An essay Upon the Third Punique War. Lib. I. and II ::

An essay Upon the Third Punique War. Lib. I. and II

To which are added Theodosius's Advice to his Son. And the phenix; Out of Claudian. By T. R. [i.e. Thomas Ross]

Ross, Thomas

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Scribimus indocti doctique poemata. Hor.

To the Illustrious Prince JAMES DUKE OF MONMOUTH, BUCCLEUGH, &c.

AN ESSAY Upon the Third PUNIQUE WAR.

Lib. I.

Time to that Point had run; when Conscious Fate,
Resolv'd no more to strive with Juno's Hate,
But with the Gods comply, who now their doome
Had given 'gainst Carthage, and reserv'd for Rome
The Empire of the World: while Libya sees
Signs of their Wrath, and their severe Decrees.
All that of Prodigie, in Heaven or Earth
Could be produc'd; All that with monstrous Birth
Could Nature fright, or fill the World with Fear,
Or could confirm the People in Despair,
Shew'd that all Causes must to Fates give way,
And, that the Gods themselves those Laws obey.

Scarce were the wounds of that Destructive War,
Which left in Africk's Face so deep a Scar,
Clos'd up, when a Disdain of Roman Chains,
And sense of Shame, through her yet Bloodless Veins,
Like a dire Feaver, runs, inflames her Heart,
And with a troubled Pulse, strikes every Part.
The Cause of so great Ills, my Muse relate;
And why the Ruin of an Anient State
The Gods, and Men should joyntly so conspire.
Must nothing under Heaven be kept entire
When Great? then (Rome) thy Fate will be the same,
With that of Carthage, and when thy proud Name
Hath fill'd the World so, that Thou canst not rise
More high, nor be a nobler Sacrifice
To Fortune; Nations, conquer'd by Thee, shall
Divide, with Joy, the Trophies of thy Fall.
After the Ivory Palaces inlay'd
With Gold, and Syphax crown the spoils were made

Of Scipio, Carthage disarm'd of all
Her Force by Sea and Land, and Hannibal
In all the World, Rome's Fear, Alone, remain'd,
Whose death, with infamy soon after stain'd
Bithynia's Throne; as if above the stroke
Of Fate, or Fortune, Massanissa's Yoke,
Heavier than Rome's, on Libya's Neck was lay'd,
For than a Civil Hand, which has betray'd
Its Country, what can give a deeper Wound?
Such to serve Rome was Massanissa found.
What she had spar'd, He, cruelly destroy'd:
And what her Pity left, his Pride enjoy'd,
She, Honour, only, by her Conquest sought,
And lasting Trophies to her Temples brought,
Where emulous Nephews, might her Actions read,
And boldly in those steps of Honour tread.
He sought not to subdue, but to oppress,
And by extending Pow'r, made Glory less.
No Bounds to his Ambition set a Bar,
But all was justly gain'd, atchiev'd in War.
His violated Faith must serve the Times,
And give a Pious Name to greatest Crimes.
Poor Libya must believe, 'tis Heaven's Decree
That she to Roman Laws, should subject be.
Her Antient Valour to Religion now
Must yield, and to such servile Dictates bow,
As to her Fathers were unknown before;
And what she hated once, she must adore.

Unhappy State, where Treason takes her Stand
Upon the Throne, and do's in Chief command;
All Rites, all Laws to Insolence give way,
And what should most command, do's most obey.
The Voice of Heav'n to attend all Pow'r appears,
But a vain Sound still fills the Peoples ears;
What they expect, they seldom can enjoy,
And present Evils, all future Hopes destroy.
The gilded Name of Publick Good brings in
All Mischief, and what Vertue seems, is sin.
Their use of Arms, under the Latine Gown,
Is lost, Rome's Rites the Libyan Customs drown.
As a fierce Horse, by stroaking, do's admit
To bear a Rider, and receives the Bit;
Which settled in his Jaws, he quickly feels
The Wand, and fury of the Rider's Heels.
So by the Civil Customs brought from Rome,
By Massanissa, Libya lost at Home
That noble fierceness that once arm'd their hand
Against the World, and gain'd by Sea and Land,
Such Conquests, as no Nation, cou'd exceed,
But that, to which, Heav'n had the World decreed.

But in some breasts, the Ancient Tyrian Name
As yet surviv'd, and Courage was the same,
As when Amilcar, or his Valiant Son,
For Empire, and Revenge the War begun.
The chief of these was Hasdrubal, who stood
High in the Peoples favour, as in Blood
Deriv'd from Ancestors, who thither came
With Dido, and preserv'd a Noble Name.
Grief now to see the Carthaginian Bounds
Confin'd to Byrsa's Walls, his soul confounds.
Pity, and Rage, at once his thoughts divide,
Which streight are wholly to revenge appli'd.

Revenge, that gives all ease to present Ills,
And with false hope deluded Fancy fills.
On this he often meditates, yet dares
Not speak his thoughts, but while he hopes, despairs.
He's safe, while his designs he lays alone
But still in danger, when to others known.
The Pow'r of Rome, all Courage had supprest,
And planted Terror in each Tyrian brest;
So that all confidence of Friends orethrown,
The Punique Faith (now to a Proverb grown)
The nearest Trust, and strictest Vows betrays,
And Treachery Religion oversways.

But yet this Fury, with another joyn'd,
Dispels these doubts, and reconfirms his mind.
Ambition, which in Hell her Throne maintains,
And equal, every where, with Pluto raigns,
Adorn'd with spoils of Kings, of Crowns, of Courts,
With their sad Ruin, she insulting sports
Her Eyes, with Envy fir'd, still upward gaze,
As if she'd blast, with those Infectious Rayes,
All that above her shines. On either hand
Attending her commands, the Furies stand.
Rebellion, Murther Treason, with all Ills
Nurtur'd in Hell, she the dire Circle fills.
For Action arm'd, and when from thence she flies
T'embroil the World, they all are in disguise.
Rebellion lifting up her zealous hands,
Drest like Religion, at the Altar stands,
And to deluded gods her Incense burns.
Murther, her self to awful Justice, turns.
And Forms of Law, in all she acts proclaims.
Treason, the Loyal shape, and all the Names
Of Vertue takes, officiously attends
The Prince, and flatt'ring, all he do's commends;

Till his bad Deeds, the good by much outweigh,
And so to Ruin, the secure betray.

It was a time, when Carthage (though her Fall
Recorded was, from rising Hannibal)
Grateful to his great Name, those Annual Rites
In Dido's ruin'd Grove, three following Nights,
Perform'd, which dire Religion, long ago,
Had celebrated to the Pow'rs below.
When at the Altars cruel Mothers stood,
And from their Brests, while yet they suck'd their blood,
With flatt'ring kisses, smiling Babes betray'd
To Stygian flames, and dreadful Victims made:
While Nature in the Act subdu'd appears,
And Zeal choaks all their Sighs, & stops their Tears

The Night was come, when to Barcinna, sprung
From the Barcean Line, and when but young,
(Scarce full three Lustra old) by Hymen joyn'd
To Hasdrubal, when the glad Priest divin'd,
She, for her Countrey, with a Name above
Her Sex, should Valour's great example prove;

To Her, with a distracted look, he thus
Begins, What end to Carthage, and to Us,
Us born to Greater Things, do's Fate design?
Fortune not Us, We rather Her decline,
While thus, with our unactive hands, we seem
As chain'd, nor seek Our Countrey to redeem.
Rome, though remote, with her Decrees alone,
Extends perfidious Massanissa's Throne;
Our Walls contracts, deprives us of our Force,
And from Our Temples doth Our Gods divorce.
All that with Us is Sacred, is their Scorn,
Our Altars Spoils, Triumphal Cars adorn.
'Tis not enough that they should Us subdue,
Our Laws are lost, Religion's captiv'd too.
Yet this, true Libyan Courage may restore,
We may do that which hath been done before.
A Woman first Our Fam'd Foundation lay'd,
Heav'n hath to Thee, a Soul, as brave convey'd.
All that was Great in Her, Thou art, and more:
As to Begin, is less, than to Restore.
Her weak Beginnings nothing did oppose.
Rome, and the World about Us, are Our Foes;
As if that Heav'n had built up all these Pow'rs
To be o'rthrown, and make that Glory Ours.
Great Actions from their dangers take esteem,
And should we want success, we shall not seem
In Story less: 'tis next to Victory
To attempt bravely, and if Carthage be
Destin'd to Ruin, Future Times will call
Us Happy, who scorn to survive her Fall.
As thus he spake, Barcinna whom the same
Thoughts and desires did equally inflame,
Prevents the rest with Kisses, and inspires
New Rage into Him with those melting Fires;

Applauds his high Designs (for her before
The Furies had possess'd with this and more:)
Tells him, with smiles, This, Hasdrubal, alone,
Becomes Our Blood, and can give Thee a Throne.
Hopes of Revenge and Pow'r, may Woman bear
To all Attempts, if not restrain'd by Fear.
Her above that Barcean Blood had plac'd,
And therefore all things else, she soon embrac'd;
All that his Reason could before Her lay,
As to be shun'd, her Courage takes away.
She Rome's and Massanissa's force defies.
And fondly dreams of Future Victories.
Cries, Come (my Hasdrubal) 'tis only Fear
Hath kept that Yoak, upon Us, which We bear.
Now shake it off; United Force, though less
Than when dispers'd, is nearer to success.
Our strength, which once their Policy disjoyn'd,
Their Tyranny doth now more firmly bind.
Carthage is One; not Hanno's Race can call
Themselves more free, than that of Hannibal.
We all are equal Slaves, all equal Foes,
Rome after Victory, no Difference knows.
No Faction now, will for their Peace declaime,
All equally detest the Dardane Name.
Babes from Our brests, an innate hatred take,
And curse a Roman, soon as they can speak.
No Age, or Sexe, will their best Aid deny,
And those, who cannot fight for Us, can die.
Die to appease those gods, whose Rites now lost,
Have made poor Carthage mourn, and Rome to boast.
As this she spake, her hand she laid upon
A lovely Boy (scarce six year old) her Son.
Princes, in pious Acts, should Leaders be,
And this the gods expect from Us, (said she)

This was the First-Fruit of our Nuptial Vow,
And we the Noblest Victims should allow
To Pow'rs, which we adore: Amaz'd he stood
At this, and Horror runs through all his blood.
Within himself he feels a cruel War,
And yet assents to what he do's abhor.
And streight by either Hand, they lead the Boy,
A Sacrifice both of their Grief and Joy.
The Place and Season for the Fact conspires,
The Night in Horror wrapt up all her Fires.
The Moon to Hell retir'd, asham'd her Eye
Should see it, while She govern'd in the Sky.
The Place (a Place of Terror) was the Wood
Where once Elysa's Stygian Temple stood.
Where Birds of Night, perpetual Dirges sung
Of those were sacrificed, and among
The Boughs and hollow Trunks, sad howlings gave.
Under the Temple was a spacious Cave,
Where in eternal Darkness next to Hell,
The dreadful Priestess, ever chose to dwell;
Detesting all that pleas'd the Eye or Ear,
A constant Friend to Terror and Despair.
Three Lamps, with Sulphur fill'd, a noisome Mist
Expir'd, and Serpents in each corner hist.
The Roman General, who did abhor
What here was done, after the former War
This Temple with the Grove had quite destroy'd,
But yet they, secretly, the Cave enjoy'd.
In midst of which a Marble Altar stood
Still to maintain their thirst of Human blood.
Hither this Impiously Pious Pair
Conduct their Son, upon whose curling Hair
His cruel Mother several Fillets ty'd,
In each a Charm; pleas'd with their Fatal Pride,

The Pomp of his approaching Death, the Child
First on his Father, then on's Mother smil'd;
Who takes Him in her Arms, and thrice caress'd
With Kisses, while He, mutually express'd
His Joy, and's hands upon her Shoulders throws;
While the sad Father, by his silence shows
His inward grief. She like Medea round
The Altar trots, and with the dreadful sound
Of words, scarce understood, the Pow'rs of Hell
Implores, with all that in those Mansions dwell.
All that she fondly, did believe could lend
Their Aid, or did of Cadmus Race descend.
Above the rest She Hannibal invokes,
And streight at his great Name the Altar smokes.
A thick and gloomy Flame from neighb'ring Hell,
Arose, and struck the Sense with Sulph'rous smell.
Pleas'd with the Prodigy (she cries) See there,
My Hasdrubal, see where the gods appear.
From her own Throne, see Hecate, intent
In what we offer here, her Fire hath sent
A friend to Hannibal, and all that are
Friends to his Name, and Carthage in his War,
The Omen (pow'rful goddess) we adore,
And thy forsaken Rites we thus restore.
This said, the dire distraction of her Face
Creates and adds new Terror to the place.
The Boy snatch'd up, She on the Altar flings,
And horrid Notes in broken Murmurs sings.
So to delude, and to suppress his cryes,
Till smiling on her Face with doubtful Eyes,
The Stygian Knife, was to his Throat apply'd,
Which twice the trembling Father put aside;
Until at length Religion oversway'd,
And Nature Laws, which she detests, obey'd.

The Wound thus by the Mother given, the Life
O' th Child, streight follow'd the Retracted Knife.
Then with redoubled strokes she opens wide
His brest, where her dire Hands the Lungs divide,
And a fresh Part at every dreadful Name
Of Hecat, offers to the Rising Flame,
Till, with the Night consum'd, th'approaching day,
(Which must not see such deeds) them call'd away.

And now the noise of war all Libya fills,
And Prodigies denounce approaching Ills.
Wild Beasts the Desarts quit in midst of Day,
Run into Cities, and return with prey.
Serpents from thirsty sands to Rivers fly,
And poison springs, while there they drink and dye.
Earth in her Womb doth strange Convulsions feel,
By which the Palaces of Princes reel,
As drunk, with lusts of those, who in them dwell.
And to fore-shew their Masters Ruin, fell.
The Sea, unmov'd by Winds, is heard to roar,
And casts up bodies long since wrack'd ashore.
Prodigious Fires above her Surface flie,
While Mariners no more explore the Skie
For Guides to sail, but fool'd by Pannick Fear,
Forsake their Course, and after Meteors steer.
Comets with points uncertain shine above,
And threaten all beneath them as they move:
Or menace, as their flatt'ring Prophets say,
All Nations but their own, and so betray
To a secure Credulity their Friends,
Or to presume 'gainst that, which Heav'n intends.
And such was Hasdrubal's sad Fate, who now,
Assumes the War, under a guilty Vow.
Turns all those threatnings of the gods on those,
Who Carthage emulate, or are her Foes.

'Mong all the Nations, that in Libya dwell,
From whence the Niles eternal Waters swell.
To Ethiopian Woods, or dangerous Sands
Of Nasamon, none equal Force commands
To the Numidian, a People blest
With Air, and Soil, more temperate than the rest.
They Natures Dictate follow every where,
And promptly, whatsoever Earth doth bear,
Take up for Food, without all skill to raise
The Appetite, the Dews of Nights and Days,
Intemperate Heats, they patiently endure,
And to Continual Toil themselves enure.
Ready for War, flying the Arts of Court
And City-frauds, They to the Fields resort,
Lodge with their Flocks, still arm'd, expect the Foe,
No costly Equipage for Camps they know,
Nor ought that may effeminate the mind.
Over all these, since Carthage first declin'd,
Great Massanissa reign'd; but, soon as Fate
Took him away, Rome conscious of what weight
That Scepter was, not to be sway'd by One
Alone, divides it. On his Eldest Son
The noblest Part, the Charge of Peace at Home,
Bestows, with Cirta's Riches, but (what Rome

Did more import) upon the Next confers
The Charge of all Numidia's Arms and Wars.
Whither they should pursue Maurusian Horse,
Or Byrsa's Walls, or Hippargeta Force:
Or following Roman Ensigns Cities aw
That doubtfull stood, and to Alliance draw.
The Third the People did to Justice bring,
And Laws observ'd, in this no less a King;
Which Title by Decree they all did share,
And equally the Royal Ensigns wear.
With this Gerion Rome a while maintain'd
Th'instable pow'r she had in Africk gain'd;
But when despair again had Carthage arm'd
By Hasdrubal's successful Troops alarm'd,
The Libyan Cities, the attested gods
Forget, and where they see the present odds,
To Carthage, or to Rome, as Friends adhere,
And lend their Aid, induc'd by Hope or Fear,
Some nobler Souls, their Countrey's Freedom fir'd,
Some Memory of Ancestors inspir'd,
Some that their Captiv'd gods might be restor'd,
Or Princes, whom they next to them ador'd;
Of these Numidia many yet retain'd,
Who Syphax Name still honour'd and disdain'd

The pride of Rome, who no distinction made
'Twixt Kings, and Slaves, but did alike invade
Their Necks with Chains, and those of highest Birth,
(The next to Heav'n) levell'd with basest Earth.
And, now with Hasdrubal Phamæas joyns
Numidian Troops, and Rome's Command declines,
Derides her Fasces and her Consul meets
In open Fields, and valiantly defeats
Her late Victorious Bands, and by success
Her pow'r impairs, and makes her Glory less.
So that the Faith of Massanissa's Heir,
In Arms is broke, or else depress'd by Fear.
While, doubtful, He his promis'd Aid with-draws,
And seems to favor Libya's Common Cause,
Jealous alike, both of his Friends, and Foes,
Through Desarts, and through Sands, the Consul goes,
To seek a safe Retreat, sometimes he stands
In Battle, in a Plain; His weary Bands
Sometimes encamp'd, are licenc'd to repose,
When streight they are surrounded by their Foes:

Whose active Fury, to disturb their Rest,
With show'rs of Darts, and Arrows them infest;
While, as besieg'd, they day and night defend
Their Trenches, and still fresh Assaults attend.
Here, with light Troops Phamæas scoures the Plains,
There Hasdrubal all Forragers restrains,
Till Famine wak'd in every Roman Brest
That ancient Valour which their Fear supprest:
Creates new Rage, gives such a Sense of Shame,
That, even the Common Men their Leaders blame,
Call for the Signal, and without delay,
Through their insulting Foes do force their way.
All Order's lost, and, what they did allow
Was Mutiny before, is Valour now.
In this brave Fury, with a joynt Consent
They fill with Clamour the Pretorian Tent,
Where for the Rest, Sertorius thus begun,
Do we live, Consul, and behold the Sun,
While all the Victories, that Rome may boast,
In this Inglorious Camp, are tamely lost?
Even we are they, who in the Book of Fame,
Degenerate, and Base, expunge her Name;
All the Disgraces, which her Infant Wars
Had brought upon her, were with noble Scars,
In her Maturer Age to Glories turn'd,
And, where She once her slaughter'd Sons had mourn'd,
Triumphal Arches stood, which now again
We here demolish, with a deeper stain
Than Caudine straits, or the Victorious Gaul
Could ere have giv'n, what more could Hannibal

Before have wish'd, or Carthage now desire
Then thus to see the Roman Youth expire,
Arm'd, and without a Wound. It is Our Fear
Gives Strength and Courage to the Foe, 'tis here,
We put the Capitol, into their Pow'r.
To ravish Matrons, Virgins to deflowre,
To captivate Our Sons, and what is more
To give Them, All that World was Ours before.
Oh base desire of Life! when abject Fear
Of Death, shall prompt Us all, those Ills to bear!
These Wounds (with that detects his Brest) these Scars,
Ensigns of Honour, gain'd in Former Wars,
Would blush for shame, did not the want of Food
Which makes them pale, deny supplies of Blood.
If after this, another life there be
Where Vertue hath reward, unhappy We
Who, through this Infamy, no place can claim
In those blest Shades, with those of Roman Name.
Unburied here, our Ghosts must wand'ring go,
Lamenting still this Memorable Wo,
And never Lethe pass. As this he spoke,
A storm of sighs the Camp about him shook.
Their pallid Cheeks o'reflown with Silent Tears,
And Indignation strait expelling Fears,
Their Eagles are advanc'd, and every Hand
Arm'd for the Charge, expecting the Command
Which now the Consul gives, and leads them on,
With that the Gates and Ramparts overthrown,
They rush into the Plain, as when with rain
Increas'd, the Banks that lately did restrain
Its force, a River overflows, and fills
The neighb'ring level round, strait to the Hills
The Shepheards with their Flocks affrighted fly,
The Heards their Pastures quit, and suddenly

The Folds and Cottages are born away,
And to the Torrent, the whole Field's a Prey.
With no less Fury the Ausonian Bands
The Libyans invade; no Force withstands
Where they appear, but scatter'd through the Plain
Where Terrour leads, they fly, while all, in vain,
Here Hasdrubal, Phamæas there exclaims,
Upbraids their flight, recalls them by their Names
Into the Fight: but deafness every Ear
Had stopt, and Sense of Honour's lost in Fear.
All forward press, not any One is found
To turn his Face, and take a noble Wound,
But feel that Danger, which they never see,
While Showers of Piles and Javelins as they flee,
Fall on their backs. Confusion drives them all,
Yet stops their speed, while every one doth call
On his Comrade, and with a threatning Hand
Repells his Steed, and bids him make a stand,
Yet spurs to be the first, until the Night
Approach'd, and better to secure their flight,
Upon an Hill a spatious Wood appear'd,
Thither they flie: there, boldly, what they fear'd
Examine, why they fled? who first begun
To turn their backs, and from the Combat run?
None guilty are, on Fortune, all, the Crime
Reject, and vow Revenge another time.

And now with constant speed, the Hours had run,
To call to Thetis Bed the sleeping Sun:
Where while He lay, both Armies watchful are,
And fear, alike, the Stratagems of War.
The Roman General amidst the Plain
Sets out, anew his Camp, and calls again
His Troops from the pursuit, rewards the Toils
Of this so happy Day, with Libyan Spoils.

Spoils by despair, as well, as Valour gain'd,
And without danger not to be retain'd.
For now incens'd, at their so shameful Flight
The Libyans in Counsel spend the Night,
And with the rising Day advance again,
And cover with their rallied Force the Plain,
Rending with barbarous showts the trembling Air,
When strait the Romans to their Arms repair;
And with prompt Courage in good Order from
Their Trenches March, as if in view of Rome,
Their Publique gods, and every Private Lar,
Had witness'd, how they then pursu'd the War.
The Libyan Troops on every side appear,
Sometimes the Front infest; sometimes the Rear.
Then on the Flanks impetuously fall,
Or flying, Parthian-like, with Arrows gall
Th'advancing Foe, whose constant Valour makes
His way, and all Attempts against him breaks.
As when a Bull, first in the Cirque appears
While Crys of Dogs, and Showts of Men his Ears
Invade, He expects the fight, and murmuring stands
And kicking into Air the flying sands,
Prepares his Fury, that still greater grows
By the Attaques, and Clamor of his Foes.
Which, though on every side he bravely scorns,
Some crushing with his Feet, some with his Horns,
Tost to the Clouds, through all he, fearless, runs,
Meets every Wound, nothing of danger shuns,
Till by his rage, his strength improv'd, he o'rthrows
The Bars, and breaks, a Conqueror, through his Foes.

Fam'd through the Libyan Coast, old Hippo stands
Whose Walls, at first, rais'd by Tinacrian Bands;
By Naval Power, o'r all the neighb'ring Sea
Such Terror spred, was so enrich'd by prey,

That, emulous of Utica by none,
She was excell'd, but Dido', Towers alone.
Resolv'd her Fate, whate'r it was, to bear
Where Carthage had a Foe, she, firmly, there
A Friend appear'd, her Enemies defies,
And all her wants, with Roman spoils supplies.
Thither through all the dangers of a way
That or to want or labour could betray
Their troops, the Romans march, with hope their Fame,
(By a fresh Conquest of so great a Name)
Again to raise, to wipe off Widdows tears
At home, and Rome absolve from future Fears.
For weak, as at her Birth then Carthage stood;
Full of distempers, Faint with loss of Blood.
Like a sick body whose declining Parts
Supported are alone by outward Arts;
Which once with-drawn, to Ruin the whole Frame
Inclines, and scarce retains an empty name.
Such then with Hippo's (Carthage) was thy Fate.
Hippo, thy sole Support, and Prop of State.
Whose Friendship (which the World now only knows
By name) all Shocks of Fortune did oppose.

Scorning to base Advantage to give way,
Or let her Profit, 'bove Her Honour sway;
Still mindful of the Vows which she had made,
While even the greatest Libyans betray'd
Their Faith, and such Phamæa's, nor is't strange
That Men of Noble Birth are apt to change.
Since Interest first from Earth Astrea forc'd,
And Piety from Souls of Men divorc'd,
Fear to be less, and an untam'd Desire
To be more great, so furiously conspire,
That rarely Virtue, mixt with their high Blood,
Makes them continue Valiant, Just, or Good.
Whether Ambition to be rais'd above
What Carthage did allow, at first did move
His thought to this, as Massanissa found
Himself above his hopes, with Empire Crown'd,
After he Roman Arms to Libyan joyn'd;
Or that the Fear of Rome's great Power inclin'd
His Soul to Treachery, He in the view
Of his Arm'd Friends, whom that they should pursue
His vile example, he invites aloud,
To Scipio flies, and to Rome's Service vow'd
His future Arms, and safety, basely, sought
From that right hand, which so great Ruine brought
Upon his Countrey, th'Infamous Reward
Of Treason, which all generous Souls abhorr'd,
At Rome receives, with honours seeks his shame
To hide, while Carthage execrates his Name.

And now about the Walls, their Eagles shine
With Silver Wings, while all within combine
Against their Force, no Age, nor Sex their hands
With-hold, but bravely, in divided Bands
Their fiercest Rage, with equal Fury meet,
And Stratagems with Stratagems defeat;
Nor from the Walls alone, their Valour show,
But day and night, with Sallies vex the Foe;
Their Trenches, with their frequent slaughters fill,
And (as all Africk they excel'd in skill
At Sea) the fierce Invaders from the Port
Repel, and in their Gallies Ruins sport.
Not Archimides in Sicilian Wars,
Tossing tall Ships, like Balls, unto the Stars,
As if he had design'd to invade their Sphere,
And fix more wond'rous Constellations there,
Then Colchis had renown'd, could e'r employ
More Arts, the Roman Navy to destroy.
While vain attempts, their Foes with terror fill'd,
And Winter's Cold, their Limbs and Courage chill'd.
When both by Sea and Land incessant storms
Threaten'd to these a Wrack, the Use of Arms
To those deny'd, and the Besieg'd enjoy
All shelter from those Ills which them annoy:
And with their plenty from the Walls upbraid
Their Camps necessities, with Wealth display'd,
Their silent Bands to new Attaques invite,
And proudly, but in vain, provoke the fight.
For now the change of Fasces, as the year
Expir'd, and Augurs superstitious Fear,
The Consul to remove the Camp perswade,
And their known Valour to strange doubts betray'd;
While from their Birds fantastick Appetite,
Which Food rejects, or their Ambiguous flight,

They boldly dare pronounce the future State
Of things, as if they read the Book of Fate.
And from swoln Entrails of slain Beasts divine
That Carthage then should rise, and Rome decline.
Even those who Nature's Secrets with a more
Sublime Conceit, and sharper Sense explore,
From the Aspects of Stars and Planets seem
To stamp their guilty Follies with esteem,
And Heav'n entitle to the Crime, and strait
The Consuls silent Orders for Retreat
Run through the Camp, and cover with the Night,
From Hippo, the dishonour of their Flight.

The Moon with all her Starry train gave way,
To the Alternate Empire of the Day,
When to the Walls the People hast in Arms
Ready to entertain those fierce Alarms.
Which gave the rising Morn, a deeper Red,
And all the Furies with dire slaughter Fed
But now no Warlike Sounds invade their Ears,
Peace shines about, the Ensigns of their Fears
Are all remov'd, and what they there before
Had trembling view'd, they boldly now explore.
With busie eyes and hands their Children show
Each Quarter of the Camp, where every Foe
Of name his Tent had pitch'd, and, vainly, kind
Promise them spoils, of what was left behind.
No more confin'd, out at the Ports they run,
And, in their Sallies, what they late had done
With glory to their joyful friends repeat,
How here Phamæas in a base Retreat,
A Libyan, from Libyan Ensigns fled,
And in the Roman Camp his hated Head
Secur'd. How there the stout Isalces, while
His Friends retir'd to saftety, till a Pile

Struck through his heart, from an unerring hand,
The Victime of his Countrey, kept his stand;
Not Cocles, when the Tuscan King pursu'd,
(Though happier in his Fate) more bravely stood
The memory of his Fall mix'd Joy with tears,
And thoughts of dangers past, reviv'd their fears.
The wise, though safe, are doubtful still in War,
And think their dangers near, though ne'r so far.
Back to the Temples then, with Garlands crown'd,
They Pæans sing, and strew with flow'rs the ground.
The Priests their Offrings on the Altars lay,
And Vows for their Recover'd safety pay.
All joys of People, who by Heav'n are bless'd,
With unexpected Peace, are there express'd.
As when his Vessel charg'd with all the Wealth
The East affords for Pleasure or for Health.
A Merchant in return by tempest tost,
His Helm disorder'd, Sails, and Riggings lost;
While death and horror him surround, his prayer
Now undisturb'd, and lengthen'd by Despair,
When beyond hopes, the Seas, and Angry Winds,
By some propitious god appeas'd, he finds,
And the desired Shore attain'd, at last,
He values safety, by his dangers past,
Which to delight his Friends, are often told,
And from his former Fears, create him Bold.

But Utica, reserv'd by Fate to be
The last Retreat of Vanquish'd Liberty
(Since there, the Senate's General must fall,
Whose envious Ancestors so oft did call
For Byrsa's Ruin) the Ausonian troops
Receives, and to Inglorious Fasces stoops.
Not conscious then, that in succeeding time,
A Roman hand should vindicate that Crime,
And Cæsar seem on Cato's Name to take
Revenge, in Utica, for Carthage's sake;
Which Act, alone, could Juno's Wrath appease,
And in the Shades below, sad Dido please.

FINIS.

The Peace after the end of the Second Punique War, continued about 50 years; during which time though the Carthaginians increased in Wealth and Pople, Massanissa very injuriously possessed himself of much of their Territories, and though they often appealed to the Romans, yet could they never have redress; which in some of the Great Ones added much to their in-bred detestation of their power over them.

Massanissa presuming upon his friendship with the Romans, had so highly provoked the Carthaginians, that they sent an Army against him under the Conduct of Hasdrubal, who was overthrown; by reason of which, Massanissa not onely more encroached upon them, but the Romans likewise (to whom they still appealed for Justice) made this an infringement of an Article of their League, obliging them not to take Arms against an Ally of Rome, and thereupon prepared for War.

The Numidians though their Countrey was very fertil, wholly neglected Tillage and all sort of Husbandry, living in Tents, and removing as their Pasture failed; till Massanissa having united Syphax Kingdom to his own Inheritance, reduced them to a more civil life. Vid. App. lib. Libyc.

Though these Sacrifices were in use with some other Nations: (even among the Romans, until prohibited by Decree of Senate, An. Urb. Cond. 657. Cornel. Lepid. and Licinius Crassus Consuls; Plin. lib. 30. Natural. Histor.) yet most notorious they were among the Carthaginians, who observed them yearly. Vid. Sil. Ital. lib. 4.

In great Calamities, commonly the Children of the Nobility were chosen by Lot, who sometimes redeem'd them by the purchase of others; whose Mothers lost their Reward, if they were seen to weep or sigh: continually kissing and flatt'ring their Children, that the Sacrifice might not be offered weeping or lamenting. Vid. Arnob. lib. 8. Plutarch. de Superstit.

Massanissa confident of the Friendship he had contracted with the House of Scipio, at his death left his Kingdom to be divided among his three Sons, as Scipio should determine; who so disposed the parts of it, as none of them should be intrusted with too much power. Appian. ibid.

Cirta, situate in the midst of Numidia, the Metropolis of Massanissa and his Successors Kingdom, and by them made so potent, that it could furnish out 10000 Horse, and 20000 Foot. Vid. Strab. lib. 17.

Three Brothers who reign'd in Spain, so unanimous in their Government, that they gave occasion to Poets to fain them one Monster with three heads, and all members trebled, &c.

Hasdrubal had in the Field a flying Army of about 20000 men, with which he continually infested the Romans then in Africk; and upon some successes over Manlius the Consul, several Cities declared for him, and some joyned with him in the Field.

Phamæas was made General of the Horse to Hasdrubal, and so active, that he in several conflicts, worsted the Romans, and in their Marches cut off their Provisions. Vid. Appian. ibid.

The ill success of the Roman Arms both under Manlius and Calphurnius, gave courage to some to declare against them, and many to appear Neuters; among others one Bithyas left Gulassa (the second Son of Massanissa) and fled with 800 Horse to Hasdrubal, while Micipsa and Mastanabas his two Brothers, could not be invited to take the Field, neither would Gulassa march with the Army under his command, but with the rest expected further Events. Vid. Appian. ibid.

Where near the Town Caudium, the Samnites vanquished the Roman Army, commanded by Sp. Posthumius, making them all to pass under the Yoke.

This Hippo (for there were two in Africa) was likewise called Hippargeta, situate betwixt Carthage and Utica, of great strength, and very commodiously built upon the Sea coast by Agathocles King of Syracusa. Their Emulation of Utica's power, made them constant in their friendship to Carthage.

Calphurnius comming before Carthage, those of Hippo were so active in its Reliefe, by burning his Engines, and destroying his Works towards the Sea, that quitting Carthage, he resolved first to be revenged on Hippo; but spending the whole Summer in this Siege, with great loss both of Men and Honour, he was forced to retire to Winter in Utica. Vid. Appian. ibid.

Phamæas resolving to revolt to the Romans, would render himself to none but Scipio Æmilianus then a Commander under the Consul, and famous for his Integrity; who sent him to Rome, where the Senate received him with great Honour. Vid. Appian. in Lybicis.

Horatius Cocles, who gave a stand to the whole Army of Porsenna, while the flying Romans broke down the Bridge over Tyber behind him, which saved the City.

Utica situate in the same Bay with Carthage, and next to it in power, was the Receptacle of the Romans for the management of their Affairs in Libya, and after the destruction of Carthage was the Metropolis.

After the defeat near Thapsus of Scipio, Cato (as the last General of the Pompeian party) commanded then in Utica, and finding himself unable to resist Cæsar, (who marched towards him) in despair of a retreat from his Power, (to which all Africa did then submit) slew himself, and from his death, and Command there, was called Uticensis.

Cato the Censor (Ancestor to the former) who never gave his opinion in the Senate (after the second Punique War) but he added, This is my Opinion, And that Carthage should be destroyed. That he was envious of the glory of Scipio, who put Carthage into the power of the Romans, may be observed in all Story.

Lib. II.

Now with a thousand Tongues, and thousand Eyes,
Dispersing Terrors, Fame from Libya flies.
And, is at Rome, as readily, receiv'd,
As Truth it self, and easier, Far, believ'd.
Their long success, crown'd, with so many years,
In Africk check'd, revives, and heightens fears:

As if the Vertue of the Roman Name,
Were, now, extinguish'd, or not still the same:
No more the Fam'd Marcelli, Fabii, or
The Scipio's and Pauli, great in War,
In Italy survive. Luxurious Peace
Had made the Memory of their Deeds to cease.
Their sacred Images, alone, declare
Their Vertues, none their Imitators were.
It is enough th'Italian Youth enjoy
Their Wealth, acquir'd, with honour'd Wounds, and cloy
Their wanton appetites so, that even Fate
Seems, now, to change, 'gainst the degenerate,
Who nothing of Themselves, can, justly, boast,
But their great Father's glories, which th'ave lost.

Such, from Olympus Top, Eternal Jove
The Race of Mars, and of the Queen of Love,
Beheld, and both the Deities arraigns,
In these mild words: What (Daughter) now remains
To ruin thy great Issue, or (Mars) thine,
If You, your Interest, fo far disjoyn?
You Cytherea may indulge to Love,
Yet suffer that, He Warlike Arts improve.
What will become of your Iulus race?
Where will They, who must this Celestial place
Supply, be found? who must the Heavens with Stars
Adorn, unless they, first, shall shine in Wars?

See how near Heaven, bright Vertues Temple stands,
And next Our Capitol, the Earth commands.
Your Issue (Mars) must that highway pursue,
And though they keep her Temple, in their view,
Yet on those Altars first, their Victims lay,
And then to Her, their lesser Offrings pay.
With which, be you content, if more you claim,
What was for Honour meant, will turn to shame:
Bid then, thatMercury to Earth descend,
And to lascivious Rome this strait commend.
Tell her how weak, her Riot, and Excess,
Have rendred Her; how much, She, now, is less
Since She gave Ear to those Circæan Charms,
And, stood so deaf, to Libya's alarms:
And, that He may, more readily, diffuse
This Our Command, some Noble Heroe chuse,
Who still preserves the Honour of his Race,
Nor will their Glory, by his Vice, deface,

If any such Rome, yet, retains, he must
From Us descend, the Rest are lost in lust.

At this Command, strait the Cyllenian God,
Wings both his Head, and Feet, assumes his Rod,
With which, He can the Pow'rs of Hell subdue,
Imprison'd Shades relieve, make them review
Desired Day: the restless Furies charme
To sleep, and their dire Ministers disarme.
Then, suddenly, to Earth, He takes his flight,
And summons, from the bosome of the Night,
Her Troop of dreams, that fly, in various Shapes,
Through all the World, commit their several Rapes
On Humane Sense. Some with dire Horror fill
The Fancy: Some the Stygian drops distill
Of black despair, into distracted Minds,
And where these fix, th'Afflicted hardly finds
Relief, awake. Others, more lightly, fly
Through all variety of thoughts, and die
As soon as born. Some kind and gentle move,
Off'ring soft pleasures, and delights of Love.
All these, near Earth still hov'ring, strait the God
Dismiss'd, as useless, to their dark Abode;
And, from the numerous Throng, selected One
Of a Celestial Form, which waits Alone
On Souls, that still abstract from all that's vain,
None but divine Idea's entertain.
And when they wake, to what they dream'd aspire,
And cherish in themselves the Sacred Fire.

Not far from Rome, yet distant from the noise,
And tumult, that a Studious Mind destroys,
A Villa stands, in the Campanian Fields,
That, a Fair Image of Elysium yields,
Where a brave Youth, of that Illustrious Line,
To which, the Fates of Libya did resigne
Their pow'r o'r Carthage, the great Acts revolv'd
Of Ages past, and with Himself resolv'd
To imitate, at least, if not exceed
His Ancestors, and each Heroick Deed.
Hither the God conducts the Heav'nly Dream.
The Youth was studious on that Noble Theam,
That Immortality to Souls assigns,
And Man unto the Gods, by Reason, joyns.
Soon as they here descend, th'Arcadian Wand
Sheds Sleep through all the House. From Scipio's hand
Strait Divine Plato fell, and while with swarms
Of thoughts, the Brain his busie Fancy warms,
The Dream great Africanus Shape assumes;
Not such, as when to shun ingrateful Rome's
Impetuous Votes, He to Linternum came,
And on his Tomb engrav'd their lasting Shame.
But like Him, when his Valiant Hand redeem'd
From Libyan Chains, the flatt'ring Tribes, and seem'd

A God, and, to the Capitol convey'd
His Lawrel in the Thunderers bosome laid.
Such, and so Great He now appear'd, and while
The Youth, with horror trembled, with a smile
That promis'd safety, to a Starry Place,
(From whence, beneath Him, all of Humane Race
He might survey, conducts Him) Hence, said He,
The World, and thine own Fortune thou shalt see.
Behold that City, which I first subdu'd,
By which a bloody War is now renew'd;
Were Rome as Vertuous now as She was then,
Carthage could ne'r shake off her Yoke agen.
Rebellion never dares her Arms display,
But when the Rulers Vertue doth decay.
Thou shalt this Age redeem; Carthage by Thee
Shall be o'rthrown, and Thou shalt honour'd be,
With envi'd Titles, heretofore by none
Deserv'd, nor due, but unto Us alone.

Yet other Honours Thee attend; Thou Nile,
Thou Syria, Asia, Greece, shalt rule, and while
Fame of a dangerous War, with terror fills
All Latium, to divert impending Ills,
To Thee, when absent, Rome shall recommend
Her Safety, and her unsought Fasces send.
Then Spain shall tremble, and, the vainly proud
Numantia, as with Thunder from a Cloud,
Dash'd by thine Arms to ruin, shall proclaim
Titles as great as Carthage to thy Name.
Thy Trophies then thou shalt in Triumph bring
To Jove, and Rome shall Joyful Pæans sing.
But Envy will on all thou dost attend,
Envy, that never doth the Good commend.
She thy bright Glories, by thy Friends shall wound:
Yet persevere; Thou shalt at length, be crown'd

With all that Rome can give, nor safe will She
Her self esteem, till thou Dictator be.
This is thy way to Heav'n, who deviates from
This path, can ne'r to these blest Mansions come.
For know that God, who did create this Place,
Reserves it, only, for that Glorious Race,
Whose Souls from hence descending, while they are
Confin'd to Bodies, which, on Earth, they wear;
Love Vertue, and their Countrey's Good pursue:
Its Wealth and Power augment. Themselves subdue,
And, so the Fury of their Lusts restrain,
That, We, with Joy, receive Them here again.

This said, the God, and Dream, at once, forsakes
The Youth, amaz'd, who, at the instant, wakes,
And seems still to behold, with fixed eyes,
The fleeting Shade, to whom, he, thus, replyes:
Whether Thou art a Deity, or Shade,
Or Dream, that thus do'st, now, my Soul invade,
Thine Image I'l retain, and so pursue,
That, though it Fiction seem, it shall be true.
Whether it be the Crime, or Common Fate
Of Rome, so vilely to degenerate,
From what She was; to scorn Immortal Fame,
And Future Bliss, for present Lusts, disclaim;
My single Vertue, shall her Name redeem,
Her Honour raise, revive her lost esteem.
The Actions of Those, of Noble Blood,
Make all beneath Them, either bad, or good.
Example rules the World; and all that She
Should imitate, Rome shall behold in Me.

Assist me then thou God! if such Thou art!
Or Africanus Shade! to Me impart
All that was thine. I shall desire no more
To make Rome Greater, than She was before.

As this He spake, the Night to Hell retir'd,
The Morn arose. He as from Heav'n inspir'd,
To Rome strait posts, in's Mind revolving all
The Dictates of his Dream: the Capitol
First in his prospect, thither He repairs,
And, while He Jove consults, of all his cares,
The Genius of Rome the Senat fills
With Voices, that enumerate the Ills
That by their former Generals were brought
On Roman Arms, while They in Libya fought,
Till Africanus undertook the reins
Of War, and Carthage brought to Rome in chains:
This made Her Mistriss of the World, but now
Since Fate would not the same Success allow
To other Chiefs, and Utica alone
The Roman name, as Soveraign, wou'd own,
Heav'n had no other Hand reserv'd t'efface
Those Stains, but one of that Illustrious Race.

With that, bold Factions the Court divide
Some for themselves, some for their friends employ'd
Their tedious Harangues, and, some who ne'r
Had merited in Arms, more fierce appear
To undertake the War, and promise more
Then those, who had been Conquerours before.

But, while they thus contend, like Rising Day
Dispersing Foggs, and chasing Clouds away,
Young Scipio enters. The Majestick Grace
With which He mov'd, his stout and manly Face
Where all the Lines of sober Courage might
Be seen, and promis'd Victory in fight.

The Eyes of all th'Assembly on him drew,
Who now, no more the fierce debate pursue:
But, as when first to the assembled Greeks,
God-like Achilles, did appear (his Cheeks
Then newly cloath'd with down) deep silence through
The Camp was spread, while all admiring view
The vigor of his Eyes, and Limbs, his broad
And lofty Shoulders, like the Oetean god
In all. Him all the Captains strait commend,
As the most fit with Hector to contend;
Whose Fall alone must ruin hapless Troy.
So Scipio, with universal Joy
The Senate entertain, and, by their choice,
Raise acclamations of the Publick Voice,
Which the Consent of Heav'n, doth strait approve;
While from his Shining Arm, by Thunder, Jove
Serene's the Capitol; with dreadful storms
Makes Libya tremble, and with strange alarms
The Carthaginian Walls and Temples shakes,
So that even Dido, in her Mable, quakes.
No place from Terror's free, the neighb'ring Sea
Swells, and with Waves invades, and drowns the Day.
Night intercepts the Hours, and fills the Sky
With Meteors, that in various Figures fly
Towards Saturnus ruin'd Fane, and, there
O'r his neglected Altars disappear.
Religion then (as Fear before) their Minds
Possess'd, and its Effects most bloody finds.
For now Barcinna, whose Ambition fir'd
Her Husband first, and first the War inspir'd
With all the Cunning Arts, that do infect
Her Sex, or can their Minds to Ill direct,
Th'assembled Matrons (like the Theban Dames
At Trieterick Feasts) with zeal inflames,

Those Ominous Portents on Italy
To turn, and Carthage so from ruin free.
Behold (said she) how the Ausonian god
You summons to his long-destroy'd Abode!
To memory recall, what dire effects
Sicilian Armies, once, for such neglects,
On Africk had, until the god those Rites
Receiv'd, to which He now again invites.
This said, to th'Senate (whom a Pannick Dread
Before had call'd) She (like Agaue) led
Her Frantick Troop. There with redoubled strokes
Her Brest invades, and with wild looks invokes
The cruel god! then to the Fathers thus
Directs her Speech. If, yet, these Walls, and Us
You will secure, if you will expiate
Those Crimes, which these dire prodigies create.
Give to the gods their due; think not your Arms
Shall prosper, while a Foolish Pity charms
Religion thus, and you those Rites forbear
Which to Our Fathers so propitious were.
Twice by Sicilian Bands, hath Libya seem'd
T'expire, as oft by this great god redeem'd:

Nor had the Roman Arms so far prevail'd
Had you in pristine Piety not fail'd.
If We are willing that you should exact
These Victims: We, whose Bowels have been wracke
To bring them forth, why should you fondly love
To hugge those Children, may your Ruin prove?
Or if your Consciences too tender are
To see them bleed, why d'ye pursue the War?
Mistaken Piety! What you to Heav'n
Deny, will be to Latium Triumphs giv'n.
This said, the Place, driv'n by Fanatick zeal,
She quits, and boldly doth to Heaven appeal.
Deep silence seiz'd the Senate, who amaz'd
At what she said, upon each other gaz'd.
At length young Hasdrubal; If it become
Your Wisdom (Fathers) to be rul'd at home,
By this weak Sex, 'tis time that you withdraw
Your Armies from the Field, and take the Law
From Men whose Valour hath the World subdu'd;
For what is now by these desir'd, ev'n rude
And barbarous Nations have exploded long,
And when you shall such Rites perform, you wrong
The gods, who now are better understood:
They, kind, all Sacrifice of Humane Blood
Abhor. We 'ave store of Flocks and Heards, with these,
Or pretious Gums, the Angry Gods appease:
For if your Sons on these dire Altars bleed,
Who shall preserve your Temples? who succeed

In Arms? who shall the Libyan Name defend,
Or Bounds maintain, for which you now contend.
And though Barcinna may our long neglect
Accuse, as if the Gods all else reject
That we shall do, think how great things, how high
Brave Hannibal perform'd, who did deny
The same. What then her Hasdrubal hath done,
Since, to inaugurate his Command, their Son
They sacrific'd. As this he spake, strait all
Their Eyes reflect, on th'Elder Hasdrubal,
Who near him sate, and, as himself was nam'd
(His rage already at his Speech enflam'd)
Snatch'd up a mighty Beam, and strait his Brains
Dash'd out, and with his Blood the Senate stains.
Is't not enough, that thus Gulusta's spy
Oppose our Rites, but He must all decry
That I have done (said He) I, who (you know)
So lately have repell'd th'insulting Foe;
While Utica, alone, the poor Remains,
In hatred to our Carthage, entertains,
And you with silence (while his Crime doth call
Or for the Cross, or some worse torture) all
Approve! 'tis time (with that he spurns his Face)
That now I leave him to you, and this place.
This said, he strait retires. A sudden Dread
Of his revenge, through the Assembly spread,
They soon dissolve. Confusion through the Streets
Runs like Erinnys, seizeth all she meets,

And their distracted Minds with terror fills)
Some least a Civil Rage (the worst of Ills)
Might the divided City open lay
To th'neighb'ring Foe, some least they should betray
Their Liberty to One, who too elate
With his Command, durst, in a free debate,
With noble Blood, a sacred Council staine;
And, rashly, what was Holy held, profane.

But with the day, their fears increast, while they
A Fleet (the Burthen of the Libyan Sea)
Beheld, where Scipio, as He approach'd the Rode,
Offer'd warm Entrails to th'Indulgent god;
Who now with Him conspir'd, and drove before
The floating Sacrifice, to seize the Shore.
From his Pretorian Ship the General views,
And to the rest the joyful Omen shews.
Loud Clamors then o'r all the Ocean ring,
They ply their Oars to Land, and Pæans sing.
This to the Walls the City strait invites,
And all against the Common Foe unites,
None are exempt from Arms, each Sex, and Age
For Universal Liberty engage.

Now to the Shore the Navy joyns, on Land
Brave Scipio leaps, and seizing in his hand
The barren Earth; Thus in the name of Rome
And all her gods, do I (said He) resume
What Africanus did o'r Carthage gain.
No more shall She with Perjuries profane
Those Altars, where She due Obedience swore.
With that He calls the Army all ashore,
Their Courage, makes them hasty to obey,
And some precipitates into the Sea.
But all, at length, the Field, in Order, crown,
And shew their threatning Eagles to the Town.

As thus a while, expecting the Command
T'advance against the Walls, they silent stand,
Fierce Hasdrubal from an adjoyning Wood
That sacred from Eliza's Time had stood,
With his Maurusian Troops (like sudden rain
From Hills swell'd to a Torrent) fills the Plain,
And strikes with barbarous Shouts the Marble Sky.
With which the City from the Walls comply,
And the still silent Roman to the Fight,
Vainly exciting their sad Fate, invite.

But Scipio, whom nothing could provoke
To any thing was rash, the Fury broke
Of his Impatient Bands, with these few words:
Reserve (Companions) your Victorious Swords,
For such a Foe as will with Courage fight;
Not such as these, who in their speedy flight,
Or those thick Woods, where they protected are
From your assault, seek to maintain the War.
As you advance, they will retire, they know,
Tis not a Manlius now, but Scipio,
Who leads you on; that now, like Souldiers you,
And not like Robbers, will the War pursue.
Then take your Piles and Axes in your hands,
Possess that ground, where now the Libyan stands;
None there will dare to see a Romans Face:
And, as you them, like Beasts, to Covert chace,
The Wood, before you, fell, and still pursue,
Till Carthage shall stand naked in your view.

This said, with cheerful showts, they all advance,
And as th'approach the Enemy, his Lance
First Scipio threw, which through Himilco's Head,
(Their Standard-Bearer) pierc'd, and struck him dead:
The Ensigne, with his Body fell, and strait,
As if on Him, Alone, the Common Fate
Of all the Army did depend, they fly.
With that thick Clouds of Piles obscure the Sky
And fall upon their backs; while to the Wood,
They, routed, hast, and various Tracts of Blood,
Detect their flight; the Romans still pursue
The Chace, as Hunters, having lost the view,
Follow the Slatt, till in some open Plain,
From Covert forc'd, the Stagge imbost, is slain.

The Libyans thus dispers'd, their Axes all
Employ, and strait tall Pines and Cedars fall,
With aged Oakes, whose mossy branches wore
The Shields of several Nations, who that Shore
Had fatal found: Whether they wrack'd had been
Before they did on Land, the War begin,
While the perfidious Syrts, ashore had cast
Their Ruins, to be there, as Trophies plac'd:
Or that they had their way through Libya fought,
And thither spoils of other Cities brought;
To boast their Victories, while Carthage stood
Safe, in her Walls, alone, and sacred Wood;
Where She, at length, the Enemy subdu'd,
And, oft, with Joy, as in a Temple, view'd
Those boasted Monuments, that now appear
To give new Matter of Revenge, and Fear.

For Fate, to hasten on what she design'd,
Calls from Atlantick Hills, a sudden Wind
T'assist the Roman Arms, and so conspires,
To ease their Toils. A Pine then Scipio fires,

Whose unctuous, and impetuous Flame soon spreads
It self, through all the Woods, the tallest Heads
Of Cedars, Oaks, and Beeches it invades,
And turns to Ashes the delightful Shades;
Where Nymphs did, since the birth of time, resort,
And with the wanton Faunes and Satyrs sport.
Their Ancient Abodes they now forsake,
And with their dreadful lamentations wake
The salvage Beasts, that in their Dens still slept;
Till rouz'd with sudden noise, strait forth they leapt:
But round besieg'd with flames, soon back retir'd,
And roaring in their bloody Beds expir'd.
Like a rough sea, the smoak to Heaven ascends
And over all the Town, it self extends
In Stygian Waves; the Walls, and Towrs, in Clouds
Are lost, while Scipio his Eagles shrowds
Under this ruin, and on Megarian Walls
With his whole force, like a rude Tempest, falls.
The Place, Religion had with strength indu'd,
And in Amilcar's Temple oft renew'd
Their superstitious Rites, since He in fight
Retir'd to sacrifice, and from their sight
Vanish'd to Heav'n. Here nothing could retard
The progress of their Arms, but the reward
Of Valour (wealthy spoils) which they divide
In hast, and vanquish'd Deities deride.

Here nor Apollo did himself protect,
But seem'd his Golden Image to neglect;
While some his Bow, his Shafts, and Quiver share,
Others his Head divide, and shining Hair,
And then to other parts as rich descend,
And who shall most despoil the God contend.
All sense of Piety in desires of Gaine
Is lost, and Avarice doth all profane.

But Scipio, like Janus several wayes
The dangers past, and what might come survayes,
Considers, that when Victory her Wings
Doth slack, the Conquer'd, oft the Pean sings.
Delay of the pursuit, gives strength, and time
To turn the Victors Valour, to his Crime.
His men, He therefore summons from the Prey,
Who, starting, at the Signal, soon obey,
And with their Arms, again, all stain'd with gore,
Threaten a greater slaughter than before;
While killing they went on, till streams of blood
Choak'd up the way, and the pursuit withstood.

But, now, the Sun declines, and either side,
'Gainst future dangers, for themselves provide.

The labours of the Day could not appease
Their Cares, nor Night their weary Bodies ease.
Not long before, by Censorinus doom,
Carthage, by fatal Change for Peace with Rome,
Her Elephants, her Arms, her Ships, with all
She or her Glory, or Defence could call,
Had to the Foe given up, and, every where,
Was naked left, till Ruin and Despair,
Arm'd her again, no weapons now remain'd,
But such, whose matter from their Temples gain'd,
Or stately Palaces, were forg'd by night,
And fitted, e'r the following day for fight;
By weak and artless hands their Bulwarks are
From Ruins rais'd, and they maintain the war,
With all that makes them weak. Nothing for Sea
Or Land can be suppli'd, but by the Prey
And Spoil upon themselves. Their Cables were
Compos'd of Mothers, or of Virgins hair,
Who cut the lovely Tresses from their heads,
And firmly interwove the Curling threads,
So, that their little Navy was suppli'd
With Cordage, late their Beauty and their Pride;
Such, as ev'n Cytherea had bewail'd,
Had not the Love of Rome, 'bove all prevail'd.

All other gods bemoan'd this City's Fate,
Whose Miseries no Muse can well relate;
Whose dismal Story do's exceed belief,
And Cruelty it self afflicts with grief.
That City, which seven hundred years had stood;
Which with expence of so much wealth and blood,
Her Walls (first measur'd by an Oxe's Hide)
So high, had rais'd, and stretcht her Bounds so wide,
That ev'n Rome fear'd her Yoak, in a vast Flame,
Must lose, at once, her Empire, and her Name.

But Nemesis that sometimes slow, sometimes
As swift, as thought's aveng'd on prosp'rous Crimes,
Their want of Faith, by which they did delude
The gods so oft, their unjust Arms imbru'd
So oft in blood of Innocents, their dire
Excess of Cruelty, by sword and fire,
While they their Arms in Italy employ'd,
And twice two hundred Cities had destroy'd,
Thus to the gods (who then in Counsel sate,
To understand the last resolves of Fate)
With just Complaint declares, If yet (ye gods)
Th'Impieties of Earth, to your Abodes
Have not arriv'd; if their repeated Faults
Have not with horror shook Celestial Vaults;
I, against Carthage, should not now declaim
Above the rest, did not her Impious Fame,
So fill the Universe, that Men begin
To question, that you are, or that yo ave bin.
Your Justice thus deferr'd, makes them grow bold,
And Crimes like Vertues look, while uncontroul'd.

Though Carthage hath been guilty long of all
Those Ills, for which you let your Thunder fall
Upon the World, yet can she not forbear
T'excite your Anger, even in her despair.
Not Tygers, nor her Libyan Serpents can
More Rage and Fury, against wretched Man
Express than She. See! what Infernal Arts
She now in practice puts, in all her parts!
Not Scinis Pine, nor dire Procrustes Bed
So cruel were as these; nor Horses fed
With Humane Flesh. See! How around her Walls,
To the Inhumane Spectacle, She calls
The Roman Camp, while tortur'd Captives lie
Kill'd in each limb, not suffer'd, yet, to die;
But are constrain'd, expiring, to revive,
And, Nature by fresh torments kept alive:
'Tis therefore time this City to debell,
And let them know, such Cruelty's for Hell,
Alone reserv'd, and those who practice't there
On Earth, shall greater Plagues for ever bear.

This said, the Father of the gods, the Hour
Assigns to Fates, to execute their Pow'r,
Which they to Scipio devolve, and He,
In the pursuit of their severe Decree,
Cotho, their best support, first takes away,
And cuts off all Relief by Land and Sea.
Then Famine from the Libyan Desart comes,
And greedily their Stores, for Food, consumes.
Her gastly looks, more dreadful than the Foe,
A long, protracted Death, and Ruin show.
Through the whole City then she raging flies,
And with nefandous Meats a while supplies
The weak remains of Life. All that before
Sagunthus felt, or angry gods could more
Inflict, poor Carthage suffers, till her strength
Unable to support her Arms, at length,
Twice twenty thousand to the Victor yield,
And treacherous Hasdrubal, who long the Field
Had kept, despairing to afford her aid,
Himself, a vile submissive Captive laid
At Scipio's Feet, and in the publick view,
Enchain'd, for an Inglorious Life doth sue.

And, now the Hour arriv'd, and, every where,
Death and Destruction in all Shapes appear.

Like Ghosts the Famish'd People in the Street
Offring their throats to slaughter boldly meet
The Conquerour, who now amazed stands,
And do's a while with-hold his cruel hands,
Till Pity the Relief of death affords
To those, who wanted Blood to stain their Swords;
Who this, their chief Felicity do call,
That with their ruin'd Countrey they may fall;
And leave even Scipio to bewail them, while
Carthage in flames, is made their Funeral Pile.

High as the Capitol, and, long, above
All other sacred held, as that to Jove,
A Temple stood, where the Crotonian God
With Offrings rich, kept his select Abode,
And Libyan Votaries, restor'd to Health.
Here to preserve his Honour, and the Wealth,
A Tower was rais'd, from whence they could explore
The Countrey round, the City, Seas, and Shore.
Thither Barcinna, by her Courage led,
To be more honour'd then her husband, fled.
And, with a few defends the narrow way,
Against the Foe; and while she doth survey
The Stately Palaces, whose lofty Rooms
Enrich'd, with Tapistry from Tyrian Looms,

And Roofs with Gold and Ivory inlay'd,
(To boast her former Wealth) to Vulcan made
A Sacrifice; It well becomes (said She)
(Dear Carthage) thy sad Destiny, and Me,
With Universal Ruin thus to fall;
This Pomp is fittest for Our Funeral.
I cannot wish thee stand, when Rome shall be
Thy Mistriss, and impose her Laws on Thee:
Those who do covet to survive Thee, are
Such, whom not Pity, but Contempt doth spare;
Unworthy, in such glorious Flames to die,
Or mix'd with Thee, as in one Urn to lie
As this She spake, She some, whose little breath,
Could only beg a short Reprieve from death;
Their hands (with Vervin from the Altar fill'd)
Extended to the Roman Camp, beheld,
'Mong these, as chief, her Hasdrubal was seen;
Then, as by Gorgon She surpriz'd had been,
All tears with rage dri'd up; Wretch! worthy all
The Miseries, that can on Carthage fall,
(She cries) perfidious Wretch! who do'st desire
To live, when thy dear Countrey do's expire!
Oh! born to be a Slave! and, what is worst,
Unto the Servitude of Rome accurst.
And most unhappy I, who live to see't!
What shall I say, when Hannibal I meet
In those Abodes where Noble Heroes shine?
How blush, that such degenerate blood, as thine,
I have commixt with His? but this disgrace
With Thee (vile Man) the last of all thy Race,

With Thee shall die; and these thy Sons shall be,
My last of Sacrifice, since got by Thee;
Worthy to be reserv'd, as they are Thine,
For Roman Triumphs; but as they are Mine,
Most worthy thus to die, and with Me go
To Hannibal's Embrace, in Shades below.
This said, into her hand, Erinnys puts
A Sword, with which their tender throats she cuts.
Then to the Fane her flaming Yew applies,
And, to deprive the Conqueror of his prize,
All that she pretious held, or did esteem
Might to the Enemy a Trophy seem,
Into the Fire she throws: then on them lays
Her bleeding Sons; and, as, a while, she prays
Their hovering Manes to attend her fall;
To thee (said she) brave Scipio may all
The gods propitious be, as now they are;
Thou only dost pursue the Laws of War;
But, may that most Effeminate of Slaves
Long, such, be thine; nor cross the Stygian Waves;
Till he shall wish, that joyn'd unto my side,
As in our Nuptial Bed, with Me h' had dy'd.

This said, into the Flames she leaps, and all
The Temple, with the Tow'rs together fall
Upon Her, in one Heap, as if to entomb
Barcinna's Ashes, in despight of Rome;

Fate had that Monument, that all surpast,
For her reserv'd, the Wealthiest, and the last,
That so with Carthage, equal in her Fame,
She might perpetuate to the World her Name.

FINIS.

The ill management of this war; under the conduct of the Consul Manlius, much distracted the Romans, till Scipio Æmilianus, who had gain'd a great reputation (even among his Enemies) was chosen Consul and changed the face of affairs; and under him the War was finished. Vid. Appian. Libyc.

Romulus and Remus descended from Mars.

Julius Cæsar descended from Æneas, the Son of Venus and Anchises.

The Son of Æneas, from whom Julius Cæsar, whose Star appearing at Noon-day, while Augustus (his adopted Son) celebrated Games to his honour, he was deifi'd, first of the Emperours.

The Temple of Vertue, and that of Honour, were so built one by the other, that they could not pass to that of Honour, but through that of Vertue. It was first built by M. Marcellus (out of his Spoils of Sicily) near the Porta Capena, through which they alwayes entered in Triumph.

Venus was honoured with several Names among the Romans, and with several Temples, but the first dedicated to Her at Rome was by Titus Tatius, in that part of the Forum, where the Romans and Sabines laid down their Arms and sacrificed. Vid. Plin. lib. 15.

The Temple of Mars was very magnificently built near the Porta Capena in the High-way (called Via Appia) and so repaired (when decayed) and enlarged by Sylla the Dictator, that it stood upon 100 Columns.

An Opinion cherished by Scipio Africanus, that he was the Son of Jupiter. Vid. Sil. Ital. lib. 13.

Mercury.

The Scipio's.

Plato in his Phædo.

Scipio Africanus causing himself to be buried at Linternum a small Town in Campania, with this Inscription, Ingrata Patria ne Ossa quidem mea habebis, being persecuted by a Faction, after his great Service to his Countrey.

It was the Custom of the Triumpher, soon as he had dismissed his Captives (at the Gate of the Capitol) either to death, or perpetual prison, to advance into the Temple, and after his thanks paid (before the Statue of Jupiter) to all the gods, and a short prayer for continuance of their favour, to offer his Lawrel, and deposite it, in the Lap of Jupiter, or redeem it, with a Crown of Gold.

Comming to Rome, as Candidate for the Ædileship, he was chosen Consul, with applause of the People, and undertook the War of Carthage which he destroyed. He was Nephew to the great Africanus by Paulus Æmilius his Daughter, and by Adoption his Son. In his first Consulship he had a Dispensation for being chosen before the Age allowed, and was employed as Legat, or Proconsul in all the places mentioned; but most famous (next his destruction of Carthage, for Numantia, in Spain) which he likewise utterly destroyed; being chosen Consul in his absence for that War. Vid. Liv. Appian.

This War of Numantia lasted 13 years, in which several great Captains, had been employed; among others Tiberius Gracchus (whose Sister he had married) who made a Peace with the Numantines, so dishonourable, that the Romans afterward broke it. But Scipio undertaking the War, so closely besieged them, for some time, that to the envy of all other before him, he forced them in one day to burn themselves with all their Wealth together; not one remaining, saith Florus and Justine, to wear Chains in his Triumph; though Appian otherwise.

Those who most envied him were the Gracchi his own Kindred, whom he with Scipio Nasica so opposed in their Popular Faction, that one of the Gracchi was slain in the Capitol; and Our Scipio resolving to harangue the People the next day, his Wife Sempronia (as believed) poison'd him, in revenge, and he was found dead in his Bed, when the Commonwealth, was so distracted, that it was conceived, nothing but his being Dictator could settle it. Vid. Cicer. Somn. Scipion.

The præexistence of Souls asserted by Plato in his Phædo and Timæus, and Cicero in Somn. Scip.

Saturn, who when he fled from his Son Jupiter, lay hid in Italy, and denominated the Countrey.

It was the Custom of the Carthaginians when in distress, to make these Barbarous Oblations to Saturn; as when Gelon the Sicilian overthrew Amilcar with slaughter of 150000 Carthaginians, which constrained them to beg Peace; and then when Agathocles so cruelly harassed and spoiled their Countrey, that little was left to Them, besides their City, which Barcinna attributes to the Neglect of those Sacrifices of the Noblest Children offer'd by their Predecessors to the number of 200 at a time: after which their City by degrees recover'd. Vid. Diodor. Sicul. lib. 20. Herodot. lib. 7. c. 153.

This Hasdrubal was Gulussa's Sisters Son, whom the other Hasdrubal, suspecting to hold intelligence with his Uncle, took occasion to kill in the Senate, with some piece of one of the Seats. Vid. Appian. de Libyc.

The Romans.

Vid. Sil. Ital. lib. 4.

After the defeat given by Hasdrubal to the Consul Manlius, the Romans kept themselves within Utica, till the Arrival of Scipio.

The Roman Army under Manlius (saith Appian) was so loose in their Discipline in Africk, that they lived rather like Robbers than Souldiers, and were alwayes beaten; till Scipio, restoring the Ancient Discipline, made them Conquerors.

This Amilcar commanding in Sicily, while his Army was engaged in fight, with-drew himself, either despairing of Victory, or superstitious to obtain it by Sacrifice; but being never after seen, his Army being Conquerors, entertained an Opinion of his Sanctity, and built a Temple, and honoured him with Sacrifice. Vid. Herodot. in Polymn.

This Image of Apollo (of pure Gold, and very large) the Roman Souldiers took and divided; which Sacriledge Scipio (after Carthage was taken) punished, by refusing those that were guilty of it, to have any share in the spoil of the City. Appian.

At their entrance of Megara the Romans made so great slaughter, that the blood of the Carthaginians made the way so slippery, that they could not pursue them, as they fled into the other retreats of the City. Vid. Appian. Libyc.

Censorinus the Consul, had before perswaded the Carthaginians to deliver up all their Arms and Ships, with promise that they should enjoy their Laws, but this done pronounc'd the destruction of their City, and their removal higher into the Countrey, that they might be wholly Strangers to the Sea, by which they had rais'd their Empire. This Sentence drove them to that Despair, which made them renew the war more fiercely, than when in a better condition. Appian. ibid.

Vid. Appian. ibid.

Justice.

While Hannibal was in Italy, he destroyed (saith Appian) four hundred Cities.

Scinis a famous Robber in Thessaly, tyed such as he took Captive, to Branches of a Pine, bowing them to be fastened to their Legs and Arms, and then letting them fly back, suddenly, to their Natural Position, tore the Bodies in pieces.

Procrustes another Robber, who tortured such as he took, on a Bed; to the length whereof he fitted all Bodies; which if too long he cut shorter, if too short he extended by the Rack.

Diomed King of Thrace, fed his Horses with the flesh of such strangers as he took in his dominions.

Hasdrubal to put the Carthaginians past all hopes of mercy from the Romans, with several exquisite and most barbarous torments, put to death all Captives upon the Walls, in view of the Camp. Vid. Appian. ibid.

Cotho was the strongest part of the Haven, encompassed by a Wall, which Lælius took by assault in the night; and this taken, there was no possibility of relief by Sea.

The City being reduced to the last extremity by famine, forty thousand (among whom the Chief was Hasdrubal) came out and submitted to Scipio.

Hasdrubal was placed in Chains, at Scipio's Feet, sitting on a high Tribunal, that he might be seen, by his Wife, and those with Her, in the Temple of Æsculapius.

When Scipio saw the City first a fire, he (considering the instability of Fortune, and that the same thing might happen to his Countrey) wept. Appian.

This Temple of Æsculapius (the most wealthy in all Carthage) with a Tower of great strength, by reason of the narrow passage to it, was situate on eminent Rocks, and had sixty steps to ascend to it, and was the last place of Retreat, when the rest of the City was taken and fired.

Æsculapius.

Verbenæ (or Vervin) with other Herbs and Flowers, taken from the Altars, were as often used as Olive Branches, to be held out by such as begg'd Peace.

This Speech of Barcinna's to Scipio, and her detestation of her Husbands pusillanimity is recorded by Appian.

THEODOSIUS His ADVICE to his Son

[_]

E. Claudian. 40. Honorii Consulat.

Had Fortune plac'd Thee on the Parthian Throne,
(Dear Youth) and far, i'th East, ador'd, alone,
The rude Tiara crown'd thy' Arsacian Brow,
Thy high Descent might then suffice, and thou
Secur'd by Birth, might'st in thy Pleasures flow.
But Rome's great Court, will no such Princes know.
There not in Blood, but Vertue, thou must shine,
And, to that Vertue, noble Actions join;
Which hid, is vile: for, what can it produce,
In darkness drown'd? like Ships, that want the use
Of Helmes; or Lutes without their Strings, or Bows
Unbent. Yet this, who e'r Himself not knows,
Nor can the Passions, of the Mind, allay,
Shall ne'r obtain. To it's a rugged way.

Learn what Man is; when his Ætherial Flame
Prometheus mix'd with Earth, our Parts to frame,
Sincere, as when from Heav'n He stole't, the Mind,
Struggling for liberty, He kept confin'd;

And, when Things Mortal, nothing could compose,
Two more He added: with the Body those
Perish, but, this survives, when they are dead,
And upward flies. Her Empire's in the Head,
Where all Our Actions she directs and guides.
Their station's lower, which the Neck divides
From Hers. Where They her Dictates entertain,
And, that Things Sacred, might not with Prophane
Be mix'd, the Workman gave, to every part,
Its place, distinct. Anger, the Bloodlike Heart
Within the Brest maintains, as fill'd with Fire,
It swells, when headlong Rage, or mad Desire
Of Mischief, it inflames; when chill'd, with Fear,
It self contracts; but, when 'twas found to bear
All things, with violence, and rest deny
To the whole Frame, the Lungs a moist supply
Of Air, yield to the liquid Flames, and, so
The swelling Fibres, through soft Conduits, flow.

But, weighing nought, all coveting, desire
Is forc'd into the Liver to retire,
And lower Tracts. Where, when she opens, wide,
Her Monstrous Jaws, she can be satisfi'd
With no supplies. Sometimes, she's wrack'd with cares
Of Avarice: sometimes the Wounds she bears
Of burning Love: sometimes her Joys o'rflow,
And then, oppress'd with grief, the streams as low.
Then satisfi'd, again, doth higher rise
Like Hydra slain, which Death with Strength supplies.
But, whosoe'r these Tumults can controul,
Gives a safe Temple to the Purest Soul.
Though thou command the farthest Indian Shore,
Though Medes, soft Arabs, Serians thee adore:
If Anger sway thee, base Desires, or Fear,
Thou art a Slave: within thy Self shalt bear

Unequal Laws: Thou, then, of Right, maist bring
All, to thy Rule, when of thy Self, thou'rt King.
'Tis Custom makes Us prone to Sin, and We
To all the Charms, of rein-less Luxury,
By licence, yield: 'tis Conquest to be chast
When Venus tempts thee. Or when Wrong is plac'd
Before thee, to suppress thy Rage. But these
Dire Tumults, wisely, in thy self appease;
Nor what thou maist, but, what becomes thee, do,
And teach thy thoughts, Things Honest to pursue.

But above All, think, oft, on this; That thou
Liv'st in the midst of all the World, and how
Thy Actions to all People are reveal'd.
A Princes Vices never are conceald.
For their high Fate discovers all they do,
And busie Fame explores, and pries, into
Their most reserv'd Retreats. Let Piety
Be thy chief Care; for though We' inferiour be
In all we do, yet Piety, alone,
Can make Us like the gods. Jealous of none
Nor doubtful be, but, Constant to thy Friends;
Not greedy of Reports; who e'r attends
Such Vanities, shall empty Rumors fear,
And, in Himself, be wrack'd with anxious Care.

No Strength of Guards, nor Rings of Piles can prove
So safe to Thee, as will the Peoples Love:
Which Thou shalt never force. Thy Kindness must
Create this in them, and, a Mutual Trust
Thou seest the Worlds fair Frame it self entire
Preserves, by Love. The Elements conspire,
Kindly, among themselves. His Tract the Sun
Still keeps. The Sea, within its shores, doth run:
And th'Aire, by which Earth's compast, and upheld,
Nor presseth on its Burthen, nor doth yield.

Tyrants, who Terrors give, fear more: They still
The Famous envy, and the Valiant kill.
Though Swords and Poison guard them, no Retreat
To them seems safe, they tremble, while they threat.

Like a Good Patriot, and a Father All
Advise not for thy self; and, what they call
The Publick Good, prefer before thine own.
If a Decree thou publish, to be known
As sacred, first observe thine own command;
The People will submit, and ne'r withstand
A Law, whose Author, first, Himself obeys.
A King's Example, all his Kingdom sways.
His Life, more than Edicts, upon the Minds
Of Men prevails; and, as the Vulgar finds
Him change, they follow. But when this is done,
Slight none beneath Thee; nor desire to run
Beyond the Bounds to man prescrib'd; for Pride
Like a black cloud, the brightest parts will hide.

We give Thee not Sabeans, apt to be
Enslav'd. Nor the Armenian Monarchy,
Nor the Assyrian (once a Womans) Throne.
Thou Romans must command: who, long, alone
Have rul'd the Universe: who nor the Pride
Of Tarquins, nor would Cæsar's Laws abide;
Our Annals ancient Crimes record, whose stains
Eternal are. What Age the Monstrous Reigns,
Of the Cæsarean House, will not abhor?
Who knows not Nero's cruel Murthers? or
The horrid Caprean Grotto, by an old
Incestuous Man possest. Thou mayst behold

Great Trajan-still, Immortal, in his Fame;
Not that, with Conquest, He from Tigris came,
And Parthia made our Province: Or, that He
In Triumph, for his Dacian Victory,
Entred the Capitol; but, that his Mind
Was Equal still, and to his Countrey kind.

Such Great Examples (my dear Son) be sure
To follow; and, when call'd to war, inure
Thy Troops to labour, and for sharpest fights
Prepare; let not the Ease, or warm delights
Of Winter Quarters, thy unactive Hands
Un-nerve: but, in some wholesome place, thy Bands
Encamp, and with strong Guards, thy Line defend.
Learn when to close thy Ranks, when to extend
Thy equal Wings, and them to close again.
What Troops are fit for Hills, what for the Plain.
What Valleys apt for Ambush; what wayes are
Most difficult: And if the Foe the war
Within their Walls maintain, for battery strait
Prepare, and let thy Rams the massie weight
Of stones roll down; the arm'd Testudo shake
Their Gates; the lab'ring youth their passage make
Through secret Mines. If a long Siege delay
Thy hopes, let not secure Conceits betray
Thy Conquest, or believe them close block'd in;
Many by Careless Mirth have ruin'd bin.
Straggling they've perish'd, and while Ease they enjoy'd,
Oft Victory hath guardless Troops destroy'd.
Let not thy Tents be fill'd with the delight
Of Courts; nor let arm'd Luxury invite
Soft Ministers of Lust, still to attend
Thy Ensigns; nor be careful to defend
Thy self from Winds and Rain, nor seek to shun
With rich Umbrello's, the too furious Sun.

Eat what thou ready find'st; thy self apply
To constant exercice. Be foremost, high,
Steep Mountains to ascend; nor think it shame
To take an Axe in hand, when need shall claim
A Wood be fell'd. If thou'rt to pass a Moor,
Or Lake, on Horse-back, first, the depth explore.
O'r frozen Rivers let thy Chariot go
The foremost; first swim over those that flow.
When hors'd, through Troops of Horse charge, boldly, when
A-foot, the Foot assist; all danger then
Will glorious, and grateful seem, when thou
Art present, and, shalt each brave deed allow.

But, I thy early Inclinations know,
Be not too hasty, thou wilt stronger grow.
As yet not ten years old, thou dost aspire,
To what ev'n men may dread, I see the Fire,
The Marks of thy great Soul. 'Tis told by Fame,
That the brave youth, who Porus overcame,
'Midst his Companions joys, wept, when he heard
His Father's frequent Victories, and fear'd
Great Philip's prosp'rous Valour, nought would leave
To him for future Conquest. I perceive
Like Motions in thee, and, may divine
(A Father may) thou wilt, hereafter, shine
As Great, as He; nor to my Favour owe
That Empire, which thy Innate Worth may so
Deserv'dly claim. So, when the painted Spring
Appears, the murm'ring Bees their growing King,
Who must conduct them to the Fields, adore;
Their Publick Laws for Hony, and, for store
In Combs, observe. So, a young Bull, whose Horns
Are yet scarce firm the Pasture claims, and scorns
A Rival in the Heard. But war forbear,
Till riper years, and, with thy Brother, here,

(While I'm engag'd) my place secure; you may
Teach unsubdu'd Araxis to obey,
And swift Euphrates. Yours all Nile may be,
With whatsoe'r the Rising Sun doth see.
But, if the Alps we pass, and our good Cause
Have like success, that Warlike France thy Laws
May hear, and Spain, obey thy just Command,
Thou then shalt come, and, I, into thy Hand,
Will all my Conquests put. Then, then may I,
Secure of Fate, pleas'd with my labours, die:
While you both Poles may rule. Mean time, among
The Muses still thy self employ, while young,
And read what thou may'st imitate, converse
With Greece, and Rome's Antiquities; discourse
The Acts of ancient Captains, and apply
Thy thoughts to future war; on Italy
As 'twas of old reflect; if thou aspire
To a forc'd Liberty, Brutus admire;
If Treachery thou hat'st, thou will't approve
Of Metius torture. If thou do'st not love
Too great severity, thou wilt detest
Torquatus Act. If a vow'd death seem best.

The Decii, running into dangers, you
Will reverence. What one brave Man may do,
Cocles, on Tyber's broken Bridge, alone,
Engag'd, and, Mutius burning Hand have shown.
From Fabius learn th'Effects, of wise delay.
What in distress'd affairs, good Conduct may
Perform, Camillus slaughter of the Gauls
Declares. Hence know, whatever chance befalls,
True Merit still excels. The cruelty
Of Carthage gives Eternal Fame to thee
Great Regulus. Had Cato had success,
The Glory of his suffrings had been less.

Observe what sober Poverty may do,
Curius was poor, when Kings he overthrew.
Fabritius poor, when he scorn'd Pyrrhus gold.
Nor did Serranus think it shame, to hold
The dirty Plough, when a Dictator, and
(His humble Cottage view'd) the Lictor's hand
Fix'd to the Willow Posts, his Fasces. There
The Harvests by a Consul gather'd were.
And the rude Fallows (to advance their Rate)
Till'd by a Ploughman, in his Robes of State.

Thus your great Father, like an Aged Guide
Of some tall Ship, by many Winters try'd
With various storms, of the Sea weary grown,
And Age, commends the Helm unto his Son.
Shews him all dangers, and his Arts: What Star
The right-hand guides: How swelling Billows are
By steerage, to be shun'd: The Signs of Rain,
The treachery of clear Skies: When to the Main
The Sun descends, what will ensue: What Wind
Disturbs the Moon, and makes her Face unkind.
But now, great Prince, wherever thou do'st shine,
Whether the South, or Northern Heav'n be thine,
See thy desire fulfill'd; thy Noble Deeds
Thy Son not only equals, but exceeds.

Tiberius Cæsar, retired to Capreæ, a little Island in Campania, where he acted many cruel Murthers and abominable Lusts.

Brutus the first Consul, who expelled the Tarquins, and made Rome a Common-wealth.

Metius Suffetius by the Command of King Hostilius, was fastned to two Chariots, and torn in pieces; for that when he should have assisted him against his enemies, he only looked on, resolving to side with the Conquerour.

Tit. Manlius Torquatus, who slew his Son for fighting without his Order, though he had the Victory, and brought the spoils of the Enemy to his Father, who crown'd him for his Victory, and then beheaded him for his Error.

The Decii were a Noble Family in Rome, three whereof successively vowed Themselves to Death, for their Countrey.

Horatius Cocles. Vid. supra lib. 2. 3 tii. Belli Punic.

Mutius Scævola, who having vowed to kill Porsenna, then besieging Rome, and killing another instead of him, burn'd his right hand for the mistake, in presence of Porsenna; who admiring his Courage, and terrifi'd with the Information, that 300 more had vow'd the like, immediately made peace, and rais'd the Siege.

Fabius Maximus the Delayer, who tired out Hannibal, by his Delays of giving Battle; and so reliev'd his Countrey.

Furius Camillus, the Gauls besieging Rome, being then in exile, came upon them suddenly, destroyed their Army, and relieved the City.

Regulus taken prisoner by the Carthaginians, was sent by them to Rome, upon promise, that if he did not obtain such terms of Peace as they desired, he should return to them. When at Rome, he advised them to pursue the war, and returning to Carthage, was cruelly put to death by them. Vid. Sil. Ital. lib. 6.

Cato Uticensis. Vid. lib. 1. 3d. Punic War.

Curius Dentatus, thrice Consul, a Person of great frugality and integrity, refused the large Offers of Pyrrhus and the Samnites, whom he overthrew.

Fabritius did the like.

L. Quintus Cincinnatus, chosen Dictator while he was holding the Plough, and having overcome the Æqui, in sixteen days laid down his Office, and returned to his Husbandry.

THE PHENIX:

Out of CLAUDIAN.

Beyond the Indies, and where Eurus Wings
Are spread, by farthest Seas encompass'd, springs
A Grove, which, by Sol's lab'ring Steeds, of all
Is, first, awak'd, and hears the lashes fall,
When the moist borders, with the dewy Coach
Resound. Whence, by her Blush, the Morns approach
Is seen, and, in her flying Mantle, Night
From far grows pale, by the reflected light.
Here, the too happy Phenix lives, alone,
Fenc'd with a matchless Climate, touch'd by none
Of Nature's sickly Race: where ne'r opprest
By those Contagions, that the World infest,
He (like the gods) continues Firm, as are
The Stars, and, with Recruited Limbs, the War
Of Time debells; not us'd, with Cates, the rage
Of Hunger to subdue: or Thirst asswage
In Springs. But, nourish'd by the purer Rayes
O'th'Sun, and harmless Vapors of the Seas,
Lives on that Airy Food. A Secret Light
Flies from his Eyes, about his Face as bright

A Glory shines, and, on his Radiant Head,
The rising Crest a Native Star doth spread:
From whose clear Beams, divided Darkness flies,
As from the Day. Rich Scarlet paints his Thighs,
And his Wings (which Cerulean Flowers enfold)
Out-fly the Winds, above enrich'd with gold.
He, Sire, and Off-spring of Himself, does come
Neither from Seed conceiv'd, nor teeming Womb.
But, by a Fruitful Death, without the Ayd
Of Parents, his Stiff Joynts, with Age decay'd;
(From duty now discharg'd) repairs and flies
To a fresh life, as often, as he dies.
For when his Summers, through a thousand Rings
Have run; with Winters, and as many Springs
And Autumns, that to lab'ring Peasants paid
Their wealthy Shades; at length unweildy made,
To time (by numerous Ages overcome)
He yields. As Pines by Tempests shaken from
The Head of Caucasus, decline, and are
Press'd into Ruin by the Weight they bare.
Some by continued Winds, some by the rage
Of wasting showres, and some by canker'd age.

His sight now waxeth dimme, his aged Beak
Distills faint Isicles about his Neck.
As when the Moon, encompass'd in a Bay
Of Clouds, with dubious Crescents shrinks away.
Those Wings, that through the Clouds were wont to fly.
Trail on the ground. Then knowing he must die,
Framing the Cradle of 's returning Form,
He chuseth driest Simples, from the warm
Adjoyning Hills, and, of that rich Perfume,
Makes both his future Birth-bed and his Tomb:
Where plac'd, (his former Strength and Vigor done)
He first, with Fainter Cries, salutes the Sun:

Then prays, and with a Suppliant Anthem claims
The Blessing of his youth-restoring flames.
Whom, when Sol sees from far, He strait appears
To stop, and thus his Pious Darling chears;
Oh thou, who shak'st off Age upon thy Pile,
And with false Sepulchres dost Fate beguile,
Who, out of thine own Ruins, oft, art born,
And from thy death, as young (as doth the Morn
From Night) returnest, thy Beginning take
Again, and, here, thy wither'd Corps forsake,
And, in thy Figure chang'd, come forth more fair.
This said, shaking his Head, a single Hair
From's yellow Locks, He, sudden, darts, and so
With Vital Lightning strikes the Willing, who
That, thus from death, He may, with speed, return
To life, with Joy, doth voluntary burn.

These Darts from Heav'n the Heap of rich perfume
Soon kindle, and the Aged Bird consume.
The Moon, amaz'd, pulls back her Steeds; the Pole
Ceaseth, the slow Naves of the World to role.
The Pile, thus teeming, Nature (careful Dame)
Least she should lose her Bird, the faithful flame
Removes, that so, th'Immortal Grace of Things
She may restore; when strait warm Vigor springs
Through all the Members, and in every vein
Reviving Blood, begins to flow again.
Then, of it self, the living Dust assumes
Motion, and, the Rude Embers cloaths with Plumes.
He, that, of late, the Father was, the same
Is now the Son, and New succeeds the Flame
The Confines of his double Life, awhile,
Divides. Then strait to hallow, near to Nile,
His Father's Manes, cov'ring o'r with grass,
The Urn, and Parent-Nest, He, swift, doth pass

Into another Clime, and bears it to
The Pharian Land. A vast, un-numbred Crue
Of winged People (wondring as He flies)
Attend, and, in their varied flight, the Skies
Like an huge Army, cloud. Yet, among all
Those many Myriads, none their General
Presume, in flight, to cross, or go before,
But, all the Tract of their bright King adore.
Neither the furious Hawk, nor Bird that bears
The Arms of Jove, dares move, or think on Wars;
And, from their Reverence, Common Peace proceeds.

From Tygris so, the Parthian Captain leads
His barbarous Troops; in Gems, most proudly drest,
A rich Tiara doth his Brows invest;
Gold Reins his Horse; his Purple Robe is wrought
By' Assyrian Needles: and, thus swell'd with thought
Of's high Command, through Tyrian Troops he goes.

There is a City (which all Egypt knows)
Where, in a stately Temple, rais'd upon
An hundred Theban Columns, they the Sun
Adore, with Sacred Rites. Here first (they say)
His Custom is the Parent-Urn to lay.
Then, prostrate to the Image of the god,
Unto the Holy Flame commends his load;
And, on the Altars offers up, instead
Of Incense, his own Reliques, and his Seed:
When strait the Myrrh-annointed Pillars shine,
And holy Altars breath a Fume divine.
The Indian Odor, now it self dilates,
Through all the Pharian Coasts, and penetrates
To the Pelusian Pools, all Egypt's fill'd
With wholsom Air, which, as if Heav'n distill'd
Immortal Nectar through it, all the while,
Perfumes the seven large Mouths of Swarthy Nile.

Oh happy! thine own Heir! that gives to thee
New Life, by which, we all dissolved be!
From thy dead Ashes doth thine Off-spring rise,
And thou secure, thine Age before thee dies.
Whatever was Immortal, thou hast seen,
And, Time calls thee to witness what hath been.
Thou know'st what time, from springing Rocks, the Seas
Their swelling Waters to the Stars did raise:
What year it was wherein the Worlds great Frame
By Phaeton's Error perish'd in a Flame.
No Ruin can thee touch; when Earth shall be
Worn out, thou from Decay, alone, artfree.
'Gainst thee the Fates, nor Law, nor Pow'r can have,
Till the whole World shall be thy Pile and Grave.