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] |
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| I. |
Lib. I.
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| II. |
 | An essay Upon the Third Punique War. Lib. I. and II |  |
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.
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.
2
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
3
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.
4
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.
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.
5
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.
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;
6
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
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.
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;
7
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;
8
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)
9
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,
10
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.
11
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.
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.
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.
12
'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.
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
13
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
14
'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:
15
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
16
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
17
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.
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.
18
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.
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,
19
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.
20
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.
21
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.
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,
22
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.
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
23
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.
24
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.
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.
| An essay Upon the Third Punique War. Lib. I. and II | |