Brutus the Trojan :: :: University of Virginia Library

Brutus the Trojan

Founder of the British Empire. An Epic poem. Written by Hildebrand Jacob

Jacob, Hildebrand (1693-1739)

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BRUTUS THE TROJAN;

THE FIRST BOOK OF Brutus the Trojan; &c.

THE SECOND BOOK OF Brutus the Trojan; &c.

THE THIRD BOOK OF Brutus the Trojan; &c.

THE FOURTH BOOK OF Brutus the Trojan; &c.

THE FIFTH BOOK OF Brutus the Trojan; &c.

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BRUTUS THE TROJAN;

Founder of the BRITISH EMPIRE. AN Epic POEM.

Tantæ molis erat condere Gentem!

THE FIRST BOOK OF Brutus the Trojan; &c.

The Argument.

Brutus the Son of Silvius from Æneas the Trojan, sailing with his Followers in Pursuit of the Island, promis'd him by the Goddess Diana, meets with a violent Tempest in the Tyrrhenian Sea. Iris is sent to Æolus, which God, in Obedience to Jupiter's Commands withdraws his Winds from the Ocean, while the Trojans land, where they are join'd by some of the Descendants of those, who accompany'd Antenor in his Flight from Troy, with Corinæus their Chief, who requests Brutus to relate his Adventures from his Banishment out of Latium till his Arrival at that Place, which takes up the Second, and Third Books, including what happen'd before the Overture of the Poem.

I sing the Founder of the British Throne,
Renowned Brutus, of the Race of Troy.
Say, Muse! what Toils he bore, e'er he attain'd
To fix the lasting Seat of Albion's Kings.

Long Time by adverse Winds from Shoar to Shoar
The Trojan Navy driven, now dispers'd,
And scatter'd wide on the Tyrrhenian Sea,
New Storms essay'd. Diana from above,
As in the Council of assembled Gods
She sat, still mindful of the wandring Chief,

Hear'd her lov'd Hero's Vows, and with Concern
Viewing the raging Ocean, to her Sire,
Almighty Jove, the Goddess thus began.

Father of Gods, and Men, whose awful Nod
Makes high Olympus shake! Anchises Son
And brave Antenor, all the Dardan Chiefs
Who fled from Grecian Rage, and Ilion's Flames,
Their Toils, and Dangers past, have now fulfill'd
Their destin'd Courses, while their Houshold Gods
Possess secure Retreats. Brutus alone,
From King Æneas Third, of all the Race
Of Troy now wanders on the angry Deep,
The Sport of Winds, and Waves: Some Heav'nly Pow'r,
Haply, still jealous of the Trojan Fame,
Tho' Troy, tho' Priam's House be now no more,
Detains this Hero from the happy Isle;

Long by the Fates design'd him, from a Throne
Our Oracles confirm, O, can it be,
That Mortals, prone to Evil, in whose Breasts
The Seeds of Wrath, are planted, may by Time,
By Presents, or Submission be appeas'd,
And that celestial Minds no Bounds prescribe
To dire Revenge? She said, on Heav'ns proud Queen
Turning her Eyes. Juno majestic rose,
And, scornful, with a haughty Smile reply'd.

While Ilion the Pride of Asia stood
No greater Foe than I to Priam's Race,
No Deity more injur'd; yet appeas'd,
Here in this sacred Synod I declare,
No longer to oppose the Sons of Troy.
Where e'er the Fates their lasting Seats resolve,
Where e'er their Altars to Saturnia rise,
They'll find the Consort of eternal Jove
Henceforth propitious to their Pray'r, and Vows.

But never let the banish'd Race presume
From Dust their hated City to restore!
While savage Herds on Priam's Tomb shall sport
While raging Oceans from the Phrygian Coast
Divide their new Aboads, they reign secure:
But shou'd again curs'd Ilion's Walls arise,
Again the Trojan Matrons shou'd in Chains
Their fallen Tow'rs, and captive Sons deplore!

She ended with a Frown, and mounting strait
Her golden Car, to Samos bent her Way.
Th' assembled Gods in awful Silence sat
'Till Jove to Dian thus. Offspring belov'd,
Whose threefold Pow'r, and Influence is known
In Heav'n, on Earth, and in the Realms below!
The Evils which the Dardans have sustain'd,
For Troy's Offences surely now attone.
Juno no more resents the fatal Prize;
And wrathful Neptune, of all Saturn's Sons

The hardest to appease, no longer feels
The Treachery of false Laomedon;
Nor any here of these celestial Pow'rs
Who taste our Nectar, and surround our Throne,
E'er sought thy favour'd Brutus to detain
From the blest Isle, thy Oracles proclaim.
That God, on whom the Empire of the Winds
We have bestow'd, this mighty Tempest sends
For Vows forgotten, and neglected Rites,
When late he sail'd from the Trinacrean Shoar.
An Hecatomb to us, a sable Steer
To Neptune fell; to all the Sea-born Race
Due Victims bled: Loud Æolus alone
Amidst th' Immortals found his Altars cold.
Our Son shou'd be appeas'd; but cease to fear
For these thy Trojans! Fate shall be obey'd!

So saying, Iris, swifter than the Wind,
He calls, and thus the sacred Messenger

Of Heav'n bespoke. To Æolus descend!
Let him the Fury of his Winds asswage,
And call them from the Ocean, that the Sons
Of Troy, now erring on the troubled Main,
May safely land on the Tyrrhenian Shoar!

Quick as the Lightning from Jove's dreaded Arm
She gains the Ocean, and resounding Caves
Where Æole with his Deiopeia reigns,
And thus—To thee, who at thy Will provok'st,
Or bind'st the raging Winds, Jove's Words I bear!
Their Fury, God of Tempest, strait asswage,
And call them from the Ocean, that the Sons
Of Troy, now erring on the troubled Main,
May safely land or the Tyrrhenian Shoar!

The God, tho' pale with Ire, at Jove's Commands
Call'd home his Winds, and chain'd each furious Blast.

The Ocean smooth'd, the Trojans now resume
Their wonted Hopes, the Oar with Ardour ply,
And, weary, soon the wish'd-for Land attain.
Here on the Coast a hardy Race they find
Deriv'd of those by bold Antenor led
From flaming Ilion, and Grecian Bonds.
Their Captain Corinæus, daring Chief,
Whom none in Stature, none in Strength excell'd,
Tow'rds Brutus on the crouded Shoar advanc'd,
And strait the Dardan Hero thus address'd.

Leader, whoe'er thou art of Trojan Race,
Who thus in lofty Ships of Greece arriv'st,
Not unexpected, or of Chance thou com'st;
But by the sacred Ministry of Heav'n.
Know, Chief, from bleeding Priam's fated Tow'rs
Our Fathers with Antenor fled; he rais'd
Near angry Adria's Waves his Regal Throne,
Whose narrow Limits now become too small

For her increasing Sons, to us it fell
New Walls to seek, which here the Gods refuse,
The Fates, our holy Prophecies declare,
Have destin'd thee to build (but far from hence)
Another Troy, and everlasting Seat.
Three Thousand Trojans arm'd, inur'd to War,
And Labour in Thrice Twenty Ships I lead.
Permit that under thy auspicious Sway
The wand'ring Sons of Ilion unite,
Thy Gods, thy Laws our own, where'er thou reign'st.

Brutus receives their Homage, and assents;
And now, the Trojans landed, and their Ships
In Order rang'd along the winding Coast,
The Son of Polydoron Brutus calls,
Swift Hyllus, and the Herald thus ordains.

Fly, sacred Messenger, thro'out the Host,
And call before the Ships each warlike Chief,
That all may witness to our plighted Faith!

The Herald strait obeys, and nimbly spreads
The Hero's Orders o'er the spacious Fleet.
First at Polites Vessels he declares
The Will of Brutus; at Evander's next:
Pantheus, and Ripheus, and brave Dymas now,
Receiving the Command, in Haste depart,
With Turonus, whom to the valiant Tros
The fair Latina, Brutus Sister, bore,
Belov'd by Brutus, and more closely join'd
In Friendship than in Blood, from early Youth
The sole Companion of the exil'd Prince.
Mempricius, thro' Age advancing slow,
Supported by his warlike Sons, arriv'd,
And sage Gerion, venerable Seer,
Iphitus, Rhesus, and of Grecian Race
Assaricus, still haughty and reserv'd,
Whom factious Strife, and Discontent at home
To Brutus join'd; suspected yet abroad,
Nor lov'd, nor trusted in the Trojan Host.

All these, and many warlike Leaders more
Th' august Convention form. The solemn League
First sworn before the Chiefs, near Brutus plac'd
In the Assembly Corinæus sat,
And thus the Son of Silvius began.

Ye Dardan Chiefs for whom the Grecian Bonds
At length too weak have prov'd, behold the Day
Which wise Gerion promis'd was at Hand!
Our Numbers are increas'd; so be our Hopes!
For if our Faith this sacred Seer may claim,
Who ne'er to prophecy in vain was found,
Our Wand'rings after this united Force
Shall soon have End, and the long wish'd-for Isle,
Decreed by Fate, Troy's weary Sons receive.

While yet he spoke, the Seer Gerion rose,
And thus. Great Leader of the Trojan Host,
Whom next to Jove we glory to obey!
Much to thy Care is due, to Dian more,

Under whose Auspice, safe, at length, we find
This daring Man, of whom I long foretold.
This Hero, and his hardy Followers
Are given unto us, and we to them:
So have the Gods decreed! Their smaller Force
Well may supply the Losses we've sustain'd,
Our greater Numbers shall their Troops support.
But know, O Brutus, all our Suff'rings past,
Our many Toils by Sea, and Land essay'd,
Have not fulfill'd the Measure of our Woes!
More yet remain in the dark Womb of Time;
Nations unknown, wide Oceans yet unplough'd
By Trojans, or by Greeks, beyond the Bounds
Of great Alcides for our Patience call.
Rough are the Paths of Virtue, Honour, Fame!
Faint not, ye Trojans, in the glorious Race!
When Labour ends, the laurel'd Victor's Crown
Begins to fade. Here Corinæus, warm'd
With martial Ardour at Gerion's Words,
Sprang from his Seat, and thus the Chiefs address'd.

Bred as I am to War, inur'd to Toils,
The Tongue of Corinæus never knew
The Pow'r of Eloquence, and moving Speech.
Great Jupiter distributes unto all
His various Gifts: Courage, and Strength are mine,
And active Feats of Arms. Let Honour call,
I'll follow her tho' to Earth's last Verge!
But 'tis enough! My Deeds shall speak my Praise!
Wherever Danger fronts in this our Course.
There let me turn! I've tarry'd here too long!
A cruel, vile, unhospitable Race
Possess this Coast, the savage Followers
Of King Tyrrhenus from the Lydian Shoar:
Here farther with fell Monsters it abounds,
The Syrens, Lestrigons, and Circe dire;
But there, and far remov'd, o'er Latian Lands
Æneas his Successours reign in Peace,
And rising Glory: So wide Fame relates.

In Peace Æneas his Successours reign!
(Brutus with Sighs reply'd) What then am I?
Is Brute no more of old Anchises Line?
Sever'd, divided, torn in blooming Youth
From the lov'd Branch, where flourishing I grew,
Fate cast me forth, like an unwholsom Weed,
Doom'd by the Gods a wretched Wanderer,
An Exile for Offences, not my own!
Thrice happy they, who in their native Soil
Beneath paternal Shadows rest secure!

More he had utter'd; but a rising Flood
Of filial Grief his fault'ring Tongue delay'd;
When rose divine Mempricius from his Seat,
Hoary with Age, majestically slow,
And fam'd in Council: Long Experience,
And Wisdom drew Attention to his Words;
For unto Mortal Jupiter before
A Race of Time so lasting ne'er bestow'd.

Brutus, he cry'd, we know these Sorrows spring
From pleading Nature, and a nobler Soul;
But now the great Occasion louder calls
For Toils, for Council, and the Frowns of Mars.
By whatsoe'er Afflictions thou art try'd,
The Hand of all disposing Destiny
Hath mark'd them for our good. Monarchs are born
Less for themselves, than those they're doom'd to rule.
Had Silvius thy Sire, been yet alive,
Hadst thou not fled, a guiltless Parricide,
Forc'd by the Anger of a mighty God,
From Latian Alba's Tow'rs to distant Lands,
Beneath those Grecian Chains we still had groan'd,
Which, since Troy fell, we, and our Offspring wore.
But who so hard, to hear of Grecian Chains,
And burning Troy, and yet not mourn her Fall?
These Eyes were Witness to the dreadful Blaze,
And all the Horrors of that bloody Night,
The last of Priam's Reign: The good, old King,

At th' Altar's Side, all welt'ring in his Gore,
By the inexorable Pyrrhus fell,
More cruel than his Sire! O how unlike
That rev'rend Head, when from Achilles Tent
He bore dead Hector home! Troy's sacred Walls,
The Work of Heav'nly Hands, I saw profan'd
With smould'ring Flames, and steaming all with Smoak
From Grecian Brands. O Ilion, alas!
Ill fated Troy! How sternly thou gav'st Way
To Destiny, when Numbers, Fraud, and Flame
To thy Destruction all at once combin'd?
Then dreadful Mars, and the dire Furies rag'd,
Scatt'ring Dismay, and Terror all around!
Then Dymas thy brave Grandsire I beheld
Greatly contending with a Thousand Deaths!
Nor thine, O Pantheus, with less Glory fell,
Encompass'd by his Foes: His mitred Head

Not Phoebus sacred Fillets cou'd defend!
Nor far from these our good Æneas fought,
To whom we owe thee, Brutus, while his Sword
Resistless thro' the Grecians forc'd its Way.
Nor was I unemploy'd, or first subdu'd,
Nor did these Limbs, unprofitable now,
Deserve the Chains they wore, tho' then in Arms
So young, I scarce cou'd to Remembrance bring
What Time from Tenedos we first descry'd
Th' invading Fleet, and for Defence prepar'd.
Forgive, ye Trojans, while your Country's Ills
I thus revive! Ye Dardan Chiefs, forgive,
If with too warm Impatience I expect
Your promis'd Glory! Lasting may it prove!
Again may no offending Paris rise!
A milder Fate attend on future Troy!
But now e'er Thetis watry Bed receives
Descending Phoebus let th' accustom'd Rites
To Jove, and to our Guardian Pow'r be paid!
Tho' here it be not given to abide,

The Gods with Sacrifices may be found,
Where'er we wander: Jove's in ev'ry Place!

He said, and sat, when Brutus thus return'd.
Divine Mempricius! Venerable Eld!
The fainting Dardans of another Troy
Wisely thou dost remind, and of the Rites
We owe to Jove, and to our Guardian Pow'r,
The great Diana, whose protecting Hand,
Whose Influence, so manifest to all,
Has deign'd our daring Enterprize to guide.
Our Sacrifices past, our Host refresh'd,
Let every Leader to his Ships return,
And every Warrior to his wish'd Repose.
While Corinæus with his fresh Supplies
Around our Vessels watch. When Dawn appears,
With joint, and equal Labour we'll refit
Our shatter'd Navy. Here th' Assembly rose.

The Chiefs disperse, and strait to ev'ry Band
His choicest Victims Corinæus sends,
Which from the Tyrrhene Swains in many a Course,
And many an Inroad bold the Hero won.
Of Earth in Haste an Hundred Altars rise
To Dian, and to Jove. The Rites fulfill'd,
The Host, in Order rang'd, Repasts prepare
Of what remains, and due Libations pay
In old Lyæus, from the Vessels brought,
'Till Night her sable Veil began to spread
O'er Nature's Works. Now ev'ry Ship receives
Her weary Troops, while in their lofty Tents
The Chiefs before their Vessels seek Repose.

Now Corinæus on the winding Coast
His wakeful Trojans plac'd; their watchful Fires
Pierce the wide Womb of Darkness: From afar
Tyrrhenian Shepherds on the Mountain Tops
With dire Amazement view the distant Blaze

'Till the Return of Morn; when Brutus rose,
Convenes his Host, and the Day's Toil divides.

Part seek the Woods, and with repeated Blows
Level the lofty Fir, or knotted Oak,
While with new Noise the hollow Vale resounds,
And frighted Dryads from their Haunts retire.
With Echoes loud from the steep Mountain's Side
The falling Groves rush forward on the Plain.
The busy'd Youth below the Branches lop,
And to their Vessels drag th' enormous Trunks.
Some, by Minerva taught, in Haste divide
The massy Timber, and with ready Art
Or Helms, or Ribs repair; some from the Pine
New Masts erect: Each in his Talent toils.

So when, rude Winter past, the prudent Hives
Feel the soft Vernal Breezes, and send forth
Their active Legions, Part the flow'ry Meads,
Still vagrant, range; Part nearer Home receive

The Wand'rers Loads, and to their Store-house bear
The fragrant Thyme; while others, provident,
The labour'd Treasure in its Cells dispose:
Each shares the Task: The Region all around
Rings with their Work, and weary Travellers,
Lull'd by the Sound, sleep in refreshing Shades.

Not less industrious the Trojans toil'd,
And with the setting Sun their Labour ends.

Brutus the while amidst th' assembled Chiefs
At Council in his high Pavillion sat,
Intent on public Cares. The Hero now
Each Leader to a short Repast invites.
The Tables spread, the Portions they divide,
And, sated, with Libations crown the Feast.
The Banquet ended, all in Silence sat,
'Till Corinæus thus the Chief bespoke.

O Brutus, favour'd of the Gods, chose out
From all the Sons of Troy Troy's Sons to free
From Grecian Bondage, and who now dost lead
The wandering Remains of Ilion
To lasting Glory, and secure Retreats!
Say, thro' what Maze, what Labyrinth of Ills
Thou now arriv'st on the Tyrrhenian Coast?
For much by Sea, and Land thou hast endur'd,
Since first, from Latium compell'd by Fate,
Thou wast constrain'd to seek a foreign Land.
The Night's not far advanc'd, and our still Host
Secure within their Vessels taste Repose.

Here Corinæus ceas'd, and fix'd his Eyes
On Brutus, who, reluctant, thus began.

End of the first Book.

A Trojan Prince, who, escaping from the Destruction of his Country, built Padua.

See Horat. Ode 3. Lib. 3.

Æolus.

Sicilian.

See Virg. Æn. Lib. 1.

The Son of Achilles.

The Walls of Troy were said to have been built by Apollo, and Neptune.

THE SECOND BOOK OF Brutus the Trojan; &c.

The Argument.

Brutus relates the Occasion of his Banishment from Alba in Latium, and after what Manner he was expiated by King Nicostron at Pallenteum; his Wandrings from thence into Illyrium, Thrace, and Phrygia; how, passing into Greece, he deliver'd the captive Race of Trojans, and left that Country with them; what Obstacles hinder'd their intended Settlement on the Coast of Africa; the Oracle of Diana in the Island of Leogecia; their Dangers afterwards from the Libyan Syrtes, and Carthaginian Navy; their Arrival amongst the Lotophagi; their sailing from thence within Sight of Eryx, a Promontory in Sicily; their Resolution thereupon to visit the Tomb of Anchises, and how their Ships were then driven back by a violent Tempest.

After a strange Variety of Ills
Æneas with our Houshold Gods arrives
In Latium, where old Latinus reign'd,
Good, hospitable King. Turnus subdu'd,
Lavinia became the Hero's Prize;
But to her Realms Ascanius succeeds,
To him my Sire, great Silvius, whose Race
In Alba reigns. But why should I recount
What is already known? O why renew
The Story of my Woes? The Sons of Troy,

Howe'er dispers'd, have hear'd how Brutus fled,
Forc'd by the Wrath of an incensed God
To leave fair Alba, and her new rais'd Tow'rs;
They've hear'd how great Apollo in the Chace
One Day to punish, and revenge my Vaunts
Directed to a much lov'd Parent's Breast
The deadly Shaft I level'd at the Herd;
They've hear'd how oft I boasted in the Field,
Rash Youth, and vain! With Phoebus self to try
Th' unerring Arrow, and the bearded Dart;
For whether in the Plain, or Forest Shade
Beyond the rest Diana blest my Toils:
But let not mortal Man with Heav'n contend!

Thus driven by the Furies, and my Fate,
From Realm to Realm a Wanderer I fled:
The dire Eumenides, Avengers sure,
Daughters of Acheron, and sable Night,
With horrid Pains my guilty Steps pursue;

Nor ceas'd the snaky Scourge, and flaming Brand,
'Till Expiation due their Wrath appeas'd.
To Pallanteum, by long Torments worn,
Whose Tow'rs Evander rais'd, an Exile sad
Weary I came, where then Nicostron reign'd.
Strait to the Regal Courts I made my Way,
And pale, and desperate in Silence past,
Unstop'd, unquestion'd, to the very Hearth,
And Houshold Gods near which the Monarch sat.
The ancient Hero, wond'ring at my Mien,
And strange Deportment, in these Words began.

Say whence thou art, and how thou hast escap'd
Those watchful Eyes, that guard our Royal Seat?
Speak! For thou seem'st like one from Orcus stole,
Yet recent from thy Pains. Trembling, I cry'd.

O great Nicostron, from Evander sprung,
Evander, who to good Æneas swore

And all his Race eternal Amity,
The hapless Son of Silvius behold.

The Monarch started, shuddering to find
A horrid Parricide within his Walls,
Then, rising from the Throne, where he was plac'd,
With soft Persuasion, and moving Words
Strove to seduce me forth; but still in vain.

While I ------ by Jove, whose Altar I embrace,
Revenger of the injur'd Suppliant,
O King, I vow before thy sacred Hearth,
Before these Houshold Deities to dye,
Rather than thus depart! A Suppliant,
An humble, prostrate Suppliant I sue
My Expiation from thy royal Hand.
Let not the Offspring of Ascanius,
Ascanius, who once Nicostron lov'd,
For Mercy from Nicostron beg in vain!
Evander, and Æneas well thou know'st

In Love, and Hospitality were bound:
Third from Æneas I Protection claim.

Doubtful awhile the aged Monarch stood,
Still leaning on his Scepter, 'till, at length,
Remembering the good Evander's Fate,
And old Alliance sworn, thus Silence broke.

O Brutus, whom the angry Gods chastise,
Their Wrath is not immortal as their State!
If with Lustrations, and Sacrifice
Thy Crime may be purg'd out, receive my Aid!

So saying, for the Off'ring he commands
A sable Ewe be brought: Th' Aspersions made,
To the Infernal Pow'rs the Victim fell,
And while in the warm Blood my Hands were stain'd,
With Pray'r the dreadful Furies he appeas'd.

The Ceremony past, the good, old King,
Slow-moving, to the Palace Gates led on,
And thus began. Brutus, in Peace depart!
Thou hast obtain'd, what I could not refuse.
Hence, and be seen no longer in my Realms!
Far from Nicostron may'st thou find Repose!

He said; I turn'd, weeping a Flood of Tears,
And onward bent, irresolute, my Course.

Resolv'd, at length, Hesperia to forsake,
Th' Illyrians my early Valour knew,
When twice I conquer'd their invading Foes.
To Thrace, with cold Hæmean Mountains bound,
I next resort; but soon from Thrace retire,
Polydor's Fate, and Polymnestor's Crime
With sad Remembrance agitate my Soul.
To Asia I pass, and view those Plains

Where Simois with the Scamander flows,
Once the dread Scene of fierce, contending Hosts.
The Phrygian Swains along the silent Shoar
Fed their tame Flocks in Peace, and sung the Tale
Of Troy, and Helen to their rural Pipes,
Troy, which appear'd no more, nor that fam'd Wall,
Once Bulwark of the Greeks, by Hector forc'd!
No Footsteps left of proud Achilles Rage!
No Marks of dire Ulysses! Some few Tombs
Sole Testimonies of past Deeds remain'd:
The Plough had equal'd all. But 'tis too much!
Dry, Trojan Captains, dry your gen'rous Tears!
To raise a greater Troy be now our Care!

To Greece (and surely guided by the Gods
To Greece I came) to Greece I made my Way.
O Corinæus, think, think how a Heart,
To gen'rous Freedom born, must bleed to find
In the same Chains their hapless Fathers wore

A sad Posterity of Trojan Youth,
Scourg'd, and insulted by their haughty Lords!
O think what I endur'd! Fir'd by their Groans,
I whisper'd Comfort to each wretched Man,
And nobler Thoughts of Liberty inspir'd.
Heav'n blest my Zeal! One well concerted Day
The high-task'd Trojans thro' extended Greece,
Achaia, Thessaly, and all the Isles,
From where vast Athos shades the Region round,
To the Malean Promontory, known,
And fear'd by Mariners, bravely at once
Cast off their Bonds, and to the Woods resort,
Wish'd Freedom, and Protection to receive
From Brutus, and elect me for their Chief.

At Deeds so bold the irritated Foe,
Bent on dire Vengeance, from each Part of Greece
In hostile Arms, as once before Troy's Tow'rs,

Beset the Forrest, and Larissa's Plain
Where by Peneus shady Banks we lay,
Expecting Death, or Liberty, resolv'd
To die, or conquer, desperately brave.

Like Lyons confident of Prey, secure,
The Greeks exult, and in proud Mock'ry shake
Their Whips, and rattling Chains, vaunting aloud
Their Number, and their Strength. Our Armies Shock:
Th' Assertors of fair Liberty succeed.
Some Chiefs, who boldly stood, inslav'd remain
Fetter'd in their own Bonds. The Herd disperse:
Each sought his Home. When strait, all Greece, alarm'd,
To their triumphant Vassals profer Truce,
Ships well appointed, Arms, Provision, Gold,
Whate'er might win us, to remove our Force,
Where else the Fates should call. Pleas'd we accept

Their Amity constrain'd, and sail from Greece
In Quest of some more hospitable Coast.

The fair Ignoge to my longing Arms
With Tears her captive Sire Pandrassus gave
A blooming Bride, the Price of Liberty.
Thrice happy had the Gods confirm'd our Vows!
But oh! too soft to share a Wand'rers Fate,
And still regretting with unweary'd Grief
The Grecian Manners, and her Father's Courts,
Early on Afric's Shoar she yields to Fate!

With twice Two Hundred Vessels we o'erspread
Th' Ægean Ocean: Eurus rules our Way.
On the Third Light the fam'd Dictæan Rocks,
And Cretan Ida, ever crown'd with Snow,
Joyful we pass, and plough Ionian Waves.
Now hated Greece still lessens to our Sight,
And now Zacynthos from the lofty Stern

Hardly the ravish'd Mariner descries.

Thus blest, the new-deliver'd Trojans sail;
But to what destin'd Seat was next our Care:
When strait from towards Thrace a threat'ning Blast,
Tempestuous rising, clouds the Welkin round.
Sad Night succeeds, and not one friendly Star
Informs the doubtful Pilot. Long dispers'd,
We err, uncertain, on the angry Deep:
At length, united, upon Afric's Coast
Our Sea-wrought Troops descend. No long Repose
Upon the Libyan Shoar the Trojans found
Getulia's Prince from fierce Iarbas sprung
And Carthage, mindful still of Dido's Fate,
On King Æneas Race, and Troy's Remains
Eternal Vengeance vow. The Coast around
Glitters with threat'ning Foes. Amidst Alarms
Ignoge's Fate our nuptial Bands dissolves.

Too soon on the unhospitable Sands
In Haste her Tomb I raise. Our Ships we gain,
And leaving a new Troy's unfinish'd Tow'rs,
And Dian's Fane, began with Omens dire,
Towards Trinacria turn their brazen Prows.

The Rowers lash the Main: The Land behind
Seems to retire in Haste, and soon our Eyes
Vast, liquid Plains cærulean behold,
Curl'd by the gentle Breath of Auster mild.
Our Sails lightly inspir'd, an even Course
All Day we held, and now the spangled Sky
Smil'd on us, and each Star propitious shone,
While sweet Melorus to his tuneful Lyre
In many a Phrygian Strain divinely sung
Old Tales of Troy, and Priam's golden Reign
Long before Helen's Days: The pleasing Sounds
Lighten the Rowers Toil. But now still Night
Was far advanc'd, declining Planets shed

On all their drowsy Influence. When, lo!
Philastron, prudent Pilot, who with Skill
Can read each Constellation, knows to shun
Ingulfing Quicksands, and dire, latent Rocks,
Calls from the Helm. Dardanians! By my Art,
And Observations sure I well presage
Some Coast at Hand! Each Trojan quit his Oar,
And with your half-furl'd Canvas wait the Morn!

Nor err'd his Art; For scarce Aurora blush'd,
When at our Navy's Head a desert Isle,
Hight Leogecia, to Tyre subdu'd,
By Pirates wasted since, its Port presents.
Twice Twenty Trojan Youths, expert in Arms,
Whether for Ambush close, or quick Retreat,
Are chosen from our Host, the Land t' explore,
Young Iphitus, and Rhesus at their Head,
Twin Brothers, Offspring of Orontes bold,

Who dy'd in Grecian Chains, sagacious both
With Eyes like Lynceus to ken from far,
To trace out doubtful Ways, or safely pierce
Thro' pathless Woods, and on their Steps retire.
E'er Noontide loaded to the Ships they bear
What Mountain Deer their Arrows had brought down;
But none of human Race they had discern'd,
'Till in a Vale remote, amidst high Groves,
Conducted by an Altar's rising Fumes,
Diana's Priests at Sacrifice they found
Before an antient Temple, where the Pow'r
Her Oracle had plac'd. This when I hear'd,
The Chiefs I strait convene, and 'twas resolv'd
With Pray'r, and Off'rings to approach the Fane
Of our Protectress, there our Fate to learn,
And in what Realm to fix our Houshold Gods.

With sage Gerion, and Twelve hoary Eld
In Order to the Temple we advance,

And solemn March, our Heads with Garlands crown'd.
There to Diana, Mercury, and Jove
Three Altars we erect, sweet Incense burn,
Our Sacrifices, and due Rites perform,
When in these Words the Goddess I address.

Huntress divine! Dread of the Forrest Herds!
Who thro' the spacious Heaven tak'st thy Way,
And haunt'st the Realms below! Our Doubts resolve?
Say, where our Houshold Gods may rest secure?
Say, where thy sacred Altars safe shall rise,
And Virgin Choirs for ever sing thy Praise?

This thrice Three Times devoutly I repeat,
And Four around the Altar slowly move,
Pouring Libations on th' expiring Flame.
These ended, on the Victims Skins I sleep
Within the Temple: So the Priests ordain'd.
When in the Night's last Watch the Goddess self
Inspir'd my Dreams, and thus our Fate unfolds.

Brutus, beyond th' Hesperian Realms of Gaul,
Amidst the Waves, an Isle thy Trojans waits!
Thither repair! There shall a lasting Troy
For thee, and thy great Race eternal stand!
Victorious Monarchs from thy Line shall spring,
And o'er the boundless Ocean spread their Sway!

Pleas'd with our Fate, the lofty Ships we climb,
And tow'rds th' Atlantic Ocean bend our Course.
Still Leogecia we held in View,
When Jove from the Hesperian Point of Heav'n
Sent forth an adverse Wind, against whose Rage
In vain our Oars contend: The Prows we turn,
And to the driving Waves, reluctant, yield.
Three tedious Days, as many dreary Nights,
Forc'd by strong Western Blasts, we're born away,
Helpless, and anxious, thro' the pathless Deep.
On the Fourth Dawn aloud Philastron cries,

Far on the Right some Lybian Cape I view,
And by my Skill th' expiring Storm foretel.
Trojans, your Oars resume! Scarce had he spoke,
When the relenting Winds in milder Notes
And hollow Murmurs hasten to retire,
The Clouds disperse, and we approach the Shoar,
While sudden in the Pilot's Face we read
Horror, and ghastly Fear. All pale he knew
The Syrtes, infamous on Afric's Coast;
For thither with the Greeks a Captive chain'd,
And fetter'd to their Oars he oft had stray'd.

Now hardly by his Skill we had escap'd
The treach'rous Shelves, and Shoals, when Dangers new
Nor less tremendous open to our Sight.
A rival Fleet behold from Carthage arm'd,
And all that Coast from whence we late retir'd
To the same Gulf by the same Blasts convey'd,

Prepares for Combat! With Defiance bold,
And Bulk enormous rushing on their Foes.
The Africans in Naval War expert,
Surround our Vessels, and with brazen Beaks
Drive on the latent Sands our lighter Ships.
Some Trojans perish; nor escap'd our Rage
Th' insulting Libyan: Three lofty Masts
We bury'd low, and under Night withdrew:
A safe Retreat to Conquest is ally'd.
Jove, and the Virgin Goddess hear'd our Vows!

To Menynx, mourning our lost Friends, we came,
To Menynx, for its pleasing Lotos fam'd,
Which tasted once, the ravish'd Traveller
Forgets his Country Gods, nor seeks Return.
This once Ulysses sound. The fatal Fruit
Cautious we shun: Of all our num'rous Host
Two only fail. In Haste the Isle we leave,

And soon Sicania's fruitful Hills appear.

E'er long we sail'd, proud Eryx to our Eyes
With Joy was by the skillful Pilot shown.

Behold, Philastron cry'd, ye Sons of Troy!
Not far from yonder Promontory stand
Acesta's Walls, and old Anchises Tomb.

Thither we strait resolve our Ships to guide,
And pay just Honours to the Hero's Shade.
In vain! For now the rising Winds forbid
Our pious Labour, Zephyr rends our Sails,
And the rude Waves divide us from our Hopes.

End of the second Book.

The capital City of Latium, built by Ascanius Son of Æneas.

The Furies.

See Virg. Æn. Lib. 8.

Evander, slaying his Father by Chance, forsook his Country Arcadia, and came into Italy.

Italy.

See Virg. Æn. Lib. 3.

Rivers near Troy.

See Hom. Iliad. Lib. 12.

Countries of Greece.

A Mountain of Macedon.

A dangerous Cape of [OMITTED]

A City of Thessaly.

A River of the same Country.

The East Wind.

Mountains in the Island of Crete.

An Island in the Ionian Sea.

From the North.

African.

See Virg. Æn. Lib. 4.

Sicily

Southern Wind.

This Name is not found in Geography; but may be suppos'd Lampedosa, Limosa, Semeto, or some other of the Islands between the Kingdom of Tunis in Africa, and Sicily.

One of the Argonauts, famous for Quickness of Sight.

Western.

An Isle of Africa near the Continent, over against Sicily. See Hom. Odyss. Lib. 9.

Sicily.

A Sicilian Mountain.

A City of the same Island, built by Æneas in Honour of Acestes, who entertain'd him hospitably in his Travels: His Father Anchises was bury'd near it.

The West Wind.

THE THIRD BOOK OF Brutus the Trojan; &c.

The Argument.

Brutus continues to relate how his Navy was scatter'd upon the Coast of Greece, particularly on that of Ithaca; the Reception the Trojans met there from the young King Laertes, the accidental Death of Aretes, a Phæacian Prince, by Turonus, and how they were constrain'd afterwards to land at Ogygia, the Island of Calypso, with their Adventures there, and the Manner of their Deliverance from thence. Their sailing along the Coast of Sicily is describ'd, 'till their Arrival at Drepanum, where they pay their Devotion at the Tomb of Anchises, and renew the Games which Æneas formerly solemniz'd at that Place. He recounts their Departure from Sicily, accompany'd by some of the Race of that Colony of Trojans, which Æneas once planted at Acesta, and how they were driven by Storms towards the Tyrrhenian Shoar, where they arrive. Here Brutus's Narration ends, and the Chiefs retire.

Long the wide Deep, uncertain, we sustain,
The Sport of Elements. At length, the Coast
Of Greece once more presented to our View,
On Ithaca we drive, and in Despair
Its barren Rocks embrace. What Hope remain'd,
Our Force divided, and our Ships dispers'd,
For wandring Trojans from Ulysses Race,
Had not the great Diana from above
Beheld our Labours, and the tender Heart
Of young Laertes open'd to our Woes?

For thus Arcesius, the valiant Son
Of fam'd Telemachus, long e'er his Death,
Had styl'd the infant Honour of his Throne.

The gen'rous Prince, tho' sprung from Troy's great Foe,
Protects our Navy, and, admiring, prais'd
The Valour of our Men, and Freedom gain'd
Against all Greece united. Oft he ask'd
The Story of asserted Liberty,
And much of Ilion, and Arms would talk,
Ulysses, and his Feats in War, his Wiles,
The stol'n Palladium, and Rhesus slain.
The Hero's late Return he oft wou'd tell,
And tedious Toils; of fair Penelope,
Her Web, her Suitors, and her kind Delays;
And pointed out where once Eumæus dwelt,
And where good old Laertes once retir'd.

By Tempest, or unhospitable Greeks
Full Fifty of our Sea-beat Ships destroy'd,
Far more impair'd, our Vessels we restore
Woody Zacynthos gave her solid Oaks,
And Ithaca with Mountain Fir supplies.
But now in stormy Show'rs Orion rose,
And Boreas had ruffled all the Sea,
When King Laertes thus his Guests bespoke.

While Winter frowns, forbear to tempt the Waves,
Brave Sons of Troy! In Ithaca I reign,
And o'er these neighb'ring Isles: Chose out Aboads,
Or fat Dulichium, rich in lowing Herds,
Or this our spacious Port, from Winds secure!
Our tender Kids, and fleecy Train shall bleed,
And Gnosian Wine, long since from Crete convey'd;
Will chace the rigid Season's Cold away.

To Winter, and Laertes Words we yield,
And in the Courts of Ithaca's young King,
With Sport, and Martial Games our Time beguile.
The Trojan Youth, on future Wars intent,
Feign Naval Fights, and in the Haven form
Their Ships, and manly Limbs for Toils to come.

Aretes, from Phæacian Monarchs sprung,
And forc'd, by an usurping Tyrant's Rage,
From the Possession of his Father's Throne,
With young Laertes sure Protection found;
For well he knew, how good Alcinous
Whilom convey'd the sage Ulysses home,
With Royal Presents fraught. For Naval Arts,
And Feats of Strength Aretes, far renown'd,
Disdain'd, and conquer'd all the Trojan Youth,
'Till Turonus the vaunting Prince o'ercame,
And with his Cæstus arm'd, O dire Mischance!

In the rude Sport, all breathless on the Strand
The haughty Grecian laid. His Grief, and Tears
His Innocence, and deep Repentance prove,
And soon the sad Laertes Wrath appease.

And now the infant Spring was scarce renew'd,
When strait, impatient for the promis'd Land,
Our solemn Vows of Friendship, and our Gifts,
Firm Signs of Hospitality, and Love
To all succeeding Ages, we exchange.
The Sword I gave, which haughty Turnus slew,
A Lycian Bow, and two Thessalian Spears;
Laertes, in Return, an antient Shield
Of Trojan Cast, and won at Ilion,
Which Nestor on Telemachus bestow'd,
When he at Pylos saw the Spartan King,
And sought his wand'ring Sire. The eastern Breeze
Now wantons in our Sails: Our Ships depart,
And Ithaca with grateful Minds we leave.

All Day their Oars, and Sails the Trojans ply,
All Night by Turns they labour on the Main,
By rolling Waves, and happy Gales convey'd.

Scarce the first Watch of solemn Night was o'er,
Nor yet the rising Planets had perform'd
Full half their Courses thro' the azure Way,
When suddenly the fault'ring Winds expire,
And on our Masts the useless Canvas fell.
All now was hush'd, and calm: Our Vessels move,
Born by a silent Current, nor prevail'd
The Rowers Labour, or Philastron's Skill.
On the smooth Tide we sail, we know not where,
Nor by what secret Pow'r. At length, surpriz'd,
With sweet inchanting Notes our Ears are charm'd
Of warbling Birds, and strait the Dawn reveals
Each vernal Beauty to our wond'ring Eyes,
The flow'ry Valley, and the swelling Stream;
While all the Fragrance of the new-born Year

Salutes the ravish'd Sense. A pleasing Port,
Secure from ev'ry Tempest that might rise,
Our Navy, by this hidden Force impuls'd,
Unguided meets: Its verdant Banks are crown'd
With fair, and blooming Nymphs, who gayly smil'd,
And in the Midst, like Dian in her Train,
The Goddess of the Isle Calypso shone,
Of old Oceanus, and Thetis born.

Dardanian Chief, she cry'd (for much she knew
Of past, and future Things) renowned Brute,
Sprung from Æneas, and decreed by Fate
To build amidst the Waves a lasting Throne,
Here let thy weary Trojans rest awhile!
Alcides Toils were blended with Delight,
And wand'ring Theseus found a Time for Joy.

She said, when from the Groves, and winding Shoar

Celestial Music rose; the murm'ring Surge,
Resounding low, with deep, and hollow Base
The Harmony sustains: Nor ceas'd it long,
When strait amidst her Nymphs a tuneful Quire
Melodious Strains of Love, and Pleasure sung,
Moving in wanton Measures to their Notes.
Who cou'd resist Immortals arm'd from Love,
And taught by Cytheria to invite?
The Trojans leave their Ships; I follow sad,
Like some fond Shepherd, who beholds from far
His helpless Flock in the Invader's Hands,
And thus the soft Divinity address.

O Deity! For less thou canst not be
Than that immortal Pow'r, whose sacred Seats
The wandering Ulysses whilom knew,
Say, by what Ministry, what latent Charms
Troy's warlike Sons, the great Diana's Care,
Intent upon their Course, and promis'd Land,

Were thus constrain'd, when neither Winds, or Waves
Oppos'd their destin'd Way? To these my Words
With Smiles the flatt'ring Goddess thus reply'd.

Blest Son of Silvius, whose Feats in Arms
By Fame beyond the Clouds have been convey'd!
To us great Dian's Pleasure is not hid,
Who still in high Olympus, near the Throne
Of her all potent Sire, thy Cause maintains,
O fear not for thy Trojans, nor conceive
Thoughts of Restraint! While these Aboads they chuse,
Here may thy stately Ships in Safety ride.
With blew-ey'd Thetis 'midst the rolling Floods
In Crystal Bow'rs below my Father reigns:
For thee, O Brutus, at his Daughter's Pray'r
Shall old Oceanus his Waters drive,
Propitious to thy Will. Anchises Tomb
We know thou aim'st at, and Acesta's Tow'rs;

Nor wide from our Ogygia are they found.
Receive what Hospitality requires,
Then shall thy Sails with vernal Breezes heave,
And gently waft thee to Sicania's Coast.

So saying, onward tow'rds her Grot she led,
Her Grot, where Art with Nature strove to please,
A Place so charming, that celestial Eyes
With Wonder might behold it from above.
But there (O frail Desires of mortal Man!
O impotent Attempts of human Force!)
Nor vernal Breezes, nor Sicania's Coast,
Acesta's Tow'rs, or old Anchises Tomb
Were more remember'd! Sunk in fond Delights
The Trojans sleep. O Shame to nobler Souls,
Charg'd with the Weight of Rule, and Fate's Decrees!

Vain were my Pray'rs, Calypso's Threats were vain,
Her profer'd Immortality, and Love.
Along the Margin of the briny Deep
To Heav'n I daily made my useless Moan.
At length Diana hears, and soon our Host
Was thus from more than Grecian Bondage freed.

The Summer wasts, and now autumnal Leaves
With Fruits of vary'd Colour stain the Ground,
When thus Calypso. Brutus, thou dost well,
Proud Mortal, to consume thy number'd Years
In needless, fond Complaints! Night's triple Queen
Chaste Dian hears thee not, or else withdraws
Her mighty Aid; or, haply, 'midst the Gods,
Unmindful of the Earth, and human Fate,
Remote with the swarth Æthiop she feasts;
Or, on the Chace intent, the Boar pursues

Thro' Ida's Forrest, or Bœotian Vales.
We too our Mountain Herds, and Woods can boast,
And thou may'st vaunt thy Prowess on our Plains!

Thus with a taunting Smile the Goddess spoke,
And for the Chace prepares. Her Nymphs, attir'd
Like Amazons, to the wild Silvan Race
Dire War declare, while Hills, and Lawns resound.
All Day we toil, and press the foaming Prey,
And now descending Phoebus in the Waves
Buries his Glories; but Calypso still,
Bent on the panting Boar, with eager Sport
The savage Monster to the Shade pursues,
While I, bewilder'd in the Thicket's Maze,
Uncertain err, when near the Forrest Side
A Dryade I beheld (for so she seem'd)
Tho' sure of Dian's Train, or Dian's self,
Who thus—O Brutus save a burning Fleet!
Hence with thy Ships, or ever here remain!

No more the Nymph, but vanish'd into Air,
While, guided by the Blaze of distant Flames,
I seek the treach'rous Shoar. Some Trojan Youths,
Madly by Bacchanalian Rage inspir'd,
Unwilling e'en to hope our wish'd Retreat,
Their lighted Torches to our Ships oppose.
Two of our Vessels were destroy'd; a Third
Consuming in its Ashes I behold;
The Fourth with Pain I save, and plunge this Sword
Deep in the Leader's Heart! The Traytor slain,
The Rest, beholding Brutus, drop their Fire,
And soon disperse. The Trojans I convene
Strait in the crouded Haven, and with those
Not wholly lost to Manhood, and Remorse,
Sudden, and favour'd by the Winds depart.

Along the Coast by Eurus Breath convey'd,
And guided on our Way by Phoebe's Rays,

All Night our Vessels plough th' Ausonian Deep.
The early Dawn discovers from afar
Vast Ætna's Flames, and ever-steaming Crown,
And soon we hear the hoarse Carybdis roar.
And now Trinacrian Mountains from our Ships
Yet nearer we survey, and on the Cliffs
Amidst their Flocks th' enormous Cyclops ken;
Safe only that wise Neptune had deny'd
The wat'ry Realms to these his monstrous Sons.
Dian the dread Protectress of the Shoar,
Dian in sacred Hymns we here invoke:
Melorus lent his Voice, and tuneful Lyre.
Sicania's Rocks great Dian's Name resound!
Dian these proud Contemners of the Gods
With Scorn repeat, and boast their Threat'nings vain.

Pachynus, far extended in the Waves,
We pass, and lofty Agragas survey.
At length, the Lilybæan Rocks with Care,
Wide circling in our Course, Philastron shuns.
Next Erycina Temple from on High
Amidst impending Groves of Myrtle shone;
And now our Ships curv'd Drepanum surrounds.

Here Acestiades before the Fane,
And Altars of triumphant Mars we found.
An Hecatomb the pious Prince had paid
For Conquests won, and late Success in Arms.
The sacred Incense yet perfum'd the Air,
And on th' expiring Embers now they pour
Libations due. The holy Rites perform'd,
Our Names, our Country with the Trojan Cause,
And our religious Purpose we declare.

The King with Pleasure hear'd the Dardan Name,
And ratify'd the Friendship whilom sworn
'Twixt good Acestes, and Anchises Son.

In solemn Order to the Hero's Tomb
The Trojan Chiefs, a goodly Train, I lead;
Nor ought, O Pantheus, didst thou leave untry'd
Our Sires have ever known, or Priests have taught,
To move the awful Shade, our Arms to bless,
And watch, propitious, o'er our destin'd Course.

Mean while the Games, Æneas once ordain'd
At great Anchises Tomb we now renew,
And Prizes to the Conquerours award.
To Calamis, and Memnon were adjudg'd
A loaded Quiver, and a new-strung Bow,
Rivals in Fame, alike their Arrows rose,
And equal Both the destin'd Mark attain.
Hyllus with Ease old Dymas in the Race

O'ercame, and for the Victor's Prize receiv'd
A purple Vest, which once Laertes wore.
Cloanthes, Rhesus, Helenus contend
In Naval Skill. Cloanthes first arriv'd,
Next Helenus; the Oar from Rhesus fell,
Yet foremost of the Three contending Chiefs,
And soon he mourn'd behind the distant Port.
A brazen Tripod, that endures the Flames,
Cloanthes bore away. A bearded Spear
By Helenus was claim'd. But none so bold
Of all the Trojan, or Sicilian Youth
Brave Turonus to meet, who cast aloft
His Cæstus in the Air, and seiz'd the Prize,
A crested Helmet, and a massy Shield.

With Acestiades our Host remains
'Till the returning Season calm'd the Sea;
And now, our Sails expanded to depart,
Two Hundred of Acesta chosen Youth
Embrace our Ships, and long to share our Toils.

I yield: Good Acestiades assents,
And strait throughout the Navy I divide
The daring Offspring of those weary Troops
Æneas left behind him when he rais'd
Acesta's Walls, and sought the Latian Shoar.

Still within Ken of Eryx we essay'd
Far ruder Storms, than yet our Ships had prov'd,
And sure no less than some avenging God
Drove on the furious Blast, and foaming Wave.
For ne'er did human Race before survive
Such wild Combustion on the roaring Main.
Speechless, amaz'd the pale Philastron stood
Before his useless Helm. To Jove we pray,
To great Diana, and the Sea-born Pow'rs,
In vain! The raging Winds disperse our Vows.
Tost by contending Storms, our weaker Ships
O'erwhelm, inclos'd by the devouring Deep;
Till suddenly the mighty Tempest ceas'd,

And here the fainting Trojans found Repose.

Thus Brutus ended. Corinæus prais'd
The patient Hero, and each gen'rous Deed
His daring Soul with Thirst of Glory fill'd.
Th' august Assembly rose: The Leaders seek
Their lofty Ships, impatient for the Morn.
The swelling Surge now seem'd to lash the Shoar,
Resenting still the dreadful Tempest past,
And the Watch-Fires of Night, scarce half consum'd,
Guide the returning Chiefs along the Coast.

End of the third Book.

An Island in the Ionian Sea, of which Ulysses was Lord.

A Descendant of Ulysses.

A famous Image of Pallas, on which it being known that the Safety of Troy depended, it was stolen away by Ulysses, and Diomedes.

A King of Thrace, slain before Troy by Ulysses. See Hom. Iliad. Lib. 10.

See Hom. Odyss.

A Constellation, whose rising, and setting is attended by Rain, and Storms.

The North Wind.

A small Island near Ithaca.

Descendant of Alcinous.

See Hom. Odyss. Lib. 13.

See Virg. Æn. Lib. 12.

See Hom. Odyss. Lib. 3.

The Island of Ogygia, in the Ausonian Sea, near the Calabrian Shoar.

Venus.

This her Island.

Sicily.

See Hom. Iliad. Lib. 1.

Eastern Wind.

A famous burning Mountain in Sicily.

A dangerous Gulph of the Sicilian Sea. See Hom. Odyss. Lib. 12.

Sicilian.

Giants. The Sons of Neptune, and Amphitrite, inhabiting Sicily.

See Virg. Æn. Lib. 3.

Sicilian.

See Hom. Odyss. Lib. 9.

See Virg. Æn. Lib. 3.

The Temple of Venus on Mount Eryx in Sicily, from whence she had the Name of Erycina.

See Virg. Æn. Lib. 3.

Descendant of Acestes, who received Æneas kindly in his Wanderings.

See Virg. Æn. Lib. 5.

A Sicilian Promontory.

THE FOURTH BOOK OF Brutus the Trojan; &c.

The Argument.

While the Trojans repose, Diana visits the Mansion of Somnus, and procures of that Divinity to charm the Cares of Brutus. Towards the Close of Night the Goddess appears to him in a Dream, assures him of a prosperous Voyage, and commands him to appease the Resentment of Æolus before his Departure. An Account of their Course thro' the Mediterranean Sea, and of their Passage by the Pillars of Hercules into the Atlantic Ocean. They take Refuge at Tartessos, where they find a Settlement from Tyre. The Treachery of Amilcar, Head of the Colony. Mercury confers with Diana concerning the future Fate of Brutus, whom he promises to protect: Accordingly, he intimidates the Council of the Phœnicians under the Form of Narbal, and the Trojans continue their Expedition. A Relation of their Proceeding along the Western Coast, 'till they enter the Cantabrian Gulf, where they are detain'd by a tedious Calm, which alarms the God Neptune, who is also incens'd to see the Trojans venture without his Consent on the Great Ocean, and calls back the Winds to his Aid, while Brutus's Ships are forc'd on the Pictavian Shoar in Gaul.

With Toils o'ercome the Host supinely rests,
Brutus alone, on future Cares intent,
To close his weary Eyes attempts in vain.
Diana, Guardian Pow'r, with Pity views
Her anxious Hero, longing for Repose,
And strait to Somnus silent Realm descends.

Deep in a darksom Cave near Lethe's Flood
The Son of Erebus, and Night she found,
His Head with Wreaths of drowsy Flow'rs adorn'd.

O healing Pow'r, to whom all Nature yields,
Gently she cry'd, thy sable Curtain heave,
Awhile suspend thy Sloath, and hear my Voice!
In his high Tent upon the Tyrrhene Coast
Brutus thy pleasing Influence implores.

She said, when strait to the celestial Sound
He turn'd, the Poppies on his Temples nod,
And thus he cry'd. Great Hecate be obey'd!
And sunk in Down. Soon Brutus felt his Aid,
And in soft Sleep forgot the Toils of State.

And now, Night's latest Vigil near consum'd,
In Dreams the Goddess o'er his Head appear'd,
And thus her high Behests conveys. Awake,
O Brutus, soon auspicious Gales shall wait
Thy spreading Sails! But e'er thou leav'st the Shoar,
An Hecatomb must bleed! Fierce Æole's Wrath,

The God of Winds, appease! The Hero rose,
And, conscious of neglected Rites, obeys.

Mean while Aurora Titan's Bed forsook,
And drove the dusky Shades of Night away,
When from their Ships the busy Trojans croud,
And with repeated Echoes fill the Coast.
The Sacrifices duely first perform'd,
Eager they labour at their destin'd Course:
Dry Land no more the moving Fleet contains.
Three Thousand Trojans in Thrice Twenty Ships
To Brutus Forces Corinæus joins,
And now Three Hundred Vessels, proudly arm'd,
Upon the Tyrrhene Waves triumphant ride.

By Dian led, and urg'd by Fate's Decrees,
The Western World impatient to explore,
They plough their Way thro' the cærulean Plain.
Trembling beneath the Weight old Ocean foams,

And now, rejoycing, the Tyrrhenian Strand
They lose, and Palinurum seems to fly.

Long while, with Eurus in the swelling Sail,
They cut the liquid Way. Th' Æolian Rocks,
And sooty Vulcan's fuming Seats they pass.
Next Caralis arises, and its Isle:
And now behind upon the Right they leave
The Baleares with their savage Race,
Ill cover'd by the Spoils of hunted Beasts,
And fam'd for Slings. Near these Orphiusa stands,
The barren Nursery of Serpents dire.
Now tow'rds the Left to Mauritania's Shoar
The Pilot leads: Malvana's Stream they taste,
And here the weary Host awhile repos'd.

Refresh'd, the well-stor'd Vessels they regain,
And soon with Silence, and Amaze behold
Calpe, and Abyla's enormous Height,
Once join'd, 'till sever'd by the Son of Jove:
So ancient Legends tell. Th' Herculean Bounds
They tremble to exceed, and wond'ring view
The streight'ning Coasts, and feel the warring Tides.

The vast Atlantic Seas at length they find,
When pale Philastron cry'd—O Dardan Chief!
Not Palinurus self of old had pass'd
Alcides Pillars, or beheld, unmov'd,
Yon boundless Main! The great Hesperian Deep
Our Fleet receives. Now more tumultuous Waves,
Ye Trojans, and far louder Storms attend!
Who can unfold what Monsters here are bred,
What Rocks lye hid? 'tis now 'tis now ye need

A Lynx's Eyes, and all Philastron's Skill!

He said, and onward to the Ocean wide
Against contending Streams they force the Way.
And now from Ship to Ship the Dardans boast,
First of the Trojan Race to have essay'd,
The Perils of this unfrequented Main.

Still from the East the heaving Canvas fills,
And thro' these Seas unknown they form their Course,
When sage Philastron from unerring Signs
A future Storm presag'd, and now beholds
The coming Tempest, and approach'd the Land.

He gains Tartessos, where the Sons of Tyre
A spacious Haven, and high Tow'rs had form'd,
From whence th' industrious Race, intent on Gain,
Might visit all th' Hesperian Coast around,

And e'en in Thule's Isle remote exchange
Their Orient Wealth from spicy Ind convey'd.
Amilcar was their Chief. Scarce had he seen
Their Fleet, and ken'd from far the Grecian Sails,
When jealous of their Force, and rival Pow'r,
The close Phœnician in his Mind revolv'd
Deceitful Wiles, and thus to Maia's Son.

Offspring of Jove! Protector of our Art!
Whose sacred Altars never cease to blaze
In Sidon fam'd for Arts, or wealthy Tyre,
Thy new rais'd Walls defend! Confound the Foes,
Who dare, great Pow'r thy Mysteries explore,
And share the Empire of Atlantic Seas!

Thus ends the Pray'r, when from the Shoar he feigns
Signals of Peace, and opens all his Port.
The barring Chains remov'd, the Vessels sail

Beneath the lofty Pharus, and secure
From threat'ning Winds on the smooth Bason ride.

Thus weary Travellers in pathless Woods
With Joy believe the false Hyæna's Voice,
And venture to the Den, where she prepares
Her murd'rous Jaws, and meditates on Blood.

Mean while, to Dian in Olympus thus
Hermes, the swift-wing'd Messenger of Jove.

Chaste Daughter of Latona, still thou seem'st
Anxious for wandring Brute: Within my Walls
Securely he shall rest amidst his Foes.
Their stubborn Hearts with Terrors will I shake,
And thy lov'd Hero shall in Peace proceed.
Jove best the Laws of Destiny can tell,
Who shuts from us with Adamantine Bars

The sacred Records of unalter'd Fate.
Yet surely this is he, of whom 'twas nois'd
Thro' high Olympus, that his active Sons
More Altars to Cyllenius shou'd raise,
Than all the Eastern Nations I defend.

He said, when thus bright Cynthia return'd.
Hard tho' it seems, O Hermes, to unfold
The Register of Time: Yet we have hear'd,
The Progeny of Brute will reign secure,
While the Earth-shaking God shall be ador'd!
And know'st thou not, 'twas rumour'd here above,
How to a Race from Troy in Years to come
The Empire of the Ocean should descend?
Decrees, we're told, in ancient Saturn's Reign,
Obscurely spoke of Brute, a Dardan Line,
Riches, reviving Liberty, and Arts,
The Muses Seats, and new discover'd Worlds.
Thus far our mighty Sire himself declar'd,

And, in the Synod of assembled Gods,
Pronounc'd, that Brutus was the Hero chose,
To raise the lasting Throne of Albion,
And consecrate to my immortal Name
Such solid Tow'rs as Age shall ne'er destroy!
On Alba's Hills, e'er Phoebus he provok'd,
Oft with the Dawn I met him in the Chace;
Oft, till the Night's Return the foaming Boar,
Or nimble Hind we drove along the Plains;
Nor Meleager, nor Hippolytus
Were e'er so dreaded by the Silvan Herds.

Here Dian, ending, sought the Carian Coast,
And Latmus where her lov'd Endymion lies,
While to Tartessos Hermes bent his Flight.

With Semblance fair, and mild Amilcar gains
The Trojan Faith, now smiles, now seems to weep,
And feel the wond'rous Story of their Toils;
But soon as all concealing Night arose,
And Darkness, fit for treacherous Intent,
The faithless Pirate his dire Council calls,
And thus his Breast perfidious unfolds.

O Tyrians, who still my Fortunes share,
Whether upon the Seas, content to rove,
We widely course, uncertain of our Prey,
Or, safer, wander still from Shoar, to Shoar,
Spreading our Eastern Treasures to receive
The Wealth of distant Lands! Where'er we range,
I've found Obedience follow my Commands.
O now be faithful to yourselves, and me!
Three Hundred Ships, and sure from Neptune's Ire,
Here have their Refuge sought: Here may they find
More cruel Storms, and perish in our Hands!

Our Fury shou'd these Trojans once evade,
Their Sons, our antient Oracles declare,
Far wider o'er the Ocean shall command
Than Sidon, Tyre, and new Carthago's Pow'rs.
No Matter by what Arts our Rivals fall!
No Tortures are too horrid for our Foes,
Or Treasons dark, that can our Sway support!
Gold is our God, our Honour is our Gain!

Here Hermes hardy Narbal's Form assumes,
Narbal grown old in Spoil, and thus began.

Amilcar sage, full well dost thou advise,
And pleas'd we hear; but who shall dare attempt
These wary Trojans, and well guarded Ships?
Once in Illyrium these Eyes beheld
This Brutus war. What Courage, and what Force?
How strong his Arm? How boldly he advanc'd?
What Wonders did his Sword, and Spear perform?
I saw him too, as in the Isles of Greece

I winter'd with my Bark, in Feats of Strength,
And martial Games the Grecian Youth amaze,
And, like Alcides, all their Efforts foil.
Who shall his Arms resist? Or who destroy
That warlike Hero, second to this Man,
Him, who commands those Vessels, which oppose
Our Harbour's Entrance, of enormous Size,
And dreadful Aspect, Corinæus call'd?

He said, and vanish'd in the guilty Croud:
Pale Fear th' Assembly seiz'd. In vain Designs
Amilcar's bloody Ministers, perplex'd,
The Night consume. And now the Morn arose,
And now Salpirus, whom the watchful Chief
Had ever by his Side, Salpirus known
Throughout the Host, and honour'd in the Field
From the high Deck, where Brutus sought Repose,
Thrice sounds aloud his brazen Clarion,
Known Signal to depart. The Port around,
The lofty Tow'rs, and far extended Moles

As oft re-echo to the martial Voice.
Strait on the Masts the loosen'd Canvas fell,
And to their nimble Oars the Vessels move,
While daring Corinæus leads the Van.
And now the Navy meets the Ocean's Wave,
High-swelling, and the Sea with Murmur hoarse
Confess'd the Tempest past. The Tyrians
Reluctant from the Shoar with envious Eyes
The parting Fleet pursue, when thus, inrag'd,
Amilcar Silence broke. God of the Seas,
Who with thy massy Trident canst o'erturn
The vast Abyss, till Earth's Foundations move,
And from the hollow Center frighted Hell
Trembles to hear thy Fury! See, great Pow'r,
An exil'd Stranger plough th' Atlantic Main!
A wand'ring Particide of Dardan Race
Unhurt, and unmolested leaves behind
Th' Herculean Bounds, and triumphs on our Seas,
Seas given unto us alone to range.
If e'er our Pray'rs, our Hecatombs avail'd,

Revenge thy faithful Sons! Let thy big Waves
Roll o'er his impious Head! May Tempests, Rocks,
And all the hidden Horrors of the Deep
Exterminate the proud, audacious Foe!

Thus Neptune he implor'd, to ardent Pray'r
Joining religious Sacrifice, and Vows,
Till from his Sight the hated Ships withdrew.

Bætis they pass, and Anas, vagrant Stream,
Which, like the fond Alphæus, hath been fam'd
Long way thro' subterranean Vaults to steal,
And hide from mortal Eyes its doubtful Course.
The sacred Promontory next they gain,
When sudden from the wat'ry South arose
With stormy Show'rs no inauspicious Blast,

And drove, impetuous, along the Coast,
Till golden Tagus, Ulyssippo's Tow'rs,
Monda, and Minius were left behind,
Nor ends the hasty Course till they behold
Artabrum, and the black Trileucian Rocks.
Here ceas'd the rapid Wind, a gentler Gale
Succeeds, and to the vast Cantabrian Gulf
Slowly they move: The long neglected Oar
Seconds the scarce half animated Sail,
And in a ling'ring Calm the Breeze expires.

The Trojans oft with the returning Tides
Drive adverse, and in vain the Winds implore.
What cou'd alone the Rowers Toils avail?
Auster the sad Philastron oft invokes;
But neither he, or Eurus hear'd his Plaint;
Nor on the liquid Fields did Zephyr sport,

Nor Boreas, rude Tyrant of the Main.
The Waves, fleet Daughters of the wanton Winds,
Silent from the cærulean Waste withdrew,
And from their ouzey Beds, and low Retreats
Panting for Breath the Monsters of the Deep
The Surface gain, impatient to devour
Th' incircling Air, and catch some passing Breeze.
The Birds, who haunt the Seas, and lonely Shoars,
Heavy, and faint fly o'er the noisom Flood,
And floating Sedge, with rank, and viscous Scum
Threaten Stagnation to the wat'ry Realms.

In this unactive State th' aspiring Son
Of Silvius mourn'd o'er his useless Arms,
And chid slow Time, and chid the absent Winds,
That thus oppos'd his Labour, and his Fame.
From the high Vessel Corinæus rag'd,
Tir'd of inglorious Ease. Each warlike Chief
Complain'd, and ev'ry Trojan longs for Toil.

Mean while great Neptune from the equal Sons
Of Memnon, whence the Nile obscurely flows,
To Heav'n returning, as on Atlas Crown
He stay'd, the distant Fleet from far surveys,
And shook his briny Locks, and thus inrag'd.

Wisely, Amilcar at our sacred Fane
Still daily for dire Vengeance dost thou sue!
So numerous a Host, a Fleet so strong
Never before th' Atlantic Water press'd.
Laomedon's foul Treachery, and Troy
With its deceitful Race were long forgot;
But these their daring and ambitious Sons
My sleeping Fury rouze, and call aloud
For twofold Rage! Shall Oceans I deny'd

To Jove's unconquer'd Sons, Seas I had shut
From all Invaders, save the Ships of Tyre,
Be plough'd by wand'ring Slaves in hostile Arms,
By Fugitives, escap'd from Grecian Chains,
From Insults, Tasks, and vile Captivity?

He said, and wonder'd at their Naval Force,
And bold Attempt, yet, more alarm'd, observ'd
The Calm, and fearing for his sick'ning Floods,
Summon'd the lurking Winds each to his Charge,
To scour the Seas, and shake old Ocean's Seat.

So when from his high Throne Almighty Jove
Views with paternal Care some favour'd State
Sunk in unactive Peace, too long indulg'd
In Ease, and soft Repose, the Guardian Pow'r
With all his Terror arms the God of War,
And sends him forth, to purge the sloathful Land.

At Neptune's loud Commands th' Æolian God
Starts from his Bed, and Deiopeia's Breast.
Where long dissolv'd in sweet Delights he lay,
And from their Caverns, and obscure Retreats
Compells his lazy Troops. With Echoes hoarse,
Loud-bellowing, from forth the hollow Rocks
They croud, delated on the wide Abyss,
And furrow with their angry Breath the Plains,
Where late fair Panope amidst the Nymphs,
Her blew-ey'd Sisters, play'd. The Trojan Host
With Horror seis'd the dreadful Change behold.
Now on a swelling Mountain's foaming Head
Uplifted to the Clouds, now sinking low,
As in some Vale profound, th' enormous Waves,
And Wonders of the Ocean they survey,
Trembling, and pale. The Pilot, all amaz'd,
Torn from th' ungovernable Helm, with Pain

Maintains th' uncertain Board. Benumbing Cold
Obstructs the Mariners, and Death appears
Before each gastly Face. Part are ingulf'd,
Part scatter'd wide on the Pictavian Shoar.

End of the fourth Book.

The God of Sleep.

The Name of Diana in the Infernal Regions.

See Book I.

A Promontory of the Tyrrhenian Sea, so call'd from Palinurus, the Pilot of Æneas.

The East Wind.

Islands between Italy, and Sicily.

The chief City in the Island of Sardinia.

Islands in the Mediterranean Sea, now Majorca, Minorca, and Yvica.

A little Island, now Formentara, overrun with Snakes.

A River in Africa.

The Two Mountains, one in Spain, and the other in Barbary, which are called Hercules's Pillars.

Æneas's Pilot.

The Streights of Hercules.

An Animal of a very quick, and penetrating Sight.

The City Cadiz, or Cales in Spain.

Mercury; the Son of Jupiter, and Maia.

A Watch Tower, or Beacon.

A Beast that counterfeits a human Voice to prey upon Men.

Mercury.

Another Name for Mercury.

Neptune.

Fanum Dianæ is one of the Names which have been given to London.

See Book II.

Famous Hunters.

A Hill in Caria where Diana us'd to meet Endymion.

The Aboad of Amilcar.

A River of Spain, now Guadalquivir.

Another River of the same Country, now the Guadiana. Authors have pretended that it runs some Way under Ground. Its Course is very long, and winding.

A River of Arcadia, that was fabled to be in Love with the Fountain Arethusa in Sicily, and to work its Way under the Sea to join her.

Now Cape St. Vincent.

A famous River near

Lisbon.

A River of Portugal, now Mondego.

A River of Gallicia in Spain, which divides it from Portugal, now Minho.

A Promontory of Gallicia.

Rocks near Cape Ortegall in Gallicia.

The Bay of Biscay.

The Æthiopians. See Hom. Iliad. Lib. 1. Odyss. Lib. 5.

The Son of Ilus King of Troy, who endeavour'd to defraud Neptune, and Apollo, when they had rais'd the Walls of his City.

Hercules.

See Virg. Æn. Lib. 1.

A Sea Nymph, the Daughter of Nereus, and Doris.

Part of Gaul.

THE FIFTH BOOK OF Brutus the Trojan; &c.

The Argument.

Brutus lands near the Loire in Gaul, and uses what Precautions he can to save his Fleet, the greatest Part of which arrives next Day at the same Place, when the Divinity of that River laments in a Prophetic Manner the Wars which are soon to be waged upon his Banks. It is resolved in Council to appease Neptune, and repair the Vessels. In the mean while, Corinæus is sent, to provide for the Army, and explore the Country, which is found evacuated, and greatly alarm'd at the Appearance of so numerous a Navy upon the Coast. Goffarius, the Pictavian King, dispatches his Herald Imbertus to the Trojans: In his Passage to the Fleet he meets with Corinæus, by whom he is slain, upon which Goffarius assembles his Forces. The Goddess Diana informs Brutus of their Approach, exhorts him to his Defence; but commands him to war only upon Necessity. Accordingly Brutus, leaving his Ships under the Conduct of Mempricius, marches towards the Pictavians, and Overtures of Peace are made to Goffarius, which he hears with Contempt, sacrificing to the God of War, and the Manes of Imbertus all the Trojans which were deputed to him, except Pantheus, Priest of Jupiter, whom he spares, and sends back with Threats, and Defiance to the Trojan Camp. Pantheus, returning, prays to Jove, whose Thunder is immediately hear'd, and received as propitious by either Army: He repairs to Brutus his Tent, to relate what had happen'd amongst the Gauls.

Near Liger's Stream the patient Brutus finds
Long wish'd for Land, and from a tow'ring Cliff
The unknown Realm surveys, and Ocean wide
Where late the mighty Tempest he sustain'd,
And Rhesus thus bespoke. O Dardan Youth,
Whom Jove has given to descry from far,
Look out upon the Waves, and Coast around,
And say, what thou behold'st! Rhesus obey'd,
And views the Coast around, and angry Waves,

While now declining Phoebus on the Deep
From forth the parting Clouds obliquely cast
His faint, and sickly Beams, and thus returns.

Great Chief! So far along the spacious Main
As I my Sight extend, so far are seen
Thy lab'ring Ships, still beaten by the Storm.
Some gain the friendly Shoar, some on the Shoals,
And neighb'ring Islands forc'd, their various Fates
Fulfil. He said, and now approaching Night
Adds Horror to the Winds, and raging Seas,
And clos'd in Darkness the tremendous Scene;
When on the rising Coast, and winding Strand
Far-shining Flames at equal Distance rang'd
The wary Chief ordains: Th' aspiring Fires
Direct, and cheer the fainting Mariner;
For now the Storm had spent its highest Rage,
And tow'rds th' enlighten'd Shoar the Vessels move.
Mean while Salpirus from th' impending Rock
Till Morn arose tun'd loud his brazen Trump:

Far off the Trojans hear the well known Sound;
And soon old Liger from his ouzy Bed
Reluctant saw th' assembled Fleet attain
His fruitful Banks, and sighing, thus began.

O, who of mortal, or immortal Race
Shall the severe Decrees of Fate withstand?
'Tis come, the destin'd Time so long foretold!
A Dardan Foe in Ships of Greece arrives,
To break with rude Alarms my long Repose,
T' oppress with Carnage, and pollute with Blood
My pure, and virgin Nymphs. What Scenes of Death,
What Toils, what Strife, what Horrours they prepare!
Methinks already thro' my hollow Shoars
The dread tumultuous Voice of War resounds!
He said, and sunk beneath his Waters low.

Not far from where, defunct of Winds, and Waves,
The peaceful Navy lay, a Vale retir'd,
And shadow'd round with high impending Oak
The Chiefs for Council chuse: Its verdant Banks
A circling Scene afford, and here they sat
Intent on their Concerns, and future Course.
Much they debate, and, pensive, oft accuse
Devouring Ocean, and with Sighs deplore
The Trojans lost, while each, his Toils to crown,
Eager, th' Accomplishment of Fate attends.

Thrice happy Mortals, still in vain deceiv'd,
Within whose Breasts fair Hope for ever blooms,
Unmindful of the past, and strongly blind
To all that must succeed in unknown Time.

Could'st thou, O mitred Pantheus, but have seen,
Or thou Mempricius old, Gerion sage
Thy Labours yet to come, had'st thou not sunk

Beneath th' oppressive Weight? E'en Brute so fam'd
For Patience never from his Seat had rose,
The weary Leaders with these Words to sooth.

Thus far with Sweat, and Labour have we trod
The arduous Ascent of bright Renown,
And now from the ambitious Height survey
The Dawn of wish'd Repose. Dangers, once past,
However great, become delightful Tales.
The Story of lost Liberty regain'd;
The Rage of Africa, her Quicksands dire;
Ithaca's Rocks, and false Calypso's Isle;
The Tyrrhene Storms; Alcides Limits past,
With all the Wonders of Atlantic Seas
Shall cheer our Age, and make our Infants smile.
The angry God of Oceans to appease,
Dardanian Heroes, well we have decreed,
And, while the happy Season calls, with Speed
Our worn, and sea-beat Vessels to restore,

Haply for the last Time, since thou declar'st,
O Seer, the Land of promis'd Empire nigh.
But who shall first explore these Realms unknown,
And from the Mountains, and extended Plains
Bring down their Flocks, and Herds?—Mine be the Task,
Fierce Corinæus cry'd, that all from hence
May guess my Prowess in some nobler Toil!
Long e'er in Quest of Glory I forsook
Antenor's Tow'rs, full often was I try'd
In many a dangerous Course, and from as far
As fam'd Epirus, and Ceraunian Hills
Laden with Captives have as oft return'd.

He said. A Voice so loud, so firm a Mien
Brutus admir'd, nor wou'd his Will oppose,
Tho' many Rivals 'midst th' assembled Chiefs
To court the daring Enterprize were found.

And now undaunted Corinæus arms
Two hundred Warriors in Fight approv'd,
And practis'd in Surprise: With these he gains
Th' adjacent Heights, and seeks his doubtful Way.

Now Fame, who strengthens, as she flies around;
Spreads with her thousand Tongues the loud Alarm,
And thro' the Region in hast proclaims
A sailing Forrest, and unnumber'd Foes.
From the tumultuous Land the frighten'd Swains
Gather their grazing Herds, and fleecy Care,
And gain, precipitate, the strong Retreats
Of high-wall'd Cities, while from Tow'r to Tow'r,
And distant Hills the warning Flames foment
The blind Confusion, and panic Dread.

Fir'd with the busy Rumour, from his Throne
Goffarius, Pictavian Prince, arose,
And thus, amaz'd, his Herald strait bespoke.

100

Imbertus hast! Th' exotic Race explore!
If Offspring of the Deep, immortal Gods,
Thus covering the Ocean with their Pow'r,
Our Altars they demand, these captive Foes
Beneath their Feet shall bleed; if, born like us,
The Sons of Men, precarious they breathe,
And hold their brittle Essence from above,
Or Peace, or War indifferent they bear:
We know to conquer; to defend, or die!

He said. Imbertus, at his King's Command,
With twice two hundred Picts, a savage Train,
Towards the Fleet descends. Now half his Way
With hasty Steps the Herald had perform'd,
And now the Regal Forrests he attains,
Where Corinæus at the Chace intent
Amidst his active Dardans he beheld:
An hundred Deer, as many foaming Boars
Had yielded to their Shafts, when thus the Pict,

101

Approaching, to the Trojan bold began.

Rash Stranger cease! Unpunish'd none presume
Our Woods to range! Sole from our Monarch's Hand
These sylvan Herds are doom'd to meet their Fate:
Such is his Will supream! Whoe'er thou art,
Retire! While yet—impatient to reply,
The Hero, with Contempt their naked Troop
Beholding, thus return'd—Hence, wretched Slave!
Avaunt! and at thy Monarch's Throne declare,
Great Nature's Laws superior we obey!
Our Hunger is our Plea! Bid him release
His stabled Flocks, and Herds! We ask no more!

These hasty Words the Gaulic Herald move,
When strait, inraging, from his bended Bow
An Arrrow flies: against the Trojan Cask
The missive Weapon glanc'd, and useless fell,
Fell in an evil Day; for now the Chief,
Like a rous'd Lion, rushes on his Foe,

102

And breathless on the Ground Imbertus lay.

From either Party Show'rs of Darts arise,
While the Pictavians Imbertus slain,
Confus'd, precipitate, the Combat fly,
And to their Prince the fatal Tidings bear.

Goffarius, his Herald thus destroy'd,
Calls loud for War, and soon a mighty Host
Inspir'd by Veng'ance, hastens to the Field.

The Daughter of Latona still intent
On favour'd Brutus, and the Dardan Fate,
Saw from above th' assembled Gauls advance,
Breathing Revenge, and to the Fleet descends.
The Goddess thro' the busy Troops unseen
Pass'd on, and pleas'd, upon the Sands beheld
Th' industrious Sons of Troy their Ships repair.
The pensive Chief, with public Cares oppress'd,

103

Apart upon the winding Coast she found,
Who louder than the Billows thus complain'd.

Happy, thrice happy they of Human Kind,
Who, humbly born, were made but to obey!
But oh! What Doubts, what Pains on State attend?
Thy golden Bow'r once more, Diana, leave!
And thou, Minerva, sprung from highest Jove,
Who whilom thro' the Labyrinths of Fate
Did'st guide the wandering Ulysses home,
Hear from thy lofty Throne! My Breast inspire!
O, teach me to conduct the Race, I love!

He said. Diana pierc'd the ambient Cloud,
Which veil'd from Eyes profane her Heav'nly Charms,
And to the Dardan Hero stood confess'd,
Attir'd as she was wont, when oft they chac'd
On Alba's woody Hills, and thus ordains.

104

Brutus arise! th' approaching Gauls behold!
Call forth thy Trojans in their just Defence!
But here let War, O Son of Silvius,
Be thy last Refuge! Fate amidst the Waves
Upon a distant Shoar thy Arm requires.

Thus ending, she regains the blest Abodes,
Where, far from Toil, and perishable Man,
Eternal, and serene, the Gods reside.

Pleas'd, the immortal Power Brute adores,
And view'd from far the Gaulic Mountains crown'd
With hostile Bands, descending on the Plain.
The Ships he gains, and strait, at his Command,
Thro' the wide Fleet the martial Trump resounds,
While at th' inspiring Notes each Trojan arms.
Mempricius with a thousand Dardan Eld
The empty Vessels guard. The hardy Youth,

105

Impatient, and emulous of Fame,
With Brutus to the dusty Field advance.

High on a pompous Car before his Host
Conspicuous the scepter'd Pict appear'd:
A Wolf enormous, by himself subdu'd,
Grin'd on his Helmet, and the savage Spoils
Athwart his manly Shoulders graceful hung.
His Breast a painted Sun adorn'd: The Stars,
The horned Crescent, and grim God of War
Were shadow'd on his Limbs. Upon the Left
A Shield refulgent deck'd the Monarch's Side.
A faithful Vassal on the Right supports
His Shafts, and stubborn Bow; and all around
Of noble Youth a chosen Phalanx mov'd.

Scarce had the King the Trojan Arms survey'd,
And Force united of th' embattled Foe,
When with a Sign his num'rous Troops he stays,
And checks his bold Career, turning aside,

106

Surpriz'd, and in his doubtful Mind revolves
Aloof the wily Stratagems of Mars.

Thus some fell Tiger, or Hyrcanian Pard
Rous'd in his Forest by the distant Cries
Of Flocks, and lowing Herds, intent on Blood,
With eager Steps pursues the luring Voice;
But when the wakeful Dogs Alarm he hears,
And views the Swains at his Approach prepar'd,
The brinded Monster, bellowing, retires,
And seeks by Fraud, what he by Force despair'd.

And now Cimmerian Darkness gently stole
On the declining Day, till Night conceal'd
The dreadful Face of War. From Host to Host
The Murmur of the Legions resounds,
So narrow did the Interval remain
'Twixt Foe, and Foe. In Council, and in Arms
Pensive the wary Trojans wait the Dawn.

107

And now Aurora blush'd, and now the Chiefs
From Council rose, when Brute to Pantheus calls
To Pantheus, who the while for wish'd Portents
The trembling Entrails had in vain explor'd,
And thus the Priest of Jupiter bespoke.

Hail, Minister rever'd, who best resolv'st
The mystic Orders of tremendous Jove!
Hear what the Trojan Synod hath ordain'd!

Deck'd with thy sacred Vest, and mitred Crown,
A Branch of peaceful Laurel in thy Hand,
To yonder Camp two Heralds shall precede
Thy solemn March; behind in spotless Robes
Twelve Dardan Youths thy goodly Train shall close,
And when before the Monarch thou shalt stand,
Thus loudly to th' invading Pict declare.

108

O King, if e'er of Troy thou ought hast learnt,
Her wand'ring Sons behold, decreed by Fate
Amidst the Waves their lasting Seat to raise!
Know, in Defence alone the Dardans war,
Nature's first Law. Who tamely may abide
The Rage of Man, or urging Pow'r of Want?
Forc'd on thy spacious Realms by Neptune's Wrath,
Peaceful we came, and wou'd in Peace retire.
Fair Peace, and Rites hospitious we claim,
Which none, who bend to mighty Jove, refuse.

Tho' doubtful of Success, at Brute's Command,
Duely his holy Ornaments prepar'd,
The venerable Pantheus strait departs.
His solemn March the destin'd Train attend,
And gain the Camp. Upon his Regal Seat
Amidst the Host Goffarius they found,
And loudly to th' invading Pict declare,
What in the Trojan Synod was ordain'd.

109

The Gaul exulting, and with horrid Smiles
Of high-swoln Scorn to Pantheus thus reply'd.

Whether of distant Troy, or Greece renown'd,
Or eastern Sidon, or the fabled Nile,
Whose Wonders have so often reach'd our Ears,
It matters not! Our God accepts my Vow,
And to Revenge delivers up the Foe!

He said, and thrice his Scepter wav'd on high,
When strait such Murmur fills th' applauding Host,
As when loud Ocean roars, or Forests wide
Bow with the Fury of some Thracian Blast.

The God of War, Idol of Aspect dire,
Vast, and inform, before the Monarch plac'd,
The Dardan Youths, and sacred Messengers
Were to his cruel Altars rudely torn.
In vain on Pantheus, and great Jove they call;

110

In vain thy Aid, Diana, they implore;
In vain the Trojan Camp with streaming Eyes,
All hopeless, pale, and trembling, they survey;
For now with Oaken Boughs a Druid crown'd,
Step'd forth, and sudden in their panting Hearts,
Relentless, plung'd his consecrated Steel.
With loud, unpity'd Cries the Victims fell,
And their last Groans on Brute for Vengeance call.
When thus, his Garment stain'd with purple Gore,
The fatal Minister of Death began.

Great God of Terror, and triumphant Gaul,
Who still our Host inspir'st! These Gifts receive!
And thou, O wandering, perturbed Shade,
O Manes of Imbertus, rest in Peace!

He said. Quick Flames the Sacrifice devour,
While now to Pantheus thus the Gaulic King.

111

I war not with the Gods! Thy mitred Head,
And holy Vest defend thee from our Rage!
Hence! To thy trembling Chiefs this Answer bear!
Their shameful Peace I scorn! Bid them depart,
And seek amidst the Waves their doubtful Seat!
Or chuse they thus to banquet with their Blood
Our Guardian Pow'rs? Or, with pale Famine worn,
To pine, and howl along our naked Coasts?
This dreaded Army which thou here behold'st,
Not half my Strength can boast. Twelve potent Kings,
Oft as the Sun his yearly Circuit runs,
Bring Tribute to our Feet, and at my Throne
Prostrate confess their Lord: Whene'er I call,
Proud to obey, their hostile Troops shall croud
These spacious Plains, and shade the Hills around.
Who dares to meet Goffarius in War,
With no light Foe contends; for, know, I spring
From that dread Pow'r who aws th' infernal World!

112

Pantheus, with Grief, and Fear oppress'd, obeys
The threat'ning Voice, and tow'rds the Dardan Camp,
His Garments rent, his peaceful Laurel torn,
Pensive advancing, thus directs his Pray'r.

Great Jove, beneath whose Shafts the lofty Tow'rs,
The Mountain Tops, and stately Cedars fall!
Who with thy clam'rous Thunder canst awake
Severest Tyrants Hearts! O hear my Voice!
If pleas'd thou e'er beheld'st thy Altars crown'd,
If e'er our bleeding Off'rings grateful fell,
Punish the dire, unhospitable Race!

Scarce had he spoke, when thro' the Air serene
The Voice of Jove thrice eccho'd from above.
Each Host accepts the Omen, both adore
The fulminating God, who guards alone
The fix'd Decrees of all-disposing Fate.

113

Soon as the Trojans from their Camp beheld
The Priest of Jove, dejected, and alone,
Approaching sad, oppress'd with anxious Thoughts,
Surpriz'd, and pale each other they survey,
And tow'rds the sacred Man in Crouds advance;
But Pantheus, still regardless of the Throng,
To the high Tent of Brute in Silence past,
And there with Tears the horrid Scene unfolds.

End of the fifth Book.

See Book II. p. 38.

The River-Loire so called.

See the precedent Books.

High Mountains on the Coast of Epirus, near the Adriatic Sea.

Diana.

See Book IV. p. 78.

See Book II. p. 40.

See Cæs. Com.

The Gauls deriv'd their Origin from Pluto. See Cæs. Com.