Book II
THE FLIGHT OF POMPEIUS
Remonstrance with the gods for allowing the future to be foretold, lines 1-18. Terror at Rome, 18-74. Relation of the massacres perpetrated by Marius and Sulla, 75-261. Interview between Brutus and Cato, 262-365. Marriage of Cato and Marcia, 366-426. Character of Cato, 427-442. Pompeius marches to Capua, 443. Geography of Italy, 450-494. Cæsar overruns Northern Italy, 496-533. Episode of Domitius at Corfinium, 534-590. Pompeius's speech to his army, 591-673. He retires to Brundisium, 674-690. The town described, 690-709. Cnæus is sent to the East, 709-733. Cæsar tries to block the harbour, 735-772. Pompeius escapes to Epirus, 773-837.
BOOK II
THE FLIGHT OF POMPEIUS
Thus was made plain the anger of the gods;
The universe gave signs: Nature reversed
In monstrous tumult fraught with prodigies
Her laws, and prescient spake the coming guilt.
How seemed it just to thee, Olympus' king,
That suffering mortals at thy doom should know
By omens dire the massacre to come?
Or did the primal parent of the world
When first the flames gave way and yielding left
Matter unformed to his subduing hand, 10
And realms unbalanced, fix by stern decree.
Unalterable laws to bind the whole
(Himself, too, bound by law), so that for aye
All Nature moves within its fated bounds?
Or, is Chance sovereign over all, and we
The sport of Fortune and her turning wheel?
Whate'er be truth, keep thou the future veiled
From mortal vision, and amid their fears
May men still hope.
Thus known how great the woes
The world should suffer, from the truth divine, 20
A solemn fast was called, the courts were closed,
All men in private garb; no purple hem
Adorned the togas of the chiefs of Rome;
No plaints were uttered, and a voiceless grief
Lay deep in every bosom: as when death
Knocks at some door but enters not as yet,
Before the mother calls the name aloud
Or bids her grieving maidens beat the breast,
While still she marks the glazing eye, and soothes
The stiffening limbs and gazes on the face, 30
In nameless dread, not sorrow, and in awe
Of death approaching: and with mind distraught
Clings to the dying in a last embrace.
The matrons laid aside their wonted garb:
Crowds filled the temples—on the unpitying stones
Some dashed their bosoms; others bathed with tears
The statues of the gods; some tore their hair
Upon the holy threshold, and with shrieks
And vows unceasing called upon the names
Of those whom mortals supplicate. Nor all 40
Lay in the Thunderer's fane: at every shrine
Some prayers are offered which refused shall bring
Reproach on heaven. One whose livid arms
Were dark with blows, whose cheeks with tears bedewed
And riven, cried, 'Beat, mothers, beat the breast,
'Tear now the lock; while doubtful in the scales
'Still fortune hangs, nor yet the fight is won,
'You still may grieve: when either wins rejoice.'
Thus sorrow stirs itself.
Meanwhile the men
Seeking the camp and setting forth to war, 50
Address the cruel gods in just complaint.
'Happy the youths who born in Punic days
'On Cannæ's uplands or by Trebia's stream
'Fought and were slain! What wretched lot is ours!
'No peace we ask for: let the nations rage;
'Rouse fiercest cities! may the world find arms
'To wage a war with Rome: let Parthian hosts
'Rush forth from Susa; Scythian Ister curb
'No more the Massagete: unconquered Rhine
'Let loose from furthest North her fair-haired tribes: 60
'Elbe, pour thy Suevians forth! Let us be foes
'Of all the peoples. May the Getan press
'Here, and the Dacian there; Pompeius meet
'The Eastern archers, Cæsar in the West
'Confront th' Iberian. Leave to Rome no hand
'To raise against herself in civil strife.
'Or, if Italia by the gods be doomed,
'Let all the sky, fierce Parent, be dissolved
'And falling on the earth in flaming bolts,
'Their hands still bloodless, strike both leaders down, 70
'With both their hosts! Why plunge in novel crime
'To settle which of them shall rule in Rome?
'Scarce were it worth the price of civil war
'To hinder either.' Thus the patriot voice
Still found an utterance, soon to speak no more.
Meantime, the aged fathers o'er their fates
In anguish grieved, detesting life prolonged
That brought with it another civil war.
And thus spake one, to justify his fears:
'No other deeds the fates laid up in store 80
'When Marius,[1] victor over Teuton hosts,
'Afric's high conqueror, cast out from Rome,
'Lay hid in marshy ooze, at thy behest,
'O Fortune! by the yielding soil concealed
'And waving rushes; but ere long the chains
'Of prison wore his weak and aged frame,
'And lengthened squalor: thus he paid for crime
'His punishment beforehand; doomed to die
'Consul in triumph over wasted Rome.
'Death oft refused him; and the very foe, 90
'In act to murder, shuddered in the stroke
'And dropped the weapon from his nerveless hand.
'For through the prison gloom a flame of light
'He saw; the deities of crime abhorred;
'The Marius to come. A voice proclaimed
'Mysterious, 'Hold! the fates permit thee not
'"That neck to sever. Many a death he owes
'"To time's predestined laws ere his shall come;
'"Cease from thy madness. If ye seek revenge
'"For all the blood shed by your slaughtered tribes to 100
'"Let this man, Cimbrians, live out all his days."
'Not as their darling did the gods protect
'The man of blood, but for his ruthless hand
'Fit to prepare that sacrifice of gore
'Which fate demanded. By the sea's despite
'Borne to our foes, Jugurtha's wasted realm
'He saw, now conquered; there in squalid huts
'Awhile he lay, and trod the hostile dust
'Of Carthage, and his ruin matched with hers:
'Each from the other's fate some solace drew, 110
'And prostrate, pardoned heaven. On Libyan soil[2]
'Fresh fury gathering,[3] next, when Fortune smiled
'The prisons he threw wide and freed the slaves.
'Forth rushed the murderous bands, their melted chains
'Forged into weapons for his ruffian needs.
'No charge he gave to mere recruits in guilt
'Who brought not to the camp some proof of crime.
'How dread that day when conquering Marius seized
'The city's ramparts! with what fated speed
'Death strode upon his victims! plebs alike 120
'And nobles perished; far and near the sword
'Struck at his pleasure, till the temple floors
'Ran wet with slaughter and the crimson stream
'Befouled with slippery gore the holy walls.
'No age found pity men of failing years,
'Just tottering to the grave, were hurled to death;
'From infants, in their being's earliest dawn,[4]
'The growing life was severed. For what crime?
''Twas cause enough for death that they could die.
'The fury grew: soon 'twas a sluggard's part 130
'To seek the guilty: hundreds died to swell
'The tale of victims. Shamed by empty hands,
'The bloodstained conqueror snatched a reeking head
'From neck unknown. One way of life remained,
'To kiss with shuddering lips the red right hand.[5]
'Degenerate people! Had ye hearts of men,
'Though ye were threatened by a thousand swords,
'Far rather death than centuries of life
'Bought at such price; much more that breathing space
'Till Sulla comes again.[6] But time would fail 140
'In weeping for the deaths of all who fell.
'Encircled by innumerable bands
'Fell Bæbius, his limbs asunder torn,
'His vitals dragged abroad. Antonius too,
'Prophet of ill, whose hoary head[7] was placed,
'Dripping with blood, upon the festal board.
'There headless fell the Crassi; mangled frames
''Neath Fimbria's falchion: and the prison cells
'Were wet with tribunes' blood. Hard by the fane
'Where dwells the goddess and the sacred fire, 150
'Fell aged Scævola, though that gory hand[8]
'Had spared him, but the feeble tide of blood
'Still left the flame alive upon the hearth.
'That selfsame year the seventh time restored[9]
'The Consul's rods; that year to Marius brought
'The end of life, when he at Fortune's hands
'All ills had suffered; all her goods enjoyed.
'And what of those who at the Sacriport[10]
'And Colline gate were slain, then, when the rule
'Of Earth and all her nations almost left 160
'This city for another, and the chiefs
'Who led the Samnite hoped that Rome might bleed
'More than at Caudium's Forks she bled of old?
'Then came great Sulla to avenge the dead,
'And all the blood still left within her frame
'Drew from the city; for the surgeon knife
'Which shore the cancerous limbs cut in too deep,
'And shed the life stream from still healthy veins.
'True that the guilty fell, but not before
'All else had perished. Hatred had free course 170
'And anger reigned unbridled by the law.
'The victor's voice spake once; but each man struck
'Just as he wished or willed. The fatal steel
'Urged by the servant laid the master low.
'Sons dripped with gore of sires; and brothers fought
'For the foul trophy of a father slain,
'Or slew each other for the price of blood.
'Men sought the tombs and, mingling with the dead,
'Hoped for escape; the wild beasts' dens were full.
'One strangled died; another from the height 180
'Fell headlong down upon the unpitying earth,
'And from the encrimsoned victor snatched his death:
'One built his funeral pyre and oped his veins,
'And sealed the furnace ere his blood was gone.
'Borne through the trembling town the leaders' heads
'Were piled in middle forum: hence men knew
'Of murders else unpublished. Not on gates
'Of Diomedes,[11] tyrant king of Thrace,
'Nor of Antæus, Libya's giant brood,
'Were hung such horrors; nor in Pisa's hall 190
'Were seen and wept for when the suitors died.
'Decay had touched the features of the slain
'When round the mouldering heap, with trembling steps
'The grief-struck parents sought and stole their dead.
'I, too, the body of my brother slain
'Thought to remove, my victim to the peace
'Which Sulla made, and place his loved remains
'On the forbidden pyre. The head I found,
'But not the butchered corse.
'Why now renew
'The tale of Catulus's shade appeased? 200
'And those dread tortures which the living frame
'Of Marius[12] suffered at the tomb of him
'Who haply wished them not? Pierced, mangled, torn —
'Nor speech nor grasp was left: his every limb
'Maimed, hacked and riven; yet the fatal blow
'The murderers with savage purpose spared.
''Twere scarce believed that one poor mortal frame
'Such agonies could bear e'er death should come.
'Thus crushed beneath some ruin lie the dead;
'Thus shapeless from the deep are borne the drowned. 210
'Why spoil delight by mutilating thus,
'The head of Marius? To please Sulla's heart
'That mangled visage must be known to all.
'Fortune, high goddess of Præneste's fane,
'Saw all her townsmen hurried to their deaths
'In one fell instant. All the hope of Rome,
'The flower of Latium, stained with blood the field
'Where once the peaceful tribes their votes declared.
'Famine and Sword, the raging sky and sea,
'And Earth upheaved, have laid such numbers low: 220
'But ne'er one man's revenge. Between the slain
'And living victims there was space no more,
'Death thus let slip, to deal the fatal blow.
'Hardly when struck they fell; the severed head
'Scarce toppled from the shoulders; but the slain
'Blent in a weighty pile of massacre
'Pressed out the life and helped the murderer's arm.
'Secure from stain upon his lofty throne,
'Unshuddering sat the author of the whole,
'Nor feared that at his word such thousands fell. 230
'At length the Tuscan flood received the dead—
'The first upon his waves; the last on those
'That lay beneath them; vessels in their course
'Were stayed, and while the lower current flowed
'Still to the sea, the upper stood on high
'Dammed back by carnage. Through the streets meanwhile
'In headlong torrents ran a tide of blood,
'Which furrowing its path through town and field
'Forced the slow river on. But now his banks
'No longer held him, and the dead were thrown 240
'Back on the fields above. With labour huge
'At length he struggled to his goal and stretched
'In crimson streak across the Tuscan sea.
'For deeds like these, shall Sulla now be styled
'"Darling of Fortune", "Saviour of the State"?
'For these, a tomb in middle field of Mars
'Record his fame? Like horrors now return
'For us to suffer; and the civil war
'Thus shall be waged again and thus shall end.
'Yet worse disasters may our fears suggest, 250
'For now with greater carnage of mankind
'The rival hosts in weightier battle meet.
'To exiled Marius, successful strife
'Was Rome regained; triumphant Sulla knew
'No greater joy than on his hated foes
'To wreak his vengeance with unsparing sword.
'But these more powerful rivals Fortune calls
'To worse ambitions; nor would either chief
'For such reward as Sulla's wage the war.'
Thus, mindful of his youth, the aged man 260
Wept for the past, but feared the coming days.
Such terrors found in haughty Brutus' breast
No home. When others sat them down to fear
He did not so, but in the dewy night
When the great wain was turning round the pole
He sought his kinsman Cato's humble home.
Him sleepless did he find, not for himself
Fearing, but pondering the fates of Rome,
And deep in public cares. And thus he spake:
'O thou in whom that virtue, which of yore 270
'Took flight from earth, now finds its only home,
'Outcast to all besides, but safe with thee:
'Vouchsafe thy counsel to my wavering soul
'And make my weakness strength. While Cæsar some,
'Pompeius others, follow in the fight,
'Cato is Brutus' guide. Art thou for peace,
'Holding thy footsteps in a tottering world
'Unshaken? Or wilt thou with the leaders' crimes
'And with the people's fury take thy part,
'nd by thy presence purge the war of guilt? 280
'In impious battles men unsheath the sword;
'But each by cause impelled: the household crime;
'Laws feared in peace; want by the sword removed;
'And broken credit, that its ruin hides
'In general ruin. Drawn by hope of gain,
'And not by thirst for blood, they seek the camp.
'Shall Cato for war's sake make war alone?
'What profits it through all these wicked years
'That thou hast lived untainted? This were all
'Thy meed of virtue, that the wars which find 290
'Guilt in all else, shall make thee guilty too.
'Ye gods, permit not that this fatal strife
'Should stir those hands to action! When the clouds
'Of flying javelins hiss upon the air,
'Let not a dart be thine; nor spent in vain
'Such virtue! All the fury of the war
'Shall launch itself on thee, for who, when faint
'And wounded, would not rush upon thy sword,
'Take thence his death, and make the murder thine?
'Do thou live on thy peaceful life apart 300
'As on their paths the stars unshaken roll.
'The lower air that verges on the earth
'Gives flame and fury to the levin bolt;
'The deeps below the world engulph the winds
'And tracts of flaming fire. By Jove's decree
'Olympus rears his summit o'er the clouds:
'In lowlier valleys storms and winds contend,
'But peace eternal reigns upon the heights.
'What joy for Cæsar, if the tidings come
'That such a citizen has joined the war? 310
'Glad would he see thee e'en in Magnus' tents;
'For Cato's conduct shall approve his own.
'Pompeius, with the Consul in his ranks,
'And half the Senate and the other chiefs,
'Vexes my spirit; and should Cato too
'Bend to a master's yoke, in all the world
'The one man free is Cæsar. But if thou
'For freedom and thy country's laws alone
'Be pleased to raise the sword, nor Magnus then
'Nor Cæsar shall in Brutus find a foe. 320
'Not till the fight is fought shall Brutus strike,
'Then strike the victor.'
Brutus thus; but spake
Cato from inmost breast these sacred words:
'Chief in all wickedness is civil war,
'Yet virtue in the paths marked out by fate
'Treads on securely. Heaven's will be the crime
'To have made even Cato guilty. Who has strength
'To gaze unawed upon a toppling world?
'When stars and sky fall headlong, and when earth
'Slips from her base, who sits with folded hands? 330
'Shall unknown nations, touched by western strife,
'And monarchs born beneath another clime
'Brave the dividing seas to join the war?
'Shall Scythian tribes desert their distant north,
'And Getæ haste to view the fall of Rome,
'And I look idly on? As some fond sire,
'Reft of his sons, compelled by grief, himself
'Marshals the long procession to the tomb,
'Thrusts his own hand within the funeral flames,
'Soothing his heart, and, as the lofty pyre 340
'Rises on high, applies the kindled torch:
'Nought, Rome, shall tear thee from me, till I hold
'Thy form in death embraced; and Freedom's name,
'Shade though it be, I'll follow to the grave.
'Yea! let the cruel gods exact in full
'Rome's expiation: of no drop of blood
'The war be robbed. I would that, to the gods
'Of heaven and hell devoted, this my life
'Might satisfy their vengeance. Decius fell,
'Crushed by the hostile ranks. When Cato falls 350
'Let Rhine's fierce barbarous hordes and both the hosts
'Thrust through my frame their darts! May I alone
'Receive in death the wounds of all the war!
'Thus may the people be redeemed, and thus
'Rome for her guilt pay the atonement due.
'Why should men die who wish to bear the yoke
'And shrink not from the tyranny to come?
'Strike me, and me alone, of laws and rights
'In vain the guardian: this vicarious life
'Shall give Hesperia peace and end her toils. 360
'Who then will reign shall find no need for war.
'You ask, 'Why follow Magnus? If he wins[13]
'He too will claim the Empire of the world.'
'Then let him, conquering with my service, learn
'Not for himself to conquer.' Thus he spoke
And stirred the blood that ran in Brutus' veins
Moving the youth to action in the war.
Soon as the sun dispelled the chilly night,
The sounding doors flew wide, and from the tomb
Of dead Hortensius grieving Marcia came.[14] 370
First joined in wedlock to a greater man
Three children did she bear to grace his home:
Then Cato to Hortensius gave the dame
To be a fruitful mother of his sons
And join their houses in a closer tie.
And now the last sad offices were done
She came with hair dishevelled, beaten breast,
And ashes on her brow, and features worn
With grief; thus only pleasing to the man.
'When youth was in me and maternal power 380
'I did thy bidding, Cato, and received
'A second husband: now in years grown old
'Ne'er to be parted I return to thee.
'Renew our former pledges undefiled:
'Give back the name of wife: upon my tomb
'Let 'Marcia, spouse to Cato,' be engraved.
'Nor let men question in the time to come,
'Did'st thou compel, or did I willing leave
'My first espousals. Not in happy times,
'Partner of joys, I come; but days of care 390
'And labour shall be mine to share with thee.
'Nor leave me here, but take me to the camp,
'Thy fond companion: why should Magnus' wife
'Be nearer, Cato, to the wars than thine?"
Although the times were warlike and the fates
Called to the fray, he lent a willing ear.
Yet must they plight their faith in simple form
Of law; their witnesses the gods alone.
No festal wreath of flowers crowned the gate
Nor glittering fillet on each post entwined; 400
No flaming torch was there, nor ivory steps,
No couch with robes of broidered gold adorned;
No comely matron placed upon her brow
The bridal garland, or forbad the foot[15]
To touch the threshold stone; no saffron veil
Concealed the timid blushes of the bride;
No jewelled belt confined her flowing robe[16]
Nor modest circle bound her neck; no scarf
Hung lightly on the snowy shoulder's edge
Around the naked arm. Just as she came, 410
Wearing the garb of sorrow, while the wool
Covered the purple border of her robe,
Thus was she wedded. As she greets her sons
So doth she greet her husband. Festal games
Graced not their nuptials, nor were friends and kin
As by the Sabines bidden: silent both
They joined in marriage, yet content, unseen
By any save by Brutus. Sad and stern
On Cato's lineaments the marks of grief
Were still unsoftened, and the hoary hair 420
Hung o'er his reverend visage; for since first
Men flew to arms, his locks were left unkempt
To stream upon his brow, and on his chin
His beard untended grew. 'Twas his alone
Who hated not, nor loved, for all mankind
To mourn alike. Nor did their former couch
Again receive them, for his lofty soul
E'en lawful love resisted. 'Twas his rule
Inflexible, to keep the middle path
Marked out and bounded; to observe the laws 430
Of natural right; and for his country's sake
To risk his life, his all, as not for self
Brought into being, but for all the world:
Such was his creed. To him a sumptuous feast
Was hunger conquered, and the lowly hut,
Which scarce kept out the winter, was a home
Equal to palaces: a robe of price
Such hairy garments as were worn of old:
The end of marriage, offspring. To the State
Father alike and husband, right and law 440
He ever followed with unswerving step:
No thought of selfish pleasure turned the scale
In Cato's acts, or swayed his upright soul.
Meanwhile Pompeius led his trembling host
To fields Campanian, and held the walls
First founded by the chief of Trojan race.[17]
These chose he for the central seat of war,
Some troops despatching who might meet the foe
Where shady Apennine lifts up the ridge
Of mid Italia; nearest to the sky 450
Upsoaring, with the seas on either hand,
The upper and the lower. Pisa's sands
Breaking the margin of the Tuscan deep,
Here bound his mountains: there Ancona's towers
Laved by Dalmatian waves. Rivers immense,
In his recesses born, pass on their course,
To either sea diverging. To the left
Metaurus, and Crustumium's torrent, fall
And Sena's streams and Aufidus who bursts
On Adrian billows; and that mighty flood 460
Which, more than all the rivers of the earth,
Sweeps down the soil and tears the woods away
And drains Hesperia's springs. In fabled lore
His banks were first by poplar shade enclosed:[18]
And when by Phæthon the waning day
Was drawn in path transverse, and all the heaven
Blazed with his car aflame, and from the depths
Of inmost earth were rapt all other floods,
Padus still rolled in pride of stream along.
Nile were no larger, but that o'er the sand 470
Of level Egypt he spreads out his waves;
Nor Ister, if he sought the Scythian main
Unhelped upon his journey through the world
By tributary waters not his own.
But on the right hand Tiber has his source,
Deep-flowing Rutuba, Vulturnus swift,
And Sarnus breathing vapours of the night
Rise there, and Liris with Vestinian wave
Still gliding through Marica's shady grove,
And Siler flowing through Salernian meads: 480
And Macra's swift unnavigable stream
By Luna lost in Ocean. On the Alps
Whose spurs strike plainwards, and on fields of Gaul
The cloudy heights of Apennine look down
In further distance: on his nearer slopes
The Sabine turns the ploughshare; Umbrian kine
And Marsian fatten; with his pineclad rocks
He girds the tribes of Latium, nor leaves
Hesperia's soil until the waves that beat
On Scylla's cave compel. His southern spurs 490
Extend to Juno's temple, and of old
Stretched further than Italia, till the main
O'erstepped his limits and the lands repelled.
But, when the seas were joined, Pelorus claimed
His latest summits for Sicilia's isle.
Cæsar, in rage for war, rejoicing found
Foes in Italia; no bloodless steps
Nor vacant homes had pleased him;[19] so his march
Were wasted: now the coming war was joined
Unbroken to the past; to force the gates 500
Not find them open, fire and sword to bring
Upon the harvests, not through fields unharmed
To pass his legions—this was Cæsar's joy;
In peaceful guise to march, this was his shame.
Italia's cities, doubtful in their choice,
Though to the earliest onset of the war
About to yield, strengthened their walls with mounds
And deepest trench encircling: massive stones
And bolts of war to hurl upon the foe
They place upon the turrets. Magnus most 510
The people's favour held, yet faith with fear
Fought in their breasts. As when, with strident blast,
A southern tempest has possessed the main
And all the billows follow in its track:
Then, by the Storm-king smitten, should the earth
Set Eurus free upon the swollen deep,
It shall not yield to him, though cloud and sky
Confess his strength; but in the former wind
Still find its master. But their fears prevailed,
And Cæsar's fortune, o'er their wavering faith. 520
For Libo fled Etruria; Umbria lost
Her freedom, driving Thermus[20] from her bounds;
Great Sulla's son, unworthy of his sire,
Feared at the name of Cæsar: Varus sought
The caves and woods, when smote the hostile horse
The gates of Auximon; and Spinther driven
From Asculum, the victor on his track,
Fled with his standards, soldierless; and thou,
Scipio, did'st leave Nuceria's citadel
Deserted, though by bravest legions held 530
Sent home by Cæsar for the Parthian war;[21]
Whom Magnus earlier, to his kinsman gave
A loan of Roman blood, to fight the Gaul.
But brave Domitius held firm his post[22]
Behind Corfinium's ramparts; his the troops
Who newly levied kept the judgment hall
At Milo's trial.[23] When from far the plain
Rolled up a dusty cloud, beneath whose veil
The sheen of armour glistening in the sun,
Revealed a marching host. "Dash down," he cried, 540
'Swift as ye can, the bridge that spans the stream;
'And thou, O river, from thy mountain source
'With all thy torrents rushing, planks and beams
'Ruined and broken on thy foaming breast
'Bear onward to the sea. The war shall stop
'Here, to our triumph; for this headlong chief
'Here first at our firm bidding shall be stayed.'
He bade his squadrons, speeding from the walls,
Charge on the bridge: in vain: for Cæsar saw
They sought to free the river from his chains[24] 550
And bar his march; and roused to ire, he cried:
'Were not the walls sufficient to protect
'Your coward souls? Seek ye by barricades
'And streams to keep me back? What though the flood
'Of swollen Ganges were across my path?
'Now Rubicon is passed, no stream on earth
'Shall hinder Cæsar! Forward, horse and foot,
'And ere it totters rush upon the bridge.'
Urged in their swiftest gallop to the front
Dashed the light horse across the sounding plain; 560
And suddenly, as storm in summer, flew
A cloud of javelins forth, by sinewy arms
Hurled at the foe; the guard is put to flight,
And conquering Cæsar, seizing on the bridge,
Compels the enemy to keep the walls.
Now do the mighty engines, soon to hurl
Gigantic stones, press forward, and the ram
Creeps 'neath the ramparts; when the gates fly back,
And lo! the traitor troops, foul crime in war,
Yield up their leader. Him they place before 570
His proud compatriot; yet with upright form,
And scornful features and with noble mien,
He asks his death. But Cæsar knew his wish
Was punishment, and pardon was his fear:
'Live though thou would'st not,' so the chieftain spake,
'And by my gift, unwilling, see the day:
'Be to my conquered foes the cause of hope,
'Proof of my clemency—or if thou wilt
'Take arms again—and should'st thou conquer, count
'This pardon nothing.' Thus he spake, and bade 580
Let loose the bands and set the captive free.
Ah! better had he died, and fortune spared
The Roman's last dishonour, whose worse doom
It is, that he who joined his country's camp
And fought with Magnus for the Senate's cause
Should gain for this—a pardon! Yet he curbed
His anger, thinking, 'Wilt thou then to Rome
'And peaceful scenes, degenerate? Rather war,
'The furious battle and the certain end!
'Break with life's ties: be Cæsar's gift in vain.' 590
Pompeius, ignorant that his captain thus
Was taken, armed his levies newly raised
To give his legions strength; and as he thought
To sound his trumpets with the coming dawn,
To test his soldiers ere he moved his camp
Thus in majestic tones their ranks addressed:
'Soldiers of Rome! Avengers of her laws!
'To whom the Senate gives no private arms,
'Ask by your voices for the battle sign.
'Fierce falls the pillage on Hesperian fields, 600
'And Gallia's fury o'er the snowy Alps[25]
'Is poured upon us. Cæsar's swords at last
'Are red with Roman blood. But with the wound
'We gain the better cause; the crime is theirs.
'No war is this, but for offended Rome
'We wreak the vengeance; as when Catiline
'Lifted against her roofs the flaming brand
'And, partner in his fury, Lentulus,
'And mad Cethegus[26] with his naked arm.
'Is such thy madness, Cæsar? when the Fates 610
'With great Camillus' and Metellus' names
'Might place thine own, dost thou prefer to rank
'With Marius and Cinna? Swift shall be
'Thy fall: as Lepidus before the sword
'Of Catulus; or who my axes felt,
'Carbo,[27] now buried in Sicanian tomb;
'Or who, in exile, roused Iberia's hordes,
'Sertorius—yet, witness Heaven, with these
'I hate to rank thee; hate the task that Rome
'Has laid upon me, to oppose thy rage. 620
'Would that in safety from the Parthian war
'And Scythian steppes had conquering Crassus come!
'Then haply had'st thou fallen by the hand
'That smote vile Spartacus the robber foe.
'But if among my triumphs fate has said
'Thy conquest shall be written, know this heart
'Still sends the life blood coursing: and this arm[28]
'Still vigorously flings the dart afield.
'He deems me slothful. Cæsar, thou shalt learn
'We brook not peace because we lag in war. 630
'Old, does he call me? Fear not ye mine age.
'Let me be elder, if his soldiers are.
'The highest point a citizen can reach
'And leave his people free, is mine: a throne
'Alone were higher; whoso would surpass
'Pompeius, aims at that. Both Consuls stand
'Here; here for battle stand your lawful chiefs:
'And shall this Cæsar drag the Senate down?
'Not with such blindness, not so lost to shame
'Does Fortune rule. Does he take heart from Gaul: 640
'For years on years rebellious, and a life
'Spent there in labour? or because he fled
'Rhine's icy torrent and the shifting pools
'He calls an ocean? or unchallenged sought
'Britannia's cliffs; then turned his back in flight?
'Or does he boast because his citizens
'Were driven in arms to leave their hearths and homes?
'Ah, vain delusion! not from thee they fled:
'My steps they follow—mine, whose conquering signs
'Swept all the ocean,[29] and who, ere the moon 650
'Twice filled her orb and waned, compelled to flight
'The pirate, shrinking from the open sea,
'And humbly begging for a narrow home
'In some poor nook on shore. 'Twas I again
'Who, happier far than Sulla, drave to death[30]
'That king who, exiled to the deep recess
'Of Scythian Pontus, held the fates of Rome
'Still in the balances. Where is the land
'That hath not seen my trophies? Icy waves
'Of northern Phasis, hot Egyptian shores, 660
'And where Syene 'neath its noontide sun
'Knows shade on neither hand:[31] all these have learned
'To fear Pompeius: and far Bætis'[32] stream,
'Last of all floods to join the refluent sea.
'Arabia and the warlike hordes that dwell
'Beside the Euxine wave: the famous land
'That lost the Golden Fleece; Cilician wastes,
'And Cappadocian, and the Jews who pray
'Before an unknown God; Sophene soft—
'All felt my yoke. What conquests now remain, 670
'What wars not civil can my kinsman wage?'
No loud acclaim received his words, nor shout
Asked for the promised battle: and the chief
Drew back the standards, for the soldier's fears
Were in his soul alike; nor dared he trust
An army, vanquished by the fame alone
Of Cæsar's powers, to fight for such a prize.
And as some bull, his early combat lost,
Forth driven from the herd, in exile roams
Through lonely plains or secret forest depths, 680
Whets on opposing trunks his growing horn,
And proves himself for battle, till his neck
Is ribbed afresh with muscle: then returns,
Defiant of the hind, and victor now
Leads wheresoe'er he will his lowing bands:
Thus Magnus, yielding to a stronger foe,
Gave up Italia, and sought in flight
Brundusium's sheltering battlements.
Here of old
Fled Cretan settlers when the dusky sail[33]
Spread the false message of the hero dead; 690
Here, where Hesperia, curving as a bow,
Draws back her coast, a little tongue of land
Shuts in with bending horns the sounding main.
Yet insecure the spot, unsafe in storm,
Were it not sheltered by an isle on which
The Adriatic billows dash and fall,
And tempests lose their strength: on either hand
A craggy cliff opposing breaks the gale
That beats upon them, while the ships within
Held by their trembling cables ride secure. 700
Hence to the mariner the boundless deep
Lies open, whether for Corcyra's port
He shapes his sails, or for Illyria's shore,
And Epidamnus facing to the main
Ionian. Here, when raging in his might
Fierce Adria whelms in foam Calabria's coast,
When clouds tempestuous veil Ceraunus' height,
The sailor finds a haven.
When the chief
Could find no hope in battle on the soil
He now was quitting, and the lofty Alps 710
Forbad Iberia, to his son he spake,
The eldest scion of that noble stock:
'Search out the far recesses of the earth,
'Nile and Euphrates, wheresoe'er the fame
'Of Magnus lives, where, through thy father's deeds,
'The people tremble at the name of Rome.
'Lead to the sea again the pirate bands;
'Rouse Egypt's kings; Tigranes, wholly mine,
'And Pharnaces and all the vagrant tribes
'Of both Armenias; and the Pontic hordes, 720
'Warlike and fierce; the dwellers on the hills
'Rhipæan, and by that dead northern marsh
'Whose frozen surface bears the loaded wain.
'Why further stay thee? Let the eastern world
'Sound with the war, all cities of the earth
'Conquered by me, as vassals, to my camp
'Send all their levied hosts. And you whose names
'Within the Latian book recorded stand,
'Strike for Epirus with the northern wind;
'And thence in Greece and Macedonian tracts, 730
'(While winter gives us peace) new strength acquire
'For coming conflicts.' They obey his words
And loose their ships and launch upon the main.
The universe gave signs: Nature reversed
In monstrous tumult fraught with prodigies
Her laws, and prescient spake the coming guilt.
How seemed it just to thee, Olympus' king,
That suffering mortals at thy doom should know
By omens dire the massacre to come?
Or did the primal parent of the world
When first the flames gave way and yielding left
Matter unformed to his subduing hand, 10
And realms unbalanced, fix by stern decree.
Unalterable laws to bind the whole
(Himself, too, bound by law), so that for aye
All Nature moves within its fated bounds?
Or, is Chance sovereign over all, and we
The sport of Fortune and her turning wheel?
Whate'er be truth, keep thou the future veiled
From mortal vision, and amid their fears
May men still hope.
Thus known how great the woes
The world should suffer, from the truth divine, 20
A solemn fast was called, the courts were closed,
All men in private garb; no purple hem
Adorned the togas of the chiefs of Rome;
No plaints were uttered, and a voiceless grief
Lay deep in every bosom: as when death
Knocks at some door but enters not as yet,
Before the mother calls the name aloud
Or bids her grieving maidens beat the breast,
While still she marks the glazing eye, and soothes
The stiffening limbs and gazes on the face, 30
In nameless dread, not sorrow, and in awe
Of death approaching: and with mind distraught
Clings to the dying in a last embrace.
The matrons laid aside their wonted garb:
Crowds filled the temples—on the unpitying stones
Some dashed their bosoms; others bathed with tears
The statues of the gods; some tore their hair
Upon the holy threshold, and with shrieks
And vows unceasing called upon the names
Of those whom mortals supplicate. Nor all 40
Lay in the Thunderer's fane: at every shrine
Some prayers are offered which refused shall bring
Reproach on heaven. One whose livid arms
Were dark with blows, whose cheeks with tears bedewed
And riven, cried, 'Beat, mothers, beat the breast,
'Tear now the lock; while doubtful in the scales
'Still fortune hangs, nor yet the fight is won,
'You still may grieve: when either wins rejoice.'
Thus sorrow stirs itself.
Meanwhile the men
Seeking the camp and setting forth to war, 50
Address the cruel gods in just complaint.
'Happy the youths who born in Punic days
'On Cannæ's uplands or by Trebia's stream
'Fought and were slain! What wretched lot is ours!
'No peace we ask for: let the nations rage;
'Rouse fiercest cities! may the world find arms
'To wage a war with Rome: let Parthian hosts
'Rush forth from Susa; Scythian Ister curb
'No more the Massagete: unconquered Rhine
'Let loose from furthest North her fair-haired tribes: 60
'Elbe, pour thy Suevians forth! Let us be foes
'Of all the peoples. May the Getan press
'Here, and the Dacian there; Pompeius meet
'The Eastern archers, Cæsar in the West
'Confront th' Iberian. Leave to Rome no hand
'To raise against herself in civil strife.
'Or, if Italia by the gods be doomed,
'Let all the sky, fierce Parent, be dissolved
'And falling on the earth in flaming bolts,
'Their hands still bloodless, strike both leaders down, 70
'With both their hosts! Why plunge in novel crime
'To settle which of them shall rule in Rome?
'Scarce were it worth the price of civil war
'To hinder either.' Thus the patriot voice
Still found an utterance, soon to speak no more.
Meantime, the aged fathers o'er their fates
In anguish grieved, detesting life prolonged
That brought with it another civil war.
And thus spake one, to justify his fears:
'No other deeds the fates laid up in store 80
'When Marius,[1] victor over Teuton hosts,
'Afric's high conqueror, cast out from Rome,
'Lay hid in marshy ooze, at thy behest,
'O Fortune! by the yielding soil concealed
'And waving rushes; but ere long the chains
'Of prison wore his weak and aged frame,
'And lengthened squalor: thus he paid for crime
'His punishment beforehand; doomed to die
'Consul in triumph over wasted Rome.
'Death oft refused him; and the very foe, 90
'In act to murder, shuddered in the stroke
'And dropped the weapon from his nerveless hand.
'For through the prison gloom a flame of light
'He saw; the deities of crime abhorred;
'The Marius to come. A voice proclaimed
'Mysterious, 'Hold! the fates permit thee not
'"That neck to sever. Many a death he owes
'"To time's predestined laws ere his shall come;
'"Cease from thy madness. If ye seek revenge
'"For all the blood shed by your slaughtered tribes to 100
'"Let this man, Cimbrians, live out all his days."
'Not as their darling did the gods protect
'The man of blood, but for his ruthless hand
'Fit to prepare that sacrifice of gore
'Which fate demanded. By the sea's despite
'Borne to our foes, Jugurtha's wasted realm
'He saw, now conquered; there in squalid huts
'Awhile he lay, and trod the hostile dust
'Of Carthage, and his ruin matched with hers:
'Each from the other's fate some solace drew, 110
'And prostrate, pardoned heaven. On Libyan soil[2]
'Fresh fury gathering,[3] next, when Fortune smiled
'The prisons he threw wide and freed the slaves.
'Forth rushed the murderous bands, their melted chains
'Forged into weapons for his ruffian needs.
'No charge he gave to mere recruits in guilt
'Who brought not to the camp some proof of crime.
'How dread that day when conquering Marius seized
'The city's ramparts! with what fated speed
'Death strode upon his victims! plebs alike 120
'And nobles perished; far and near the sword
'Struck at his pleasure, till the temple floors
'Ran wet with slaughter and the crimson stream
'Befouled with slippery gore the holy walls.
'No age found pity men of failing years,
'Just tottering to the grave, were hurled to death;
'From infants, in their being's earliest dawn,[4]
'The growing life was severed. For what crime?
''Twas cause enough for death that they could die.
'The fury grew: soon 'twas a sluggard's part 130
'To seek the guilty: hundreds died to swell
'The tale of victims. Shamed by empty hands,
'The bloodstained conqueror snatched a reeking head
'From neck unknown. One way of life remained,
'To kiss with shuddering lips the red right hand.[5]
'Degenerate people! Had ye hearts of men,
'Though ye were threatened by a thousand swords,
'Far rather death than centuries of life
'Bought at such price; much more that breathing space
'Till Sulla comes again.[6] But time would fail 140
'In weeping for the deaths of all who fell.
'Encircled by innumerable bands
'Fell Bæbius, his limbs asunder torn,
'His vitals dragged abroad. Antonius too,
'Prophet of ill, whose hoary head[7] was placed,
'Dripping with blood, upon the festal board.
'There headless fell the Crassi; mangled frames
''Neath Fimbria's falchion: and the prison cells
'Were wet with tribunes' blood. Hard by the fane
'Where dwells the goddess and the sacred fire, 150
'Fell aged Scævola, though that gory hand[8]
'Had spared him, but the feeble tide of blood
'Still left the flame alive upon the hearth.
'That selfsame year the seventh time restored[9]
'The Consul's rods; that year to Marius brought
'The end of life, when he at Fortune's hands
'All ills had suffered; all her goods enjoyed.
'And what of those who at the Sacriport[10]
'And Colline gate were slain, then, when the rule
'Of Earth and all her nations almost left 160
'This city for another, and the chiefs
'Who led the Samnite hoped that Rome might bleed
'More than at Caudium's Forks she bled of old?
'Then came great Sulla to avenge the dead,
'And all the blood still left within her frame
'Drew from the city; for the surgeon knife
'Which shore the cancerous limbs cut in too deep,
'And shed the life stream from still healthy veins.
'True that the guilty fell, but not before
'All else had perished. Hatred had free course 170
'And anger reigned unbridled by the law.
'The victor's voice spake once; but each man struck
'Just as he wished or willed. The fatal steel
'Urged by the servant laid the master low.
'Sons dripped with gore of sires; and brothers fought
'For the foul trophy of a father slain,
'Or slew each other for the price of blood.
'Men sought the tombs and, mingling with the dead,
'Hoped for escape; the wild beasts' dens were full.
'One strangled died; another from the height 180
'Fell headlong down upon the unpitying earth,
'And from the encrimsoned victor snatched his death:
'One built his funeral pyre and oped his veins,
'And sealed the furnace ere his blood was gone.
'Borne through the trembling town the leaders' heads
'Were piled in middle forum: hence men knew
'Of murders else unpublished. Not on gates
'Of Diomedes,[11] tyrant king of Thrace,
'Nor of Antæus, Libya's giant brood,
'Were hung such horrors; nor in Pisa's hall 190
'Were seen and wept for when the suitors died.
'Decay had touched the features of the slain
'When round the mouldering heap, with trembling steps
'The grief-struck parents sought and stole their dead.
'I, too, the body of my brother slain
'Thought to remove, my victim to the peace
'Which Sulla made, and place his loved remains
'On the forbidden pyre. The head I found,
'But not the butchered corse.
'Why now renew
'The tale of Catulus's shade appeased? 200
'And those dread tortures which the living frame
'Of Marius[12] suffered at the tomb of him
'Who haply wished them not? Pierced, mangled, torn —
'Nor speech nor grasp was left: his every limb
'Maimed, hacked and riven; yet the fatal blow
'The murderers with savage purpose spared.
''Twere scarce believed that one poor mortal frame
'Such agonies could bear e'er death should come.
'Thus crushed beneath some ruin lie the dead;
'Thus shapeless from the deep are borne the drowned. 210
'Why spoil delight by mutilating thus,
'The head of Marius? To please Sulla's heart
'That mangled visage must be known to all.
'Fortune, high goddess of Præneste's fane,
'Saw all her townsmen hurried to their deaths
'In one fell instant. All the hope of Rome,
'The flower of Latium, stained with blood the field
'Where once the peaceful tribes their votes declared.
'Famine and Sword, the raging sky and sea,
'And Earth upheaved, have laid such numbers low: 220
'But ne'er one man's revenge. Between the slain
'And living victims there was space no more,
'Death thus let slip, to deal the fatal blow.
'Hardly when struck they fell; the severed head
'Scarce toppled from the shoulders; but the slain
'Blent in a weighty pile of massacre
'Pressed out the life and helped the murderer's arm.
'Secure from stain upon his lofty throne,
'Unshuddering sat the author of the whole,
'Nor feared that at his word such thousands fell. 230
'At length the Tuscan flood received the dead—
'The first upon his waves; the last on those
'That lay beneath them; vessels in their course
'Were stayed, and while the lower current flowed
'Still to the sea, the upper stood on high
'Dammed back by carnage. Through the streets meanwhile
'In headlong torrents ran a tide of blood,
'Which furrowing its path through town and field
'Forced the slow river on. But now his banks
'No longer held him, and the dead were thrown 240
'Back on the fields above. With labour huge
'At length he struggled to his goal and stretched
'In crimson streak across the Tuscan sea.
'For deeds like these, shall Sulla now be styled
'"Darling of Fortune", "Saviour of the State"?
'For these, a tomb in middle field of Mars
'Record his fame? Like horrors now return
'For us to suffer; and the civil war
'Thus shall be waged again and thus shall end.
'Yet worse disasters may our fears suggest, 250
'For now with greater carnage of mankind
'The rival hosts in weightier battle meet.
'To exiled Marius, successful strife
'Was Rome regained; triumphant Sulla knew
'No greater joy than on his hated foes
'To wreak his vengeance with unsparing sword.
'But these more powerful rivals Fortune calls
'To worse ambitions; nor would either chief
'For such reward as Sulla's wage the war.'
Thus, mindful of his youth, the aged man 260
Wept for the past, but feared the coming days.
Such terrors found in haughty Brutus' breast
No home. When others sat them down to fear
He did not so, but in the dewy night
When the great wain was turning round the pole
He sought his kinsman Cato's humble home.
Him sleepless did he find, not for himself
Fearing, but pondering the fates of Rome,
And deep in public cares. And thus he spake:
'O thou in whom that virtue, which of yore 270
'Took flight from earth, now finds its only home,
'Outcast to all besides, but safe with thee:
'Vouchsafe thy counsel to my wavering soul
'And make my weakness strength. While Cæsar some,
'Pompeius others, follow in the fight,
'Cato is Brutus' guide. Art thou for peace,
'Holding thy footsteps in a tottering world
'Unshaken? Or wilt thou with the leaders' crimes
'And with the people's fury take thy part,
'nd by thy presence purge the war of guilt? 280
'In impious battles men unsheath the sword;
'But each by cause impelled: the household crime;
'Laws feared in peace; want by the sword removed;
'And broken credit, that its ruin hides
'In general ruin. Drawn by hope of gain,
'And not by thirst for blood, they seek the camp.
'Shall Cato for war's sake make war alone?
'What profits it through all these wicked years
'That thou hast lived untainted? This were all
'Thy meed of virtue, that the wars which find 290
'Guilt in all else, shall make thee guilty too.
'Ye gods, permit not that this fatal strife
'Should stir those hands to action! When the clouds
'Of flying javelins hiss upon the air,
'Let not a dart be thine; nor spent in vain
'Such virtue! All the fury of the war
'Shall launch itself on thee, for who, when faint
'And wounded, would not rush upon thy sword,
'Take thence his death, and make the murder thine?
'Do thou live on thy peaceful life apart 300
'As on their paths the stars unshaken roll.
'The lower air that verges on the earth
'Gives flame and fury to the levin bolt;
'The deeps below the world engulph the winds
'And tracts of flaming fire. By Jove's decree
'Olympus rears his summit o'er the clouds:
'In lowlier valleys storms and winds contend,
'But peace eternal reigns upon the heights.
'What joy for Cæsar, if the tidings come
'That such a citizen has joined the war? 310
'Glad would he see thee e'en in Magnus' tents;
'For Cato's conduct shall approve his own.
'Pompeius, with the Consul in his ranks,
'And half the Senate and the other chiefs,
'Vexes my spirit; and should Cato too
'Bend to a master's yoke, in all the world
'The one man free is Cæsar. But if thou
'For freedom and thy country's laws alone
'Be pleased to raise the sword, nor Magnus then
'Nor Cæsar shall in Brutus find a foe. 320
'Not till the fight is fought shall Brutus strike,
'Then strike the victor.'
Brutus thus; but spake
Cato from inmost breast these sacred words:
'Chief in all wickedness is civil war,
'Yet virtue in the paths marked out by fate
'Treads on securely. Heaven's will be the crime
'To have made even Cato guilty. Who has strength
'To gaze unawed upon a toppling world?
'When stars and sky fall headlong, and when earth
'Slips from her base, who sits with folded hands? 330
'Shall unknown nations, touched by western strife,
'And monarchs born beneath another clime
'Brave the dividing seas to join the war?
'Shall Scythian tribes desert their distant north,
'And Getæ haste to view the fall of Rome,
'And I look idly on? As some fond sire,
'Reft of his sons, compelled by grief, himself
'Marshals the long procession to the tomb,
'Thrusts his own hand within the funeral flames,
'Soothing his heart, and, as the lofty pyre 340
'Rises on high, applies the kindled torch:
'Nought, Rome, shall tear thee from me, till I hold
'Thy form in death embraced; and Freedom's name,
'Shade though it be, I'll follow to the grave.
'Yea! let the cruel gods exact in full
'Rome's expiation: of no drop of blood
'The war be robbed. I would that, to the gods
'Of heaven and hell devoted, this my life
'Might satisfy their vengeance. Decius fell,
'Crushed by the hostile ranks. When Cato falls 350
'Let Rhine's fierce barbarous hordes and both the hosts
'Thrust through my frame their darts! May I alone
'Receive in death the wounds of all the war!
'Thus may the people be redeemed, and thus
'Rome for her guilt pay the atonement due.
'Why should men die who wish to bear the yoke
'And shrink not from the tyranny to come?
'Strike me, and me alone, of laws and rights
'In vain the guardian: this vicarious life
'Shall give Hesperia peace and end her toils. 360
'Who then will reign shall find no need for war.
'You ask, 'Why follow Magnus? If he wins[13]
'He too will claim the Empire of the world.'
'Then let him, conquering with my service, learn
'Not for himself to conquer.' Thus he spoke
And stirred the blood that ran in Brutus' veins
Moving the youth to action in the war.
Soon as the sun dispelled the chilly night,
The sounding doors flew wide, and from the tomb
Of dead Hortensius grieving Marcia came.[14] 370
First joined in wedlock to a greater man
Three children did she bear to grace his home:
Then Cato to Hortensius gave the dame
To be a fruitful mother of his sons
And join their houses in a closer tie.
And now the last sad offices were done
She came with hair dishevelled, beaten breast,
And ashes on her brow, and features worn
With grief; thus only pleasing to the man.
'When youth was in me and maternal power 380
'I did thy bidding, Cato, and received
'A second husband: now in years grown old
'Ne'er to be parted I return to thee.
'Renew our former pledges undefiled:
'Give back the name of wife: upon my tomb
'Let 'Marcia, spouse to Cato,' be engraved.
'Nor let men question in the time to come,
'Did'st thou compel, or did I willing leave
'My first espousals. Not in happy times,
'Partner of joys, I come; but days of care 390
'And labour shall be mine to share with thee.
'Nor leave me here, but take me to the camp,
'Thy fond companion: why should Magnus' wife
'Be nearer, Cato, to the wars than thine?"
Although the times were warlike and the fates
Called to the fray, he lent a willing ear.
Yet must they plight their faith in simple form
Of law; their witnesses the gods alone.
No festal wreath of flowers crowned the gate
Nor glittering fillet on each post entwined; 400
No flaming torch was there, nor ivory steps,
No couch with robes of broidered gold adorned;
No comely matron placed upon her brow
The bridal garland, or forbad the foot[15]
To touch the threshold stone; no saffron veil
Concealed the timid blushes of the bride;
No jewelled belt confined her flowing robe[16]
Nor modest circle bound her neck; no scarf
Hung lightly on the snowy shoulder's edge
Around the naked arm. Just as she came, 410
Wearing the garb of sorrow, while the wool
Covered the purple border of her robe,
Thus was she wedded. As she greets her sons
So doth she greet her husband. Festal games
Graced not their nuptials, nor were friends and kin
As by the Sabines bidden: silent both
They joined in marriage, yet content, unseen
By any save by Brutus. Sad and stern
On Cato's lineaments the marks of grief
Were still unsoftened, and the hoary hair 420
Hung o'er his reverend visage; for since first
Men flew to arms, his locks were left unkempt
To stream upon his brow, and on his chin
His beard untended grew. 'Twas his alone
Who hated not, nor loved, for all mankind
To mourn alike. Nor did their former couch
Again receive them, for his lofty soul
E'en lawful love resisted. 'Twas his rule
Inflexible, to keep the middle path
Marked out and bounded; to observe the laws 430
Of natural right; and for his country's sake
To risk his life, his all, as not for self
Brought into being, but for all the world:
Such was his creed. To him a sumptuous feast
Was hunger conquered, and the lowly hut,
Which scarce kept out the winter, was a home
Equal to palaces: a robe of price
Such hairy garments as were worn of old:
The end of marriage, offspring. To the State
Father alike and husband, right and law 440
He ever followed with unswerving step:
No thought of selfish pleasure turned the scale
In Cato's acts, or swayed his upright soul.
Meanwhile Pompeius led his trembling host
To fields Campanian, and held the walls
First founded by the chief of Trojan race.[17]
These chose he for the central seat of war,
Some troops despatching who might meet the foe
Where shady Apennine lifts up the ridge
Of mid Italia; nearest to the sky 450
Upsoaring, with the seas on either hand,
The upper and the lower. Pisa's sands
Breaking the margin of the Tuscan deep,
Here bound his mountains: there Ancona's towers
Laved by Dalmatian waves. Rivers immense,
In his recesses born, pass on their course,
To either sea diverging. To the left
Metaurus, and Crustumium's torrent, fall
And Sena's streams and Aufidus who bursts
On Adrian billows; and that mighty flood 460
Which, more than all the rivers of the earth,
Sweeps down the soil and tears the woods away
And drains Hesperia's springs. In fabled lore
His banks were first by poplar shade enclosed:[18]
And when by Phæthon the waning day
Was drawn in path transverse, and all the heaven
Blazed with his car aflame, and from the depths
Of inmost earth were rapt all other floods,
Padus still rolled in pride of stream along.
Nile were no larger, but that o'er the sand 470
Of level Egypt he spreads out his waves;
Nor Ister, if he sought the Scythian main
Unhelped upon his journey through the world
By tributary waters not his own.
But on the right hand Tiber has his source,
Deep-flowing Rutuba, Vulturnus swift,
And Sarnus breathing vapours of the night
Rise there, and Liris with Vestinian wave
Still gliding through Marica's shady grove,
And Siler flowing through Salernian meads: 480
And Macra's swift unnavigable stream
By Luna lost in Ocean. On the Alps
Whose spurs strike plainwards, and on fields of Gaul
The cloudy heights of Apennine look down
In further distance: on his nearer slopes
The Sabine turns the ploughshare; Umbrian kine
And Marsian fatten; with his pineclad rocks
He girds the tribes of Latium, nor leaves
Hesperia's soil until the waves that beat
On Scylla's cave compel. His southern spurs 490
Extend to Juno's temple, and of old
Stretched further than Italia, till the main
O'erstepped his limits and the lands repelled.
But, when the seas were joined, Pelorus claimed
His latest summits for Sicilia's isle.
Cæsar, in rage for war, rejoicing found
Foes in Italia; no bloodless steps
Nor vacant homes had pleased him;[19] so his march
Were wasted: now the coming war was joined
Unbroken to the past; to force the gates 500
Not find them open, fire and sword to bring
Upon the harvests, not through fields unharmed
To pass his legions—this was Cæsar's joy;
In peaceful guise to march, this was his shame.
Italia's cities, doubtful in their choice,
Though to the earliest onset of the war
About to yield, strengthened their walls with mounds
And deepest trench encircling: massive stones
And bolts of war to hurl upon the foe
They place upon the turrets. Magnus most 510
The people's favour held, yet faith with fear
Fought in their breasts. As when, with strident blast,
A southern tempest has possessed the main
And all the billows follow in its track:
Then, by the Storm-king smitten, should the earth
Set Eurus free upon the swollen deep,
It shall not yield to him, though cloud and sky
Confess his strength; but in the former wind
Still find its master. But their fears prevailed,
And Cæsar's fortune, o'er their wavering faith. 520
For Libo fled Etruria; Umbria lost
Her freedom, driving Thermus[20] from her bounds;
Great Sulla's son, unworthy of his sire,
Feared at the name of Cæsar: Varus sought
The caves and woods, when smote the hostile horse
The gates of Auximon; and Spinther driven
From Asculum, the victor on his track,
Fled with his standards, soldierless; and thou,
Scipio, did'st leave Nuceria's citadel
Deserted, though by bravest legions held 530
Sent home by Cæsar for the Parthian war;[21]
Whom Magnus earlier, to his kinsman gave
A loan of Roman blood, to fight the Gaul.
But brave Domitius held firm his post[22]
Behind Corfinium's ramparts; his the troops
Who newly levied kept the judgment hall
At Milo's trial.[23] When from far the plain
Rolled up a dusty cloud, beneath whose veil
The sheen of armour glistening in the sun,
Revealed a marching host. "Dash down," he cried, 540
'Swift as ye can, the bridge that spans the stream;
'And thou, O river, from thy mountain source
'With all thy torrents rushing, planks and beams
'Ruined and broken on thy foaming breast
'Bear onward to the sea. The war shall stop
'Here, to our triumph; for this headlong chief
'Here first at our firm bidding shall be stayed.'
He bade his squadrons, speeding from the walls,
Charge on the bridge: in vain: for Cæsar saw
They sought to free the river from his chains[24] 550
And bar his march; and roused to ire, he cried:
'Were not the walls sufficient to protect
'Your coward souls? Seek ye by barricades
'And streams to keep me back? What though the flood
'Of swollen Ganges were across my path?
'Now Rubicon is passed, no stream on earth
'Shall hinder Cæsar! Forward, horse and foot,
'And ere it totters rush upon the bridge.'
Urged in their swiftest gallop to the front
Dashed the light horse across the sounding plain; 560
And suddenly, as storm in summer, flew
A cloud of javelins forth, by sinewy arms
Hurled at the foe; the guard is put to flight,
And conquering Cæsar, seizing on the bridge,
Compels the enemy to keep the walls.
Now do the mighty engines, soon to hurl
Gigantic stones, press forward, and the ram
Creeps 'neath the ramparts; when the gates fly back,
And lo! the traitor troops, foul crime in war,
Yield up their leader. Him they place before 570
His proud compatriot; yet with upright form,
And scornful features and with noble mien,
He asks his death. But Cæsar knew his wish
Was punishment, and pardon was his fear:
'Live though thou would'st not,' so the chieftain spake,
'And by my gift, unwilling, see the day:
'Be to my conquered foes the cause of hope,
'Proof of my clemency—or if thou wilt
'Take arms again—and should'st thou conquer, count
'This pardon nothing.' Thus he spake, and bade 580
Let loose the bands and set the captive free.
Ah! better had he died, and fortune spared
The Roman's last dishonour, whose worse doom
It is, that he who joined his country's camp
And fought with Magnus for the Senate's cause
Should gain for this—a pardon! Yet he curbed
His anger, thinking, 'Wilt thou then to Rome
'And peaceful scenes, degenerate? Rather war,
'The furious battle and the certain end!
'Break with life's ties: be Cæsar's gift in vain.' 590
Pompeius, ignorant that his captain thus
Was taken, armed his levies newly raised
To give his legions strength; and as he thought
To sound his trumpets with the coming dawn,
To test his soldiers ere he moved his camp
Thus in majestic tones their ranks addressed:
'Soldiers of Rome! Avengers of her laws!
'To whom the Senate gives no private arms,
'Ask by your voices for the battle sign.
'Fierce falls the pillage on Hesperian fields, 600
'And Gallia's fury o'er the snowy Alps[25]
'Is poured upon us. Cæsar's swords at last
'Are red with Roman blood. But with the wound
'We gain the better cause; the crime is theirs.
'No war is this, but for offended Rome
'We wreak the vengeance; as when Catiline
'Lifted against her roofs the flaming brand
'And, partner in his fury, Lentulus,
'And mad Cethegus[26] with his naked arm.
'Is such thy madness, Cæsar? when the Fates 610
'With great Camillus' and Metellus' names
'Might place thine own, dost thou prefer to rank
'With Marius and Cinna? Swift shall be
'Thy fall: as Lepidus before the sword
'Of Catulus; or who my axes felt,
'Carbo,[27] now buried in Sicanian tomb;
'Or who, in exile, roused Iberia's hordes,
'Sertorius—yet, witness Heaven, with these
'I hate to rank thee; hate the task that Rome
'Has laid upon me, to oppose thy rage. 620
'Would that in safety from the Parthian war
'And Scythian steppes had conquering Crassus come!
'Then haply had'st thou fallen by the hand
'That smote vile Spartacus the robber foe.
'But if among my triumphs fate has said
'Thy conquest shall be written, know this heart
'Still sends the life blood coursing: and this arm[28]
'Still vigorously flings the dart afield.
'He deems me slothful. Cæsar, thou shalt learn
'We brook not peace because we lag in war. 630
'Old, does he call me? Fear not ye mine age.
'Let me be elder, if his soldiers are.
'The highest point a citizen can reach
'And leave his people free, is mine: a throne
'Alone were higher; whoso would surpass
'Pompeius, aims at that. Both Consuls stand
'Here; here for battle stand your lawful chiefs:
'And shall this Cæsar drag the Senate down?
'Not with such blindness, not so lost to shame
'Does Fortune rule. Does he take heart from Gaul: 640
'For years on years rebellious, and a life
'Spent there in labour? or because he fled
'Rhine's icy torrent and the shifting pools
'He calls an ocean? or unchallenged sought
'Britannia's cliffs; then turned his back in flight?
'Or does he boast because his citizens
'Were driven in arms to leave their hearths and homes?
'Ah, vain delusion! not from thee they fled:
'My steps they follow—mine, whose conquering signs
'Swept all the ocean,[29] and who, ere the moon 650
'Twice filled her orb and waned, compelled to flight
'The pirate, shrinking from the open sea,
'And humbly begging for a narrow home
'In some poor nook on shore. 'Twas I again
'Who, happier far than Sulla, drave to death[30]
'That king who, exiled to the deep recess
'Of Scythian Pontus, held the fates of Rome
'Still in the balances. Where is the land
'That hath not seen my trophies? Icy waves
'Of northern Phasis, hot Egyptian shores, 660
'And where Syene 'neath its noontide sun
'Knows shade on neither hand:[31] all these have learned
'To fear Pompeius: and far Bætis'[32] stream,
'Last of all floods to join the refluent sea.
'Arabia and the warlike hordes that dwell
'Beside the Euxine wave: the famous land
'That lost the Golden Fleece; Cilician wastes,
'And Cappadocian, and the Jews who pray
'Before an unknown God; Sophene soft—
'All felt my yoke. What conquests now remain, 670
'What wars not civil can my kinsman wage?'
No loud acclaim received his words, nor shout
Asked for the promised battle: and the chief
Drew back the standards, for the soldier's fears
Were in his soul alike; nor dared he trust
An army, vanquished by the fame alone
Of Cæsar's powers, to fight for such a prize.
And as some bull, his early combat lost,
Forth driven from the herd, in exile roams
Through lonely plains or secret forest depths, 680
Whets on opposing trunks his growing horn,
And proves himself for battle, till his neck
Is ribbed afresh with muscle: then returns,
Defiant of the hind, and victor now
Leads wheresoe'er he will his lowing bands:
Thus Magnus, yielding to a stronger foe,
Gave up Italia, and sought in flight
Brundusium's sheltering battlements.
Here of old
Fled Cretan settlers when the dusky sail[33]
Spread the false message of the hero dead; 690
Here, where Hesperia, curving as a bow,
Draws back her coast, a little tongue of land
Shuts in with bending horns the sounding main.
Yet insecure the spot, unsafe in storm,
Were it not sheltered by an isle on which
The Adriatic billows dash and fall,
And tempests lose their strength: on either hand
A craggy cliff opposing breaks the gale
That beats upon them, while the ships within
Held by their trembling cables ride secure. 700
Hence to the mariner the boundless deep
Lies open, whether for Corcyra's port
He shapes his sails, or for Illyria's shore,
And Epidamnus facing to the main
Ionian. Here, when raging in his might
Fierce Adria whelms in foam Calabria's coast,
When clouds tempestuous veil Ceraunus' height,
The sailor finds a haven.
When the chief
Could find no hope in battle on the soil
He now was quitting, and the lofty Alps 710
Forbad Iberia, to his son he spake,
The eldest scion of that noble stock:
'Search out the far recesses of the earth,
'Nile and Euphrates, wheresoe'er the fame
'Of Magnus lives, where, through thy father's deeds,
'The people tremble at the name of Rome.
'Lead to the sea again the pirate bands;
'Rouse Egypt's kings; Tigranes, wholly mine,
'And Pharnaces and all the vagrant tribes
'Of both Armenias; and the Pontic hordes, 720
'Warlike and fierce; the dwellers on the hills
'Rhipæan, and by that dead northern marsh
'Whose frozen surface bears the loaded wain.
'Why further stay thee? Let the eastern world
'Sound with the war, all cities of the earth
'Conquered by me, as vassals, to my camp
'Send all their levied hosts. And you whose names
'Within the Latian book recorded stand,
'Strike for Epirus with the northern wind;
'And thence in Greece and Macedonian tracts, 730
'(While winter gives us peace) new strength acquire
'For coming conflicts.' They obey his words
And loose their ships and launch upon the main.
But Cæsar's might, intolerant of peace
Or lengthy armistice, lest now perchance
The fates might change their edicts, swift pursued
The footsteps of his foe. To other men,
So many cities taken at a blow,
So many strongholds captured, might suffice;
And Rome herself, the mistress of the world, 740
Lay at his feet, the greatest prize of all.
Not so with Cæsar: instant on the goal
He fiercely presses; thinking nothing done
While aught remained to do. Now in his grasp
Lay all Italia;—but while Magnus stayed
Upon the utmost shore, his grieving soul
Deemed all was shared with him. Yet he essayed
Escape to hinder, and with labour vain
Piled in the greedy main gigantic rocks:
Mountains of earth down to the sandy depths 750
Were swallowed by the vortex of the sea;
Just as if Eryx and its lofty top
Were cast into the deep, yet not a speck
Should mark the watery plain; or Gaurus huge
Split from his summit to his base, were plunged
In fathomless Avernus' stagnant pool.
The billows thus unstemmed, 'twas Cæsar's will
To hew the stately forests and with trees
Enchained to form a rampart. Thus of old
(If fame be true) the boastful Persian king 760
Prepared a way across the rapid strait
'Twixt Sestos and Abydos, and made one
The European and the Trojan shores;
And marched upon the waters, wind and storm
Counting as nought, but trusting his emprise
To one frail bridge, so that his ships might pass
Through middle Athos. Thus a mighty mole
Of fallen forests grew upon the waves,
Free until then, and lofty turrets rose,
And land usurped the entrance to the main. 770
This when Pompeius saw, with anxious care
His soul was filled; yet hoping to regain
The exit lost, and win a wider world
Wherein to wage the war, on chosen ships
He hoists the sails; these, driven by the wind
And drawn by cables fastened to their prows,
Scattered the beams asunder; and at night
Not seldom engines, worked by stalwart arms,
Flung flaming torches forth. But when the time
For secret flight was come, no sailor shout 780
Rang on the shore, no trumpet marked the hour,
No bugle called the armament to sea.
Already shone the Virgin in the sky
Leading the Scorpion in her course, whose claws
Foretell the rising Sun, when noiseless all
They cast the vessels loose; no song was heard
To greet the anchor wrenched from stubborn sand;
No captain's order, when the lofty mast
Was raised, or yards were bent; a silent crew
Drew down the sails which hung upon the ropes, 790
Nor shook the mighty cables, lest the wind
Should sound upon them. But the chief, in prayer,
Thus spake to Fortune: 'Thou whose high decree
'Has made us exiles from Italia's shores,
'Grant us at least to leave them.' Yet the fates
Hardly permitted, for a murmur vast
Came from the ocean, as the countless keels
Furrowed the waters, and with ceaseless splash
The parted billows rose again and fell.
Then were the gates thrown wide; for with the fates 800
The city turned to Cæsar: and the foe,
Seizing the town, rushed onward by the pier
That circled in the harbour; then they knew
With shame and sorrow that the fleet was gone
And held the open: and Pompeius' flight
Gave a poor triumph.
Yet was narrower far
The channel which gave access to the sea
Than that Eubœan strait[34] whose waters lave
The shore by Chalcis. Here two ships stuck fast
Alone, of all the fleet; the fatal hook 810
Grappled their decks and drew them to the land,
And the first bloodshed of the civil war
Here left a blush upon the ocean wave.
As when the famous ship[35] sought Phasis' stream
The rocky gates closed in and hardly gripped
Her flying stern; then from the empty sea
The cliffs rebounding to their ancient seat
Were fixed to move no more. But now the steps
Of morn approaching tinged the eastern sky
With roseate hues: the Pleiades were dim, 820
The wagon of the Charioteer grew pale,
The planets faded, and the silvery star
Which ushers in the day, was lost in light.
Thou Magnus, hold'st the deep; yet not the same
Now are thy fates, as when from every sea
Thy fleet triumphant swept the pirate pest.
Tired of thy conquests, Fortune now no more
Shall smile upon thee. With thy spouse and sons,
Thy household gods, and peoples in thy train,
Still great in exile, in a distant land 830
Thou seek'st thy fated fall; not that the gods,
Wishing to rob thee of a Roman grave,
Decreed the strands of Egypt for thy tomb:
'Twas Italy they spared, that far away
Fortune on shores remote might hide her crime,
And Roman soil be pure of Magnus' blood.
Or lengthy armistice, lest now perchance
The fates might change their edicts, swift pursued
The footsteps of his foe. To other men,
So many cities taken at a blow,
So many strongholds captured, might suffice;
And Rome herself, the mistress of the world, 740
Lay at his feet, the greatest prize of all.
Not so with Cæsar: instant on the goal
He fiercely presses; thinking nothing done
While aught remained to do. Now in his grasp
Lay all Italia;—but while Magnus stayed
Upon the utmost shore, his grieving soul
Deemed all was shared with him. Yet he essayed
Escape to hinder, and with labour vain
Piled in the greedy main gigantic rocks:
Mountains of earth down to the sandy depths 750
Were swallowed by the vortex of the sea;
Just as if Eryx and its lofty top
Were cast into the deep, yet not a speck
Should mark the watery plain; or Gaurus huge
Split from his summit to his base, were plunged
In fathomless Avernus' stagnant pool.
The billows thus unstemmed, 'twas Cæsar's will
To hew the stately forests and with trees
Enchained to form a rampart. Thus of old
(If fame be true) the boastful Persian king 760
Prepared a way across the rapid strait
'Twixt Sestos and Abydos, and made one
The European and the Trojan shores;
And marched upon the waters, wind and storm
Counting as nought, but trusting his emprise
To one frail bridge, so that his ships might pass
Through middle Athos. Thus a mighty mole
Of fallen forests grew upon the waves,
Free until then, and lofty turrets rose,
And land usurped the entrance to the main. 770
This when Pompeius saw, with anxious care
His soul was filled; yet hoping to regain
The exit lost, and win a wider world
Wherein to wage the war, on chosen ships
He hoists the sails; these, driven by the wind
And drawn by cables fastened to their prows,
Scattered the beams asunder; and at night
Not seldom engines, worked by stalwart arms,
Flung flaming torches forth. But when the time
For secret flight was come, no sailor shout 780
Rang on the shore, no trumpet marked the hour,
No bugle called the armament to sea.
Already shone the Virgin in the sky
Leading the Scorpion in her course, whose claws
Foretell the rising Sun, when noiseless all
They cast the vessels loose; no song was heard
To greet the anchor wrenched from stubborn sand;
No captain's order, when the lofty mast
Was raised, or yards were bent; a silent crew
Drew down the sails which hung upon the ropes, 790
Nor shook the mighty cables, lest the wind
Should sound upon them. But the chief, in prayer,
Thus spake to Fortune: 'Thou whose high decree
'Has made us exiles from Italia's shores,
'Grant us at least to leave them.' Yet the fates
Hardly permitted, for a murmur vast
Came from the ocean, as the countless keels
Furrowed the waters, and with ceaseless splash
The parted billows rose again and fell.
Then were the gates thrown wide; for with the fates 800
The city turned to Cæsar: and the foe,
Seizing the town, rushed onward by the pier
That circled in the harbour; then they knew
With shame and sorrow that the fleet was gone
And held the open: and Pompeius' flight
Gave a poor triumph.
Yet was narrower far
The channel which gave access to the sea
Than that Eubœan strait[34] whose waters lave
The shore by Chalcis. Here two ships stuck fast
Alone, of all the fleet; the fatal hook 810
Grappled their decks and drew them to the land,
And the first bloodshed of the civil war
Here left a blush upon the ocean wave.
As when the famous ship[35] sought Phasis' stream
The rocky gates closed in and hardly gripped
Her flying stern; then from the empty sea
The cliffs rebounding to their ancient seat
Were fixed to move no more. But now the steps
Of morn approaching tinged the eastern sky
With roseate hues: the Pleiades were dim, 820
The wagon of the Charioteer grew pale,
The planets faded, and the silvery star
Which ushers in the day, was lost in light.
Thou Magnus, hold'st the deep; yet not the same
Now are thy fates, as when from every sea
Thy fleet triumphant swept the pirate pest.
Tired of thy conquests, Fortune now no more
Shall smile upon thee. With thy spouse and sons,
Thy household gods, and peoples in thy train,
Still great in exile, in a distant land 830
Thou seek'st thy fated fall; not that the gods,
Wishing to rob thee of a Roman grave,
Decreed the strands of Egypt for thy tomb:
'Twas Italy they spared, that far away
Fortune on shores remote might hide her crime,
And Roman soil be pure of Magnus' blood.
- ↑ When dragged from his hiding place in the marsh, Marius was sent by the magistrates of Minturnæ to the house of a woman named Fannia, and there locked up in a dark apartment. It does not appear that he was there long. A Gallic soldier was sent to kill him; 'and the eyes of Marius appeared to him to dart a strong flame, and a loud voice issued from the gloom, "Man, do you dare to kill Caius Marius? "' He rushed out exclaiming, 'I cannot kill Caius Marius.' (Plutarch, 'Marius,' 38.
- ↑ The Governor of Libya sent an officer to Marius, who had landed in the neighbourhood of Carthage. The officer delivered his message, and Marine replied, ‘Tell the Governor you have seen Caius Marius, a fugitive sitting on the ruins of Carthage,' a reply in which he not inaptly compared the fate of that city and his own changed fortune. (Plutarch, ‘ Marius,' 40.)
- ↑ In the ‘gathering of fresh fury on Libyan soil,' there appears to be an allusion to the story of Antæus, in Book IV.
- ↑ See Ben Jonson's ‘Catiline,' Act i., scene 1, speaking of the Sullan massacre.Cethegus. Not infants in the porch of life were free.
*********
Catiline. 'Twas crime enough that they had lives: to strike but only
those that could do hurt was dull and poor: some fell to make the number
as some the prey. - ↑ Whenever he did not salute a man, or return his salute, this was a signal for massacre. (Plutarch, ‘Marius,' 43.)
- ↑ The Marian massacre was in B.C. 87—86; the Sullar in 82–81.
- ↑ The head of Antonius was struck off and brought to Marins at supper. He was the grandfather of the triumvir.
- ↑ Scævola, it would appear, was put to death after Marius the elder died, by the younger Marius. He was Pontifex Maximus, and slain by the altar of Vesta.
- ↑ B.C. 86, Mariius and Cinna were Consuls. Marius died seventeen days afterwards, in the seventieth year of his age.
- ↑ The Battle of Sacriportus was fought between Marius the younger and the Sullan army in B.C. 82. Marius was defeated with great loss, and fled to Præneste, a town which afterwards submitted to Sulla, who put all the inhabitants to death (line 216). At the Colline gate was fought the decisive battle between Sulla and the Samnites, who, after a furious contest, were defeated.
- ↑ Diomedes was said to feed his horses on human flesh. (For Antæus see Book IV., 660.) Œnomaus was king of Pisa in Elis. Those who came to sue for his daughter's hand had to compete with him in a chariot race, and if defeated were put to death.
- ↑ The brother of the Consul.
- ↑ So Cicero: 'Our Cnæus is wonderfully anxious for such a royalty as Sulla's. I who tell you know it.' ('Ep. ad Att,' ix. 7.)
- ↑ Marcia was first married to Cato, and bore him three sons; he then yielded her to Hortensius. On his death she returned to Cato. (P1utarch, 'Cato,' 25, 52.) It was in reference to this that Cæsar charged him with making a traffic of his marriage; but Plutarch says 'to accuse Cato of filthy lucre is like upbraiding Hercules with cowardice.' After the marriage Marcia remained at Rome while Cato hurried after Pompeius.
- ↑ The bride was carried over the threshold of her new home, for to stumble on it would be of evil omen. Plutarch ('Romulus') refers this custom to the rape of the Sabine women, who were 'so lift up and carried away by force.' (North, volume i., p. 88, Edition by Windham.) I have read 'vetuit' in this passage, though 'vitat' appears to be a better variation according to the manuscripts.
- ↑ The bride was dressed in a long white robe, bound round the waist with a girdle. She had a veil of bright yellow colour. ('Dict. Antiq.')
- ↑ Capua, supposed to be founded by Capys, the Trojan hero. (Virgil, 'Æneid,' x., 145.)
- ↑ Phaethon's sisters, who yoked the horses of the Sun to the chariot for their brother, were turned into poplars. Phaethon was flung by Jupiter into the river Po.
- ↑ See the note to Book I., 164. In reality Cæsar found little resistance, and did not ravage the country.
- ↑ Thermus, to whom Iguvium had been entrusted by the Senate, was compelled to quit it owing to the disaffection of the inhabitants. (Merivale, chapter xiv.) Auximon in a similar way rose against Varus.
- ↑ After Cæsar's campaign with the Nervii, Pompeius had lent him a legion. When the Parthian war broke out and the Senate required each of the two leaders to supply a legion for it, Pompeius demanded the return of the legion which he had sent to Gaul; and Cæsar returned it, together with one of his own. They were, however, retained in Italy.
- ↑ See Book VII., 695.
- ↑ Book I., 368.
- ↑ That is to say, by the breaking of the bridge, the river would become a serious obstacle to Cæsar.
- ↑ See line 497.
- ↑ This family is also alluded to by Horace ('Ars Poetica,' 50) as having worn a garment of ancient fashion leaving their arms bare. (See also Book VI., 945.)
- ↑ In B.C. 77, after the death of Sulla. Carbo had been defeated by Pompeius in 81 B.C., on which occasion Pompeius had, at the early age of twenty-five, demanded and obtained his first triumph. The war with Sertorius lasted till 71 B.C., when Pompeius and Metellus triumphed in respect of his overthrow.
- ↑ See Book I., line 369.
- ↑ In B.C. 67, Pompeius swept the pirates off the seas. The whole campaign did not last three months.
- ↑ From B.C. 66 to B.C. 63, Pompeius conquered Mithridates, Syria, and the East, except Parthia.
- ↑ Being (as was supposed) exactly under the Equator. Syene (the modern Assouan) is the town mentioned by the priest of Sais, who told Herodotus that 'between Syene and Elephantine are two hills with conical tops. The name of one of them is Crophi, and of the other, Mophi. Mid-way between them are the fountains of the Nile.' (Herod., II., chapter 28.) And see 'Paradise Regained,' IV., 70:—
- ↑ Bætis is the Guadalquivir.
- ↑ Theseus, on returning from his successful exploit in Crete, hoisted by mistake black sails instead of white, thus spreading false intelligence of disaster.
- ↑ It seems that the Euripus was bridged over. (Mr. Haskins' note.)
- ↑ The 'Argo.'