Thence slides Vulturnus' swift-descending flood, And Sarnus hid beneath his misty cloud; Thence Lyris, whom the Vestin fountains aid, Winds to the sea through close Marica's shade; Thence Siler through Salernian pastures falls, And shallow Macra creeps by Luna's walls. Bordering on Gaul the loftiest ridges rise, And the low Alps from cloudy heights despise; Thence his long back the fruitful mountain bows, Beneath the Umbrian and the Sabine plows; The race primeval, natives all of old, His woody rocks within their circuit hold; Far as Hesperia's utmost limits pass, The hilly father runs his mighty mass; Where Juno rears her high Lučinian fane, And Scylia's raging dogs molest the main. Once, farther yet (t is said) his way he took, Till through his side the seas conspiring broke; And still we see on fair Sicilia's sands, Where, part of Apennine, Pelorus stands. But Cæsar for destruction eager burns, Free passages and bloodless ways he scorns; In fierce conflicting fields his arms delight, He joys to be oppos'd, to prove his might, Resistess through the widening breach to go, To burst the gate, to lay the bulwark low, To burn the villages, to waste the plains, And massacre the poor laborious swains. Abborring law, he chooses to offend,

And blushes to be thought his country's friend. The Latian cities now, with busy care, As various they inclin'd, for arms prepare. Though doom'd before the war's first rage to yield, Traches they dig, and ruin'd wails rebuild; Hure stone and darts their lofty towers supply, And guarded bulwarks menace from on high. To Pompey's part the proner people lean, Though Caesar's stronger terrours stand between. So when the blasts of sounding Auster blow, The waves obedient to his empire flow; And though the stormy god fierce Eurus frees, And sends him rushing cross the swelling seas; Spite of his force, the billows yet retain Their former course, and that way roll the

main;

The lighter clouds with Eurus driving sweep,
While Auster still commands the watery deep.
Still fear too sure o'er vulgar minds prevails,
And faith before successful fortune fails.
Etruria vainly trusts in Libo's aid,
And Umbria by Thermus is betray'd;
Sylla, unmindful of his father's fame,

Fied at the dreadful sound of Cæsar's name,,
Soon as the horse near Auximon appear,
Retreating Varus owns his abject fear,
And with a coward's haste neglects his rear;
On fight alone intent, without delay,
Through rocks and devious woods he wings his way.
Th' Esculean fortress Lentulus forsakes,
A swift pursuit the speedy victor makes;
All arts of threats and promises apply'd,
He wins the faithless cohorts to his side.
The leader with h ́s ensigns fled alone,
To Cæsar felt the soldier, and the town.
Thou, Scipio, too, dost for retreat prepare;
Thou leav'st Luceria, trusted to thy care;
Though troops well try'd attend on thy command,
(The Roman power can boast no braver band)
By vily arts of old from Cæsar rent,
Against the hardy Parthians were they sent;

But their first chief the legion now obeys,
And Pompey thus the Gallic loss repays;
Aid to his foe too freely he affords,
And lends his hostile father Roman swords.
But in Corfinium bold Domitius lies,
And from his walls th' advancing power defies;
Secure of heart, for all events prepar'd,
He heads the troops once bloody Milo's guard.
Soon as he sees the cloudy dust arise,

And glittering arms reflect the sunny skies:
'Away, companions of my arms!" he cry'd,
"And haste to guard the river's sedgy side:
Break down the bridge. And thou that dwell'st
below,

Thou watery god, let all thy fountains go,
And rushing bid thy foamy torrent flow;
Swell to the utmost brink thy rapid stream,

Bear down the planks, and every floating beam;
Upon thy banks the ling'ring war delay,
Here let the beadlong chief be taught to stay;
'Tis victory to stop the victor's way."

He ceas'd; and, shooting swiftly 'cross the plain,
Drew down the soldier to the flood in vain.
For Cæsar early from the neighbouring field,
The purpose to obstruct his march beheld:
Kindling to wrath, "Oh basest fear!" (he cries)
"To whom nor towers, nor sheltering walls suffice.
Are these your coward stratagems of war?
Hope you with brooks my conquering arms to bar?
Though Nile and Ister should my way control,
Though swelling Ganges should to guard you
roll,

What streams, what floods soe'er athwart me fall,
Who pass'd the Rubicon shall pass them all.
Haste to the passage then, my friends," He said;
Swift as a storm the nimble horse obey'd;
Across the stream their deadly darts they throw,
And from their station drive the yielding foe:
The victors at their ease the ford explore,
And pass the undefended river o'er.
The vanquish'd to Corfinium's strength retreat,
Where warlike engines round the ramparts threat.
Close to the wall the creeping vinea lies,
And mighty towers in dread approaches rise.

But see the stain of war! the soldier's shame!
And vile dishonour of the Latian name!
The faithless garrison betray the town,
And captive drag their valiant leader down.
The noble Roman, fearless, though in bands,
Before his haughty fellow-subject stands,
With looks erect, and with a daring brow,
Death he provokes, and courts the fatal blow:
But Cæsar's arts his inmost thoughts descry,
His fear of pardon, and desire to die.
"From me thy forfeit life" (he said) “receive,
And, though repining, by my bounty live;
That all, by thy example taught, may know,
How Cæsar's mercy treats a vanquish'd foe:
Still arm against me, keep thy hatred still,
And if thou conquer'st, use thy conquest, kill.
Returns of love, or favour, seek I none;
Nor give thy life to bargain for my own."
So saying, on the instant he commands
To loose the galling fetters from his hands.
Oh fortune! better were it, he had dy'd,
And spar'd the Roman shame, and Cæsar's pride.
What greater grief can on a Roman seize,

Than to be fore'd to live on terms like these!
To be forgiven, fighting for the laws,
And need a pardon in his country's cause!

His eagles he withdraws with timely care,

Nor trusts Rome's fates to such uncertain war.
As when, with fury stung and jealous rage,
Two mighty balls for sovereignty engage;
The vanquish'd far to banishment removes,
To lonely fields and unfrequented groves;
There, for a while, with conscious shame he burns,
And tries on every tree his angry horns:
But when his former vigour stands confest,
And larger muscles shake his ample breast,
With better chance he seeks the fight again,
And drives his rival bellowing o'er the plain;
Then micontroll'd the subject herd he leads,
And reigns the master of the fruitful meads.
Unequal thus to Cæsar, Pompey yields
The fair dominion of Hesperia's fields:
Swift through Apulia march his flying powers,
And seek the safety of Brundusium's towers.
This city a Dictaan people hold,

Here plac'd by tall Athenian barks of old;
When with false omens from the Cretan shore,
Their sable sails victorious Theseus bore.
Here Italy a narrow length extends,
And in a scanty slip projected ends.
A crooked mole around the waves she winds,
And in her folds the Adriatic binds.

Not yet the bending shores could form a bay,
Did not a barrier isle the winds delay,
And break the seas tempestuous in their way.
Huge mounds of rocks are plac'd by Nature's
land,

To guard around the hospitable strand:
To turn the storm, repulse the rushing tide,
And bid the anchoring bark securely ride.
Hence Nereus wide the liquid main displays,
And spreads to various ports his watery ways;
Whether the pilot from Corcyra stand,
Or for Illyrian Epidamnus' strand.
Hither when all the Adriatic roars,
And thundering billows vex the double shores;
When sable clouds around the welkin spread,
And frowning storms involve Ceraunia's head;
When white with froth Calabrian Sason lies,
Hither the tempest-beaten vessel flies.

Now Pompey, on Hesperia's utmost coast
Sadly survey'd how all behind was lost;
Nor to Iberia could he force his way;
Long interposing Alps his passage stay.
At length amongst the pledges of his bed,
He chose his eldest-born; and thus he said:
"Haste thee, my son! to every distant land,
And bid the nations rouse at my command:
Where fam'd Euphrates flows, or where the Nile
With muddy waves improves the fattening soil;
Where'er diffus'd by victory and fame,

Thy father's arms have borne the Roman name.
Bid the Cilician quit the shore again,
And stretch the swelling canvass on the main:
Bid Ptolemy with my Tigranes come,
And bold Pharnaces lend his aid to Rome,
Through each Armenia spread the loud alarm,
And bid the cold Riphean mountains arm.
Pontus and Scythia's wandering tribes explore,
The Euxine and Mæotis' icy shore;
Where heavy-loaded wains slow journeys take,
And print with groaning wheels the frozen lake.
But wherefore should my words delay thy haste?
Scatter my wars around through all the east.
Summon the vanquish'd world to share my fate,
And let my triumphs on my ensigns wait.

VOL. XX.

But you whose names the Roman annals bear,
You who distinguish the revolving year;
Ye consuls! to Epirus strait repair,
With the first northern winds that wing the air;
From thence the powers of Greece united raise,
While yet the wintery year the war delays."

So spoke the chief; his bidding all obey; Their ships forsake the port without delay, And speed their passage o'er the yielding way.

But Cæsar, never patient long in peace, Nor trusting in his fortune's present face; Closely pursues his flying son behind, While yet his fate continued to be kind. Such towns, such fortresses, such hostile force, Swept in the torrent of one rapid course; Such trains of long success attending still, And Rome herself abandon'd to his will; Rome, the contending parties' noblest prize, To every wish but Cæsar's might suffice. But he with empire fir'd and vast desires, To all, and nothing less than all, aspires; He reckons not the past, while aught remain'd Great to be done, or mighty to be gain'd. Though Italy obey his wide command, Though Pompey linger on the farthest strand, He grieves to think they tread one

land;

common

His heart disdains to brook a rival power,
E'en on the utmost margin of the shore;
Nor would he leave, or earth, or occan free;
The foe he drives from lands, he bars from sea.
With moles the opening flood he would restrain,
Would block the port, and intercept the main;
But deep devouring seas his toil deride,
The plunging quarries sink beneath the tide,
And yielding sands the rocky fragments hide.
Thus, if huge Gaurus headlong should be thrown,
In fathomless Avernus' deep to drown;
Or if from fair Sicilia's distant strand,
Eryx uprooted by some giant hand,
If, ponderous with his rocks, the mountain vast,
Amidst the wide Ægean should be cast;
The rolling waves o'er either mass would flow,
And each be lost within the depths below.
When no firm basis for his work he found,
But still it fail'd in ocean's faithless ground,
Huge trees and barks in massy chains he bound.
For planks and beams he ravages the wood,
And the tough boom extends across the flood.
Such was the road by haughty Xerxes made,
When o'er the Hellespont his bridge he laid,
Vast was the task, and daring the design,
Europe and Asia's distant shores to join,
And make the world's divided parts combine.
Proudly he pass'd the flood tumultuous o'er,
Fearless of waves that beat, and winds that roar:
Then spread his sails, and bid the land obey,
And through mid Athos find his fleet a way.
Like him bold Cæsar yok'd the swelling tide,
Like him the boisterous elements defy'd;
This floating bank the straitening entrance bound,
And rising turrets trembled on the mound.
But anxious cares revolve in Pompey's breast,
The new surrounding shores his thoughts molest;
Secret he meditates the means, to free
And spread the war wide-ranging o'er the sea.
Oft driving on the work with well-fill'd sails,
The cordage stretching with the freshening gales,
Ships with a thundering shock the mole divide,
And through the watery breach securely glide.

D

Huge engines oft by night their vengeance pour,
And dreadful shoot from far a fiery shower;
Through the black shade the darting flame de-
scends,

And kindling o'er the wooden wall extends.
At length arriv'd with the revolving night,
The chosen hour appointed for his flight;
He bids his friends prevent the seamens roar,
And still the deafening clamours on the shore;
No trumpets may the watch by hours renew,
Nor sounding signals call aboard the crew.
The heavenly Maid her course had almost run,
And Libra waited on the rising Sun;
When hush'd in silence deep they leave the land:
No loud-mouth'd voices call with hoarse command,
To heave the flooky anchors from the sand.
Lowly the careful master's orders past,
To brace the yards, and rear the lofty mast;
Silent they spread the sails, and cables haul,
Nor to their mates for aid tumultuous call.
The chief himself to Fortune breath'd a prayer,
At length to take him to her kinder care;
That swiftly he might pass the liquid deep,
And lose the land which she forbad to keep.
Hardly the boon his niggard fate allow'd,
Unwillingly the murmuring seas were plow'd;
The foamy furrows roar'd beneath his prow,
And sounding to the shore alarm'd the foe.
Straight through the town their swift pursuit they
sped,

(For wide her gates the faithless city spread)
Along the winding port they took their way,
But griev'd to find the fleet had gain'd the sea.
Cæsar with rage the lessening sails descries,
And thinks the conquest mean, though Pompey
A narrow pass the horned mole divides, [flies.
Narrow as that where Euripus' strong tides
Beat on Eubœan Chalcis' rocky sides:
Here two tall ships become the victor's prey:
Just in the strait they stuck; the foes belay;
The crooked grappling's steely hold they cast,
Then drag them to the hostile shore with haste.
Here civil slaughter first the sea profanes,
And purple Nereus blush'd in guilty stains.
The rest pursue their course before the wind,
These of the rear-most only left behind.
So when the Pegasæan Argo bore
The Grecian heroes to the Colchian shore;
Earth her Cyanean islands floating sent,
The bold adventurers' passage to prevent;
But the fam'd bark a fragment only lost,
While swiftly o'er the dangerous gulf she crost:
Thundering the mountains met, and shook the
main,

But move no more, since that attempt was vain. Now through night's shade the early dawning broke,

And changing skies the coming Sun bespoke;
As yet the Morn was drest in dusky white,
Nor purpled o'er the east with ruddy light;
At length the Pleiades' fading beams gave way,
And dull Boötes languish'd into day;
Each larger star withdrew his fainting head,
And Lucifer from stronger Phabus fled;
When Pompey, from Hesperia's hostile shore
Escaping, for the azure offing bore.

O hero, happy once, once styl'd the great!
What turns prevail in thy uncertain fate!
How art thou chang'd since sovereign of the main,
Thy navies cover'd o'er the liquid plain!

When the fierce pirates fled before thy prow,
Wherever waves could waft, or winds could blow!
But Fortune is grown weary of thee now.
With thee, thy sons, and tender wife, prepare
'The toils of war and banishment to bear;
And holy houshold-gods thy sorrows share.
And yet a mighty exile shalt thou go,
While nations follow to partake thy woe.
Far lies the land in which thou art decreed,
Unjustly, by a villain's hand to bleed.
Nor think the gods a death so distant doom,
To rob thy ashes of an urn in Rome;
But Fortune favourably remov'd the crime,
And forc'd the guilt on Egypt's cursed clime;
The pitying powers to Italy were good,
And sav'd her from the stain of Pompey's blood.

BOOK III.

THE ARGUMENT.

The third book begins with the relation of Pompey's dream in his voyage from Italy. Cæsar, who had driven him from thence, after sending Curio to provide corn in Sicily, returns to Rome: there, disdaining the single opposition of L. Metellus, then tribune of the people, he breaks open the temple of Saturn, and seizes on the public treasure. Then follows an account of the several different nations that took part with Pompey. From Rome Cæsar passes into Gaul, where the Massilians, who were inclinable to Pompey, send an embassy to propose a neutrality; this Cæsar refuses, and besieges the town. But meeting with more difficulties than he expected, he leaves C. Trebonius his lieutenant before Massilia, and marches himself into Spain, appointing at the same time D. Brutus, admiral of a navy which he had built and fitted out with great expedition. The Massilians likewise send out their fleet, but are engaged and beaten at sea by Brutus.

THROUGH the mid ocean now the navy sails,
Their yielding canvass stretch'd by southern gales.
Each to the vast Ionian turns his eye,
Where seas and skies the prospect wide supply:
But Pompey backward ever bent his look,
Nor to the last his native coast forsook.
His watery eyes the lessening objects mourn,
And parting shores that never shall return;
Still the lov'd land attentive they pursue,
Till the tall hills are veil'd in cloudy bine,
Till all is lost in air, and vanish'd from his view.
At length the weary chieftain sunk to rest,
And creeping slumbers sooth'd his anxious breast:
When, lo! in that short moment of repose,
His Julia's shade a dreadful vision rose;
Through gaping earth her ghastly head she rear'd,
And by the light of livid flames appear'd.
"Thy impious arms," she cry'd, "my peace infest,
And drive me from the mansions of the blest:
No more Elysium's happy fields I know,
Dragg'd to the guilty Stygian shades below:
I saw the fury's horrid hands prepare
New rage, new flames to kindle up thy war.
The sire no longer trusts his single boat,
But navies on the joyless river float.
Capacious Hell complains for want of room,
And seeks new plagues for multitudes to come.

When thou wert mine, what laurels crown'd thy Now thou hast chang'd thy fortune with thy bed. Is an ill hour thy second choice was made, To slaughter thou, like Crassus, art betray'd. Death is the dower Cornelia's love affords, Rain still waits upon her potent lords: While yet my ashes glow'd, she took my place, And came a harlot to thy loose embrace. But let her partner of thy warfare go, Let her by land and sea thy labours know; In all thy broken sleeps I will be near, In all thy dreams sad Julia shall appear. Your loves shall find no moment for delight, The day shall all be Cæsar's, mine the night. Not the duli stream, where long oblivions roll, Stall blot thee out, my husband, from my soul. The powers beneath my constancy approve, And bid me follow wheresoe'er you rove. Amidst the joining battles will I stand, And still remind thee of thy plighted hand. Nor think, those sacred ties no more remain; The sword of war divides the knot in vain, That very war shall make thee mine again."

The phantom spoke, and, gliding from the place,
Deluded her astonish'd lord's embrace.
But be, though gods forewarn him of his fate,
Ai faries with destruction threatening wait,
With ew resolves his constant bosom warms,
Als of ruin rushes on to arms.
[cries;
"What mean these terrours of the night?" he
"Way dance these visions vain before our eyes?
Or endless apathy succeeds to death,
And sense is lost with our expiring breath;
Or, if the soul some future life shall know,
To better worlds immortal shall she go:
Whate'er event the doubtful question clears,
Death most be still unworthy of our fears."
Now headlong to the west the Sun was fled,
And half in seas obscur'd his beamy head;
Surseems the Moon, while, growing yet, she
wazing from her fuller orb declines: [shines,
When hospitable shores appear at hand, [strand.
Where fair Dyrrachium spreads her friendly
The seamen furl the canvass, strike the mast,
Then dip their nimble oars, and landward haste.
Tas, while they fled, and lessening by degrees
The navy seem'd to hide beneath the seas;
Cesar, though left the master of the field,
With eyes unpleas'd the foe's escape beheld:
With derce impatience victory he scorns,

And viewing Pompey's flight, his safety mourns.
Toranquish seems unworthy of his care,
Unless the blow decides the lingering war.
No bounds his headlong vast ambition knows,
Nog joys in aught, though fortune all bestows.
At length his thoughts from arms and vengeance

Of old the swelling sea's impetuous tide
Tore the fair island from Hesperia's side:
Still foamy wars the jealous waves maintain,
For fear the neighbouring lands should join again.
Sardinia too, renown'd for yellow fields,
With Sicily her bounteous tribute yields;
No lands a glebe of richer tillage boast,
Nor waft more plenty to the Roman coast:
Not Libya more abounds in wealthy grain,
Nor with a fuller harvest spreads the plain;
Though northern winds their cloudy treasures
To temper well the soil and sultry air, [bear,
And fattening rains increase the prosperous year.
This done, to Rome his way the leader took:
His train the rougher shows of war forsook;
No force, no fears their hands unarmed bear,
But looks of peace and gentleness they wear.
Oh! had he now his country's friend return'd,
Had none but barbarous foes his conquest mourn'd;
What swarming crowds had issued at the gate,
On the glad triumph's lengthening train to wait!
How might his wars in various glories shine,
The ocean vanquish'd, and in bonds the Rhine!
How would his lofty chariot roll along,
Through loud applauses of the joyful throng!
How might he view from high his captive thralls,
The beauteous Britons, and the noble Gauls;
But, oh! what fatal honours has he won!
How is his fame by victory undone!
No cheerful citizens the victor meet,
But hush'd with awful dread his passage greet.
He too the horrours of the crowd approv'd,
Joy'd in their fears, and wish'd not to be lov'd.

Now steepy Anxur past, and the moist way,
Which o'er the faithless Pontine marshes lay;
Through Scythian Dian's Aricinian grove,
Cæsar approach'd the fane of Alban Jove.
Thither with yearly rites the consuls come,
And thence the chief survey'd his native Rome:
Wondering awhile he view'd her from afar,
Long from his eyes withheld by distant war.
"Fled they from thee, thou seat of gods!" he
"Ere yet the fortune of the fight was try'd? [cry'd
If thou art left, what prize can Earth afford,
Worth the contention of the warrior's sword?
Well for thy safety now the gods provide,
Since Parthian inroads spare thy naked side;
Since yet no Scythians and Pannonians join,
Nor warlike Daci with the Getes combine;
No foreign armies are against thee led,
While thou art curst with such a coward head.
A gentler fate the heavenly powers bestow,
A civil war, and Cæsar for thy foe."

He said; and strait the frighted city sought: The city with confusion wild was fraught, And labouring shook with every dreadful thought. They think he comes to ravage, sack, and burn; Religion, gods, and temples to o'erturn. Their fears suggest him willing to pursue Whatever ills unbounded power can do. Their hearts by one low passion only move, Nor dare show hate, nor can dissemble love. The lurking fathers, a dishearten'd band, Drawn from their houses forth, by proud command, In Palatine Apollo's temple meet, And sadly view the consul's empty seat; No rods, no chairs curule, adorn the place, Nor purple magistrates th' assembly grace. Cæsar is all things in himself alone, The silent court is but a looker-on ;