Полная версия
Купить и скачатьДобавить В библиотеку
The Works of Christopher Marlowe, Vol. 3 (of 3)
Автор:
Жанр:
Год написания книги: 2018
Тэги:
Настройки чтения
Размер шрифта
Высота строк
Поля
Thine in all rights of perfect friendship,
THOMAS THORPE.THE FIRST BOOK OF LUCAN
Wars worse than civil on Thessalian plains,And outrage strangling law, and people strong,We sing, whose conquering swords their own breasts lancht,579Armies allied, the kingdom's league uprooted,Th' affrighted world's force bent on public spoil,Trumpets and drums, like580 deadly, threatening other,Eagles alike display'd, darts answering darts,Romans, what madness, what huge lust of war,Hath made barbarians drunk with Latin blood?Now Babylon, proud through our spoil, should stoop,While slaughter'd Crassus' ghost walks unreveng'd,Will ye wage war, for which you shall not triumph?Ay me! O, what a world of land and seaMight they have won whom civil broils have slain!As far as Titan springs, where night dims heaven,I, to the torrid zone where mid-day burns,And where stiff winter, whom no spring resolves,Fetters the Euxine Sea with chains of ice;Scythia and wild Armenia had been yok'd,And they of Nilus' mouth, if there live any.Rome, if thou take delight in impious war,First conquer all the earth, then turn thy forceAgainst thyself: as yet thou wants not foes.That now the walls of houses half-reared totter,That, rampires fallen down, huge heaps of stoneLie in our towns, that houses are abandon'd,And few live that behold their ancient seats;Italy many years hath lien untill'dAnd chok'd with thorns; that greedy earth wants hinds;—Fierce Pyrrhus, neither thou nor HannibalArt cause; no foreign foe could so afflict us:These plagues arise from wreak of civil power.But if for Nero, then unborn, the FatesWould find no other means, and gods not slightlyPurchase immortal thrones, nor Jove joy'd heavenUntil the cruel giants' war was done;We plain not, heavens, but gladly bear these evilsFor Nero's sake: Pharsalia groan with slaughter,And Carthage souls be glutted with our bloods!At Munda let the dreadful battles join;Add, Cæsar, to these ills, Perusian famine,The Mutin toils, the fleet at Luca[s] sunk,And cruel581 field near burning Ætna fought!Yet Rome is much bound to these civil arms,Which made thee emperor. Thee (seeing thou, being old,Must shine a star) shall heaven (whom thou lovest)Receive with shouts; where thou wilt reign as king,Or mount the Sun's flame-bearing chariot,And with bright restless fire compass the earth,Undaunted though her former guide be chang'd;Nature and every power shall give thee place,What god it please thee be, or where to sway.But neither choose the north t'erect thy seat,Nor yet the adverse reeking582 southern pole,Whence thou shouldst view thy Rome with squinting583 beams.If any one part of vast heaven thou swayest,The burden'd axes584 with thy force will bend:The midst is best; that place is pure and bright;There, Cæsar, mayst thou shine, and no cloud dim thee.Then men from war shall bide in league and ease,Peace through the world from Janus' face shall fly,And bolt the brazen gates with bars of iron.Thou, Cæsar, at this instant art my god;Thee if I invocate, I shall not needTo crave Apollo's aid or Bacchus' help;Thy power inspires the Muse that sings this war.The causes first I purpose to unfoldOf these garboils,585 whence springs a long discourse;And what made madding people shake off peace.The Fates are envious, high seats586 quickly perish,Under great burdens falls are ever grievous;Rome was so great it could not bear itself.So when this world's compounded union breaks,Time ends, and to old Chaos all things turn,Confused stars shall meet, celestial fireFleet on the floods, the earth shoulder the sea,Affording it no shore, and Phœbe's wainChase Phœbus, and enrag'd affect his place,And strive to shine by day and full of strifeDissolve the engines of the broken world.All great things crush themselves; such end the godsAllot the height of honour; men so strongBy land and sea, no foreign force could ruin.O Rome, thyself art cause of all these evils,Thyself thus shiver'd out to three men's shares!Dire league of partners in a kingdom last not.O faintly-join'd friends, with ambition blind,Why join you force to share the world betwixt you?While th' earth the sea, and air the earth sustains,While Titan strives against the world's swift course,Or Cynthia, night's queen, waits upon the day,Shall never faith be found in fellow kings:Dominion cannot suffer partnership.This need[s] no foreign proof nor far-fet587 story:Rome's infant walls were steep'd in brother's blood;Nor then was land or sea, to breed such hate;A town with one poor church set them at odds.588Cæsar's and Pompey's jarring love soon ended,'Twas peace against their wills; betwixt them bothStepp'd Crassus in. Even as the slender isthmos,Betwixt the Ægæan,589 and the Ionian sea,Keeps each from other, but being worn away,They both burst out, and each encounter other;So whenas Crassus' wretched death, who stay'd them,Had fill'd Assyrian Carra's590 walls with blood,His loss made way for Roman outrages.Parthians, y'afflict us more than ye suppose;Being conquer'd, we are plagu'd with civil war.Swords share our empire: Fortune, that made RomeGovern the earth, the sea, the world itself,Would not admit two lords; for Julia,Snatch'd hence by cruel Fates, with ominous howlsBare down to hell her son, the pledge of peace,And all bands of that death-presaging alliànce.Julia, had heaven given thee longer life,Thou hadst restrain'd thy headstrong husband's rage,Yea, and thy father too, and, swords thrown down,Made all shake hands, as once the Sabines did:Thy death broke amity, and train'd to warThese captains emulous of each other's glory.Thou fear'd'st, great Pompey, that late deeds would dimOld triumphs, and that Cæsar's conquering FranceWould dash the wreath thou war'st for pirates' wreck:Thee war's use stirr'd, and thoughts that always scorn'dA second place. Pompey could bide no equal,Nor Cæsar no superior: which of bothHad justest cause, unlawful 'tis to judge:Each side had great partakers; Cæsar's causeThe gods abetted, Cato lik'd the other.591Both differ'd much. Pompey was struck in years,And by long rest forgot to manage arms,And, being popular, sought by liberal giftsTo gain the light unstable commons' love,And joy'd to hear his theatre's applause:He lived secure, boasting his former deeds,And thought his name sufficient to uphold him:Like to a tall oak in a fruitful field,Bearing old spoils and conquerors' monuments,Who, though his root be weak, and his own weightKeep him within the ground, his arms all bare,His body, not his boughs, send forth a shade;Though every blast it nod,592 and seem to fall,When all the woods about stand bolt upright,Yet he alone is held in reverence.Cæsar's renown for war was loss; he restless,Shaming to strive but where he did subdue;When ire or hope provok'd, heady and bold;At all times charging home, and making havoc;Urging his fortune, trusting in the gods,Destroying what withstood his proud desires,And glad when blood and ruin made him way:So thunder, which the wind tears from the clouds,With crack of riven air and hideous soundFilling the world, leaps out and throws forth fire,Affrights poor fearful men, and blasts their eyesWith overthwarting flames, and raging shootsAlongst the air, and, not resisting it,Falls, and returns, and shivers where it lights.Such humours stirr'd them up; but this war's seedWas even the same that wrecks all great dominions.When Fortune made us lords of all, wealth flow'd,And then we grew licentious and rude;The soldiers' prey and rapine brought in riot;Men took delight in jewels, houses, plate,And scorn'd old sparing diet, and ware robesToo light for women; Poverty, who hatch'dRome's greatest wits,593 was loath'd, and all the worldRansack'd for gold, which breeds the world['s] decay;And then large limits had their butting lands;The ground, which Curius and Camillus till'd,Was stretched unto the fields of hinds unknown.Again, this people could not brook calm peace;Them freedom without war might not suffice:Quarrels were rife; greedy desire, still poor,Did vild deeds; then 'twas worth the price of blood,And deem'd renown, to spoil their native town;Force mastered right, the strongest govern'd all;Hence came it that th' edicts were over-rul'd,That laws were broke, tribunes with consuls strove,Sale made of offices, and people's voicesBought by themselves and sold, and every yearFrauds and corruption in the Field of Mars;Hence interest and devouring usury sprang,Faith's breach, and hence came war, to most men welcome.Now Cæsar overpass'd the snowy Alps;His mind was troubled, and he aim'd at war:And coming to the ford of Rubicon,At night in dreadful vision fearful594 RomeMourning appear'd, whose hoary hairs were torn,And on her turret-bearing head dispers'd,And arms all naked; who, with broken sighs,And staring, thus bespoke: "What mean'st thou, Cæsar?Whither goes my standard? Romans if ye be,And bear true hearts, stay here!" This spectacleStruck Cæsar's heart with fear; his hair stood up,And faintness numb'd his steps there on the brink.He thus cried out: "Thou thunderer that guard'stRome's mighty walls, built on Tarpeian rock!Ye gods of Phrygia and Iülus' line,Quirinus' rites, and Latian Jove advanc'dOn Alba hill! O vestal flames! O Rome,My thoughts sole goddess, aid mine enterprise!I hate thee not, to thee my conquests stoop:Cæsar is thine, so please it thee, thy soldier.He, he afflicts Rome that made me Rome's foe."This said, he, laying aside all lets595 of war,Approach'd the swelling stream with drum and ensign:Like to a lion of scorch'd desert Afric,Who, seeing hunters, pauseth till fell wrathAnd kingly rage increase, then, having whisk'dHis tail athwart his back, and crest heav'd up,With jaws wide-open ghastly roaring out,Albeit the Moor's light javelin or his spearSticks in his side, yet runs upon the hunter.In summer-time the purple Rubicon,Which issues from a small spring, is but shallow,And creeps along the vales, dividing justThe bounds of Italy from Cisalpine France.But now the winter's wrath, and watery moonBeing three days old, enforc'd the flood to swell,And frozen Alps thaw'd with resolving winds.The thunder-hoof'd596 horse, in a crookèd line,To scape the violence of the stream, first waded;Which being broke, the foot had easy passage.As soon as Cæsar got unto the bankAnd bounds of Italy, "Here, here," saith he,"An end of peace; here end polluted laws!Hence leagues and covenants! Fortune, thee I follow!War and the Destinies shall try my cause."This said, the restless general through the dark,Swifter than bullets thrown from Spanish slings,Or darts which Parthians backward shoot, march'd on;And then, when Lucifer did shine alone,And some dim stars, he Ariminum enter'd.Day rose, and view'd these tumults of the war:Whether the gods or blustering south were causeI know not, but the cloudy air did frown.The soldiers having won the market-place,There spread the colours with confusèd noiseOf trumpets' clang, shrill cornets, whistling fifes.The people started; young men left their beds,And snatch'd arms near their household-gods hung up,Such as peace yields; worm-eaten leathern targets,Through which the wood peer'd,597 headless darts, old swordsWith ugly teeth of black rust foully scarr'd.But seeing white eagles, and Rome's flags well known,And lofty Cæsar in the thickest throng,They shook for fear, and cold benumb'd their limbs,And muttering much, thus to themselves complain'd:"O walls unfortunate, too near to France!Predestinate to ruin! all lands elseHave stable peace: here war's rage first begins;We bide the first brunt. Safer might we dwellUnder the frosty bear, or parching east,Waggons or tents, than in this frontier town.We first sustain'd the uproars of the GaulsAnd furious Cimbrians, and of Carthage Moors:As oft as Rome was sack'd, here gan the spoil."Thus sighing whisper'd they, and none durst speak,And show their fear or grief; but as the fieldsWhen birds are silent thorough winter's rage,Or sea far from the land, so all were whist,598Now light had quite dissolv'd the misty night,And Cæsar's mind unsettled musing stood;But gods and fortune pricked him to this war,Infringing all excuse of modest shame,And labouring to approve599 his quarrel good.The angry senate, urging Gracchus'600 deeds,From doubtful Rome wrongly expell'd the tribunesThat cross'd them: both which now approach'd the camp,And with them Curio, sometime tribune too,One that was fee'd for Cæsar, and whose tongueCould tune the people to the nobles' mind.601"Cæsar," said he, "while eloquence prevail'd,And I might plead and draw the commons' mindsTo favour thee, against the senate's will,Five years I lengthen'd thy command in France;But law being put to silence by the wars,We, from her houses driven, most willinglySuffer'd exile: let thy sword bring us home,Now, while their part is weak and fears, march hence:Where men are ready lingering ever hurts.602In ten years wonn'st thou France: Rome may be wonWith far less toil, and yet the honour's more;Few battles fought with prosperous successMay bring her down, and with her all the world.Nor shalt thou triumph when thou com'st to Rome,Nor Capitol be adorn'd with sacred bays;Envy denies all; with thy blood must thouAby thy conquest past:603 the son decreesTo expel the father: share the world thou canst not;Enjoy it all thou mayst." Thus Curio spake;And therewith Cæsar, prone enough to war,Was so incens'd as are Elean604 steeds.With clamours, who, though lock'd and chain'd in stalls,605Souse606 down the walls, and make a passage forth.Straight summon'd he his several companiesUnto the standard: his grave look appeas'dThe wrestling tumult, and right hand made silence;And thus he spake: "You that with me have borneA thousand brunts, and tried me full ten years,See how they quit our bloodshed in the north,Our friends' death, and our wounds, our winteringUnder the Alps! Rome rageth now in armsAs if the Carthage Hannibal were near;Cornets of horse are muster'd for the field;Woods turn'd to ships; both land and sea against us.Had foreign wars ill-thriv'd, or wrathful FrancePursu'd us hither, how were we bested,When, coming conqueror, Rome afflicts me thus?Let come their leader607 whom long peace hath quail'd,Raw soldiers lately press'd, and troops of gowns,Babbling608 Marcellus, Cato whom fools reverence!Must Pompey's followers, with strangers' aid(Whom from his youth he brib'd), needs make him king?And shall he triumph long before his time,And, having once got head, still shall he reign?What should I talk of men's corn reap'd by force,And by him kept of purpose for a dearth?Who sees not war sit by the quivering judge,And sentence given in rings of naked swords,And laws assail'd, and arm'd men in the senate?'Twas his troop hemm'd in Milo being accus'd;And now, lest age might wane his state, he castsFor civil war, wherein through use he's knownTo exceed his master, that arch-traitor Sylla.A[s] brood of barbarous tigers, having lapp'dThe blood of many a herd, whilst with their damsThey kennell'd in Hyrcania, evermoreWill rage and prey; so, Pompey, thou, having lick'dWarm gore from Sylla's sword, art yet athirst:Jaws flesh[ed] with blood continue murderous.Speak, when shall this thy long-usurped power end?What end of mischief? Sylla teaching thee,At last learn, wretch, to leave thy monarchy!What, now Sicilian609 pirates are suppress'd,And jaded610 king of Pontus poison'd slain,Must Pompey as his last foe plume on me,Because at his command I wound not upMy conquering eagles? say I merit naught,611Yet, for long service done, reward these men,And so they triumph, be't with whom ye will.Whither now shall these old bloodless souls repair?What seats for their deserts? what store of groundFor servitors to till? what coloniesTo rest their bones? say, Pompey, are these worseThan pirates of Sicilia?612 they had houses.Spread, spread these flags that ten years' space have conquer'd!Let's use our tried force: they that now thwart right,In wars will yield to wrong:613 the gods are with us;Neither spoil nor kingdom seek we by these arms,But Rome, at thraldom's feet, to rid from tyrants."This spoke, none answer'd, but a murmuring buzzTh' unstable people made: their household-godsAnd love to Rome (though slaughter steel'd their hearts,And minds were prone) restrain'd them; but war's loveAnd Cæsar's awe dash'd all. Then Lælius,614The chief centurion, crown'd with oaken leavesFor saving of a Roman citizen,Stepp'd forth, and cried: "Chief leader of Rome's force,So be I may be bold to speak a truth,We grieve at this thy patience and delay.What, doubt'st thou us? even now when youthful bloodPricks forth our lively bodies, and strong armsCan mainly throw the dart, wilt thou endureThese purple grooms, that senate's tyranny?Is conquest got by civil war so heinous?Well, lead us, then, to Syrtes' desert shore,Or Scythia, or hot Libya's thirsty sands.This band, that all behind us might be quail'd,Hath with thee pass'd the swelling ocean,And swept the foaming breast of Arctic615 Rhene.Love over-rules my will; I must obey thee,Cæsar: he whom I hear thy trumpets charge,I hold no Roman; by these ten blest ensignsAnd all thy several triumphs, shouldst thou bid meEntomb my sword within my brother's bowels,Or father's throat, or women's groaning616 womb,This hand, albeit unwilling, should perform it?Or rob the gods, or sacred temples fire,These troops should soon pull down the church of Jove;617If to encamp on Tuscan Tiber's streams,I'll boldly quarter out the fields of Rome;What walls thou wilt be levell'd with the ground,These hands shall thrust the ram, and make them fly,Albeit the city thou wouldst have so raz'dBe Rome itself." Here every band applauded,And, with their hands held up, all jointly criedThey'll follow where he please. The shouts rent heaven,As when against pine-bearing Ossa's rocksBeats Thracian Boreas, or when trees bow618 downAnd rustling swing up as the wind fets619 breath.When Cæsar saw his army prone to war,And Fates so bent, lest sloth and long delayMight cross him, he withdrew his troops from France,And in all quarters musters men for Rome.They by Lemannus' nook forsook their tents;They whom620 the Lingones foil'd with painted spears,Under the rocks by crookèd Vogesus;And many came from shallow Isara,Who, running long, falls in a greater flood,And, ere he sees the sea, loseth his name;The yellow Ruthens left their garrisons;Mild Atax glad it bears not Roman boats,621And frontier Varus that the camp is far,Sent aid; so did Alcides' port, whose seasEat hollow rocks, and where the north-west windNor zephyr rules not, but the north aloneTurmoils the coast, and enterance forbids;And others came from that uncertain shoreWhich is nor sea nor land, but ofttimes both,And changeth as the ocean ebbs and flows;Whether the sea roll'd always from that pointWhence the wind blows, still forcèd to and fro;Or that the wandering main follow the moon;Or flaming Titan, feeding on the deep,Pulls them aloft, and makes the surge kiss heaven;Philosophers, look you; for unto me,Thou cause, whate'er thou be, whom God assignsThis great effect, art hid. They came that dwellBy Nemes' fields and banks of Satirus,622Where Tarbell's winding shores embrace the sea;The Santons that rejoice in Cæsar's love;623Those of Bituriges,624 and light Axon625 pikes;And they of Rhene and Leuca,626 cunning darters,And Sequana that well could manage steeds;The Belgians apt to govern British cars;Th' A[r]verni, too, which boldly feign themselvesThe Roman's brethren, sprung of Ilian race;The stubborn Nervians stain'd with Cotta's blood;And Vangions who, like those of Sarmata,Wear open slops;627 and fierce Batavians,Whom trumpet's clang incites; and those that dwellBy Cinga's stream, and where swift RhodanusDrives Araris to sea; they near the hills,Under whose hoary rocks Gebenna hangs;And, Trevier, thou being glad that wars are past thee;And you, late-shorn Ligurians, who were wontIn large-spread hair to exceed the rest of France;And where to Hesus and fell Mercury628They offer human flesh, and where Jove seemsBloody like Dian, whom the Scythians serve.And you, French Bardi, whose immortal pensRenown the valiant souls slain in your wars,Sit safe at home and chant sweet poesy.And, Druides, you now in peace renewYour barbarous customs and sinister rites:In unfell'd woods and sacred groves you dwell;And only gods and heavenly powers you know,Or only know you nothing; for you holdThat souls pass not to silent ErebusOr Pluto's bloodless kingdom, but elsewhereResume a body; so (if truth you sing)Death brings long life. Doubtless these northern men,Whom death, the greatest of all fears, affright not,Are blest by such sweet error; this makes themRun on the sword's point, and desire to die,And shame to spare life which being lost is won.You likewise that repuls'd the Caÿc foe,March towards Rome; and you, fierce men of Rhene,Leaving your country open to the spoil.These being come, their huge power made him boldTo manage greater deeds; the bordering townsHe garrison'd; and Italy he fill'd with soldiers.Vain fame increased true fear, and did invadeThe people's minds, and laid before their eyesSlaughter to come, and, swiftly bringing newsOf present war, made many lies and tales:One swears his troops of daring horsemen foughtUpon Mevania's plain, where bulls are graz'd;Other that Cæsar's barbarous bands were spreadAlong Nar flood that into Tiber falls,And that his own ten ensigns and the restMarch'd not entirely, and yet hide the ground;And that he's much chang'd, looking wild and big,And far more barbarous than the French, his vassals;And that he lags629 behind with them, of purpose,Borne 'twixt the Alps and Rhene, which he hath broughtFrom out their northern parts,630 and that Rome,He looking on, by these men should be sack'd.Thus in his fright did each man strengthen fame,And, without ground, fear'd what themselves had feign'd.Nor were the commons only struck to heartWith this vain terror; but the court, the senate,The fathers selves leap'd from their seats, and, flying,Left hateful war decreed to both the consuls.Then, with their fear and danger all-distract,Their sway of flight carries the heady rout,631That in chain'd632 troops break forth at every port:You would have thought their houses had been fir'd,Or, dropping-ripe, ready to fall with ruin.So rush'd the inconsiderate multitudeThorough the city, hurried headlong on,As if the only hope that did remainTo their afflictions were t' abandon Rome.Look how, when stormy Auster from the breachOf Libyan Syrtes rolls a monstrous wave,Which makes the main-sail fall with hideous sound,The pilot from the helm leaps in the sea,And mariners, albeit the keel be sound,Shipwreck themselves; even so, the city left,All rise in arms; nor could the bed-rid parentsKeep back their sons, or women's tears their husbands:They stayed not either to pray or sacrifice;Their household-gods restrain them not; none lingered,As loath to leave Rome whom they held so dear:Th' irrevocable people fly in troops.O gods, that easy grant men great estates,But hardly grace to keep them! Rome, that flowsWith citizens and captives,633 and would holdThe world, were it together, is by cowardsLeft as a prey, now Cæsar doth approach.When Romans are besieged by foreign foes,With slender trench they escape night-stratagems,And sudden rampire rais'd of turf snatched up,Would make them sleep securely in their tents.Thou, Rome, at name of war runn'st from thyself,And wilt not trust thy city-walls one night:Well might these fear, when Pompey feared and fled.Now evermore, lest some one hope might easeThe commons' jangling minds, apparent signs arose,Strange sights appeared; the angry threatening godsFilled both the earth and seas with prodigies.Great store of strange and unknown stars were seenWandering about the north, and rings of fireFly in the air, and dreadful bearded stars,And comets that presage the fall of kingdoms;The flattering634 sky glittered in often flames,And sundry fiery meteors blazed in heaven,Now spear-like long, now like a spreading torch;Lightning in silence stole forth without clouds,And, from the northern climate snatching fire,Blasted the Capitol; the lesser stars,Which wont to run their course through empty night,At noon-day mustered; Phœbe, having filledHer meeting horns to match her brother's light,Struck with th' earth's sudden shadow, waxèd pale;Titan himself, throned in the midst of heaven,His burning chariot plunged in sable clouds,And whelmed the world in darkness, making menDespair of day; as did Thyestes' town,Mycenæ, Phœbus flying through the east.Fierce Mulciber unbarrèd Ætna's gate,Which flamèd not on high, but headlong pitchedHer burning head on bending Hespery.Coal-black Charybdis whirled a sea of blood.Fierce mastives howled. The vestal fires went out;The flame in Alba, consecrate to Jove,Parted in twain, and with a double pointRose, like the Theban brothers' funeral fire.The earth went off her hinges; and the AlpsShook the old snow from off their trembling laps.635The ocean swelled as high as Spanish CalpeOr Atlas' head. Their saints and household-godsSweat tears, to show the travails of their city:Crowns fell from holy statues. Ominous birdsDefiled the day; and wild beasts were seen,636Leaving the woods, lodge in the streets of Rome.Cattle were seen that muttered human speech;Prodigious births with more and ugly jointsThan nature gives, whose sight appals the mother;And dismal prophecies were spread abroad:And they, whom fierce Bellona's fury movesTo wound their arms, sing vengeance; Cybel's637 priests,Curling their bloody locks, howl dreadful things.Souls quiet and appeas'd sighed from their graves;Clashing of arms was heard; in untrod woodsShrill voices schright;638 and ghosts encounter men.Those that inhabited the suburb-fieldsFled: foul Erinnys stalked about the walls,Shaking her snaky hair and crookèd pineWith flaming top; much like that hellish fiendWhich made the stern Lycurgus wound his thigh,Or fierce Agave mad; or like MegæraThat scar'd Alcides, when by Juno's taskHe had before look'd Pluto in the face.Trumpets were heard to sound; and with what noiseAn armèd battle joins, such and more strangeBlack night brought forth in secret. Sylla's ghostWas seen to walk, singing sad oracles;And Marius' head above cold Tav'ron639 peering,His grave broke open, did affright the boors.To these ostents, as their old custom was,They call th' Etrurian augurs: amongst whomThe gravest, Arruns, dwelt in forsaken Leuca640Well-skill'd in pyromancy; one that knewThe hearts of beasts, and flight of wandering fowls.First he commands such monsters Nature hatch'dAgainst her kind, the barren mule's loath'd issue,To be cut forth641 and cast in dismal fires;Then, that the trembling citizens should walkAbout the city; then, the sacred priestsThat with divine lustration purg'd the walls,And went the round, in and without the town;Next, an inferior troop, in tuck'd-up vestures,After the Gabine manner; then, the nunsAnd their veil'd matron, who alone might viewMinerva's statue; then, they that kept and readSibylla's secret works, and wash642 their saintIn Almo's flood; next learnèd augurs follow;Apollo's soothsayers, and Jove's feasting priests;The skipping Salii with shields like wedges;And Flamens last, with net-work woollen veils.While these thus in and out had circled Rome,Look, what the lightning blasted, Arruns takes,And it inters with murmurs dolorous,And calls the place Bidental. On the altarHe lays a ne'er-yok'd bull, and pours down wine,Then crams salt leaven on his crookèd knife:The beast long struggled, as being like to proveAn awkward sacrifice; but by the hornsThe quick priest pulled him on his knees, and slew him.No vein sprung out, but from the yawning gash,Instead of red blood, wallow'd venomous gore.These direful signs made Arruns stand amazed,And searching farther for the gods' displeasure,The very colour scared him; a dead blacknessRan through the blood, that turned it all to jelly,And stained the bowels with dark loathsome spots;The liver swelled with filth; and every veinDid threaten horror from the host of CæsarA small thin skin contained the vital parts;The heart stirred not; and from the gaping liverSqueezed matter through the caul; the entrails peered;And which (ay me!) ever pretendeth643 ill,At that bunch where the liver is, appear'dA knob of flesh, whereof one half did lookDead and discolour'd, th' other lean and thin.644By these he seeing what mischiefs must ensue,Cried out, "O gods, I tremble to unfoldWhat you intend! great Jove is now displeas'd;And in the breast of this slain bull are creptTh' infernal powers. My fear transcends my words;Yet more will happen than I can unfold:Turn all to good, be augury vain, and Tages,Th' art's master, false!" Thus, in ambiguous termsInvolving all, did Arruns darkly sing.But Figulus, more seen in heavenly mysteries,Whose like Ægyptian Memphis never hadFor skill in stars and tuneful planeting,645In this sort spake: "The world's swift course is lawlessAnd casual; all the stars at random range;646Or if fate rule them, Rome, thy citizensAre near some plague. What mischief shall ensue?Shall towns be swallow'd? shall the thicken'd airBecome intemperate? shall the earth be barren?Shall water be congeal'd and turn'd to ice?647O gods, what death prepare ye? with what plagueMean ye to rage? the death of many menMeets in one period. If cold noisome SaturnWere now exalted, and with blue beams shin'd,Then Ganymede648 would renew Deucalion's flood,And in the fleeting sea the earth be drench'd.O Phœbus, shouldst thou with thy rays now singeThe fell Nemæan beast, th' earth would be fir'd,And heaven tormented with thy chafing heat:But thy fires hurt not. Mars, 'tis thou inflam'stThe threatening Scorpion with the burning tail,And fir'st his cleys:649 why art thou thus enrag'd?Kind Jupiter hath low declin'd himself;Venus is faint; swift Hermes retrograde;Mars only rules the heaven. Why do the planetsAlter their course, and vainly dim their virtue?Sword-girt Orion's side glisters too bright:War's rage draws near; and to the sword's strong handLet all laws yield, sin bears the name of virtue:Many a year these furious broils let last:Why should we wish the gods should ever end them?War only gives us peace. O Rome, continueThe course of mischief, and stretch out the dateOf slaughter! only civil broils make peace."These sad presages were enough to scareThe quivering Romans; but worse things affright them.As Mænas650 full of wine on Pindus raves,So runs a matron through th' amazèd streets,Disclosing Phœbus' fury in this sort;"Pæan, whither am I haled? where shall I fall,Thus borne aloft? I seen Pangæus' hillWith hoary top, and, under Hæmus' mount,Philippi plains. Phœbus, what rage is this?Why grapples Rome, and makes war, having no foes?Whither turn I now? thou lead'st me toward th' east,Where Nile augmenteth the Pelusian sea:This headless trunk that lies on Nilus' sandI know. Now th[o]roughout the air I flyTo doubtful Syrtes and dry Afric, whereA Fury leads the Emathian bands. From thenceTo the pine-bearing651 hills; thence652 to the mountsPyrene; and so back to Rome again.See, impious war defiles the senate-house!New factions rise. Now through the world againI go. O Phœbus, show me Neptune's shore,And other regions! I have seen Philippi."This said, being tir'd with fury, she sunk down.
