Lvcans Pharsalia Containing The Ciuill Warres betweene Caesar and Pompey. Written In Latine Heroicall Verse by M. Annaevs Lvcanus. Translated into English verse by Sir Arthur Gorges ... Whereunto is annexed the life of the Authour, collected out of diuers Authors |
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The eighth Booke.
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The eighth Booke.
The Argvment.
Pompey repulst and put to flight,By secret waies in great affright,
Himselfe first at Larissa showes,
And then by seas to Lesbos goes.
Where all that people him bewailes,
Thence with his mournfull wife he sailes
Vnto Cælicia, whither came
His sonne, and other Lords of name.
There they consult what land to seeke,
Accursed Ægypt best they like.
Where he no sooner did arriue,
But king and Councell did contriue
His present death; and to that end
They thaiterously Achilles send,
Who in the presence of his wife,
And of his sonne, bereft his life.
Codrus his seruant with his hands
Scrapes him a graue amongst the sands.
Now
Pompey forward hasting posts
Ouer the Herculean coasts
Then thorow Tempes woody waies
Æmonian forrests he displaies,
And desart passages assayes.
His steede, though stroken with the spurre,
Would scarcely forward go or sturre.
So was he spent and ouer heate
With running long, and faint with sweate.
Besides amaze him so did fright,
That he stood doubtfull in his flight,
What course to take, or where to rest,
But in and out his way doth wrest.
The murmuring that the winds doth make
Amongst the woods when leaus did shake
Causde him for very feare to quake.
His traine that follow him behind
A terror are vnto his minde.
And those that gallop by his sides,
Perplexe him also as he rides.
For though he were from that high place
Throwne downe, and out of Fortunes grace
Yet therewithall he vnderstood,
That no base prise was worth his blood.
But mindfull of his former state,
He knew twas yet at so hie rate
That Cæsar would giue for head,
As much as he then valued
The price of Cæsar to be slaine,
And would bestow his head to gaine.
But now he finds no secret place
Could serue to hide his honoured face.
For many that do take his part,
Now comming to Pharsalias Mart
(The fame as yet not being blowne,
That all was lost and ouerthrowne)
Were much amazed in their mind,
Pompey in that same place to find.
And scarcely would beleeue the truth
That he himselfe relates with ruth.
But grieuous was all company
To him in this calamity,
No peoples concurse he desir'd
But from the world to liue retir'd.
In safetie with obscured name:
But Fortune that vnconstant Dame
On him poore man her frowns doth cast
To blanch her many fauours past,
So as the waight of his renowne,
His happinesse doth more presse downe,
And with the more offensiue hate,
His former blisse doth exprobate.
For now he thinks his honors past,
Were heaped on him too too fast.
And doth accurse those Syllan bayes,
The glory of his youthfull dayes.
It irkes him now, deiected wight,
To thinke vpon his Nauall fight,
And those braue ensignes that he wonne,
In Pontycke kingdome ouerrunne.
Long life doth manly courage bate,
And he that in empiring state
Hath alwaies liu'd, except withall
In blisse he close his funerall.
And doth with speedy death preuent,
The change that fortune would present.
He hath but liu'd to see his shame,
And hath outliu'd his honors name.
For who would fortunes fauours trie
Except he can resolue to die.
Ouer the Herculean coasts
Then thorow Tempes woody waies
Æmonian forrests he displaies,
301
His steede, though stroken with the spurre,
Would scarcely forward go or sturre.
So was he spent and ouer heate
With running long, and faint with sweate.
Besides amaze him so did fright,
That he stood doubtfull in his flight,
What course to take, or where to rest,
But in and out his way doth wrest.
The murmuring that the winds doth make
Amongst the woods when leaus did shake
Causde him for very feare to quake.
His traine that follow him behind
A terror are vnto his minde.
And those that gallop by his sides,
Perplexe him also as he rides.
For though he were from that high place
Throwne downe, and out of Fortunes grace
Yet therewithall he vnderstood,
That no base prise was worth his blood.
But mindfull of his former state,
He knew twas yet at so hie rate
That Cæsar would giue for head,
As much as he then valued
The price of Cæsar to be slaine,
And would bestow his head to gaine.
But now he finds no secret place
Could serue to hide his honoured face.
For many that do take his part,
Now comming to Pharsalias Mart
(The fame as yet not being blowne,
That all was lost and ouerthrowne)
Were much amazed in their mind,
Pompey in that same place to find.
And scarcely would beleeue the truth
That he himselfe relates with ruth.
But grieuous was all company
To him in this calamity,
No peoples concurse he desir'd
But from the world to liue retir'd.
308
But Fortune that vnconstant Dame
On him poore man her frowns doth cast
To blanch her many fauours past,
So as the waight of his renowne,
His happinesse doth more presse downe,
And with the more offensiue hate,
His former blisse doth exprobate.
For now he thinks his honors past,
Were heaped on him too too fast.
And doth accurse those Syllan bayes,
The glory of his youthfull dayes.
It irkes him now, deiected wight,
To thinke vpon his Nauall fight,
And those braue ensignes that he wonne,
In Pontycke kingdome ouerrunne.
Long life doth manly courage bate,
And he that in empiring state
Hath alwaies liu'd, except withall
In blisse he close his funerall.
And doth with speedy death preuent,
The change that fortune would present.
He hath but liu'd to see his shame,
And hath outliu'd his honors name.
For who would fortunes fauours trie
Except he can resolue to die.
Now hath he to the shore attain'd
Whereas Pœneius streame distain'd
With blood of the Pharsalian fields,
Her Tribute to the Ocean yeelds.
There fearefully he takes a boate
Vnfit in winds and waues to floate.
Which scarcely safe did him conuey,
Vpon the riuer, to the bay.
For yet she coasted with her oares,
Corcyras and Leucades shoares,
This Cylicke, and Lyburnicke Lord,
In those lands earst so much ador'd,
Embarks him here with mickle feare,
Into a little Passenger.
And with a mind fraught full of cares,
His course for Lesbos he prepares.
Where thou Cornelia didst reside
And there more heauy dayes hadst tride,
Then if thou hadst encamped laine,
With Pompey in Pharsalias plaine.
Presages great of future ill,
Her vexed thoughts do fright and fill.
And in in her sleepings heauinesse:
Oft trembling fits did her oppresse
She sees Thessalia field by night.
And when that Phœbus spreads his light.
Vnto the loftie Cliffes she hies,
And to the shore that vtmost lies
Where on the maine she casts her eyes,
And if she will first of all discouer:
If any sayles do that way houer.
And yet to aske she is a dread,
How Pompey in the warre hath sped.
Whereas Pœneius streame distain'd
With blood of the Pharsalian fields,
Her Tribute to the Ocean yeelds.
There fearefully he takes a boate
Vnfit in winds and waues to floate.
Which scarcely safe did him conuey,
Vpon the riuer, to the bay.
For yet she coasted with her oares,
Corcyras and Leucades shoares,
This Cylicke, and Lyburnicke Lord,
In those lands earst so much ador'd,
Embarks him here with mickle feare,
Into a little Passenger.
309
His course for Lesbos he prepares.
Where thou Cornelia didst reside
And there more heauy dayes hadst tride,
Then if thou hadst encamped laine,
With Pompey in Pharsalias plaine.
Presages great of future ill,
Her vexed thoughts do fright and fill.
And in in her sleepings heauinesse:
Oft trembling fits did her oppresse
She sees Thessalia field by night.
And when that Phœbus spreads his light.
Vnto the loftie Cliffes she hies,
And to the shore that vtmost lies
Where on the maine she casts her eyes,
And if she will first of all discouer:
If any sayles do that way houer.
And yet to aske she is a dread,
How Pompey in the warre hath sped.
But now behold his ship doth stand
Full with the hauen of this land,
And with all sayles doth hither presse,
Thogh with what news thou canst not gesse.
Till at the length greefe to reuiue,
Thy conquered husband doth arriue.
The heauie messenger of warres,
The Harrold of hearts-wounding scarres.
Why dost thou now lose time to wayle,
When thou maist weep, feare doth preuaile
But as the ship drew neare at hand,
In hast she runs vnto the strand.
And there she quickly did descrie,
The cruell blame of Destinie.
Her Lords discolloured deadly face,
Whose hoarie haires about it trace,
Rough and vnkombt; and his attire
Dasht and besprent with dust and mire.
Wherewith this poore astonisht wight,
Was ouercome with deaths darke night,
That from her eyes depriu'd the light.
Faint sorrow did her sprites inuest,
Downe right she sinkes life leaues her brest.
Her lims were starke, her heart grew colde,
A deadly trance her hope doth holde.
By this their Anchors being cast,
Were with their cables mored fast.
Pompey beholds the vacant sand,
Where as his faithfull seruants stand.
Who secretly their griefs do show,
Amongst themselues with inward woe,
And mournfull sighs which they bestow,
Such as well sorted with his fate.
And therewithall they eleuate
In vaine their mistresse from the ground,
That there halfe dead lay in a sound.
Whom Pompey colleth in his armes,
And her lims with embracements warmes.
Full with the hauen of this land,
And with all sayles doth hither presse,
Thogh with what news thou canst not gesse.
Till at the length greefe to reuiue,
Thy conquered husband doth arriue.
The heauie messenger of warres,
The Harrold of hearts-wounding scarres.
Why dost thou now lose time to wayle,
When thou maist weep, feare doth preuaile
But as the ship drew neare at hand,
In hast she runs vnto the strand.
And there she quickly did descrie,
The cruell blame of Destinie.
Her Lords discolloured deadly face,
Whose hoarie haires about it trace,
Rough and vnkombt; and his attire
Dasht and besprent with dust and mire.
Wherewith this poore astonisht wight,
Was ouercome with deaths darke night,
That from her eyes depriu'd the light.
310
Downe right she sinkes life leaues her brest.
Her lims were starke, her heart grew colde,
A deadly trance her hope doth holde.
By this their Anchors being cast,
Were with their cables mored fast.
Pompey beholds the vacant sand,
Where as his faithfull seruants stand.
Who secretly their griefs do show,
Amongst themselues with inward woe,
And mournfull sighs which they bestow,
Such as well sorted with his fate.
And therewithall they eleuate
In vaine their mistresse from the ground,
That there halfe dead lay in a sound.
Whom Pompey colleth in his armes,
And her lims with embracements warmes.
Then as the blood return'd againe,
And did begin to strength each vaine:
Her husbands hand she felt withall,
And to her mind his face did call.
He wils her not to stoope to fate,
Nor yet her griefs to aggrauate.
O why shouldst thou a woman borne
Of so great blood, like one forlorne?
Thy noble heart and comfort breake,
With the first blow of Fortunes freake,
A meane is offered now to raise,
Thy glory to all future daies.
The praise wherein thy sex hath part,
Is not for letters, nor for Mart.
Thy honor is thy constancie,
Vnto thy spouse in miserie.
Lift vp thy sprites with pious thought,
Set all the scornes of fate at nought.
Me (though subdude) loue as before,
Thy glory shall be so much more.
Now that my honors all are fled,
And that I am abandoned.
Of all the Senates sacred troope,
And of great kings that late did stoope
Vnto my hest; Now be thou knowne
Pompeys deare constant frend alone.
Too much thou greeuest with Pallid face,
Since that thy husband is in place.
Thy sorrow now is at that height
As greater cannot vexe thy spright,
But to bewayle thy Pompey so,
Should be the last loue thou shouldst show
Vnto him dead; as yet no harmes,
Accrewes to thee by ciuil armes.
Pompey in health doth liue as yet,
Though fortunes fauours from him flit.
To that therefore thy loue was bent,
For which thou mak'st so great lament.
And did begin to strength each vaine:
Her husbands hand she felt withall,
And to her mind his face did call.
He wils her not to stoope to fate,
Nor yet her griefs to aggrauate.
O why shouldst thou a woman borne
Of so great blood, like one forlorne?
Thy noble heart and comfort breake,
With the first blow of Fortunes freake,
A meane is offered now to raise,
Thy glory to all future daies.
The praise wherein thy sex hath part,
Is not for letters, nor for Mart.
Thy honor is thy constancie,
Vnto thy spouse in miserie.
Lift vp thy sprites with pious thought,
Set all the scornes of fate at nought.
Me (though subdude) loue as before,
Thy glory shall be so much more.
Now that my honors all are fled,
And that I am abandoned.
Of all the Senates sacred troope,
311
Vnto my hest; Now be thou knowne
Pompeys deare constant frend alone.
Too much thou greeuest with Pallid face,
Since that thy husband is in place.
Thy sorrow now is at that height
As greater cannot vexe thy spright,
But to bewayle thy Pompey so,
Should be the last loue thou shouldst show
Vnto him dead; as yet no harmes,
Accrewes to thee by ciuil armes.
Pompey in health doth liue as yet,
Though fortunes fauours from him flit.
To that therefore thy loue was bent,
For which thou mak'st so great lament.
VVhen these words in her ears did sound
Her faint lims scarse she lifts from ground.
VVhen as her voyce at last she strains,
And in this sort her state complains.
VVould God I had bene destined
To Cæsars wracke; in mariage bed.
Then had not both my nuptiall ioyes,
Twice wrongd the world with these annoies
Erynnis first in wedlocke state,
To Crassus did me consecrate:
And so deuoted to his hands,
I brought the wracks of Parthian lands,
Amongst the Roman martiall bands.
Now ciuill harmes do follow me,
And thy iust cause; the Gods do flee
By my default; O worthy Pheere,
My haplesse match thou boughtst too deare.
Had Fortune power to shew such spight:
Vpon so great and braue a knight.
Accursed wretch, why did I match
My selfe to thee, these harmes to hatch,
Now let me thereof bide the paine,
VVhich I will take without disdaine,
And that the seas may be more milde,
And faith of kings rest vndefilde.
And all the world to thee stand fast,
Into these deepes my body cast.
For would my head were damn'd to die,
So thou mightst conquest gaine thereby
Now Pompey make thy losses knowne,
And Iulia let thy spight be showne.
Where so in ciuill camps thou haunt,
And on my bed thy vengeance vaunt.
Be present here me to torment,
Let thy wroth on me wretch be spent.
Thy Pompey spare: so hauing said,
Her grieued head againe she laid
Vpon her husbands wofull brest,
And in his armes awhile did rest.
These words causd many a waterie eye,
Amongst the troops of standers by.
And Pompeys heart euen duld with cares,
For second sorrow now prepares.
Thus Lesbos from his eyes did straine,
Teares, that Pharsalia could not gaine.
Her faint lims scarse she lifts from ground.
VVhen as her voyce at last she strains,
And in this sort her state complains.
VVould God I had bene destined
To Cæsars wracke; in mariage bed.
Then had not both my nuptiall ioyes,
Twice wrongd the world with these annoies
Erynnis first in wedlocke state,
To Crassus did me consecrate:
And so deuoted to his hands,
I brought the wracks of Parthian lands,
Amongst the Roman martiall bands.
Now ciuill harmes do follow me,
And thy iust cause; the Gods do flee
By my default; O worthy Pheere,
My haplesse match thou boughtst too deare.
Had Fortune power to shew such spight:
Vpon so great and braue a knight.
Accursed wretch, why did I match
My selfe to thee, these harmes to hatch,
Now let me thereof bide the paine,
VVhich I will take without disdaine,
And that the seas may be more milde,
And faith of kings rest vndefilde.
312
Into these deepes my body cast.
For would my head were damn'd to die,
So thou mightst conquest gaine thereby
Now Pompey make thy losses knowne,
And Iulia let thy spight be showne.
Where so in ciuill camps thou haunt,
And on my bed thy vengeance vaunt.
Be present here me to torment,
Let thy wroth on me wretch be spent.
Thy Pompey spare: so hauing said,
Her grieued head againe she laid
Vpon her husbands wofull brest,
And in his armes awhile did rest.
These words causd many a waterie eye,
Amongst the troops of standers by.
And Pompeys heart euen duld with cares,
For second sorrow now prepares.
Thus Lesbos from his eyes did straine,
Teares, that Pharsalia could not gaine.
By this from Mitilen great store
Of people came, that fill'd the shore.
And said to Pompey in this wise,
Great honour must to vs arise
For euermore, and to our state,
So to be trusted with the Mate
Of noble Pompey, as whose thrals
We now deuote our eitty wals
With sacred vowes; and do thee pray
That thou one night with vs wouldst stay,
And vs vouchsafe thy hosts to be,
Our houshold Gods shall welcome thee.
O Pompey by this grace of thine,
Make vs to future ages shine.
That Roman guests that seeke this shore,
May for thy sake loue vs the more.
No cittie in this conquered state,
Now better sorteth with thy fate.
All places now in hope may stand,
For fauour at the victors hand.
Already we haue run the race
That vs hath brought in his disgrace.
What though our Isle lye in the maine;
Can Cæsars Nauy vs constraine?
Of Senators the greatest part
Some certaine place will hold for Mart.
Thou maist againe repaire thy fame
In some one coast of noted name:
The treasures of our Temples hold,
Our Gods to thee shall giue their gold.
Our men and ships as thou shalt please,
Shall be imploy'd by land or seas.
And Lesbos worth what it can make,
Vse as thy owne and freely take.
And lest that Cæsar it possesse,
Take it to thee in thy distresse.
And this suspect take from our land,
That haue desir'd it at thy hand.
That as when thy estate was hye,
Thou in our faith didst trust affye.
So now in thy aduersity
Seeme not to doubt our loyalty.
This deere deuotion of their part,
Did greatly comfort Pompeys heart;
And vnto him no little ioy,
To finde such faith in most annoy.
No land that's vnder heau'n (quoth he)
Hath deerer been then yours to me.
And such my trust I did approue
With this great pledge of my hearts-loue,
For I to Lesbos trusty state
Committed my deere spoused mate:
Here was my sacred mansion,
And Gods of my deuotion.
Another Rome to me this was;
And when my ship to seas did passe,
To this place first I tooke my flight,
And on no other shore would light.
Now since I know that Cæsar hath
Against this state conceiued wrath,
Because that during this our strife,
You safely guarded Pompeys wife.
Thinke you that I would now refraine
To put my trust in you againe,
As though that now you stood in awe,
Cæsars dislikes on you to draw?
When as I know that for our sakes,
Already he as foes you takes.
No, now about the world must I
New forces seeke, and fortunes try.
Of people came, that fill'd the shore.
And said to Pompey in this wise,
Great honour must to vs arise
For euermore, and to our state,
So to be trusted with the Mate
Of noble Pompey, as whose thrals
We now deuote our eitty wals
With sacred vowes; and do thee pray
That thou one night with vs wouldst stay,
And vs vouchsafe thy hosts to be,
Our houshold Gods shall welcome thee.
O Pompey by this grace of thine,
Make vs to future ages shine.
That Roman guests that seeke this shore,
May for thy sake loue vs the more.
No cittie in this conquered state,
Now better sorteth with thy fate.
All places now in hope may stand,
For fauour at the victors hand.
313
That vs hath brought in his disgrace.
What though our Isle lye in the maine;
Can Cæsars Nauy vs constraine?
Of Senators the greatest part
Some certaine place will hold for Mart.
Thou maist againe repaire thy fame
In some one coast of noted name:
The treasures of our Temples hold,
Our Gods to thee shall giue their gold.
Our men and ships as thou shalt please,
Shall be imploy'd by land or seas.
And Lesbos worth what it can make,
Vse as thy owne and freely take.
And lest that Cæsar it possesse,
Take it to thee in thy distresse.
And this suspect take from our land,
That haue desir'd it at thy hand.
That as when thy estate was hye,
Thou in our faith didst trust affye.
So now in thy aduersity
Seeme not to doubt our loyalty.
This deere deuotion of their part,
Did greatly comfort Pompeys heart;
And vnto him no little ioy,
To finde such faith in most annoy.
No land that's vnder heau'n (quoth he)
Hath deerer been then yours to me.
And such my trust I did approue
With this great pledge of my hearts-loue,
For I to Lesbos trusty state
Committed my deere spoused mate:
Here was my sacred mansion,
And Gods of my deuotion.
Another Rome to me this was;
And when my ship to seas did passe,
To this place first I tooke my flight,
And on no other shore would light.
Now since I know that Cæsar hath
Against this state conceiued wrath,
314
You safely guarded Pompeys wife.
Thinke you that I would now refraine
To put my trust in you againe,
As though that now you stood in awe,
Cæsars dislikes on you to draw?
When as I know that for our sakes,
Already he as foes you takes.
No, now about the world must I
New forces seeke, and fortunes try.
Alas! how happy Lesbos name,
Will through all Ages flye with fame?
Whether by thy example led,
I shall by Kings be succoured:
Or else that Lesbos hath alone
To Pompey so great kindnesse showne.
For now I haue resolu'd my minde
To trye where I may comfort finde,
And who to me will be vnkinde:
And if that any Gods there be,
That the protection takes of me:
To them my last petitions are,
That they the peoples hearts prepare,
As faithfully to me to stand,
As doe the people of this land.
That though I now be put to flight,
Yet for all that in Cæsars spight,
Their gates may be reserued still
For me to come and go at will.
So hauing said, euen with that word,
His wofull wife he takes aboord:
The Mitelens such mone then make
That one would thinke they did forsake
Their natiue soyles; for on the strands
They cry and waile, and wring their hands.
But Pompeys fortune lesse they mournd,
Then hers that with them had soiourn'd
So long in all this ciuill broyle,
So as the people of this soyle
Lamented, as if they had lost
A Citizen they loued most.
The Matrons all held her so deere,
That had she gone vnto her Pheere
In happy state, with conquest gain'd,
Yet had they not from teares refrain'd.
So had she with her kinde respects
Oblig'd to her their deere affects,
Her vertue and her modest grace,
Her milde aspect and louely face
In all their hearts had tane such place.
For she was of such humble cheere,
Though wife to such a mighty Peere,
That she to them gaue no dislike,
But liued as a guest full meeke;
As though that she for succour came,
And not as noble Pompeys Dame
Left there when he his fortunes ioy'd,
But as the wife of one destroy'd.
Will through all Ages flye with fame?
Whether by thy example led,
I shall by Kings be succoured:
Or else that Lesbos hath alone
To Pompey so great kindnesse showne.
For now I haue resolu'd my minde
To trye where I may comfort finde,
And who to me will be vnkinde:
And if that any Gods there be,
That the protection takes of me:
To them my last petitions are,
That they the peoples hearts prepare,
As faithfully to me to stand,
As doe the people of this land.
That though I now be put to flight,
Yet for all that in Cæsars spight,
Their gates may be reserued still
For me to come and go at will.
So hauing said, euen with that word,
His wofull wife he takes aboord:
The Mitelens such mone then make
That one would thinke they did forsake
Their natiue soyles; for on the strands
They cry and waile, and wring their hands.
But Pompeys fortune lesse they mournd,
Then hers that with them had soiourn'd
So long in all this ciuill broyle,
So as the people of this soyle
Lamented, as if they had lost
315
The Matrons all held her so deere,
That had she gone vnto her Pheere
In happy state, with conquest gain'd,
Yet had they not from teares refrain'd.
So had she with her kinde respects
Oblig'd to her their deere affects,
Her vertue and her modest grace,
Her milde aspect and louely face
In all their hearts had tane such place.
For she was of such humble cheere,
Though wife to such a mighty Peere,
That she to them gaue no dislike,
But liued as a guest full meeke;
As though that she for succour came,
And not as noble Pompeys Dame
Left there when he his fortunes ioy'd,
But as the wife of one destroy'd.
Tytan began now to decline,
So as one halfe of his bright shine
Was hid from vs within the seas;
The other halfe th' Antipodes
Did then behold; so as nor wee
Nor they, could then his full eye see.
But Pompey now could take no rest,
So many cares torment his breast.
Sometimes he calles vnto his minde,
How many Cities were combin'd
By league vnto the Roman state,
How many Kings confederate
Of diuers humors, tooke their part,
Whom he might draw againe to Mart.
Sometimes he thinkes vpon the South,
Whose lands the Sunne hath parch't with drouth.
And thus a world of cares and toyle
In his perplexed breast doe broyle.
Sometimes in hope to leuy Armes:
Sometimes in dread of future harmes.
Then with the Maister he confarres
About the motions of the starres;
And how the Coasts and lands doe lye,
The signes of weather in the skye,
And when 'tis fit to hull or trye:
Or else with sailes to cut the deepes,
What starre the Syrian quarters keepes;
Or what starre in the waine best stands,
To guide a course for Lybian lands.
So as one halfe of his bright shine
Was hid from vs within the seas;
The other halfe th' Antipodes
Did then behold; so as nor wee
Nor they, could then his full eye see.
But Pompey now could take no rest,
So many cares torment his breast.
Sometimes he calles vnto his minde,
How many Cities were combin'd
By league vnto the Roman state,
How many Kings confederate
Of diuers humors, tooke their part,
Whom he might draw againe to Mart.
Sometimes he thinkes vpon the South,
Whose lands the Sunne hath parch't with drouth.
And thus a world of cares and toyle
In his perplexed breast doe broyle.
Sometimes in hope to leuy Armes:
Sometimes in dread of future harmes.
Then with the Maister he confarres
About the motions of the starres;
316
The signes of weather in the skye,
And when 'tis fit to hull or trye:
Or else with sailes to cut the deepes,
What starre the Syrian quarters keepes;
Or what starre in the waine best stands,
To guide a course for Lybian lands.
This skilfull Pilot that had oft
And long, these Nauall Courses sought,
And secret mysteries of the skies,
In this sort vnto him replies:
We neuer (wretched Mariners)
Do make our recknings by those starres
That wandring still rowle to and froe,
We might be much deceiued so.
But such as do not range nor role,
But are still fixed neere the pole,
And neuer in Neptunus deepes
His fiery twinkling torchet steepes:
But alwayes shines in one set place,
By it we doe direct our race:
And when this starre aloft doth tend,
And that the lesser Beare is kend,
Iust poynting on my maine yards end.
The Bospheros maine we doe explore,
And Seas that Circle Scythias shore.
But if Arctophilax discend,
The least poynt from our Top-masts end,
And that the little Beare appeare
Vnto the seas somewhat more neere,
For Syrias ports our course we steere.
But with Canopas, South we runne,
For he the Northerne clime doth shunne.
Or if he keepe our Larbord side,
And so our helme for Pharos guide:
Then in the middle of that maine,
Our ships vpon the Syrts might straine.
And long, these Nauall Courses sought,
And secret mysteries of the skies,
In this sort vnto him replies:
We neuer (wretched Mariners)
Do make our recknings by those starres
That wandring still rowle to and froe,
We might be much deceiued so.
But such as do not range nor role,
But are still fixed neere the pole,
And neuer in Neptunus deepes
His fiery twinkling torchet steepes:
But alwayes shines in one set place,
By it we doe direct our race:
And when this starre aloft doth tend,
And that the lesser Beare is kend,
Iust poynting on my maine yards end.
The Bospheros maine we doe explore,
And Seas that Circle Scythias shore.
But if Arctophilax discend,
The least poynt from our Top-masts end,
And that the little Beare appeare
Vnto the seas somewhat more neere,
For Syrias ports our course we steere.
But with Canopas, South we runne,
For he the Northerne clime doth shunne.
Or if he keepe our Larbord side,
And so our helme for Pharos guide:
Then in the middle of that maine,
Our ships vpon the Syrts might straine.
But now I would be glad to know
Your will, and whither you would goe:
And what coast fits best your auaile,
Accordingly to set our saile.
Pompey to this vnconstantly
With doubtfull humour doth reply.
Alwayes (quoth he) for our behoofe,
See in those seas you keepe aloofe
That are from Thessaly remote,
And neere Hesperia do not flote.
Shunne you those seas or shores to finde,
Commit the rest vnto the winde.
My wife aboord with me shall stay,
From Lesbos I tooke her away;
Thither I did a due course bend,
But Fortune now a port must lend.
Thus hauing said, the Pilot hailes,
The Marriners do cut their sailes.
The sheats that equally inclin'd,
But spooned iust before the wind.
He veares now to the larboord side,
One tacke vnto the prow he tide,
The other on the sturne belayes,
And to Assinas coast assaies;
And where the surging billow shockes
Alongst the Isle of Chyos rockes.
Now angry Neptune frothing chides,
Whilst that the ship thus stemmes the tides:
And all the while she holds her course,
He roring fometh worse and worse.
With no such ease and speedy change
The Coach-man can his Charret range
From right hand to the left hand side,
When he his trampling steeds would guide:
And circling wheeles about doth trend,
First to attaine his races end.
Phœbus vnto the world giues light,
And dimmes the stars that shines by night,
When those that now did scattring flye
From this late storme in Thessaly;
With all speed after Pompey runne,
And on the seas he meetes his sonne;
Yet scarce cleare of the Lesbian coast,
And then more Princes of his hoast,
That earst to him had faithfull bin,
And in this state he now was in;
A fugitiue and ouer-throwne,
Did still to him their loue make knowne.
And many Kings with martiall traines,
That in the Easterne clymats raignes,
And other Lords of powerfull states,
For all his wracked exil'd fates,
Stood firme his faithfull constant mates.
King Deiotarus, one of those
That scap't away with Cæsars foes,
Did follow Pompey in his flight,
And was employ'd to raise new might.
To him his charge in these words giues;
Thou faithfulst king to me that liues,
Since that the Roman power and host
In the Æmathian fight is lost;
Go try the fauour of the East,
As those that need feare Cæsar least:
The Nations that the waters drinkes
Of Euphrates and Tygris brinkes.
To Pompey it shall be no griefe
In this distresse to craue reliefe
Of Medes, whereby to wage new warre,
And Scythians, though remote so farre;
But vtterly to change our clyme,
And vse requests in this hard time
To proud Arsaces for his aid,
And if old leagues be not decay'd,
But still in memory are borne:
Then by that God that I haue sworne,
The thundring Ioue of Latium land,
And by that holy reuerent band
Of Magi, that your oathes did binde,
Prepare your selues in warlike kinde:
Your quiuers fill with shaft and dart,
And your Armenian bowes for Mart,
Bended with strings of Getan Art:
And if (ô Parthians) heretore
To warre on you I haue forbore:
When I did range the Caspian maine,
And with my Army did constraine
The fierce Alani to my yoke,
And neuer did the Parthes prouoke.
None did destroy, or seeke their soyle,
Nor did enforce them to entoyle
Themselues, their children, and their wiues,
For safe-gard of their goods and liues,
Within the Babylonian walles,
Nor euer sought to make them thralles.
But when I conquer'd Persean Realmes,
And the Caldean vtmost streames.
Swift Ganges and Hydaspis fierce,
That through the Eastern lands doth pierce,
Wasting Nyseas ancient walles,
And so into the Ocean falles;
Where Phœbus lifts his shining face,
I neerer Parthes then Persia was.
Yet when I had subdu'd all these,
My Armes in nought did them disease.
Nor yet were they, mongst all the rest,
For honour of my triumphes prest.
They onely were exempt by me
Of all the Easterne Kings as free:
With such desert I did them binde,
And shall I Parthes vngratefull finde?
Nay more then this Arsaces race
At Pompeys hand hath found like grace.
For after that same bloody strife,
Where Crassus lost his host and life,
What Romans could their hands containe
From Parthes, that all our host had slaine?
Oblig'd to me by such desarts,
Let them the like shew on their parts.
Now let the Parthes with Trumpets sounds
Breake out in force beyond their bounds:
And Zeugma that same Palean Towne,
Let them surprise, or batter downe.
Yee Parthes for Pompey conquest gaine,
To conquer Rome is worth your paine.
The King did no refusall make
This hard request to vndertake;
But presently aside did lay
His Royall Robe and rich array:
And in the habit him attires
Of one of his inferior Squires.
Tis safe for Kings in ieopardie
To counterfeit base pouerty.
How much therefore doth lowly need
For safety greatest Kings exceed,
Freer from dangers and from dreed?
The King in this sort set on shore,
Pompey then plies both saile and oare,
Till he th' Icarian cliffe had past,
From Ephesus he bends his mast;
And Colophonas pleasant waues,
And Samos rockes that foaming raues.
And then a gentle puffing gale
His sailes from Coös coasts did hale.
Gnydon he leaues, and Rhodes doth shunne,
That voue their Altars to the Sunne.
Then that great bay Telmesydos
Aloofe he flies, and ouer-goes:
And from the middle of the maine
Pamphilias coast appeared plaine.
But yet he would not make aduenter
Within a walled towne to enter.
Little Phaselis was the coast
That Pompey first did make his oast.
The slender habitation there
Made him the lesse the place to feare:
The empty houses people needed,
His ship their troope by farre exceeded.
From hence againe his course he bends,
And sees how Taurus mountaine trends,
Whence Dypsas to the seas discends.
Your will, and whither you would goe:
And what coast fits best your auaile,
317
Pompey to this vnconstantly
With doubtfull humour doth reply.
Alwayes (quoth he) for our behoofe,
See in those seas you keepe aloofe
That are from Thessaly remote,
And neere Hesperia do not flote.
Shunne you those seas or shores to finde,
Commit the rest vnto the winde.
My wife aboord with me shall stay,
From Lesbos I tooke her away;
Thither I did a due course bend,
But Fortune now a port must lend.
Thus hauing said, the Pilot hailes,
The Marriners do cut their sailes.
The sheats that equally inclin'd,
But spooned iust before the wind.
He veares now to the larboord side,
One tacke vnto the prow he tide,
The other on the sturne belayes,
And to Assinas coast assaies;
And where the surging billow shockes
Alongst the Isle of Chyos rockes.
Now angry Neptune frothing chides,
Whilst that the ship thus stemmes the tides:
And all the while she holds her course,
He roring fometh worse and worse.
With no such ease and speedy change
The Coach-man can his Charret range
From right hand to the left hand side,
When he his trampling steeds would guide:
And circling wheeles about doth trend,
First to attaine his races end.
Phœbus vnto the world giues light,
And dimmes the stars that shines by night,
When those that now did scattring flye
From this late storme in Thessaly;
With all speed after Pompey runne,
And on the seas he meetes his sonne;
Yet scarce cleare of the Lesbian coast,
318
That earst to him had faithfull bin,
And in this state he now was in;
A fugitiue and ouer-throwne,
Did still to him their loue make knowne.
And many Kings with martiall traines,
That in the Easterne clymats raignes,
And other Lords of powerfull states,
For all his wracked exil'd fates,
Stood firme his faithfull constant mates.
King Deiotarus, one of those
That scap't away with Cæsars foes,
Did follow Pompey in his flight,
And was employ'd to raise new might.
To him his charge in these words giues;
Thou faithfulst king to me that liues,
Since that the Roman power and host
In the Æmathian fight is lost;
Go try the fauour of the East,
As those that need feare Cæsar least:
The Nations that the waters drinkes
Of Euphrates and Tygris brinkes.
To Pompey it shall be no griefe
In this distresse to craue reliefe
Of Medes, whereby to wage new warre,
And Scythians, though remote so farre;
But vtterly to change our clyme,
And vse requests in this hard time
To proud Arsaces for his aid,
And if old leagues be not decay'd,
But still in memory are borne:
Then by that God that I haue sworne,
The thundring Ioue of Latium land,
And by that holy reuerent band
Of Magi, that your oathes did binde,
Prepare your selues in warlike kinde:
Your quiuers fill with shaft and dart,
And your Armenian bowes for Mart,
Bended with strings of Getan Art:
And if (ô Parthians) heretore
319
When I did range the Caspian maine,
And with my Army did constraine
The fierce Alani to my yoke,
And neuer did the Parthes prouoke.
None did destroy, or seeke their soyle,
Nor did enforce them to entoyle
Themselues, their children, and their wiues,
For safe-gard of their goods and liues,
Within the Babylonian walles,
Nor euer sought to make them thralles.
But when I conquer'd Persean Realmes,
And the Caldean vtmost streames.
Swift Ganges and Hydaspis fierce,
That through the Eastern lands doth pierce,
Wasting Nyseas ancient walles,
And so into the Ocean falles;
Where Phœbus lifts his shining face,
I neerer Parthes then Persia was.
Yet when I had subdu'd all these,
My Armes in nought did them disease.
Nor yet were they, mongst all the rest,
For honour of my triumphes prest.
They onely were exempt by me
Of all the Easterne Kings as free:
With such desert I did them binde,
And shall I Parthes vngratefull finde?
Nay more then this Arsaces race
At Pompeys hand hath found like grace.
For after that same bloody strife,
Where Crassus lost his host and life,
What Romans could their hands containe
From Parthes, that all our host had slaine?
Oblig'd to me by such desarts,
Let them the like shew on their parts.
Now let the Parthes with Trumpets sounds
Breake out in force beyond their bounds:
And Zeugma that same Palean Towne,
Let them surprise, or batter downe.
Yee Parthes for Pompey conquest gaine,
320
The King did no refusall make
This hard request to vndertake;
But presently aside did lay
His Royall Robe and rich array:
And in the habit him attires
Of one of his inferior Squires.
Tis safe for Kings in ieopardie
To counterfeit base pouerty.
How much therefore doth lowly need
For safety greatest Kings exceed,
Freer from dangers and from dreed?
The King in this sort set on shore,
Pompey then plies both saile and oare,
Till he th' Icarian cliffe had past,
From Ephesus he bends his mast;
And Colophonas pleasant waues,
And Samos rockes that foaming raues.
And then a gentle puffing gale
His sailes from Coös coasts did hale.
Gnydon he leaues, and Rhodes doth shunne,
That voue their Altars to the Sunne.
Then that great bay Telmesydos
Aloofe he flies, and ouer-goes:
And from the middle of the maine
Pamphilias coast appeared plaine.
But yet he would not make aduenter
Within a walled towne to enter.
Little Phaselis was the coast
That Pompey first did make his oast.
The slender habitation there
Made him the lesse the place to feare:
The empty houses people needed,
His ship their troope by farre exceeded.
From hence againe his course he bends,
And sees how Taurus mountaine trends,
Whence Dypsas to the seas discends.
Would Pompey euer this suspected
When he the Pyrates force subiected,
Or euer in his minde haue thought
That to this stresse he should be brought
For safety so to range the maine,
In one poore ship with so small traine.
But now the Senates greatest part
Escaped from Pharsalias Mart,
Together met, though put in rout,
And at the length found Pompey out;
At anchor in the little port
Calendrys hight, where great resort
Of shipping passeth to and froe,
As Selyns streame doth ebbe or flow.
Pompey at length with heauy cheere,
Desired them these words to heare;
Companions deere in warre and flight,
The modell of our Countries right:
Although that now to this bare coast
By wretched Fortune we be tost,
Consulting on Cylicias strands,
Not guarded with our armed bands:
Yet now we must begin againe
New proiects, warres to entertaine.
To your braue mindes good comfort yeeld,
All fell not in Pharsalias field:
Nor am I so with fate opprest,
But that I can raise vp my crest,
And scorne the blow that vs distrest.
Could Marius in the Lybicke soyle
Repaire againe his bitter foyle,
And win to him a Consuls state,
And fixe his fame in Roman date?
And thinke you I through Fortunes spight
Will be supprest with lesser might?
In Grecian seas for my auaile
I doe retaine a thousand saile,
And haue as many Captaines more
That will attend me on the shore.
Our force this battaile rather parted
Then any way the same subverted.
My fame that is of such account,
Can easily this losse surmount.
The whole worlds force I soone will moue,
My onely name so much they loue.
Do you consider and aduise
What Realmes or States most fittest lies
To serue vs now for our availe,
Whose force and faith will not vs faile:
Whether that Lybia be the place,
Or Ægypt now as stands the case,
Or Parthians friendship we embrace.
Which of all these you estimate
Worthiest to aid the Roman state.
For me, my Lords, I will disclose
In my conceit what I suppose:
And all my reasons lay downe flat
That leads my minde to this or that.
The Nylus King is but a youth,
And that makes me to doubt his truth;
For constant faith more sure doth rest
Within a graue and manly breast.
The Moore I do no whit applaud,
We all do know them full of fraud.
And how that wicked Carthage race
Hath alwayes practis'd Romes disgrace
We right well know; and that there rests
More Hanniballes yet in their breasts.
And as for the Numidian Kings,
That now from bastards races springs,
Whose murdrous hands the blood distaines
Of their true lawfull soueraignes;
And did of late with so great pride
Varus that led our force, deride;
Who sought his aid, and with disgrace
Alotted Rome a second place.
This makes me thinke tis best we proue
Our friends by East, and trust their loue.
Great Euphrates with his vaste streames
Diuides and boundeth many Realmes.
The Caspian sea hath limits large,
And harbours safe within his varge.
In other sort the heauens aspects,
Th' Assirian dayes and nights directs.
That sea is of another staine,
And flat secluded from our maine:
Their people conquering humors beare,
And for the warres large Coursers reare.
VVith stronger bowes they battaile wage,
The yong and old, and euery age
Affects his vigrous draught to show,
Each arrow giues a deadly blow.
The Parthes were first that brake the rankes
Of Alexanders piked slanks.
And Bactra that same Citty great
VVonne from the Medes, their Regal seate,
And Babylon with walles so hye,
That doth Assiria dignifie.
Our Piles the Parthians holds slight,
And in the field with vs dare fight:
And with what force Scythes arrowes flye,
Crassus defeat too well did try:
They haue not onely heads of steele,
VVhose piercing force their foes do feele;
But poyson on those heads they fixe,
So as if any place it prickes,
The smallest wound death with it brings,
And all the blood with venome mings.
When he the Pyrates force subiected,
Or euer in his minde haue thought
321
For safety so to range the maine,
In one poore ship with so small traine.
But now the Senates greatest part
Escaped from Pharsalias Mart,
Together met, though put in rout,
And at the length found Pompey out;
At anchor in the little port
Calendrys hight, where great resort
Of shipping passeth to and froe,
As Selyns streame doth ebbe or flow.
Pompey at length with heauy cheere,
Desired them these words to heare;
Companions deere in warre and flight,
The modell of our Countries right:
Although that now to this bare coast
By wretched Fortune we be tost,
Consulting on Cylicias strands,
Not guarded with our armed bands:
Yet now we must begin againe
New proiects, warres to entertaine.
To your braue mindes good comfort yeeld,
All fell not in Pharsalias field:
Nor am I so with fate opprest,
But that I can raise vp my crest,
And scorne the blow that vs distrest.
Could Marius in the Lybicke soyle
Repaire againe his bitter foyle,
And win to him a Consuls state,
And fixe his fame in Roman date?
And thinke you I through Fortunes spight
Will be supprest with lesser might?
In Grecian seas for my auaile
I doe retaine a thousand saile,
And haue as many Captaines more
That will attend me on the shore.
Our force this battaile rather parted
Then any way the same subverted.
My fame that is of such account,
Can easily this losse surmount.
322
My onely name so much they loue.
Do you consider and aduise
What Realmes or States most fittest lies
To serue vs now for our availe,
Whose force and faith will not vs faile:
Whether that Lybia be the place,
Or Ægypt now as stands the case,
Or Parthians friendship we embrace.
Which of all these you estimate
Worthiest to aid the Roman state.
For me, my Lords, I will disclose
In my conceit what I suppose:
And all my reasons lay downe flat
That leads my minde to this or that.
The Nylus King is but a youth,
And that makes me to doubt his truth;
For constant faith more sure doth rest
Within a graue and manly breast.
The Moore I do no whit applaud,
We all do know them full of fraud.
And how that wicked Carthage race
Hath alwayes practis'd Romes disgrace
We right well know; and that there rests
More Hanniballes yet in their breasts.
And as for the Numidian Kings,
That now from bastards races springs,
Whose murdrous hands the blood distaines
Of their true lawfull soueraignes;
And did of late with so great pride
Varus that led our force, deride;
Who sought his aid, and with disgrace
Alotted Rome a second place.
This makes me thinke tis best we proue
Our friends by East, and trust their loue.
Great Euphrates with his vaste streames
Diuides and boundeth many Realmes.
The Caspian sea hath limits large,
And harbours safe within his varge.
In other sort the heauens aspects,
323
That sea is of another staine,
And flat secluded from our maine:
Their people conquering humors beare,
And for the warres large Coursers reare.
VVith stronger bowes they battaile wage,
The yong and old, and euery age
Affects his vigrous draught to show,
Each arrow giues a deadly blow.
The Parthes were first that brake the rankes
Of Alexanders piked slanks.
And Bactra that same Citty great
VVonne from the Medes, their Regal seate,
And Babylon with walles so hye,
That doth Assiria dignifie.
Our Piles the Parthians holds slight,
And in the field with vs dare fight:
And with what force Scythes arrowes flye,
Crassus defeat too well did try:
They haue not onely heads of steele,
VVhose piercing force their foes do feele;
But poyson on those heads they fixe,
So as if any place it prickes,
The smallest wound death with it brings,
And all the blood with venome mings.
VVould God no cause did me encline
To trust to proud Arsaces line.
These Parthes with their subsisting fate
Our Empire still did emulate:
And all the heauenly powers with grace
Haue lookt vpon the Parthian race.
But I would also send for bands,
And valiant troopes from other lands.
The furthest East I would incite
To send to vs their Martiall might.
But if the Easterne faith refuse,
So as their aid we cannot vse,
And the Barbarian leagues doe faile,
Let Fortune strike my ship-wracke saile,
And me conuay to vnknowne coasts,
Neuer subdu'd by Roman hoasts.
I neuer basely meane to pray
Their aid, that earst did me obay.
Twill comfort me when as I dye,
That in strange climes my limbes shall lye,
Whereby proud Cæsar shall not haue
The power to grace or wrong my graue.
And I will onely meditate
The glory past of my liues fate,
Which that worlds part did celebrate.
What was beyond Meotis lake,
And what scope Tannais did take
With her streames trending in the East,
So farre hath my renowne encreast.
To what lands hath my name more runne
For famous conquests by me wonne?
Or else from whence hath my desarts
More triumphs gaind then from those parts?
To trust to proud Arsaces line.
These Parthes with their subsisting fate
Our Empire still did emulate:
And all the heauenly powers with grace
Haue lookt vpon the Parthian race.
But I would also send for bands,
And valiant troopes from other lands.
The furthest East I would incite
To send to vs their Martiall might.
But if the Easterne faith refuse,
So as their aid we cannot vse,
And the Barbarian leagues doe faile,
Let Fortune strike my ship-wracke saile,
And me conuay to vnknowne coasts,
324
I neuer basely meane to pray
Their aid, that earst did me obay.
Twill comfort me when as I dye,
That in strange climes my limbes shall lye,
Whereby proud Cæsar shall not haue
The power to grace or wrong my graue.
And I will onely meditate
The glory past of my liues fate,
Which that worlds part did celebrate.
What was beyond Meotis lake,
And what scope Tannais did take
With her streames trending in the East,
So farre hath my renowne encreast.
To what lands hath my name more runne
For famous conquests by me wonne?
Or else from whence hath my desarts
More triumphs gaind then from those parts?
O Rome! my enterprise now guide,
VVhat greater boone can heauens betide
To thee, then in this ciuill Mart
To see the Parthians beare a part;
So to consume them with our Armes,
And mix their wrackes amongst our harmes.
For when that Cæsars forces stands
Encountring with the Parthian bands,
Fortune must me the victor make,
Or else for Crassus vengeance take.
Thus said, he saw the Senates minde
Stood not to his aduice enclin'd.
But Lentulus amonst the rest
VVhom vertues courage forwards prest,
And noble griefe for Roman fate
He holding then the Consuls state,
His worthy voyce did eleuate.
VVhat greater boone can heauens betide
To thee, then in this ciuill Mart
To see the Parthians beare a part;
So to consume them with our Armes,
And mix their wrackes amongst our harmes.
For when that Cæsars forces stands
Encountring with the Parthian bands,
Fortune must me the victor make,
Or else for Crassus vengeance take.
Thus said, he saw the Senates minde
Stood not to his aduice enclin'd.
But Lentulus amonst the rest
VVhom vertues courage forwards prest,
And noble griefe for Roman fate
He holding then the Consuls state,
His worthy voyce did eleuate.
Hath so this late Thessalian blow
Thy minde deiected and brought low?
Hath one dayes fate the world opprest?
Must we amongst our selues contest?
Now after this Æmathian wound,
Doth that all hope of helpe confound?
Hath Fortune Pompey all bereft,
That he in Parthians hands is left?
Why shouldst thou as a runnagate,
So range the world to mend thy fate?
In forraine climes, and in such lands
As to our state malignant stands?
And stars that vs no good lucke bods
Wilt thou adore Chaldean Gods?
And with Barbarian rites polluted,
Be now the Parthians thrall reputed?
Why did we first to armes discend,
Our libertie but to defend?
O wretch thou didst the world delude
If thou canst liue in seruitude.
Shall Parth that thee beheld with hate,
A ruler in the Roman state?
That saw thee from Hyrcania leade
Great kings thy captiues; and with dread
Beheld the Indians conquered.
See thee deiected and cast downe,
And basely yeeld to fortunes frowne.
Whilst they puft vp in mind with pride,
Do but the Latium name deride.
And value Rome lesse then their state,
To see thee so degenerate.
O Pompey in thy speech we finde,
Nought suting with thy worth or mind,
The Parth that doth not vnderstand
The language of the Latium land,
When thou of him dost aide request,
By teares thy mind must be exprest.
Shall we this wounding scorne endure,
That Parths shall our reuenge procure?
Rather then Rome with her owne armes
Shall remedy Hesperias harmes.
Did she for this thee chieftaine make,
That thou no more regard shouldst take,
But spread abroad with such disgrace,
Her maymes vnto the Scythian race,
And secret scarres; her to deface.
What wilt thou teach the Parthian swarmes,
The way to vexe vs with their armes?
Hath Rome the hoped comfort lost,
Of such a warre and such an host?
Because no kings she would obey,
But that her Citizens should sway,
And wilt thou now the wide world range,
To bring whole nations fierce and strange
To ransacke Rome? that will display
Those ensignes that they wonne away
From Crassus, when they vanquished,
And must from Euphrates be led,
And here to our disgrace be spred?
That king that vs his aide denide,
When as our Fortune was vntride,
And came not to Emathia field,
To vs will he now comfort yeeld,
And so prouoke the victors spight,
Whom he doth heare to be of might.
And now will Pompeys fortunes runne;
Such trust with them did neuer wonne.
The nations of the Northerne climes,
Where fals the dewes and foggie rimes,
Are stout in warre and feare not death,
But those that in the East take breath,
And leade their liues in warmer soyles,
Luld in sweet aire, hate martiall broyles.
You see what loose attires and vailes
Their men do weare that flit like sailes,
The Parth vpon the Median fields
And Sarmates downes that large scope yeelds
And on those plains by Tygris bankes,
VVhen they in length may streach their ranks
And at their pleasure come and goe,
Cannot be vanquisht by a foe,
But where the soyle is full of hills
These horsmen come not by their wills,
Their roaming bow can make no fight,
In bushie straights, or in the night
When need requires they neuer guides
Their horse to swim from sides to sides,
Nor with their armes stem streaming tides.
Nor yet will they their fight make good,
When as their bodies bathe in blood:
Nor yet endure the parching heate,
Nor in the dust to toyle and sweate.
They haue no engins for the warre,
For rams they know not what they are,
They want the art a trench to fill,
And he the Parth repulseth still;
And as a wall doth him oppose,
That can keep out weake arrowes blows.
His battell weake, his warre is flight,
His troops still ranging and but slight,
A souldier fit to quit a place,
But not to put his foe to chace.
His armes defilde with poysons art,
He dares not come to handy Mart,
A farre off he his shafts doth dart.
VVith euery blast of wind they flit
And as it blowes they misse or hit.
Thy minde deiected and brought low?
Hath one dayes fate the world opprest?
Must we amongst our selues contest?
Now after this Æmathian wound,
325
Hath Fortune Pompey all bereft,
That he in Parthians hands is left?
Why shouldst thou as a runnagate,
So range the world to mend thy fate?
In forraine climes, and in such lands
As to our state malignant stands?
And stars that vs no good lucke bods
Wilt thou adore Chaldean Gods?
And with Barbarian rites polluted,
Be now the Parthians thrall reputed?
Why did we first to armes discend,
Our libertie but to defend?
O wretch thou didst the world delude
If thou canst liue in seruitude.
Shall Parth that thee beheld with hate,
A ruler in the Roman state?
That saw thee from Hyrcania leade
Great kings thy captiues; and with dread
Beheld the Indians conquered.
See thee deiected and cast downe,
And basely yeeld to fortunes frowne.
Whilst they puft vp in mind with pride,
Do but the Latium name deride.
And value Rome lesse then their state,
To see thee so degenerate.
O Pompey in thy speech we finde,
Nought suting with thy worth or mind,
The Parth that doth not vnderstand
The language of the Latium land,
When thou of him dost aide request,
By teares thy mind must be exprest.
Shall we this wounding scorne endure,
That Parths shall our reuenge procure?
Rather then Rome with her owne armes
Shall remedy Hesperias harmes.
Did she for this thee chieftaine make,
That thou no more regard shouldst take,
But spread abroad with such disgrace,
Her maymes vnto the Scythian race,
328
What wilt thou teach the Parthian swarmes,
The way to vexe vs with their armes?
Hath Rome the hoped comfort lost,
Of such a warre and such an host?
Because no kings she would obey,
But that her Citizens should sway,
And wilt thou now the wide world range,
To bring whole nations fierce and strange
To ransacke Rome? that will display
Those ensignes that they wonne away
From Crassus, when they vanquished,
And must from Euphrates be led,
And here to our disgrace be spred?
That king that vs his aide denide,
When as our Fortune was vntride,
And came not to Emathia field,
To vs will he now comfort yeeld,
And so prouoke the victors spight,
Whom he doth heare to be of might.
And now will Pompeys fortunes runne;
Such trust with them did neuer wonne.
The nations of the Northerne climes,
Where fals the dewes and foggie rimes,
Are stout in warre and feare not death,
But those that in the East take breath,
And leade their liues in warmer soyles,
Luld in sweet aire, hate martiall broyles.
You see what loose attires and vailes
Their men do weare that flit like sailes,
The Parth vpon the Median fields
And Sarmates downes that large scope yeelds
And on those plains by Tygris bankes,
VVhen they in length may streach their ranks
And at their pleasure come and goe,
Cannot be vanquisht by a foe,
But where the soyle is full of hills
These horsmen come not by their wills,
Their roaming bow can make no fight,
In bushie straights, or in the night
327
Their horse to swim from sides to sides,
Nor with their armes stem streaming tides.
Nor yet will they their fight make good,
When as their bodies bathe in blood:
Nor yet endure the parching heate,
Nor in the dust to toyle and sweate.
They haue no engins for the warre,
For rams they know not what they are,
They want the art a trench to fill,
And he the Parth repulseth still;
And as a wall doth him oppose,
That can keep out weake arrowes blows.
His battell weake, his warre is flight,
His troops still ranging and but slight,
A souldier fit to quit a place,
But not to put his foe to chace.
His armes defilde with poysons art,
He dares not come to handy Mart,
A farre off he his shafts doth dart.
VVith euery blast of wind they flit
And as it blowes they misse or hit.
The sword is of more great import,
And best with valiant men doth sort,
The Fauchion sharpe; but the first fight
Disarmes the Parths of all their might,
For when their quiuers emptied are,
They do retire and end their warre,
They neuer trust vnto their hands,
In poysned shafts their furie stands.
O Pompey in the chance of warre,
Thinkst thou it doth nor make nor marre,
VVhether the souldier do prouide
A trusty sword girt to his side?
And doth thy case thee so constraine,
That thou wouldst worthlesse aid retaine?
And nations so remote wouldst trie,
And out of thine owne countrey die?
Is some Barbarian land design'd,
The place where thou thy graue must find?
There some base shrine thy lims shall haue,
Since they would not vouchsafe a graue,
To Crassus that his fate complaines,
But better hap for thee remains.
For our last paine with death is fled,
Which manly hearts do neuer dread.
For death Cornelia needs not care
That wicked King her life will spare.
We well do know the barbarous rites
That they do vse in loues delights,
And how like to the brutish beasts,
All humane laws their lusts detests.
With wiues they neuer contracts hold,
But like to swine they do vnfold
The secrets of the nuptiall bed,
And that same Tyrants court is sped
With thousands for his concubines,
After his feasts and change of wines.
One man prouoketh his delight
With sundry women euery night,
The brothers with the sisters weds,
The sonnes defile their mothers beds,
That wicked rumour that doth run
Of Oedepus that Theban sonne,
How doth the world condemne and loth,
Although vnwitting to them both,
How often hath Arsaces race,
That holds in Parth the regall place,
By this incestious sauage moode
Commixed bene with slauish blood.
So as great Scipios noble child,
Shall not all onely be defilde,
But with a thousand more be wed,
As wiues to this Barbarians bed.
Although his kingly lust and flame,
Stird vp with beauty of the dame.
And glory of her husbands name
Will make him more to her incline,
Then any other Concubine.
For how much more the Parth delights,
In humane wrackes and foule despights,
He wil know her for Crassus mate,
As destin'd to the Parthian fate,
And deeme that she her selfe must owe
A captiue for that ouer-throw.
O let that miserable foyle
Of Easterne wounds, in thy breast boyle:
And bee not onely thou asham'd
That to a base King thou hast fram'd
Petitions, for to lend thee aid;
Burbe thou all as much dismaid,
That first thou ciuill armes displaid:
For no fault more the people loth
Acted by thee and Cæsar both,
Then that you two by ciuill warre
Reuenge for Crassus doe debarre.
Our Captaines all should then haue tryde
Their force against their Parthian pride,
And rather then haue Armies wanted,
The Northern climes should haue displanted
And from the Dakes and from the Rhene
The Roman Legions withdrawen cleane,
And so strong forces to prouide,
Haue bar'd the Empire on that side.
Vntill perfidious Susis towne,
And Babylon they had throwne downe.
To serue the Crassi for their tombe,
As monuments to honour Rome.
To fortune we our prayers send,
That with the Parths our peace may end.
And if Thessalias battell past,
Hath giuen this ciuill warre his last,
Let him that conquest doth enioy,
Against the Parths his force employ.
That nation of the world alone
I could be glad were ouerthrowne
By Cæsars armes, and that for it,
He might in triumphs charret sit,
Thinke that ere thou with sucst an host
Couldst passe Araxes frozen cost.
Old Crassus shade with heauy cheare,
Stitcht full of darts would first appeare
Before thy face; and thus would speake
O thou that shouldst due vengeance wreake,
For this huge slaughter on vs made,
Thou whom we did our hopes perswade,
Wouldst giue our naked bones a graue,
That now in mould no rest can haue,
Camst thou a league and peace to craue:
Then will those slaughters memories,
Present themselues before thine eyes,
When on the walls with stakes yborne,
Those heads thou seest set vp in scorne,
And Euphrates that did confound
So many Lords in her streames drownd,
And Tygris that our bodies slaine,
Did vnder earth a time retaine,
And then disgorged them againe.
If with thy mind thou canst dispense,
To passe by these without offence,
As well maist thou ô Pompey yeeld
Thy selfe vnto Pharsalias field,
Where Cæsar sitting Conquerour.
Thou mercy maist of him emplore.
But better weigh our Roman cause,
If thou dost feare those Tyrants paws,
That in the South haue residence,
And Iubas faithlesse insolence.
Let Pharus King of vs be prayd,
And Lagus Realme to yeeld vs ayd,
The Lybicke Syrts do safely bound
Vpon this side Ægyptian ground.
And Nylus from all forreine foes,
With his seuen heads doth it inclose
On tother side; and tis a land
That of it selfe can liue and stand
Contentedly; and needs not craue
Her neighbors helpe; nor showres to haue
Nylus doth so her pastures laue.
Whose scepter Ptolemie a boy
And regall crowne doth now enioy.
Besides to Pompey he doth rest
Oblig'd, and by his sires bequest
Thy pupill is, then who would feare
A name that doth but shadow beares.
His age as yet from guile is free,
Such faith you could not looke to see,
Such lawes or such integrities,
Nor seruice to the Deities.
In that kings court that raigned last,
Long rule all right doth ouercast.
Vnder a king that newly raignes,
All things are milde, noe force constraines.
No more he sayd, this swaid their mind,
What libertie last hopes do finde?
To Pompeys censure none enclinde.
And best with valiant men doth sort,
The Fauchion sharpe; but the first fight
Disarmes the Parths of all their might,
For when their quiuers emptied are,
They do retire and end their warre,
They neuer trust vnto their hands,
In poysned shafts their furie stands.
O Pompey in the chance of warre,
Thinkst thou it doth nor make nor marre,
VVhether the souldier do prouide
A trusty sword girt to his side?
And doth thy case thee so constraine,
That thou wouldst worthlesse aid retaine?
And nations so remote wouldst trie,
And out of thine owne countrey die?
Is some Barbarian land design'd,
The place where thou thy graue must find?
328
Since they would not vouchsafe a graue,
To Crassus that his fate complaines,
But better hap for thee remains.
For our last paine with death is fled,
Which manly hearts do neuer dread.
For death Cornelia needs not care
That wicked King her life will spare.
We well do know the barbarous rites
That they do vse in loues delights,
And how like to the brutish beasts,
All humane laws their lusts detests.
With wiues they neuer contracts hold,
But like to swine they do vnfold
The secrets of the nuptiall bed,
And that same Tyrants court is sped
With thousands for his concubines,
After his feasts and change of wines.
One man prouoketh his delight
With sundry women euery night,
The brothers with the sisters weds,
The sonnes defile their mothers beds,
That wicked rumour that doth run
Of Oedepus that Theban sonne,
How doth the world condemne and loth,
Although vnwitting to them both,
How often hath Arsaces race,
That holds in Parth the regall place,
By this incestious sauage moode
Commixed bene with slauish blood.
So as great Scipios noble child,
Shall not all onely be defilde,
But with a thousand more be wed,
As wiues to this Barbarians bed.
Although his kingly lust and flame,
Stird vp with beauty of the dame.
And glory of her husbands name
Will make him more to her incline,
Then any other Concubine.
For how much more the Parth delights,
329
He wil know her for Crassus mate,
As destin'd to the Parthian fate,
And deeme that she her selfe must owe
A captiue for that ouer-throw.
O let that miserable foyle
Of Easterne wounds, in thy breast boyle:
And bee not onely thou asham'd
That to a base King thou hast fram'd
Petitions, for to lend thee aid;
Burbe thou all as much dismaid,
That first thou ciuill armes displaid:
For no fault more the people loth
Acted by thee and Cæsar both,
Then that you two by ciuill warre
Reuenge for Crassus doe debarre.
Our Captaines all should then haue tryde
Their force against their Parthian pride,
And rather then haue Armies wanted,
The Northern climes should haue displanted
And from the Dakes and from the Rhene
The Roman Legions withdrawen cleane,
And so strong forces to prouide,
Haue bar'd the Empire on that side.
Vntill perfidious Susis towne,
And Babylon they had throwne downe.
To serue the Crassi for their tombe,
As monuments to honour Rome.
To fortune we our prayers send,
That with the Parths our peace may end.
And if Thessalias battell past,
Hath giuen this ciuill warre his last,
Let him that conquest doth enioy,
Against the Parths his force employ.
That nation of the world alone
I could be glad were ouerthrowne
By Cæsars armes, and that for it,
He might in triumphs charret sit,
Thinke that ere thou with sucst an host
Couldst passe Araxes frozen cost.
330
Stitcht full of darts would first appeare
Before thy face; and thus would speake
O thou that shouldst due vengeance wreake,
For this huge slaughter on vs made,
Thou whom we did our hopes perswade,
Wouldst giue our naked bones a graue,
That now in mould no rest can haue,
Camst thou a league and peace to craue:
Then will those slaughters memories,
Present themselues before thine eyes,
When on the walls with stakes yborne,
Those heads thou seest set vp in scorne,
And Euphrates that did confound
So many Lords in her streames drownd,
And Tygris that our bodies slaine,
Did vnder earth a time retaine,
And then disgorged them againe.
If with thy mind thou canst dispense,
To passe by these without offence,
As well maist thou ô Pompey yeeld
Thy selfe vnto Pharsalias field,
Where Cæsar sitting Conquerour.
Thou mercy maist of him emplore.
But better weigh our Roman cause,
If thou dost feare those Tyrants paws,
That in the South haue residence,
And Iubas faithlesse insolence.
Let Pharus King of vs be prayd,
And Lagus Realme to yeeld vs ayd,
The Lybicke Syrts do safely bound
Vpon this side Ægyptian ground.
And Nylus from all forreine foes,
With his seuen heads doth it inclose
On tother side; and tis a land
That of it selfe can liue and stand
Contentedly; and needs not craue
Her neighbors helpe; nor showres to haue
Nylus doth so her pastures laue.
Whose scepter Ptolemie a boy
331
Besides to Pompey he doth rest
Oblig'd, and by his sires bequest
Thy pupill is, then who would feare
A name that doth but shadow beares.
His age as yet from guile is free,
Such faith you could not looke to see,
Such lawes or such integrities,
Nor seruice to the Deities.
In that kings court that raigned last,
Long rule all right doth ouercast.
Vnder a king that newly raignes,
All things are milde, noe force constraines.
No more he sayd, this swaid their mind,
What libertie last hopes do finde?
To Pompeys censure none enclinde.
Then they Cilician coasts forsake,
And saile for Cyprus Isle doe make,
Where Venus mindfull of that place,
In Paphos for the Ilands grace
Her Altars keepes whence spring her race.
If we may thinke that on the earth,
The heauenly powers may take their birth.
Or that the Gods (as some do raue)
Like humane wights beginnings haue.
When Pompey from this harbour wends,
About the Cyprian cliffes he trends,
And Southward doth his way direct,
But with contrary tides was checkt
That do alongst those channels sweepe,
Neither doth he a straight course keepe
Towards mount Cassium, by the light
That Pharus tower sets out at night.
But fell with Ægypts lowest shore,
Scarce stemming tides with sayle and oare.
And hardly thither got withall
Where Nylus parted greatest fall
With her seuenth streame and mighty sway,
Doth fall into Pelusium bay.
It was the season and the time
When Libra being in her prime,
Indifferently the ballance swayes,
With equall lengths of nights and daies.
And Autums solstice now requits,
By lengthning her ensuing nights,
The houres that were tane away
By springs solstice increasing day.
Now when that Pompey had descride
That Egypts king did then reside
Neare Cassius mount he tacks about,
Seeking a way to find him out,
For yet did neither daylight faile,
Nor had the ship yet stroken saile.
And saile for Cyprus Isle doe make,
Where Venus mindfull of that place,
In Paphos for the Ilands grace
Her Altars keepes whence spring her race.
If we may thinke that on the earth,
The heauenly powers may take their birth.
Or that the Gods (as some do raue)
Like humane wights beginnings haue.
When Pompey from this harbour wends,
About the Cyprian cliffes he trends,
And Southward doth his way direct,
But with contrary tides was checkt
That do alongst those channels sweepe,
Neither doth he a straight course keepe
Towards mount Cassium, by the light
That Pharus tower sets out at night.
But fell with Ægypts lowest shore,
Scarce stemming tides with sayle and oare.
And hardly thither got withall
Where Nylus parted greatest fall
With her seuenth streame and mighty sway,
Doth fall into Pelusium bay.
It was the season and the time
332
Indifferently the ballance swayes,
With equall lengths of nights and daies.
And Autums solstice now requits,
By lengthning her ensuing nights,
The houres that were tane away
By springs solstice increasing day.
Now when that Pompey had descride
That Egypts king did then reside
Neare Cassius mount he tacks about,
Seeking a way to find him out,
For yet did neither daylight faile,
Nor had the ship yet stroken saile.
Forthwith the horse scouts that did stand
For Centinels alongst the land,
Alarums gaue to all the shores
And sild the court with great vprores.
The sudden comming of this man,
For Counsell small time gaue them than.
Yet all the vipers of that Court
To consultation did resort
Amongst the rest of all which Peeres,
One Achoreus full of yeeres,
A reuerent sire, whom schooling age
More modest made, and free from rage.
He was a natiue of that soyle
That flowing Nylus doth entoyle.
In Memphis he receiu'd his lore,
That doth vaine Rites so much adore,
VVhere hee had long time exercis'd
(As Priest) the lawes they had deuis'd,
In honour of that horned beast
VVhich they with deity inuest:
To whom for name they Apis giue,
Many of which hee did out-liue.
This Achoreus counsell gaue,
That faith and merite ought to haue
A great respect vnto it borne,
And that they ought not hold in scorne
The plighted league and vowes of loue
That this Kings father did approue.
And vnto Pompey still profest,
By whom his kingdome he possest,
For what quoth he can mortals bind
To friendship in a higher kind,
If kings and states no faith maintaine,
How shall the vulgar truth retaine?
When they by higher powers are taught
All loyall trust to set at naught.
Why do all kings their subiects sweare
Fidelitie to them to beare,
If that the kings owne actions teach?
Of vowes and leagues to make a breach?
When due respects failes in the head,
How will the members be misled,
We see that all the world is bent
To seeke the way that Princes went.
All kings by Ceremonies stand,
By lawes they rule with powerfull hand.
But if those lawes they vioalate,
They weaken then their owne estate.
For where we setled order swayes
Who there can rule, or who obayes?
Where Iustice force doth strike no stroke,
It there dissolues subiections yoake.
When kings themselues lawlesse grow,
They hazard then to ouerthrow
Their owne estate; and teach that mind
That is ambitiously enclind,
How to aspire by fraud or might,
To reaue away their soueraignes right.
He that no good deserts obserues,
The like at others hands deserues.
Thy father did by Pompeys grace
Of Soueraigntie obtaine this place,
And so thy selfe enioyes this land,
VVhich he receiu'd at Pompeys hand.
For it he dy'd in Pompeys debt,
VVhich fauour thou maist not forget.
For thereby shall the Romane state,
Esteeme thee but a Prince ingrate.
And Cæsars selfe condemne thy mind
As most disloyall and vnkind.
And thinke how much thou wouldst him scorne,
If he in like state were forlorne;
And forc'd thy royall aid to craue,
Of whom a friend no helpe could haue.
In his braue mind he will thee deeme,
A Prince of worth and more esteeme
For fauouring Pompey in distresse,
That at thy hands deserues no lesse,
Then now to vse him with disdaine,
In hope thereby Cæsar to gaine.
A foe that man will dignifie,
That helps his friend in miserie:
Though treasons act secure his state,
Yet Cæsar will the traytor hate,
And thinke that thou to none dost beare
Good will, but such as grows by feare,
And therefore will the Roman state
Deeme that thou didst both parties hate.
But do not enuy'd courses proue,
Thy greatnes rather ground on loue.
With kings the noble Lyons port,
Then Foxes wiles, doth better sort.
Pompey againe his head may raise,
As Marius did in former dayes:
Or if not so, yet are we sure,
The Romane Empire will endure,
For her foundation doth not stand,
By Cæsars or by Pompeys hand.
Her Peeres, her people, and her powre,
One battell cannot so deuoure;
That we should thinke we may disdaine
Her Empire that doth still remaine.
The bloody field at Cannas fought,
More slaughter then Pharsalia wrought.
And though that the Trebeian fight,
And Tracimene did giue them flight,
Yet Romes estate subsisted still,
And did reuenge her selfe at will.
For Hannibal was vanquished,
And Carthage Empire ruined.
Though thou no aide to Pompey giue,
Yet like a king his wants releiue,
And giue him safetie in thy lands,
That custome with all Nations stands.
For Cæsars selfe hath tride like grace
When he did flie from Syllas face,
And for the safetie of his head,
Vnto king Nichomedes fled,
And therefore doth by practise know,
That kings in honour ought to show
Remorse on him that comes a guest:
For kings themselues may be distrest.
And Ptolomie thy father late,
Oppressed by his fathers hate,
Was aided by the Roman state.
Though Cæsar for a time may raigne,
Yet Rome doth Monarchie disdaine.
And her braue spirits that still liu'd free,
To vassallage will not agree.
Meane while defile not thou thy youth,
Vngratefully vnto that truth
That heretofore hath shewde such grace
To thee, and to thy kingly race.
Thy dying father did commend
The care of thee as to a frend,
To Pompeys trust, which in iust sort
He did discharge and thee support.
If this may not oblige thy mind,
Who right of thee can hope to find.,
Be well aduisd and stand in awe,
The worlds defame on thee to draw
In thy yong yeares, for such a staine
Will all thy life on thee remaine.
The vessell alwayes holdeth fast
The sent wherof it first did tast.
But if thou wilt nor Pompey lend
Thy aides; that Cæsar may offend;
Nor in thy kingdome let him rest
For safegard of his life distrest,
Not with thy bountie him relieue
That to thy fire this Crowne did giue.
Yet him dismisse in courteous sort,
When he sets saile to leaue this port.
Harme not his life, he was thy frend,
For that would men and Gods offend
All those that such vile acts haue done,
Into the like mishaps haue runne.
Busyris that with bloody vaine
All strangers so did entertaine:
Was vsde at last with like despight
Reueng'd by the Herculean might.
He that with blood vpholds his state
The most do feare, and all do hate:
And he that hated is of all
Is sure into mischance to fall.
That Counsellor that would thee good,
Will thee dehort from Roman blood.
For though the Romans now do iarre,
And entertaine a ciuill warre.
Long will they not be so beguilde,
That mallice will be reconcilde.
Meane while this warre vnto them showes
Both fained friends and secret foes.
And mischiefe then will sure betide
To those that plaid on either side,
For when this ciuill strife is dated,
And forraine wrongs shall be debated,
O then will they reuengement haue
Of all that in their blood did raue.
Therefore it thee concernes ô king,
To looke what future change may bring.
And not alone to meditate
The present ordring of thy state.
The skilfull Pilot will not trust
The glaring Sun, but doubts a gust,
And doth accordingly prepare
To haue his sailes and tackling yare.
O Ptolomey then gouerne so,
To giue no vantage to the foe.
Nor yet to serue thy present ends,
Too carelesse bee of tried frends.
For Centinels alongst the land,
Alarums gaue to all the shores
And sild the court with great vprores.
The sudden comming of this man,
For Counsell small time gaue them than.
Yet all the vipers of that Court
To consultation did resort
Amongst the rest of all which Peeres,
One Achoreus full of yeeres,
A reuerent sire, whom schooling age
More modest made, and free from rage.
He was a natiue of that soyle
That flowing Nylus doth entoyle.
In Memphis he receiu'd his lore,
That doth vaine Rites so much adore,
VVhere hee had long time exercis'd
(As Priest) the lawes they had deuis'd,
In honour of that horned beast
VVhich they with deity inuest:
To whom for name they Apis giue,
Many of which hee did out-liue.
This Achoreus counsell gaue,
That faith and merite ought to haue
A great respect vnto it borne,
And that they ought not hold in scorne
The plighted league and vowes of loue
That this Kings father did approue.
333
By whom his kingdome he possest,
For what quoth he can mortals bind
To friendship in a higher kind,
If kings and states no faith maintaine,
How shall the vulgar truth retaine?
When they by higher powers are taught
All loyall trust to set at naught.
Why do all kings their subiects sweare
Fidelitie to them to beare,
If that the kings owne actions teach?
Of vowes and leagues to make a breach?
When due respects failes in the head,
How will the members be misled,
We see that all the world is bent
To seeke the way that Princes went.
All kings by Ceremonies stand,
By lawes they rule with powerfull hand.
But if those lawes they vioalate,
They weaken then their owne estate.
For where we setled order swayes
Who there can rule, or who obayes?
Where Iustice force doth strike no stroke,
It there dissolues subiections yoake.
When kings themselues lawlesse grow,
They hazard then to ouerthrow
Their owne estate; and teach that mind
That is ambitiously enclind,
How to aspire by fraud or might,
To reaue away their soueraignes right.
He that no good deserts obserues,
The like at others hands deserues.
Thy father did by Pompeys grace
Of Soueraigntie obtaine this place,
And so thy selfe enioyes this land,
VVhich he receiu'd at Pompeys hand.
For it he dy'd in Pompeys debt,
VVhich fauour thou maist not forget.
For thereby shall the Romane state,
Esteeme thee but a Prince ingrate.
334
As most disloyall and vnkind.
And thinke how much thou wouldst him scorne,
If he in like state were forlorne;
And forc'd thy royall aid to craue,
Of whom a friend no helpe could haue.
In his braue mind he will thee deeme,
A Prince of worth and more esteeme
For fauouring Pompey in distresse,
That at thy hands deserues no lesse,
Then now to vse him with disdaine,
In hope thereby Cæsar to gaine.
A foe that man will dignifie,
That helps his friend in miserie:
Though treasons act secure his state,
Yet Cæsar will the traytor hate,
And thinke that thou to none dost beare
Good will, but such as grows by feare,
And therefore will the Roman state
Deeme that thou didst both parties hate.
But do not enuy'd courses proue,
Thy greatnes rather ground on loue.
With kings the noble Lyons port,
Then Foxes wiles, doth better sort.
Pompey againe his head may raise,
As Marius did in former dayes:
Or if not so, yet are we sure,
The Romane Empire will endure,
For her foundation doth not stand,
By Cæsars or by Pompeys hand.
Her Peeres, her people, and her powre,
One battell cannot so deuoure;
That we should thinke we may disdaine
Her Empire that doth still remaine.
The bloody field at Cannas fought,
More slaughter then Pharsalia wrought.
And though that the Trebeian fight,
And Tracimene did giue them flight,
Yet Romes estate subsisted still,
And did reuenge her selfe at will.
335
And Carthage Empire ruined.
Though thou no aide to Pompey giue,
Yet like a king his wants releiue,
And giue him safetie in thy lands,
That custome with all Nations stands.
For Cæsars selfe hath tride like grace
When he did flie from Syllas face,
And for the safetie of his head,
Vnto king Nichomedes fled,
And therefore doth by practise know,
That kings in honour ought to show
Remorse on him that comes a guest:
For kings themselues may be distrest.
And Ptolomie thy father late,
Oppressed by his fathers hate,
Was aided by the Roman state.
Though Cæsar for a time may raigne,
Yet Rome doth Monarchie disdaine.
And her braue spirits that still liu'd free,
To vassallage will not agree.
Meane while defile not thou thy youth,
Vngratefully vnto that truth
That heretofore hath shewde such grace
To thee, and to thy kingly race.
Thy dying father did commend
The care of thee as to a frend,
To Pompeys trust, which in iust sort
He did discharge and thee support.
If this may not oblige thy mind,
Who right of thee can hope to find.,
Be well aduisd and stand in awe,
The worlds defame on thee to draw
In thy yong yeares, for such a staine
Will all thy life on thee remaine.
The vessell alwayes holdeth fast
The sent wherof it first did tast.
But if thou wilt nor Pompey lend
Thy aides; that Cæsar may offend;
Nor in thy kingdome let him rest
336
Not with thy bountie him relieue
That to thy fire this Crowne did giue.
Yet him dismisse in courteous sort,
When he sets saile to leaue this port.
Harme not his life, he was thy frend,
For that would men and Gods offend
All those that such vile acts haue done,
Into the like mishaps haue runne.
Busyris that with bloody vaine
All strangers so did entertaine:
Was vsde at last with like despight
Reueng'd by the Herculean might.
He that with blood vpholds his state
The most do feare, and all do hate:
And he that hated is of all
Is sure into mischance to fall.
That Counsellor that would thee good,
Will thee dehort from Roman blood.
For though the Romans now do iarre,
And entertaine a ciuill warre.
Long will they not be so beguilde,
That mallice will be reconcilde.
Meane while this warre vnto them showes
Both fained friends and secret foes.
And mischiefe then will sure betide
To those that plaid on either side,
For when this ciuill strife is dated,
And forraine wrongs shall be debated,
O then will they reuengement haue
Of all that in their blood did raue.
Therefore it thee concernes ô king,
To looke what future change may bring.
And not alone to meditate
The present ordring of thy state.
The skilfull Pilot will not trust
The glaring Sun, but doubts a gust,
And doth accordingly prepare
To haue his sailes and tackling yare.
O Ptolomey then gouerne so,
337
Nor yet to serue thy present ends,
Too carelesse bee of tried frends.
To this Photinus, prone to ill,
(Who better knew with flattring skill
To draw a Prince to tyrannize)
In hate of Pompey thus replies.
Rightfull respects (ô Ptolomey)
Brings many Princes to decay.
Obserued faith so much commended,
Hath with repentance often ended,
When men will striue to eleuate
That Fortune meanes to ruinate.
The Fates and Gods obserue aright
Thy wretches damn'd by their despight;
Combine thou with the happy wight.
As farre as is this earthly scope,
Distant from high heauens vaulted cope,
And fire and waues repugnant are:
So truth and profite euer iarre.
The power of Scepters then decayes,
When truthes regards their actions swayes.
Tis truly said that foolish pittie
Hath oft confounded many a Cittie.
Sly pollicie with searching ends,
Envied Kingdomes states defends.
Except the sword thou often draw
Thou canst not make thy will a law:
Do that and hold them all in awe.
O let him from a court depart,
That hath a pious tender heart.
Milde modesty and mighty power
Cannot reside in one selfe bower.
Feare still accosts Regality
That is ashamd of cruelty.
Not without ill intention borne,
Pompey thy yong yeares so doth scorne;
To thinke that thy vnconquer'd might
From these shores cannot him affright.
Such guests may not depriue thy throne,
Heires thou hast neerer of thine owne.
If Ægypts Scepter thou abhorre,
Thy banisht sister then restorre.
We will defend the kingdomes right
Against the proud Italian might.
What Pompey heretofore had not,
Shall neuer be the victors lot.
But now that Pompey is forlorne
Of all the world, and Fortunes scorne;
And no where intrest hath at all,
He seekes with what land he may fall,
His sence these ciuill broiles doe stall.
Cæsar alone doth not him fright,
But he doth shun the Senates sight;
Of whom the greatest part and powre
Thessalian vultures now deuoure.
And all those Nations he doth dread
Whose bloods together for him shed,
He basely hath abandoned.
And shames of those Kings to be knowne,
Whose Fortunes he hath ouer-throwne.
Thessaly hath him guilty tride,
Not knowing where his head to hide.
He now accosteth Ægypts soyle,
Which yet he hath not brought to spoyle.
And giues vs by this vile pretence,
Iust cause against him of offence.
For why should he engage vs so
That now rest free from warre or foe;
And seeke to bring our land and state,
So deeply into Cæsars hate?
Is ours the Realme on which in spleene
Thou faine wouldst lay Pharsalias teene,
That with thy wrackes we ruin'd beene?
Iust cause doth vs good leaue affoord
To free this perill by the sword.
But where 'tis vrg'd at thy request,
The Senate did our King inuest
With this Crowne; we for that againe,
With aids, thy quarrell did maintaine.
But now this sword worne by my side,
Which fate now bids me to prouide,
O Pompey must not thee offend,
But through the bowels shall transcend
Of him that conquer'd was of late,
I wish it rather Cæsars fate.
We driuen are to go that way
That Fortune goes, who all doth sway.
Doubtst thou (O Pompey) if it be
A course most needfull now for me
To violate thy wretched life,
When lawfull tis to free all strife?
With what hope didst thou (haples wight)
Desire vpon our coast to light?
When we are not prepar'd for warre?
Our people scarcely able are
With spades to delue those clayie lands
That Nylus softens to our hands.
Tis fit to measure our owne force,
And of our selues to take remorce.
Thou Ptolomey maist (if thou wilt)
Mend Pompeys wracke that lies now spilt,
When Rome it selfe dures for his guilt.
Dar'st thou Thessalias ashes reare
And call in warres thy realme to teare?
Before these late Pharsalian broyles
We kept our selues from martiall toyles.
Would Pompey new warres vndertake
With our hands, since all him forsake?
Would he prouoke the victors might
Againe, that hath put him to flight?
And pitty tels vs (as you say)
We should helpe wretches in decay.
But wisedome sayes, we should affect
To like those Fortune doth respect.
What foolish trust would leagues combine
With friends, in pouerty that pine?
(Who better knew with flattring skill
To draw a Prince to tyrannize)
In hate of Pompey thus replies.
Rightfull respects (ô Ptolomey)
Brings many Princes to decay.
Obserued faith so much commended,
Hath with repentance often ended,
When men will striue to eleuate
That Fortune meanes to ruinate.
The Fates and Gods obserue aright
Thy wretches damn'd by their despight;
Combine thou with the happy wight.
As farre as is this earthly scope,
Distant from high heauens vaulted cope,
And fire and waues repugnant are:
So truth and profite euer iarre.
The power of Scepters then decayes,
When truthes regards their actions swayes.
Tis truly said that foolish pittie
Hath oft confounded many a Cittie.
Sly pollicie with searching ends,
Envied Kingdomes states defends.
Except the sword thou often draw
Thou canst not make thy will a law:
Do that and hold them all in awe.
O let him from a court depart,
That hath a pious tender heart.
Milde modesty and mighty power
Cannot reside in one selfe bower.
Feare still accosts Regality
That is ashamd of cruelty.
Not without ill intention borne,
Pompey thy yong yeares so doth scorne;
To thinke that thy vnconquer'd might
From these shores cannot him affright.
Such guests may not depriue thy throne,
338
If Ægypts Scepter thou abhorre,
Thy banisht sister then restorre.
We will defend the kingdomes right
Against the proud Italian might.
What Pompey heretofore had not,
Shall neuer be the victors lot.
But now that Pompey is forlorne
Of all the world, and Fortunes scorne;
And no where intrest hath at all,
He seekes with what land he may fall,
His sence these ciuill broiles doe stall.
Cæsar alone doth not him fright,
But he doth shun the Senates sight;
Of whom the greatest part and powre
Thessalian vultures now deuoure.
And all those Nations he doth dread
Whose bloods together for him shed,
He basely hath abandoned.
And shames of those Kings to be knowne,
Whose Fortunes he hath ouer-throwne.
Thessaly hath him guilty tride,
Not knowing where his head to hide.
He now accosteth Ægypts soyle,
Which yet he hath not brought to spoyle.
And giues vs by this vile pretence,
Iust cause against him of offence.
For why should he engage vs so
That now rest free from warre or foe;
And seeke to bring our land and state,
So deeply into Cæsars hate?
Is ours the Realme on which in spleene
Thou faine wouldst lay Pharsalias teene,
That with thy wrackes we ruin'd beene?
Iust cause doth vs good leaue affoord
To free this perill by the sword.
But where 'tis vrg'd at thy request,
The Senate did our King inuest
With this Crowne; we for that againe,
With aids, thy quarrell did maintaine.
339
Which fate now bids me to prouide,
O Pompey must not thee offend,
But through the bowels shall transcend
Of him that conquer'd was of late,
I wish it rather Cæsars fate.
We driuen are to go that way
That Fortune goes, who all doth sway.
Doubtst thou (O Pompey) if it be
A course most needfull now for me
To violate thy wretched life,
When lawfull tis to free all strife?
With what hope didst thou (haples wight)
Desire vpon our coast to light?
When we are not prepar'd for warre?
Our people scarcely able are
With spades to delue those clayie lands
That Nylus softens to our hands.
Tis fit to measure our owne force,
And of our selues to take remorce.
Thou Ptolomey maist (if thou wilt)
Mend Pompeys wracke that lies now spilt,
When Rome it selfe dures for his guilt.
Dar'st thou Thessalias ashes reare
And call in warres thy realme to teare?
Before these late Pharsalian broyles
We kept our selues from martiall toyles.
Would Pompey new warres vndertake
With our hands, since all him forsake?
Would he prouoke the victors might
Againe, that hath put him to flight?
And pitty tels vs (as you say)
We should helpe wretches in decay.
But wisedome sayes, we should affect
To like those Fortune doth respect.
What foolish trust would leagues combine
With friends, in pouerty that pine?
This wicked counsell all allowd,
The boyish King was likewise proud
To haue the honour him decreed
As lawfull to act such a deed,
By Sycophants that sooth his minde,
Whereto Achillas was design'd.
And to the seas side they repaire,
A wicked shore for this affaire.
O this was that same trayterous land,
That borders on the Cassian sand,
Whereas on Ægypts coasts a shelfe
Neere to the Syrts doth stretch it selfe.
There they a little frigget mand
With armed monsters in a band.
O heauens! how could the riuer Nyle
And barbarous Memphis so defile
Themselues; and that same tender breed,
That the Canopian Ile doth feed,
Haue hearts to act so vile a deed?
Doth ciuill fate the whole world staine?
Must Roman Rulers thus be slaine?
Doth Ægypt slaughters new affoord?
Must Pharus on vs vse the sword?
O ciuill warres, to your owne Armes
Reserue our proper Countries harmes:
And do reuenge your own blood spilt,
Chase from you odious forraine guilt.
If noble Pompey were design'd
By Cæsars sword his date to finde.
Durst Ptolomy so traiterously
Doome one of so great name to dye?
And thou Achillas halfe a man,
Thou Eunuch whom the world doth ban,
How durst thou so with hands prophane
(Whilst heauen did thunder) work his bane?
Hee that the world by Armes hath tam'd,
Him that three Triumphes so had fam'd,
The Champion of the Senates state,
The victors sonne-in-law but late.
This might alone for reason stand
To stay the Pharian Tyrants hand.
He was a noble Roman borne,
With thy sword must our breasts be torne?
Little knowst thou (vnhappy boy)
Little knowst thou thine owne annoy;
How ficklely thy fortune stands,
That by no right now holdst thy lands;
Since him thy wicked sword hath slaine
By whose grace thou didst rule and raine.
The boyish King was likewise proud
To haue the honour him decreed
340
By Sycophants that sooth his minde,
Whereto Achillas was design'd.
And to the seas side they repaire,
A wicked shore for this affaire.
O this was that same trayterous land,
That borders on the Cassian sand,
Whereas on Ægypts coasts a shelfe
Neere to the Syrts doth stretch it selfe.
There they a little frigget mand
With armed monsters in a band.
O heauens! how could the riuer Nyle
And barbarous Memphis so defile
Themselues; and that same tender breed,
That the Canopian Ile doth feed,
Haue hearts to act so vile a deed?
Doth ciuill fate the whole world staine?
Must Roman Rulers thus be slaine?
Doth Ægypt slaughters new affoord?
Must Pharus on vs vse the sword?
O ciuill warres, to your owne Armes
Reserue our proper Countries harmes:
And do reuenge your own blood spilt,
Chase from you odious forraine guilt.
If noble Pompey were design'd
By Cæsars sword his date to finde.
Durst Ptolomy so traiterously
Doome one of so great name to dye?
And thou Achillas halfe a man,
Thou Eunuch whom the world doth ban,
How durst thou so with hands prophane
(Whilst heauen did thunder) work his bane?
Hee that the world by Armes hath tam'd,
Him that three Triumphes so had fam'd,
The Champion of the Senates state,
The victors sonne-in-law but late.
This might alone for reason stand
To stay the Pharian Tyrants hand.
He was a noble Roman borne,
With thy sword must our breasts be torne?
341
Little knowst thou thine owne annoy;
How ficklely thy fortune stands,
That by no right now holdst thy lands;
Since him thy wicked sword hath slaine
By whose grace thou didst rule and raine.
Now Pompey strooken had his saile,
And in his ship, for more auaile,
His Marriners fell to the Ore,
So to convey him to the shore.
Thus passing on with his small fleet,
A little Gally did him meet,
That was with wicked villaines mand,
VVith shew to bring him to the land.
Then Ægypts kingdome they profest
VVas to his loue and seruice prest.
And therewithall they offer make
That he the benefite would take
Of their small skiffe to come a shore
From his tall ship that could not more,
Nor on those channels safely ride
And very hardly stemme the tide;
By reason that the checking waue
Did with contrary currents raue:
And to all shipping perilous
That on those costs were venterous.
And in his ship, for more auaile,
His Marriners fell to the Ore,
So to convey him to the shore.
Thus passing on with his small fleet,
A little Gally did him meet,
That was with wicked villaines mand,
VVith shew to bring him to the land.
Then Ægypts kingdome they profest
VVas to his loue and seruice prest.
And therewithall they offer make
That he the benefite would take
Of their small skiffe to come a shore
From his tall ship that could not more,
Nor on those channels safely ride
And very hardly stemme the tide;
By reason that the checking waue
Did with contrary currents raue:
And to all shipping perilous
That on those costs were venterous.
But had not destiny ordain'd
And that which could not be refrain'd,
The doome of the æterne decree,
To which his fate must needs agree;
That Pompey to this shore must wend
There to receiue his wofull end.
He wanted not aduice of those
That were his friends, to doubt these foes.
For that if they good faith had meant,
And that the King with true intent
VVould welcome him vnto that land,
Giuen to his sire by Pompeys hand.
The Tyrant then with all his fleet
In state with honour would him meet.
But he to destiny giues way,
And as they wild he did obay.
Leauing his ship he their skiffe enters,
And scorning feare he death aduenters:
Wherewith Cornelia headlong flies
Into the hostile skiffe likewise,
Seeing her husband so gone out
Transported with the carefull doubt
That they did plot some villany,
And therefore kept him company.
Rash woman stay behind (he said)
And so to do his sonne he praid;
And bids them there aloofe expect
Of this aduenture the effect:
And well obserue with what faith led
They now will entertaine his head.
But all in vaine he charmes deafe eares,
For now Cornelia, mad with feares,
Her hands lifts vp with frighted brow;
Cruell, without me, whither now
Meanst thou to goe? must I againe
In solitary sort remaine,
And reft the company of thee
Now from Thessalian dangers free?
We wretches neuer sundred are
But there ensues some heauy care.
Why didst thou not thy sailes diuart,
And flye into some other part,
And leaue me (wretch) in Lesbos plac't
If from all lands I must be chac't.
Thy company I cannot please,
But onely on the raging seas.
When she in vaine had thus complain'd,
In doubt her owne ship-side she strain'd.
With dread amaz'd her eyes she rold,
And did not Pompey then behold.
These in the shippes did doubtfull stand
Of Pompeys fortune on the land;
Not fearing feare or treachery,
But doubting that too humbly
He would that King for aid entreat
To whom he gaue that Regall seate.
But as he meant a shore to passe,
He suddenly saluted was
By one, a Roman souldier,
That in a Pharian boate drew neere,
Septimius hight (ô heauenly shame)
That he his Countrey should defame
One of the guard to Ptolomey
As his base weapon did display.
His Roman pile was set aside,
Fierce, violent, enrag'd with pride:
No sauage beast could him exceed
For slaughter, or for bloody deed.
A man would thinke that Fortune meant
That so much blood should not bee spent,
Nor yet so many people wrack't,
Because the warre his right hand lack't.
And that his murdrous sword so farre
Was banish't the Pharsalian warre.
But Fortune such thou spread'st abroad,
That ciuill slaughters might be stroad
In euery coast, to bring defame
Vnto the victors cruell name.
And that thy stories iust complaint
Should all the Gods with shame attaint.
So did this Roman sword obay
The King, and Pompey thou mayst say,
This Palean Princox did not dread
With thine owne sword to reaue thy head.
And future times shall still record
Septimius name to be abhord.
But with what tearmes to be exprest,
If Brutus fact the world detest?
Now his last houre approached on,
For hee with Pharian barge is gone,
And of himselfe the power had lost,
The Tyrants monsters him accost
With naked swords vpon him bent,
And when he saw their vile intent,
With weapons prest to giue the stroke,
Vpon his face he throwes his cloke.
Disdaining that his bared head
To fortune should be offered.
And therwithall he closd his eyes,
His spirit he supprest likewise,
Because hee would no moanes expresse,
Nor teares to make his vertues lesse.
And that which could not be refrain'd,
The doome of the æterne decree,
To which his fate must needs agree;
That Pompey to this shore must wend
There to receiue his wofull end.
He wanted not aduice of those
That were his friends, to doubt these foes.
For that if they good faith had meant,
And that the King with true intent
VVould welcome him vnto that land,
Giuen to his sire by Pompeys hand.
The Tyrant then with all his fleet
In state with honour would him meet.
342
And as they wild he did obay.
Leauing his ship he their skiffe enters,
And scorning feare he death aduenters:
Wherewith Cornelia headlong flies
Into the hostile skiffe likewise,
Seeing her husband so gone out
Transported with the carefull doubt
That they did plot some villany,
And therefore kept him company.
Rash woman stay behind (he said)
And so to do his sonne he praid;
And bids them there aloofe expect
Of this aduenture the effect:
And well obserue with what faith led
They now will entertaine his head.
But all in vaine he charmes deafe eares,
For now Cornelia, mad with feares,
Her hands lifts vp with frighted brow;
Cruell, without me, whither now
Meanst thou to goe? must I againe
In solitary sort remaine,
And reft the company of thee
Now from Thessalian dangers free?
We wretches neuer sundred are
But there ensues some heauy care.
Why didst thou not thy sailes diuart,
And flye into some other part,
And leaue me (wretch) in Lesbos plac't
If from all lands I must be chac't.
Thy company I cannot please,
But onely on the raging seas.
When she in vaine had thus complain'd,
In doubt her owne ship-side she strain'd.
With dread amaz'd her eyes she rold,
And did not Pompey then behold.
These in the shippes did doubtfull stand
Of Pompeys fortune on the land;
Not fearing feare or treachery,
But doubting that too humbly
343
To whom he gaue that Regall seate.
But as he meant a shore to passe,
He suddenly saluted was
By one, a Roman souldier,
That in a Pharian boate drew neere,
Septimius hight (ô heauenly shame)
That he his Countrey should defame
One of the guard to Ptolomey
As his base weapon did display.
His Roman pile was set aside,
Fierce, violent, enrag'd with pride:
No sauage beast could him exceed
For slaughter, or for bloody deed.
A man would thinke that Fortune meant
That so much blood should not bee spent,
Nor yet so many people wrack't,
Because the warre his right hand lack't.
And that his murdrous sword so farre
Was banish't the Pharsalian warre.
But Fortune such thou spread'st abroad,
That ciuill slaughters might be stroad
In euery coast, to bring defame
Vnto the victors cruell name.
And that thy stories iust complaint
Should all the Gods with shame attaint.
So did this Roman sword obay
The King, and Pompey thou mayst say,
This Palean Princox did not dread
With thine owne sword to reaue thy head.
And future times shall still record
Septimius name to be abhord.
But with what tearmes to be exprest,
If Brutus fact the world detest?
Now his last houre approached on,
For hee with Pharian barge is gone,
And of himselfe the power had lost,
The Tyrants monsters him accost
With naked swords vpon him bent,
And when he saw their vile intent,
344
Vpon his face he throwes his cloke.
Disdaining that his bared head
To fortune should be offered.
And therwithall he closd his eyes,
His spirit he supprest likewise,
Because hee would no moanes expresse,
Nor teares to make his vertues lesse.
But when Achillas (damned wretch)
With murdrous glaiue he made a breach
Into his side, with gaping wound:
Nor sigh nor grone yet did he sound.
But manfully the stroke did bide,
And onely turn'd his face aside.
And from his place he neuer moues,
But dying so himselfe approues.
And thus resolues within his thought,
Who then this villany had wrought.
All after times that vs succeedes,
And doe record the Romans deedes,
This wicked act will not obscure,
But whilst the heauen and earth endure
To all parts of the world will flye
This sippe and Pharian perfidie.
But Pompey now thy fame intend,
Fate long thee happy life did lend:
And didst thou not, by dying, trye
The valour that in thee doth lye?
How should men know that as thou list
Aduersity thou couldst resist?
Giue then no way to others shame,
Nor yet this actor onely blame.
Though others hand thy life hath wrack't,
Beleeue it to be Cæsars fact.
Let them my carkasse rent at will,
O Gods I shall be famous still!
No power this happinesse can rend,
Though Fortune bee no more my frend,
I am not wretched in my end.
My deere Cornelia and my sonne
Doe see this slaughter on me done,
And therefore Sorrow I thee pray,
Shut vp my woes, and all dismay.
But if my wife and sonne see this
With griefe, their loue the greater is.
Such was the fortresse of his minde
Thus stout in death he life resign'd.
With murdrous glaiue he made a breach
Into his side, with gaping wound:
Nor sigh nor grone yet did he sound.
But manfully the stroke did bide,
And onely turn'd his face aside.
And from his place he neuer moues,
But dying so himselfe approues.
And thus resolues within his thought,
Who then this villany had wrought.
All after times that vs succeedes,
And doe record the Romans deedes,
This wicked act will not obscure,
But whilst the heauen and earth endure
To all parts of the world will flye
This sippe and Pharian perfidie.
But Pompey now thy fame intend,
Fate long thee happy life did lend:
And didst thou not, by dying, trye
The valour that in thee doth lye?
How should men know that as thou list
Aduersity thou couldst resist?
Giue then no way to others shame,
Nor yet this actor onely blame.
Though others hand thy life hath wrack't,
Beleeue it to be Cæsars fact.
Let them my carkasse rent at will,
O Gods I shall be famous still!
No power this happinesse can rend,
Though Fortune bee no more my frend,
I am not wretched in my end.
My deere Cornelia and my sonne
345
And therefore Sorrow I thee pray,
Shut vp my woes, and all dismay.
But if my wife and sonne see this
With griefe, their loue the greater is.
Such was the fortresse of his minde
Thus stout in death he life resign'd.
But now Cornelias patience
Could not so easily dispence
To see this deed on Pompey done,
As if her selfe that hap had runne.
So as with wretched sighes and cries,
She dimmes the aire, and filles the skies.
O my deere husband I am she
That thus hath bred the wracke of thee,
When Lesbos Isle with fatall stay
Drew thee so farre out of the way.
Then Cæsars plots arriu'd before
Thy selfe, on damned Nylus shore.
For who else durst take liberty
On thee to shew such cruelty?
But whosoeuer that thou bee
Ordain'd thereto by heauens decree;
Or else by Cæsars hest design'd:
Or from thine owne corrupted minde,
Vpon his head such rage to shew;
O cruell! thou dost little know
Where noble Pompeys heart doth rest,
Come with thy sword and pierce this breast
That vnto him is vowd and bent
That more then death would him torment
Shew, my head ere his life be spent.
I am not guiltlesse of this warre,
As other Roman matrons are;
For neither I vpon the maine,
Nor in the Campe did him refraine.
I stucke to him in misery,
VVhen Kings did shunne his company.
Haue I (O husband) this deeseru'd,
In thy safe ship to be preseru'd?
Vngratefull man, thou spard'st thy wife!
Was I then worthy of my life
When death on thee his force would trye?
No, I in spight of Kings will dye.
O Marriners stay not my veaze,
Headlong to plunge into the seas.
Or with your hands prepare a twine,
That strangle may this throate of mine:
Or some one that was Pompeys frend,
Come with thy sword and my life end.
Thou shalt doe that for Pompeys sake,
Which Cæsars fury else will take.
O cruell wights! why should you giue
Me longer life, that loath to liue?
But husband mine, thou art not dead,
Of my selfe yet I am not head.
Of these, my death I cannot craue,
The victor must that honour haue.
So hauing said, amidst them all
Rapt with a trance, shee downe did fall,
And thence was borne in mazed plight
In her owne shippe, that then tooke flight.
Could not so easily dispence
To see this deed on Pompey done,
As if her selfe that hap had runne.
So as with wretched sighes and cries,
She dimmes the aire, and filles the skies.
O my deere husband I am she
That thus hath bred the wracke of thee,
When Lesbos Isle with fatall stay
Drew thee so farre out of the way.
Then Cæsars plots arriu'd before
Thy selfe, on damned Nylus shore.
For who else durst take liberty
On thee to shew such cruelty?
But whosoeuer that thou bee
Ordain'd thereto by heauens decree;
Or else by Cæsars hest design'd:
Or from thine owne corrupted minde,
Vpon his head such rage to shew;
O cruell! thou dost little know
Where noble Pompeys heart doth rest,
Come with thy sword and pierce this breast
That vnto him is vowd and bent
That more then death would him torment
Shew, my head ere his life be spent.
I am not guiltlesse of this warre,
As other Roman matrons are;
For neither I vpon the maine,
Nor in the Campe did him refraine.
I stucke to him in misery,
VVhen Kings did shunne his company.
Haue I (O husband) this deeseru'd,
In thy safe ship to be preseru'd?
346
Was I then worthy of my life
When death on thee his force would trye?
No, I in spight of Kings will dye.
O Marriners stay not my veaze,
Headlong to plunge into the seas.
Or with your hands prepare a twine,
That strangle may this throate of mine:
Or some one that was Pompeys frend,
Come with thy sword and my life end.
Thou shalt doe that for Pompeys sake,
Which Cæsars fury else will take.
O cruell wights! why should you giue
Me longer life, that loath to liue?
But husband mine, thou art not dead,
Of my selfe yet I am not head.
Of these, my death I cannot craue,
The victor must that honour haue.
So hauing said, amidst them all
Rapt with a trance, shee downe did fall,
And thence was borne in mazed plight
In her owne shippe, that then tooke flight.
But thogh their swords from side to side
Had pierc't him through with gashes wide;
Hee still retain'd within his face
A sweete aspect and reuerent grace:
His browes against the Gods hee bent,
And when his life was gone and spent,
Yet in his lookes, or in his cheare,
No change at all there did appeare,
As they themselues did make report
That saw him murdred in that sort,
For cruell hee Septimius,
To make his act more odious,
His sacred face laid open bare,
The couering vaile hee rent and tare,
And whilst the head yet breathes with sweat
Hee takes it vp, and thwart a seat
The lithy hanging necke hee puts,
And so the veines and sinewes cuts.
Then long he hackes the knotty bone,
To cut it cleane he Art had none.
But with his hewing that he makes,
From off the corpes the head he takes.
The which Achillas from him teares,
And in his hand it proudly beares.
O Roman Souldier, slauish base,
That woulds thy selfe so much disgrace
To be an vnderling to such.
For since thy hand had done so much
Vpon that head of so great fame,
Thou shouldst thy selfe haue borne the same.
O shamefull Fates! this boyish King,
When they to him the head did bring,
That he might know his manly looke
The same in his right hand he tooke,
And by the haire he did it hold,
Those reuerent lockes now hoary old,
That had so many Kings controld,
And shadowed his comely brow,
This noble head he pitcheth now
Vpon a Pharian sharpned stake,
Whilst yet with life the cheekes did quake.
And whilst with throbs the spirits beat,
And ere the eyes were throughly set.
So was this honored head abusd,
That neuer peace for warre refusd.
The Countries lawes, the armed field,
And Rostrum did him reuerence yeeld.
That noble face, that braue aspect
The Romane fortune did affect.
But yet this wicked Tyrants heart
Was not suffisd with this vile part,
For he desires his villany
Might goe beyond his perfidy:
And when they cleansd his head and braine,
So as no humors should remaine
To putrifie, then Art they vse
To keepe the face, and balme enfuse.
Had pierc't him through with gashes wide;
Hee still retain'd within his face
A sweete aspect and reuerent grace:
His browes against the Gods hee bent,
And when his life was gone and spent,
Yet in his lookes, or in his cheare,
No change at all there did appeare,
As they themselues did make report
That saw him murdred in that sort,
For cruell hee Septimius,
To make his act more odious,
His sacred face laid open bare,
The couering vaile hee rent and tare,
And whilst the head yet breathes with sweat
Hee takes it vp, and thwart a seat
The lithy hanging necke hee puts,
And so the veines and sinewes cuts.
347
To cut it cleane he Art had none.
But with his hewing that he makes,
From off the corpes the head he takes.
The which Achillas from him teares,
And in his hand it proudly beares.
O Roman Souldier, slauish base,
That woulds thy selfe so much disgrace
To be an vnderling to such.
For since thy hand had done so much
Vpon that head of so great fame,
Thou shouldst thy selfe haue borne the same.
O shamefull Fates! this boyish King,
When they to him the head did bring,
That he might know his manly looke
The same in his right hand he tooke,
And by the haire he did it hold,
Those reuerent lockes now hoary old,
That had so many Kings controld,
And shadowed his comely brow,
This noble head he pitcheth now
Vpon a Pharian sharpned stake,
Whilst yet with life the cheekes did quake.
And whilst with throbs the spirits beat,
And ere the eyes were throughly set.
So was this honored head abusd,
That neuer peace for warre refusd.
The Countries lawes, the armed field,
And Rostrum did him reuerence yeeld.
That noble face, that braue aspect
The Romane fortune did affect.
But yet this wicked Tyrants heart
Was not suffisd with this vile part,
For he desires his villany
Might goe beyond his perfidy:
And when they cleansd his head and braine,
So as no humors should remaine
To putrifie, then Art they vse
To keepe the face, and balme enfuse.
Thou off-spring last degenerate
Of Lagus line, art neere thy date:
For thy incestious sisters hand
Shall reaue thy scepter and thy land.
Must Pompeys corpes with so great scorne
Lye on the sands mangled and torne;
And thence be cast from side to side
Against the rockes with euery tide?
Whilst that thy Macedonian race
In sacred sepulchers haue place:
And that their ashes quiet rest,
With Graues and Monuments possest;
And damned ghosts of wicked mood
Come from the Ptolomean brood,
Be closd in Pyramids of fame,
And with Mausolas worthy frame.
Was it a worke of so great paine
To let the corpes entire remaine,
That Cæsar might behold it plaine?
Hath Fortune, after all her smiles,
Thus Pompey foyl'd with her last guiles?
Are all those glories him assignd,
Shut vp with death of such a kinde?
O cruell dame! must all thy threapes
Fall all on him at once in heapes,
That neuer earst did feele mis-happe,
But alwayes dandled in thy lappe?
Pompey is hee that this can say
Hee neuer yet saw lucky day,
Mingled with any crosse dismay.
His happy fate without stoppe goes,
None of the Gods did it oppose.
But when his ruine was decreed,
They laid on load, and made quicke speed.
Fortune sometimes did him aduance,
And by the hand leades him in dance.
But now on sands hee lyes ore-flowne,
And on the rockes with billowes throwne.
And as a scorne in seas is drownd,
Where waues make gutters through each wound:
No forme in him is to bee found.
Pompey hath no marke to be knowne,
But that his corps a head hath none.
348
For thy incestious sisters hand
Shall reaue thy scepter and thy land.
Must Pompeys corpes with so great scorne
Lye on the sands mangled and torne;
And thence be cast from side to side
Against the rockes with euery tide?
Whilst that thy Macedonian race
In sacred sepulchers haue place:
And that their ashes quiet rest,
With Graues and Monuments possest;
And damned ghosts of wicked mood
Come from the Ptolomean brood,
Be closd in Pyramids of fame,
And with Mausolas worthy frame.
Was it a worke of so great paine
To let the corpes entire remaine,
That Cæsar might behold it plaine?
Hath Fortune, after all her smiles,
Thus Pompey foyl'd with her last guiles?
Are all those glories him assignd,
Shut vp with death of such a kinde?
O cruell dame! must all thy threapes
Fall all on him at once in heapes,
That neuer earst did feele mis-happe,
But alwayes dandled in thy lappe?
Pompey is hee that this can say
Hee neuer yet saw lucky day,
Mingled with any crosse dismay.
His happy fate without stoppe goes,
None of the Gods did it oppose.
But when his ruine was decreed,
They laid on load, and made quicke speed.
Fortune sometimes did him aduance,
And by the hand leades him in dance.
But now on sands hee lyes ore-flowne,
And on the rockes with billowes throwne.
And as a scorne in seas is drownd,
Where waues make gutters through each wound:
No forme in him is to bee found.
349
But that his corps a head hath none.
And yet before the Conqueror
Arriued on the Pharian shore,
Fortune for Pompey tooke some care
And did in hast his tombe prepare,
Whereby he should not want a graue,
Although no fitting buriall haue.
For Codrus that there hidden lay,
Came fearefully downe to the bay.
This man that crept so from his den,
Was one of Pompeys haplesse men,
And lately made his Treasurer,
When they put from the Cyprus shore.
He durst come out in darke of night,
And loue vnto his feare gaue might.
To seeke the body in the maine,
To bring it to the land againe,
And to the shore his Pompey traine.
The Moone a little glimmering lent,
Which through the duskie clouds she sent
Whereby the body he discouerd,
That with a differing colour houered
Vpon the waues, that strugling make,
When in his armes he did him take,
And being tired with the fraight,
He hop't the waue would lift the waight.
The which it did, and with that aid
The corps he to the shore conuaide.
And on the land where it lay drie
Vpon the body he did lie,
And wailing there twixt griefe and feares,
He euery wound did fill with teares,
And to the Gods and stars in skies,
He thus poures out his wofull cries.
Arriued on the Pharian shore,
Fortune for Pompey tooke some care
And did in hast his tombe prepare,
Whereby he should not want a graue,
Although no fitting buriall haue.
For Codrus that there hidden lay,
Came fearefully downe to the bay.
This man that crept so from his den,
Was one of Pompeys haplesse men,
And lately made his Treasurer,
When they put from the Cyprus shore.
He durst come out in darke of night,
And loue vnto his feare gaue might.
To seeke the body in the maine,
To bring it to the land againe,
And to the shore his Pompey traine.
The Moone a little glimmering lent,
Which through the duskie clouds she sent
Whereby the body he discouerd,
That with a differing colour houered
Vpon the waues, that strugling make,
When in his armes he did him take,
And being tired with the fraight,
He hop't the waue would lift the waight.
The which it did, and with that aid
The corps he to the shore conuaide.
And on the land where it lay drie
Vpon the body he did lie,
And wailing there twixt griefe and feares,
He euery wound did fill with teares,
And to the Gods and stars in skies,
He thus poures out his wofull cries.
Thy Pompey doth not of thee craue
O Fortune, any glorious graue,
Nor yet that gums of pleasant sent
Vpon his funerall be sprent,
Nor that the fat his members yeelds,
Mixt with the drugs of Easterne fields
With orders should perfume that aire,
Which smoaking to the skies repaire.
Nor that with loue the Romans led,
To their deare parent being dead.
Should him vpon their shoulders place,
His day of funeral to grace.
Nor that the pompe of his last date
Should all exceed in glorious state.
Nor that the court with heauie notes,
Should singing straine their wailing throtes.
Nor that the armie in a file
Should march about the flaming pile,
And throw their weapons down the while.
Giue Pompey but a common chest,
Wherein his bones may safely rest,
And that his rent torne lims may burne
Together, and to ashes turne.
And that I miserable wight,
This to performe may want no might,
A worthlesse man his fire to light.
It is enough ô Gods diuine,
That there is wanting at his shrine
Cornelia with disheueled tresse,
And that she cannot here expresse
Poore soule, to him her latest vowes,
With deare embracements of her spouse.
And on his face her teares deplore,
Though farre shee be not from this shore.
O Fortune, any glorious graue,
Nor yet that gums of pleasant sent
Vpon his funerall be sprent,
Nor that the fat his members yeelds,
Mixt with the drugs of Easterne fields
350
Which smoaking to the skies repaire.
Nor that with loue the Romans led,
To their deare parent being dead.
Should him vpon their shoulders place,
His day of funeral to grace.
Nor that the pompe of his last date
Should all exceed in glorious state.
Nor that the court with heauie notes,
Should singing straine their wailing throtes.
Nor that the armie in a file
Should march about the flaming pile,
And throw their weapons down the while.
Giue Pompey but a common chest,
Wherein his bones may safely rest,
And that his rent torne lims may burne
Together, and to ashes turne.
And that I miserable wight,
This to performe may want no might,
A worthlesse man his fire to light.
It is enough ô Gods diuine,
That there is wanting at his shrine
Cornelia with disheueled tresse,
And that she cannot here expresse
Poore soule, to him her latest vowes,
With deare embracements of her spouse.
And on his face her teares deplore,
Though farre shee be not from this shore.
As soone as he these words had spoke
Farre off he spide a fire and smoke,
VVhere some base body was a burning,
VVithout attendance, or friends mourning.
From thence some fire he takes away,
And brands that with the body lay.
VVho so thou art (quoth he) that heere
Neglected burnst, to no man deare,
Then Pompey yet thou happier art
Be not displeased for thy part,
That my last hands do thus beguile,
Some portion of thy funerall pile.
And if that any sence remaine
In mortals that deaths dart hath slaine.
Then giue me leaue I thee desire,
To take this pittance from thy fire.
I shame to see thy Cinders burne,
Whilst fire shall want for Pompeys vrne.
So said the kindled brands he takes,
And for the corpes a fire he makes,
Which then the tide had well neare reacht
But some part on the strand lay streacht.
From it the sands he wipes away,
And then together he doth lay
The broken fragments of a boate,
(With fearefull hand) which there did float
In a foule ditch somewhat remote.
No heaped stacke of oaken piles,
These noble lims did presse the whiles,
Vnder the corps no wood was laid,
But to this slender flame conuaid
A loft the body burning staid.
Farre off he spide a fire and smoke,
VVhere some base body was a burning,
VVithout attendance, or friends mourning.
From thence some fire he takes away,
And brands that with the body lay.
VVho so thou art (quoth he) that heere
Neglected burnst, to no man deare,
Then Pompey yet thou happier art
Be not displeased for thy part,
That my last hands do thus beguile,
Some portion of thy funerall pile.
351
In mortals that deaths dart hath slaine.
Then giue me leaue I thee desire,
To take this pittance from thy fire.
I shame to see thy Cinders burne,
Whilst fire shall want for Pompeys vrne.
So said the kindled brands he takes,
And for the corpes a fire he makes,
Which then the tide had well neare reacht
But some part on the strand lay streacht.
From it the sands he wipes away,
And then together he doth lay
The broken fragments of a boate,
(With fearefull hand) which there did float
In a foule ditch somewhat remote.
No heaped stacke of oaken piles,
These noble lims did presse the whiles,
Vnder the corps no wood was laid,
But to this slender flame conuaid
A loft the body burning staid.
He sitting downe hard by the flame
Thus said, O Captaine great of name,
Chiefe maiestie of Roman fame.
If that the tossing of the seas,
And no graue would thee better please
Then this poore obsequie of mine,
Let thy braue spright and soule diuine,
These my endeauours nought esteeme,
But iniury of Fate it deeme.
That I haue thought this lawfull done,
Thereby thy bodies spoiles to shun.
From monsters of the raging waues.
And from those beasts on flesh that raues,
And from the vultures greedy mawes,
And from the wrath of Cæsars pawes,
Therefore in worth accept of me
This last fire that I offer thee,
If so it with thy honor stand,
Now kindled with a Roman hand,
But if that Fortune do recoyle,
And bring thy friends to Latium soyle,
Thy sacred Cyndars may find grace
To be lodg'd in a worthier place,
So as Cornelia, Pompeys spouse
May yeeld to thee more glorious vowes.
And with my helpe that now thee burne,
May put thy cinders in an vrne.
Meane while to shew where is thy graue,
Some litte stone a marke shall haue;
Vpon this shore, that if some frend
Thy greater honor do intend,
And would thy death more eternize,
He may know where thy body lies.
And to great Pompey here laid dead,
He may againe restore the head.
Thus hauing said, doth fuell adde
To this small fire that burnes so sad.
And then the fat that in it fries,
Doth cause the flame aloft to rise,
And to the fire giue fresh supplies.
By this Auroras blushing face,
The glittring stars away did chace.
And he poore soule with maze afright,
Disorderly breakes of this right,
And in a corner shuns the light.
Thus said, O Captaine great of name,
Chiefe maiestie of Roman fame.
If that the tossing of the seas,
And no graue would thee better please
Then this poore obsequie of mine,
Let thy braue spright and soule diuine,
These my endeauours nought esteeme,
But iniury of Fate it deeme.
That I haue thought this lawfull done,
Thereby thy bodies spoiles to shun.
From monsters of the raging waues.
And from those beasts on flesh that raues,
And from the vultures greedy mawes,
And from the wrath of Cæsars pawes,
Therefore in worth accept of me
This last fire that I offer thee,
If so it with thy honor stand,
Now kindled with a Roman hand,
But if that Fortune do recoyle,
352
Thy sacred Cyndars may find grace
To be lodg'd in a worthier place,
So as Cornelia, Pompeys spouse
May yeeld to thee more glorious vowes.
And with my helpe that now thee burne,
May put thy cinders in an vrne.
Meane while to shew where is thy graue,
Some litte stone a marke shall haue;
Vpon this shore, that if some frend
Thy greater honor do intend,
And would thy death more eternize,
He may know where thy body lies.
And to great Pompey here laid dead,
He may againe restore the head.
Thus hauing said, doth fuell adde
To this small fire that burnes so sad.
And then the fat that in it fries,
Doth cause the flame aloft to rise,
And to the fire giue fresh supplies.
By this Auroras blushing face,
The glittring stars away did chace.
And he poore soule with maze afright,
Disorderly breakes of this right,
And in a corner shuns the light.
Vaine man what feare doth thee distract
For thy performance of this act,
Whereby vnto all future dayes,
Thy fame with honor thou dost raise,
Since wicked Cæsar will commend
These bones so buried by a frend?
Go safely and desire to haue
The head likewise to lay in graue.
For pietie bids thee not shun,
To end this duttie well begun.
Then doth he take these bones halfe burnd
And members not to ashes turnd,
Which he together doth dispose,
And in a little pit inclose.
Then left the wind the sand should raise
Vpon the graue a stone he layes.
And that no Marriners should bind
Their Cable where this stone they find
About the same, and it displace,
Vpon the top he did inchace
The sacred name with a burnt brand,
Pompey lies buried in this sand.
Where Cæsar rather would he lay,
Then want his graue or funerall day.
But ô rash hand that dost suppose,
In such a sepulcher to close
Great Pompey and his wandring ghost,
That rangeth ouer euery coast,
As farre as any land extends,
And to the vtmost Oceans ends.
The Empire large and name of Rome,
The true tipe is of Pompeys tombe.
Remoue this stone for very shame,
Which to the Gods imputeth blame.
If Hercules must needs haue all,
Mount Oete for his funerall,
And Bacchus must with like accompt
Take all Parnassus sacred mount.
Why then should one Egyptian stone
Suffise for Pompeys tombe alone.
All Egypt should stand for his graue,
If no stone his inscription haue,
We Romans shalbe still in dread,
Lest we on Pompeys ashes tread,
When we do range about those lands,
And doubt to march on Nylus sands.
But if so reuerent a name
Thou wilt inscribe vpon the same,
His noble acts therewith consort,
His great atchieuements of import.
And there to that rebellious iarre,
That he supprest in th' Alpyn warre
VVhen as proud Lepidus conspirde
And how a Consull he retirde,
Cald backe when he had put to foyle,
Setorrius in his Spanish broyle.
When for it he in Triumphs pride,
Through Rome with great applause did ride.
And how he gaue the world commerce,
When he the pirats did disperse.
Adde thereunto the nations wonne,
And the Barbarians ouerrunne.
With whatsoeuer in the East,
Or in the Northerne parts did rest,
Shew that he euer armes laid downe
His conquest done; and tooke the gowne,
That thrice he had in Triumphs sate,
And gaue great spoyles vnto the state.
What graue can this mans worth containe
His tombe lies leuell with the plaine.
His wretched hearse thou dost not raise
With titles equall to his praise,
Nor yet those holy orders write,
That Roman Callenders recite.
Which on the stately pillars stand,
Of Gods the Patrons of our land.
Nor with those glorious trophees grac't,
That are on temples arches plac't.
Alas our Pompeys sepulcher,
Leuels the Egypt sands so neare,
And lies so flat vpon the shore,
To reade it men must stooping pore.
Which any Roman that goes by,
But being told will hardly spy.
For thy performance of this act,
Whereby vnto all future dayes,
Thy fame with honor thou dost raise,
Since wicked Cæsar will commend
These bones so buried by a frend?
Go safely and desire to haue
The head likewise to lay in graue.
For pietie bids thee not shun,
To end this duttie well begun.
Then doth he take these bones halfe burnd
And members not to ashes turnd,
Which he together doth dispose,
And in a little pit inclose.
Then left the wind the sand should raise
353
And that no Marriners should bind
Their Cable where this stone they find
About the same, and it displace,
Vpon the top he did inchace
The sacred name with a burnt brand,
Pompey lies buried in this sand.
Where Cæsar rather would he lay,
Then want his graue or funerall day.
But ô rash hand that dost suppose,
In such a sepulcher to close
Great Pompey and his wandring ghost,
That rangeth ouer euery coast,
As farre as any land extends,
And to the vtmost Oceans ends.
The Empire large and name of Rome,
The true tipe is of Pompeys tombe.
Remoue this stone for very shame,
Which to the Gods imputeth blame.
If Hercules must needs haue all,
Mount Oete for his funerall,
And Bacchus must with like accompt
Take all Parnassus sacred mount.
Why then should one Egyptian stone
Suffise for Pompeys tombe alone.
All Egypt should stand for his graue,
If no stone his inscription haue,
We Romans shalbe still in dread,
Lest we on Pompeys ashes tread,
When we do range about those lands,
And doubt to march on Nylus sands.
But if so reuerent a name
Thou wilt inscribe vpon the same,
His noble acts therewith consort,
His great atchieuements of import.
And there to that rebellious iarre,
That he supprest in th' Alpyn warre
VVhen as proud Lepidus conspirde
And how a Consull he retirde,
Cald backe when he had put to foyle,
354
When for it he in Triumphs pride,
Through Rome with great applause did ride.
And how he gaue the world commerce,
When he the pirats did disperse.
Adde thereunto the nations wonne,
And the Barbarians ouerrunne.
With whatsoeuer in the East,
Or in the Northerne parts did rest,
Shew that he euer armes laid downe
His conquest done; and tooke the gowne,
That thrice he had in Triumphs sate,
And gaue great spoyles vnto the state.
What graue can this mans worth containe
His tombe lies leuell with the plaine.
His wretched hearse thou dost not raise
With titles equall to his praise,
Nor yet those holy orders write,
That Roman Callenders recite.
Which on the stately pillars stand,
Of Gods the Patrons of our land.
Nor with those glorious trophees grac't,
That are on temples arches plac't.
Alas our Pompeys sepulcher,
Leuels the Egypt sands so neare,
And lies so flat vpon the shore,
To reade it men must stooping pore.
Which any Roman that goes by,
But being told will hardly spy.
We were not cautious as we ought
Of that Cumana Sybill wrote,
Who warn'd vs in all ciuill broyle,
To shun the harmes of Egypts soyle,
And that no Roman chieftaine should
Come neare to Nyles Pelusian mould,
But shun that sommer swelling shore.
What dismall fate may I implore,
Against that cruell land that durst
Attempt and act this deed accurst.
Let Nylus bacward bend his head
And stay whereas his spring is bred
And let this parched soile remaine
VVithout all helpe of winters raine,
And let such burning heates it rost,
As fries the Æthiopian coast,
Thy Isis Aegypt, for thy sake,
We did into Romes temple take;
And currish Demigods withall,
On whom with Cymbals you do call,
And thou Osyris whom with plaint,
As but a man your selues depaint.
But Egypt thou in scorne dost hold
Our spirits in base dustie mould,
And thy selfe Rome that with such state
Didst those braue Temples dedicate
Vnto the wicked Tyrants name,
Hast not yet ask't, for feare of blame,
The ashes of thy Pompey slaine,
VVhose ghost doth banisht still remaine.
And though at first that fearefull age
VVere ouer-awd by Cæsars rage,
Yet now take vnto thee at last
Thy Pompeys bones, since feare is past.
Except that the encroaching maine,
Do them and all that shoare detaine.
Else who needs doubt his graue to turne,
VVith sacred rites to grace his vrne.
O would that deed were made my taske,
And Rome at my hands would it aske!
O happy I and too much blest,
Might I remoue that sacred chest
And bring the same to rest in Rome,
If lawfull tis to force his tombe!
Of that Cumana Sybill wrote,
Who warn'd vs in all ciuill broyle,
To shun the harmes of Egypts soyle,
And that no Roman chieftaine should
Come neare to Nyles Pelusian mould,
But shun that sommer swelling shore.
What dismall fate may I implore,
Against that cruell land that durst
Attempt and act this deed accurst.
Let Nylus bacward bend his head
355
And let this parched soile remaine
VVithout all helpe of winters raine,
And let such burning heates it rost,
As fries the Æthiopian coast,
Thy Isis Aegypt, for thy sake,
We did into Romes temple take;
And currish Demigods withall,
On whom with Cymbals you do call,
And thou Osyris whom with plaint,
As but a man your selues depaint.
But Egypt thou in scorne dost hold
Our spirits in base dustie mould,
And thy selfe Rome that with such state
Didst those braue Temples dedicate
Vnto the wicked Tyrants name,
Hast not yet ask't, for feare of blame,
The ashes of thy Pompey slaine,
VVhose ghost doth banisht still remaine.
And though at first that fearefull age
VVere ouer-awd by Cæsars rage,
Yet now take vnto thee at last
Thy Pompeys bones, since feare is past.
Except that the encroaching maine,
Do them and all that shoare detaine.
Else who needs doubt his graue to turne,
VVith sacred rites to grace his vrne.
O would that deed were made my taske,
And Rome at my hands would it aske!
O happy I and too much blest,
Might I remoue that sacred chest
And bring the same to rest in Rome,
If lawfull tis to force his tombe!
But yet ô Pompey it may chance,
That if ill seasons dearth aduance,
Or that contagious plagues oppresse,
Or fearefullfires should Rome distresse,
Or earthquakes put vs in a fright,
These miseries to banish quite;
Vnto the Gods we make request,
And thereupon by their behest,
Thou maist againe to Rome returne
To expiate these with thy vrne.
And that the chiefe Priest we shall call
To beare thee to thy funerall,
But now what passenger goes by
Syenen that the heates do frie,
Of Cancers parched torryd zoane;
Or vnto whom is Nylus knowne,
That costs her Thæbas burning sands,
Which vnder showring Plyades stands:
Or who the red Seas gulffe doth trade,
Or trafficks vsing to be made,
About the rich Arabian ports,
Or else for marchandise consorts,
With those that come from Eastern shore,
But Pompeys graue he will explore.
And seeke to see that reuerent stone
That lies his low lodg'd tombe vpon.
And turne a side out of the way,
To see thy cynders if he may,
That on the sands perhaps do stray,
And therewithall will take delight
To sacrifice vnto thy spright,
And will thy worthie name preferre
Before the Cassian Iupiter.
So as this little paltery shrine,
Will more aduance that fame of thine,
Then if thou hadst a Tombe of gold,
Such as our Temples vse to hold,
For here interred lies with thee
The Fortune of Romes libertie.
So as a farre more happie stone,
The Lybicke waues shall beate vpon,
Then are those Altars to be prisde,
Whereon the victor sacrifisde.
For those that often are so bold,
Their incense offrings to withhold,
From the Tarpeian Deities
Will shew their loues and charities.
Vnto the shrine of thy sweete soule,
Here raked vp in this duske hole.
That if ill seasons dearth aduance,
Or that contagious plagues oppresse,
Or fearefullfires should Rome distresse,
Or earthquakes put vs in a fright,
These miseries to banish quite;
Vnto the Gods we make request,
356
Thou maist againe to Rome returne
To expiate these with thy vrne.
And that the chiefe Priest we shall call
To beare thee to thy funerall,
But now what passenger goes by
Syenen that the heates do frie,
Of Cancers parched torryd zoane;
Or vnto whom is Nylus knowne,
That costs her Thæbas burning sands,
Which vnder showring Plyades stands:
Or who the red Seas gulffe doth trade,
Or trafficks vsing to be made,
About the rich Arabian ports,
Or else for marchandise consorts,
With those that come from Eastern shore,
But Pompeys graue he will explore.
And seeke to see that reuerent stone
That lies his low lodg'd tombe vpon.
And turne a side out of the way,
To see thy cynders if he may,
That on the sands perhaps do stray,
And therewithall will take delight
To sacrifice vnto thy spright,
And will thy worthie name preferre
Before the Cassian Iupiter.
So as this little paltery shrine,
Will more aduance that fame of thine,
Then if thou hadst a Tombe of gold,
Such as our Temples vse to hold,
For here interred lies with thee
The Fortune of Romes libertie.
So as a farre more happie stone,
The Lybicke waues shall beate vpon,
Then are those Altars to be prisde,
Whereon the victor sacrifisde.
For those that often are so bold,
Their incense offrings to withhold,
From the Tarpeian Deities
Will shew their loues and charities.
357
Here raked vp in this duske hole.
Here of the fame of future dayes,
More glory vnto thee will raise,
Then if thy monument were built
With stately marbles caru'd and guilt.
And that the measure of thy graue,
A huger height and scope might haue.
For now a little time will chace
Thy heaped cinders from this place,
When as these sands away shall fall,
That couer now thy buriall.
And so the knowledge will decay,
How thou camst to thy fatall day.
Then ages happier will liue,
Which will no trust nor credit giue
To any, that this stone shall show,
Which yet the world so well doth know.
But Egypt will disproue this reed,
Vnto her children that succeed,
And make the Death and Tombe likewise,
Of Pompey but such tales and lies,
As were those of the Cretan Ile,
Whence thundring Ioue doth take his style.
More glory vnto thee will raise,
Then if thy monument were built
With stately marbles caru'd and guilt.
And that the measure of thy graue,
A huger height and scope might haue.
For now a little time will chace
Thy heaped cinders from this place,
When as these sands away shall fall,
That couer now thy buriall.
And so the knowledge will decay,
How thou camst to thy fatall day.
Then ages happier will liue,
Which will no trust nor credit giue
To any, that this stone shall show,
Which yet the world so well doth know.
But Egypt will disproue this reed,
Vnto her children that succeed,
And make the Death and Tombe likewise,
Of Pompey but such tales and lies,
As were those of the Cretan Ile,
Whence thundring Ioue doth take his style.
Finis libri octaui.
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