 
 For this a kind of rubric he prepares, 
 
 Which taught the priests their mode of predication. 
 The liturgies, the common form of prayers. 
 
 The sacred fillets and the auguration. 
 
 Religious practices and pious airs. 
 
 And all the forms of priestly education : 
 
 And when a writer would its merits sum, he 
 Compares it to the book of Deuteron6my. 
 
 XLVII. 
 
 If on these matters I have dwelt awhile, 
 
 I beg your pardon, and will close them here. 
 
 For think not I the history would compile 
 Of Roman times : — that, ladies, never fear. 
 
 Such waste of precious moments would be vile 
 
 On thjngs well known, of* which your memory’s clear. 
 ’Twere better far we some reflections drew. 
 
 From all that I’ve related hitherto. 
 
 XLVIII. 
 
 In early Rome, as in a looking glass, 
 
 I see the traces, visibly pourtrayed. 
 
 Of what in times succeeding came to pass. 
 
 Thus in the egg we know the chicken’s laid. 
 
 A single hint will furnish us a mass 
 
 Of proofs, on this foundation clearly made. 
 
 When Roman power apparently was dead. 
 
 Then rose up church authority instead. 
 
 XLIX. 
 
 If Romulus in Rome dominion gained. 
 
 To force and arms alone he owed his right — 
 
 By force alone was afterwards sustained ; 
 
 By arms alone, his empire reached its height. 
 
 Numa a method different maintained. 
 
 Who kept reli«jious sway alone in sight. 
 
 One king a warlike zeal in Rome excited ; 
 
 Religious zeal the other king invited. 
 
If Romulus his power and city founded, 
 
 From auspices of vultures, birds of prey, 
 His eagles, with rapacity unbounded. 
 
 Plundered and robbed as greedily as they. 
 And Rome allies and enemies confounded. 
 Despoiling friends or foes the selfsame way. 
 ’Till, on the Reman Emperor’s demise, 
 
 We see the Christian Roman pontiffs rise. 
 
 LI. 
 
 And if terrestrial arms fate gave to those, 
 
 Nor granted the?e the power which they possessed, 
 Celestial arms they can in turn oppose. 
 
 Leaving a doubt which weapons are the best. 
 Producing, when a pope would crush his foes. 
 
 Effects more dreadful, scourges more funest. 
 
 As, from the Vatican when thunder’s hurled. 
 
 The sounding curse frights half the Christian world. 
 
 Lll. 
 
 If modern Rome no longer has the means, 
 
 That had the ancient for rapaciousness, 
 
 Still to that glorious vice her temper leans 
 With courage than her model little less. 
 
 By Numa taught, from artifice she gleans ; 
 
 Unarmed, with not a legion to redress 
 Her wrongs, she makes whole nations bend the knee. 
 By ruling thought and mental liberty. 
 
 LIII. 
 
 The early Romans took their manly stamp 
 From Romulus, and from his sire supputed. 
 
 Which germinated in the Roman camp. 
 
 The pudic Sylvia, who, by Heaven deputed 
 To bear their founder, quitted Vesta’s lamp ; 
 
 The unknown nymph, who nightly was reputed 
 With Numa to confer — these set in motion 
 In Rome likewise the spirit of devotion. 
 
 LIV. 
 
 What pleasure must Quirinus not have shown ! 
 
 Beholding Brutus with his Roman brand 
 Expel a Tarquin from his regal throne, 
 
 And found a commonwealth. Then oh ! how grand 
 Mutius to see, who slays a man unknown. 
 
 For one a king, and burns his erring hand ;(®) 
 
 Or Cloelia swimming— or the single glaive 
 Of Codes on the bridge his country save. 
 
Then Cincinnatus, whom a people seeks 
 For their dictator, furrowing his field ; 
 
 Furius, distinguished for his hairy cheeks, 
 
 Who Brennus makes his ill-got booty yield ; — 
 Unbought Fabricius, going to his leeks, 
 
 His country’s triumph over Pyrrhus sealed ; 
 
 And Regulus, the Carthaginian’s rage 
 Who spurns, and seeks himself his iron cage. 
 
 LVI. 
 
 And more delighted still, and more content, 
 
 Rome’s founder would in spirit doubtless be, 
 
 To mark her rival Carthage, bound, and sent, 
 Dragged by the hair, in hopeless slavery ; 
 
 Beyond the Tigris, Danube, and the Trent, 
 
 Her laws and arms omnipotent to see ; 
 
 And, or as empire or republic, spread 
 Her limits farther than was ever read. 
 
 LVII. 
 
 Sometimes I picture an auspicious day, 
 
 Some victory, some triumph, some event 
 When songs and feasts made all the city gay. 
 
 And Rome resounded to the firmament. 
 
 How Romulus would make a holiday. 
 
 And all his colleagues pay him compliment. 
 
 With “ Dear Quirinus, what a splendid fete! 
 
 “ I’m come your godship to congratulate.” 
 
 LVIII. 
 
 But, in another sense, as I surmise, 
 
 The palm of glory we must Numa grant. 
 
 Who makes in Rome a school of worship rise 
 On bases firmer e’en than adamant. 
 
 Who finds her, first, things warlike only prize, 
 
 Yet bids religion arms, at last, supplant ; 
 
 On Caesar’s throne then sees the pontiffs mount, 
 And monks than consuls thought of more account. 
 
 LIX. 
 
 Who sees the cowl the dihapha displace, O 
 The augur’s lituus to the crosier yield,(*) 
 
 The friars augurs, nuns the ves^ chase ; 1 
 
 In paragon of oracles revealed^ 
 
 By Sibyl leaves, which occupy such place 
 In pagan annals — who beholds a field 
 More ample still, where revelations shine. 
 
 Made by St. Bridget or St. Catharine. 
 
'U 
 
 LX. 
 
 Oh I might I wings upon my shoulders bear, 
 
 And be of paradise like Gabriel, free, 
 
 I’d seize the soul of Numa by the hair, 
 
 And drag it up to that sublimity. 
 
 Where only true Elysium is ; and where 
 Eternal shines that sun split into three — 
 
 There would I show him, radiant in glory. 
 
 The Popes, whose actions famous are in story. 
 
 LXI. 
 
 “ Raise ” (would I say) “your thoughts and looks up there, 
 “ To him, whose seat, so luminously clear, 
 
 “Lords o’er the rest — you see St. Peter ! — Bare 
 Your head, incline your knee — his name revere. 
 
 “ He was a fisherman — the first to dare 
 “ The little cock* boat of the church to steer. 
 
 “ Cock-boat ! — yes, then it might be, I allow ; 
 
 “ But ’tis a line-of- battle ship just now. 
 
 LXII. 
 
 “ See Zachariah, who gives Pepin France. 
 
 “ See Leon of the empire make donation (®) 
 
 “ To Charlemagne. (^) See Charlemagne advance 
 “For Leon to perform his coronation, 
 
 “ Who thus the Hexarch in his power supplants, 
 “ And the Greek emperor in domination. 
 
 “ See Gregory(S) make Louis(») quit his throne, 
 “Forgiveness ask and for his fault atone. 
 
 LXIII. 
 
 “ Look but look not — for sure you never thought 
 “To cast your eyes on such atrocious deeds ! 
 
 Twelfth, who, in adultery caught, 
 With the faithless wife there lifeless bleeds, 
 
 “ By the ferocious husband’s poinard sought : 
 cutting anguish his dishonour breeds. 
 Think of Marotius !— think of Theodore ! 
 
 Oh ! shame ! that Peter’s keys such monsters bore. 
 
 LXIV. 
 
 “ ^ebold-ah ! no-the sight’s too horrid grown— 
 Phose lubric courtezans their lovers raise, 
 “And een their bastards, tn i 
 
 — o .lie. aims r 11 IS nis own I 
 . thorns the rose, the cornfield tares display ; 
 And now and then a mole upon the face 
 Of pretty women gives their features grace ” 
 
LXV. 
 
 “ Although most writers on tlie Revelations, 
 
 “ Where meaning never on the surface floats, 
 
 “ Have always said in their interpretations, 
 
 “ That, when St. John the scarlet vroman quotes, 
 “ lie had in view Rome’s foul abominations, 
 
 “ Which thus he allegorically notes ; 
 
 Would you for trifles, such as these, despise 
 “ A real woman of rare qualities ? 
 
 LXVI. 
 
 “ With popes the Devil dares not interfere ; 
 
 “ God’s vicars they, and sacrosanct beside, 
 
 “ There’s not a dogma in the church more clear . 
 
 “ And hence it is, whenever one has died, 
 
 “ God dips him in his grace ; and (never fear) 
 
 “ Whate’er his sins have been, he’s sanctified. 
 
 “ And that’s the reason those thou judgest damned, 
 “ However great their vices, here are crammed.” 
 
 LXVII. 
 
 “ Now cast your eyes on Gregory the Great, (*®) 
 
 “ Shut in Canossa with Matilda fair, 
 
 “ By whose exertions see the Papal state 
 
 “ More ample made, more dreaded everywhere : 
 
 “ Behold him thence on Henry fulminate, 
 
 “ And finally reduce him to despair. 
 
 “ Already Syria feels his crosier stir 
 “ To liberate Christ’s Holy Sepulchre. 
 
 LXVIII. 
 
 “ See Alexander(") rival kings appease— 
 
 “ A method short to end their quarrels teach— 
 “ Cut the great globe itself, like Cheshire cheese, 
 
 “ In two great slices, giving half to each, 
 
 “ Just as a father sets his brats at ease, 
 
 “ By halving them an apple or a peach. 
 
 “ See from the Vatican the English Harry 
 “Paul’s chastisement with difficulty parry. 
 
 LXIX. 
 
 “ See the Tenth Leon dissipate the gloom 
 “ Of ignorance ; and, with a single sign, 
 
 “ Learning and arts in new existence bloom, 
 
 “ And Latin, Greek, and Tuscan studies shine. 
 “ See fanes and libraries new pride assume : 
 
 “ See palaces to lodge the Papal line 
 “ Of splendid nephews, rich from the donations 
 “ Of kings devout and superstitious nations. 
 
 D 
 
LXX. 
 
 “ Below there, Pius(‘*) 8ee, who raised his lance 
 “ (First badly counselled, then assisted worse) 
 
 “ Against the formidable arms of France ; 
 
 “And how must he his stupid folly curse 
 “ Banished his throne, and left to fortune’s chance ! 
 
 “ But calm thy fears — the Papal throne’s reverse 
 “ By Bonaparte’s hand shall be defaced, 
 
 “ Who sceptres gives and takes, as suits his taste.” 
 
 nxxf. 
 
 “ Now look at those, who wear upon their head 
 “ Red caps, red hats (and have as red a glow 
 “ Upon their cheeks), red robes, and stockings red, 
 “ And red all over them from top to toe ; 
 
 “ They’re cardinals, that mother church has bred 
 “ As buttresses to save her overthrow. 
 
 “They form a body full of skill and sense, 
 
 “ And therefore popes are always chosen thence.” 
 
 LXXII. 
 
 “ Next look at those who go in groups and flocks, 
 
 ^ “^Or sit together on their benches rude, 
 
 cords who gird their woollen frocks, 
 
 “ Of saints and canonised a multitude : 
 
 “Robed some in white, grey, black, with tonsured locks. 
 
 « ? They’re monks, and all imbued 
 
 itn rules St. Francis or Augustin prized, 
 
 “Or Loyola or Dominic devised.” 
 
 u 
 
 (t 
 
 
 (( 
 
 (i 
 
 These, on the surface of the earth increased. 
 Imposed on every side respect and ftar 
 friarhood and tonsured priest. 
 With zeal intolerant and acts severe 
 Ihey ruled America, informed the East, 
 
 And rendered nations subject far and near : 
 And at their feet not only prostrate fell 
 I he vulgar herd, but even kings as well.” 
 
 iL Twx LXXIV. 
 
 Oh, Numa ! thou, who didst as pontiff reign, 
 
 U Yu rites were first decreed, 
 
 Upon thy alt^s bulls and lambs were slain. 
 it o ^ Roman Apostolic creed, 
 
 » hosts condemned in pain 
 
 .. executioners to bleed I— ^ 
 
 The numbcM sent by faggot and by flame 
 Agamst their will, to Heaven in Jesus’ name!” 
 
LXXV. 
 
 Methinks that Numa, opening wide his eyes, 
 
 At all these objects passing in review, 
 
 Would thus declare his wonder and surprise : — 
 
 “ Compared with cardinals, and such a crew 
 “ Of these immense monastic families, 
 
 “ What could my flamens and diales do T ' 
 
 Yet some may think he was in talent greater, 
 
 As first contriver, than his ape, St. Peter. 
 
 LXXVI. 
 
 But though the men, who strike out new inventions. 
 Show greater genius than who imitate. 
 
 Yet praise is due to those, the first intentions 
 Who bring by polish to maturer state. 
 
 So artists, from a scrawl without pretensions. 
 
 Great beauties sometimes will eliminate ; 
 
 And what in arts and sciences we do. 
 
 May in religion equally be true. 
 
 LXXVII. 
 
 Ladies, if reading in some ancient book. 
 
 You meet with all these circumstances stated. 
 They may, perhaps, assume a different look 
 
 From that in which you read them here narrated. 
 I in a morning gown the matter took. 
 
 Others in robes bedecked and variegated ; 
 
 Judge for yourselves which one deceives you less — 
 The morning dishabille or evening dress. * (*) 
 
 NOTES TO THE ORIGIN OF ROME. 
 
 CANTO THE PIRST. 
 
 (') The chronology of Livy is followed, — Vid. Lib. i., Dec. 1. 
 
 0) Besides the crime of sacrilegious violation of a vestal, which 
 it was usual to avenge publicly and solemnly, by burying the delin- 
 quent alive, other faults committed in the convent were severely 
 punished in private by the pontifex himself, who flagellated the 
 vestals naked in the sacristy, or in some other secret place, with a 
 leathern strap — a curtain being drawn before the door to prevent 
 profane or lascivious eyes from seeing. — Plut., in Nura. Pomp. 
 
 (*) The examples in Roman history are not rare of flamens and 
 pontifexes who took advantage of their station to seduce and cor- 
 rupt the vestals who were under their custody and guardianship. 
 Hence it was that now and then Rome was lavish in its praises 
 and honours on any tribunal that brought one of these venerable 
 sacrilegious fornicators to justice. 
 
NOTES TO THE ORIGIN OF ROME. 
 
 (*) Whoever is desirous of fully knowing the analogy which 
 exists between the ancient temples of Vesta and our religious con- 
 vents, as also between the customs, ceremonies, prayers, habits, 
 cutting the hair, and the manner of life and dresses of the vestal 
 virgins, letthim consult Du Boulay, Tresordes Antiquit4s Romaines, 
 in the 15th and other chapters. 
 
 CANTO THE SECOND. 
 
 (‘) Tactus est ille etiam qui hanc urbcm condidit, Romulos, 
 quern indnratum in Capitolio parvum atque lactantem uberibus 
 lupinis inhiantem fuisse meministis. Cicero in Cat «i., 8. 
 
 Hie silvestris erat Romani nominis altrix 
 Martin, quo parvos Mavortis semine natos 
 Uberibus gravidis vitali rore rigabat, 
 
 Qum turn cum pueris flammato fulminis ictu 
 Concidit, atque avulsa pedum vestigia liquit. 
 
 De Divinat i., 12. 
 
 (®) Although Livy (c. xiii., lib. i.) and Dionysius Halicarnassus 
 (c. XXX., 1. ii.) speak only of the rape of Sabine virgins, here the 
 poet follows the common opinion, that the violation extended to 
 both married and single. And, in truth, it seems difficult to sup- 
 pose that, in the midst of tumult and confusion, 683 virgins could 
 be distinguished and picked out, as Dionysius asserts, from those 
 that were not so. But perhaps the imagination of the ancient 
 authors, so full of the greatness of Rome, felt a propensity that 
 way, and inclined readily to what was marvellous. 
 
 (^) In this passage likewise the poet adheres to the received 
 opinion, that Mutius burned his hand to punish it for its mistake in 
 having killed the king’s secretary instead of Porsenna himself. 
 But Livy (1, ii., cap. xii.) asserts that Mutius did it to give the king 
 a proof of Roman courage. Assuredly (according to Dionysius 
 Halicarnassus) the person who was killed by Scoevola, instead of 
 Porsenna — and who by other writers is styled Scriba Regis — was 
 not a secretary, but a commissary] recensens^ et pecuniarily 
 
 quam ipse pro stipendio numerabat, in tabulus referens, — Lib. v., 
 cap. xxviii. 
 
 (^) The dihafus was a purple mantle twice dyed, worn by pon- 
 tiffs, augurs, and soothsayers. The suffihulus was also a sacerdotal 
 vestment, in the shape of a mantle, with a clasp at the breast, and 
 was worn likewise by the vestals. 
 
 (®) The lituus was a crooked stick which the pontifices maxirai 
 carried in their hands, and which was succeeded by the crosier, 
 
 (6) Leon in. 
 
 (J) Charlemagne. 
 
 (®) Gregory IV. 
 
 (®) St. Louis, 
 
 (>o) Gregory VII. 
 
 (") Alexander VI. 
 
 0") Pius VI.