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Medulla Poetarum Romanorum

Or, the Most Beautiful and Instructive Passages of the Roman Poets. Being a Collection, (Disposed under proper Heads,) Of such Descriptions, Allusions, Comparisons, Characters, and Sentiments, as may best serve to shew the Religion, Learning, Politicks, Arts, Customs, Opinions, Manners, and Circumstances of the Antients. With Translations of the same in English Verse. By Mr. Henry Baker

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Treachery.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  

Treachery.

See Dissimulation.

Oppos'd to Ilium lie the Thracian Plains,
Where Polymester safe in Plenty reigns.
King Priam to his Care commits his Son
Young Polydore, the Chance of War to shun.
A wise Precaution! had not Gold, consign'd
For the Child's Use, debauch'd the Tyrant's Mind.
When sinking Troy to its last Period drew;
With impious Hands his royal Charge he slew:
Then in the Sea the lifeless Coarse is thrown,
As, with the Body, he the Guilt could drown.—

Stanyan. Ov. Met. XIII.


My cruel Fate, and my more cruel Wife,
To Grecian Swords betray'd my sleeping Life.
You know in what delusive Joys we past
The Night, that was by Heav'n decreed our last.
For when the fatal Horse, descending down,
Pregnant with Arms, o'er-whelm'd th' unhappy Town:
She feign'd nocturnal Orgies, left my Bed,
And, mix'd with Trojan Dames, the Dances led.

447

Then waving high her Torch, the Signal made,
Which rous'd the Grecians from their Ambuscade.
With watching over-worn, with Cares opprest;
Unhappy I had laid me down to Rest,
And heavy Sleep my weary Limbs possess'd.
Mean Time, my worthy Wife our Arms mislaid,
And from beneath my Head my Sword convey'd:
The Door unlock'd: and with repeated Calls,
Invites her former Lord within my Walls.
Thus in her Crime her Confidence she plac'd,
And with new Treasons would redeem the past.
What need I more: into the Room they ran,
And basely murder'd a defenceless Man.—

Dryden. Virg. Æn. Lib. VI.


 

Deiphobus, betrayed by Helen, whom he took to Wife after the Death of Paris.

Pompey aproaching near the fatal Shore,
Strikes the wide Sail, and plies the plunging Oar.
Him, in a two-bank'd Boat, the Villains meet,
And with dissembled Cheer the Roman greet.
They feign their hospitable Land address'd
With ready Friendship to receive her Guest.
Excusing much an inconvenient Shore,
Where Shoals lie thick, and meeting Currents roar:
From his large Ship, unequal to the Place,
They beg him to their lighter Boat to pass.
Had not the Gods, unchangeably decreed,
Devoted Pompey in that Hour should bleed,
A thousand Signs the Danger near foretell,
Seen by his sad presaging Friends too well.
If fair and faithfully they had design'd,
If Truth could lodge in an Egyptian Mind,
Their King, himself, with all his Fleet had come,
To lead, in Pomp, his Benefactor home.
But thus Fate wills, and Pompey yields to Fate,
Nor, at their Bidding, stay'd to hesitate:
But left his Ship, and rather chose to bear
Death, tho' 'twere certain, than ignoble Fear.
His Wife, impatient, to be left behind,
To rush, with him, into the Boat design'd:
For now, his Danger only fill'd her Mind.

449

But, Oh! forbear, (he cries,) my Love! forbear:
Thou and my Son remain in Safety here:
Let this old Head the Danger first explore,
And prove the Faith of yon suspected Shore.—

Rowe alt. Lucan. Lib. VIII.


Just as he enter'd o'er the Vessel's Side,
Hail General! the curs'd Septimius cry'd:
A Roman once, and brave in Arms was He,
Now of the Guard, and Slave to Ptolemy.—

Id. alt.


Defenceless, in the Boat, now, Pompey sat,
Surrounded, and abandon'd to his Fate.
Nor long they hold him, in their Power, aboard,
E'er ev'ry Villain drew his ruthless Sword:
The Chief perceiv'd their Purpose soon, and spread
His Roman Gown, with Patience, o'er his Head:
And when the curs'd Achillas pierc'd his Breast,
His rising Indignation close repress'd.
No Sighs, no Groans, his Dignity prophan'd,
Nor Tears his still unsully'd Glory stain'd:
Unmov'd, and firm, he fix'd him on his Seat,
And dy'd, as when he liv'd and conquer'd, Great.—

Id. Ibid.


The bloody Business now compleatly done,
New Furies urge the fierce Septimius on:
He rends the Robe that veil'd the Hero's Head,
And to full View expos'd the recent Dead:
Hard in his horrid Gripe the Face he press'd,
While yet the quiv'ring Muscles Life confess'd:
He drew the dragging Body down with Haste,
Then cross a Rower's Seat the Neck he plac'd:
There, awkward, haggling, he divides the Bone,
(The Headsman's Art was yet but little known.)
Caught by the venerable Locks, which grow,
In hoary Ringlets on his gen'rous Brow,
To Egypt's impious King that Head they bear,
Which Lawrels us'd to bind, and Monarchs fear.—

Id. Ibid.