Lvcans Pharsalia Containing The Ciuill Warres betweene Caesar and Pompey. Written In Latine Heroicall Verse by M. Annaevs Lvcanus. Translated into English verse by Sir Arthur Gorges ... Whereunto is annexed the life of the Authour, collected out of diuers Authors |
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The fourth Booke.
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The fourth Booke.
The Argvment.
Cesar vpon a lofty mountIncamped, doth his foes afront,
Neere to Ilerdas stately walles;
Where by the rage of water falles
Beeing distrest; thence his Cohorts
Hee ouer Sicoris transports:
And doth Petreius hoast pursue;
Where both the Campes a league renew.
Which wickedly Petreius brake,
And Friendship did with Slaughter slake.
His Campe then Cæsar doth inclose,
And so opprest his staruing foes,
That proud Petreius and his bands
Seeke mercy now at Cæsars hands.
Meane while Antonius men are slaine
Vpon the Adriaticke maine:
Whereas Vulteius and his mates,
Most gloriously doe end their dates.
Then Curio on the Lybicke coast
Is ouer-throwne with all his hoast.
Fierce
Cæsar now in Climes a farre,
Doth seriously pursue his warre:
And yet his Mart doth mildly wage,
Free from reuenge, or bloody rage.
Chiefly hee doth affect to see,
Of what import these Captaines be;
Afranius and Petreius were
The two that all the sway did beare.
The power was equall that they held
Ouer the Troopes, in Towne or field:
In campe they no precedence haue,
Either of them the watch-word gaue.
These had besides their Latium bands,
Swift Souldiers from Asturian lands:
And to them ioyn'd the Vectons light,
With all that people that tooke flight
From Gaule, to mixe their race with Spaine:
VVho Celtiberian name retaine.
Doth seriously pursue his warre:
And yet his Mart doth mildly wage,
Free from reuenge, or bloody rage.
Chiefly hee doth affect to see,
Of what import these Captaines be;
122
The two that all the sway did beare.
The power was equall that they held
Ouer the Troopes, in Towne or field:
In campe they no precedence haue,
Either of them the watch-word gaue.
These had besides their Latium bands,
Swift Souldiers from Asturian lands:
And to them ioyn'd the Vectons light,
With all that people that tooke flight
From Gaule, to mixe their race with Spaine:
VVho Celtiberian name retaine.
A place there is that naturally
Doth raise it selfe vp loftely;
And is a fertile plot of ground,
In midst whereof a hillocke round
Extends it selfe with ample bound.
On toppe whereof Ilerda stands,
Founded long since by Antique hands:
VVhose gallant seat, and stately walles,
Are washed with the water falles
Of pleasant Sicoris, not least
Of those sweet streames that Spaine do feast;
Shap't like a bow on either sides:
A bridge of stone this flood bestrides.
And vnto it a rocke is nye,
VVhere Pompey's men incamped lye:
VVhence Cæsars Tents are plainly seene
High pitcht vpon a lofty greene;
The Riuer runnes the Campes betweene.
VVhich field in largenesse doth extend
Further then sight can comprehend.
And this great Champion circling round
Swift Cingas streames doth safely bound.
VVhich is restrain'd to dippe or laue
His siluer breast in Neptunes waue:
For he his streames hath intermixt
VVith one great Flood that runs betwixt:
And Iberus it hath to name,
From whom that word Iberia came.
At first sight no exploits were vsd,
But was from bloudy Mart excusd:
For both the Captaines spent this day
To view their strength, and bands suruay.
This strife remorce of minde did rue,
And shame the rage of Armes withdrew:
Their Countries sake, and wronged lawes,
Gaue one dayes leasure for a pause.
No sooner day began to lurke,
But Cæsar sets great Troopes a worke,
As long as all the night did last,
About his Campe a trench to cast.
And then before this worke, the whiles
His armed bandes he rankes and files,
And with this slight his foe beguiles.
No sooner day his first light lends,
But Cæsar straight some legions sends
To take a hill, that mid-way rose
Betweene Ilerda and his foes.
Afranius then ('twixt feare and shame)
Was forc'd to entertaine this game,
And first with speed possest the same.
The one by sword and valor straue,
At his command the hill to haue:
The others for their right contest,
Already of the place possest.
But Cæsars men laden with Armes,
The Rockes doe clamber vp in swarmes.
And though the place were crag'd & steepe,
Where footing failes, they crawle & creepe:
And when they hold or handfast lackes,
Others with shields support their backes.
No fitting roome that place affoords
To throw their darts, or fight with swords.
Their Piles into the banke they stake,
And by them mounting steppes do make.
And whilst by shrubs and cragges they stay,
Through bushes they hacke out a way.
But Cæsar (seeing that his Troopes
For want of helpe in danger droopes)
Forthwith his aids of horsemen sends,
Commanding them to backe their frends.
And that they should with circling ring,
Charge home vpon the left hand wing.
So by this meanes vp to the top
His foot-men gat, and found no stop:
For they that first the hill did gaine,
Did now retire from thence amaine,
Their honour lost, and labour vaine.
Onely this while the chance of warre,
On either side did make a marre.
But now the hazards that ensue,
From the vncertaine motions grew,
Which then the aires vntemperance drew.
Doth raise it selfe vp loftely;
And is a fertile plot of ground,
In midst whereof a hillocke round
Extends it selfe with ample bound.
On toppe whereof Ilerda stands,
Founded long since by Antique hands:
VVhose gallant seat, and stately walles,
Are washed with the water falles
Of pleasant Sicoris, not least
Of those sweet streames that Spaine do feast;
Shap't like a bow on either sides:
A bridge of stone this flood bestrides.
And vnto it a rocke is nye,
VVhere Pompey's men incamped lye:
VVhence Cæsars Tents are plainly seene
High pitcht vpon a lofty greene;
The Riuer runnes the Campes betweene.
VVhich field in largenesse doth extend
Further then sight can comprehend.
And this great Champion circling round
Swift Cingas streames doth safely bound.
VVhich is restrain'd to dippe or laue
His siluer breast in Neptunes waue:
For he his streames hath intermixt
VVith one great Flood that runs betwixt:
And Iberus it hath to name,
From whom that word Iberia came.
123
But was from bloudy Mart excusd:
For both the Captaines spent this day
To view their strength, and bands suruay.
This strife remorce of minde did rue,
And shame the rage of Armes withdrew:
Their Countries sake, and wronged lawes,
Gaue one dayes leasure for a pause.
No sooner day began to lurke,
But Cæsar sets great Troopes a worke,
As long as all the night did last,
About his Campe a trench to cast.
And then before this worke, the whiles
His armed bandes he rankes and files,
And with this slight his foe beguiles.
No sooner day his first light lends,
But Cæsar straight some legions sends
To take a hill, that mid-way rose
Betweene Ilerda and his foes.
Afranius then ('twixt feare and shame)
Was forc'd to entertaine this game,
And first with speed possest the same.
The one by sword and valor straue,
At his command the hill to haue:
The others for their right contest,
Already of the place possest.
But Cæsars men laden with Armes,
The Rockes doe clamber vp in swarmes.
And though the place were crag'd & steepe,
Where footing failes, they crawle & creepe:
And when they hold or handfast lackes,
Others with shields support their backes.
No fitting roome that place affoords
To throw their darts, or fight with swords.
Their Piles into the banke they stake,
And by them mounting steppes do make.
And whilst by shrubs and cragges they stay,
Through bushes they hacke out a way.
But Cæsar (seeing that his Troopes
For want of helpe in danger droopes)
124
Commanding them to backe their frends.
And that they should with circling ring,
Charge home vpon the left hand wing.
So by this meanes vp to the top
His foot-men gat, and found no stop:
For they that first the hill did gaine,
Did now retire from thence amaine,
Their honour lost, and labour vaine.
Onely this while the chance of warre,
On either side did make a marre.
But now the hazards that ensue,
From the vncertaine motions grew,
Which then the aires vntemperance drew.
The winter seasons chilly frost,
With Northerne windes are turn'd and tost.
And now the aire within it shrouds,
Abundant heapes of clustred clouds.
The hilles lay cou'red thicke with snow,
And all the fields that lye more low,
Wanting the comfort of the sunne,
With hoary mists are ouer-runne.
The vtmost coasts that Westward lye
Were hardned with the freezing skye.
But when the bright-beam'd Tytan came
To lodge him with the gold fleec'd Ramme,
That in the seas did Helles beare,
VVhen from his backe she fell for feare,
And with his flaming rayes did bring
More warmth vnto the moisty spring.
And with an equall poyse vpright,
Did ballance out the day and night.
Then Cinthia's hornes but late renew'd,
Did Boreas from the aire exclude,
VVhich was with Easterne shine endu'd.
This East wind with Nabathean blasts,
A loofe from his owne quarter casts
The clouds that with him did reside,
And those that in Arabia bide.
And all those vaporing mists that mounts
Into the aire from Ganges founts:
Or whatsoeuer else the Sunne
By his attractiue power had wonne,
Or any fogges that North-west winde
Hath to the Easterne clime design'd,
Or that the Indian aire did binde.
With Northerne windes are turn'd and tost.
And now the aire within it shrouds,
Abundant heapes of clustred clouds.
The hilles lay cou'red thicke with snow,
And all the fields that lye more low,
Wanting the comfort of the sunne,
With hoary mists are ouer-runne.
The vtmost coasts that Westward lye
Were hardned with the freezing skye.
But when the bright-beam'd Tytan came
To lodge him with the gold fleec'd Ramme,
That in the seas did Helles beare,
VVhen from his backe she fell for feare,
And with his flaming rayes did bring
More warmth vnto the moisty spring.
And with an equall poyse vpright,
Did ballance out the day and night.
Then Cinthia's hornes but late renew'd,
Did Boreas from the aire exclude,
VVhich was with Easterne shine endu'd.
This East wind with Nabathean blasts,
A loofe from his owne quarter casts
The clouds that with him did reside,
And those that in Arabia bide.
And all those vaporing mists that mounts
125
Or whatsoeuer else the Sunne
By his attractiue power had wonne,
Or any fogges that North-west winde
Hath to the Easterne clime design'd,
Or that the Indian aire did binde.
These clouds remou'd from out that sky,
The dayes began with heat to fry:
Nor South nor North doe tempests feele,
Their rackes with cleered face doe wheele.
But now the Westerne world of Spaine,
These rowles of clouds doth entertaine.
So this part of the globy round,
That with his cliffes doth Thetis bound,
These clustred wool-packes so confound,
As that the aire all thicke is seene,
That lies the heauen and earth betweene;
And hardly roome there did remaine,
These bundled vapours to containe,
But prest, do powre down showres amaine.
The thunder now the flash holds backe
Of lightning, that precedes the cracke,
They are no sooner set on flame,
But the moist clowds do quench the same.
Here Iris now begins to show
Some part of her halfe-circled bow;
But not in wonted colours dy'd,
The beauty thereof thicke clouds hide.
Her thirst she in the Ocean slakes,
And to the clouds beares what shee takes:
And when they are disperst againe,
They showring fall into the maine.
And now the Pyrenean hilles,
Whose heapes of snow neuer distilles
By any vigor of the Sunne,
In torrents downe do swiftly runne;
Dissolu'd with mighty raines that fall,
Which those steepe rockes do bathe withall.
So as the monstrous streames that slides
Downe from those hugie Mountaines sides;
So fast into the riuers flye,
And doe their channels raise so hye,
As that their bankes they ouer-stride
For want of roome, their course to guide.
And ouer all the field so skimmes,
That Cæsars Campe now floting swimmes:
And with the rage of this fierce flood,
The tents are swept from whence they stood.
The medowes and the pastures dry,
All in a poole do bathing lye:
So as no cattell they can get,
Nor ought else whereof to make meate,
Nor fodder for their horse to eate.
For those that goe to fetch in pray,
In vnknowne paths doe range and stray,
And doubtfull roame on euery hand,
The floods so couers all the land.
The dayes began with heat to fry:
Nor South nor North doe tempests feele,
Their rackes with cleered face doe wheele.
But now the Westerne world of Spaine,
These rowles of clouds doth entertaine.
So this part of the globy round,
That with his cliffes doth Thetis bound,
These clustred wool-packes so confound,
As that the aire all thicke is seene,
That lies the heauen and earth betweene;
And hardly roome there did remaine,
These bundled vapours to containe,
But prest, do powre down showres amaine.
The thunder now the flash holds backe
Of lightning, that precedes the cracke,
They are no sooner set on flame,
But the moist clowds do quench the same.
Here Iris now begins to show
Some part of her halfe-circled bow;
But not in wonted colours dy'd,
The beauty thereof thicke clouds hide.
Her thirst she in the Ocean slakes,
And to the clouds beares what shee takes:
And when they are disperst againe,
They showring fall into the maine.
And now the Pyrenean hilles,
Whose heapes of snow neuer distilles
By any vigor of the Sunne,
In torrents downe do swiftly runne;
Dissolu'd with mighty raines that fall,
Which those steepe rockes do bathe withall.
So as the monstrous streames that slides
Downe from those hugie Mountaines sides;
126
And doe their channels raise so hye,
As that their bankes they ouer-stride
For want of roome, their course to guide.
And ouer all the field so skimmes,
That Cæsars Campe now floting swimmes:
And with the rage of this fierce flood,
The tents are swept from whence they stood.
The medowes and the pastures dry,
All in a poole do bathing lye:
So as no cattell they can get,
Nor ought else whereof to make meate,
Nor fodder for their horse to eate.
For those that goe to fetch in pray,
In vnknowne paths doe range and stray,
And doubtfull roame on euery hand,
The floods so couers all the land.
Now mischiefes mate, dire famines rage,
So playes his part vpon this stage,
That Cæsars troopes to ruine goes,
And yet besieged with no foes.
One Souldier giues a heape of gaine
Onely to buy a little of graine,
Yet therein shewes no prodigue vaine.
O hatefull humor Couetise,
Whose quenchlesse thirst nought can suffise.
A starued man cannot with-hold,
But he will sell his food for gold.
The mountaines now and hilles are hid,
The floods hath all things ouer-strid:
One onely face of waters vaste,
Hath all the lands cleane ouer-cast.
No troopes of craggy cliffes are kend,
To sauadge cotes where wilde beasts dend,
Vpon this ore-growne waters driues,
Where beasts swim strugling for their liues.
There flote the neighing Coursers braue,
Snatcht vp with this all-sweeping waue:
Which more then did the Ocean raue.
The Sunne to darknesse so gaue way
That night was all as cleare as day.
Heauens face with such confusion mourn'd,
That all was topsie-turuy turn'd:
And as the Poles, and Northerne Zones,
So vnder cold this milde clime grones.
No twinkling starres by night are seene,
The frozen earth brings forth no greene;
The chill num'd aire did coole the heate,
That makes the Torrid Zone to sweate.
So playes his part vpon this stage,
That Cæsars troopes to ruine goes,
And yet besieged with no foes.
One Souldier giues a heape of gaine
Onely to buy a little of graine,
Yet therein shewes no prodigue vaine.
O hatefull humor Couetise,
Whose quenchlesse thirst nought can suffise.
A starued man cannot with-hold,
But he will sell his food for gold.
The mountaines now and hilles are hid,
The floods hath all things ouer-strid:
One onely face of waters vaste,
Hath all the lands cleane ouer-cast.
No troopes of craggy cliffes are kend,
To sauadge cotes where wilde beasts dend,
Vpon this ore-growne waters driues,
Where beasts swim strugling for their liues.
There flote the neighing Coursers braue,
Snatcht vp with this all-sweeping waue:
Which more then did the Ocean raue.
The Sunne to darknesse so gaue way
127
Heauens face with such confusion mourn'd,
That all was topsie-turuy turn'd:
And as the Poles, and Northerne Zones,
So vnder cold this milde clime grones.
No twinkling starres by night are seene,
The frozen earth brings forth no greene;
The chill num'd aire did coole the heate,
That makes the Torrid Zone to sweate.
Great guider of this endlesse All,
Let these dire mischiefes so befall:
And Neptune, thou that hast next place,
Assist vs with thy powerfull mace.
O Ioue! doe not these clouds restraine,
But let them fill the aire with raine.
And Neptune, when thou forth dost send
Thy streames, forbid them backe to bend
Their course, nor let them haue
Retrait to thee; but with thy waue
Repulse the refuge that they craue;
And with thy Trident strike the ground,
That fountaines may from thence abound.
Let Rhenus ouer-whelme these fields,
And Rhodanus that swift streame yeelds.
Yea let all spring-heads flye at large,
And on this soile their sourse discharge.
Let mount Rhypheus snowes discend,
And euery lake to this place bend.
Let ponds and Pooles that stand at stay,
With oblique course encline this way;
Whereby the world may finde release
From ciuill warres, that vs oppresse.
But Fortune, with this little tutch,
Is pleasd to thinke all done, to much,
Vntill she Cæsar doe restore
Vnto her fauours, as before.
And all the Gods are now in paine
To make this man amends againe.
The aire therefore is rarefy'd,
And Phœbus with his wonted pride
Dissolues these wool-packes in the skies;
Aurora blushing red doth rise.
Each thing his wonted order takes,
The starres from them moist humors shakes;
And where dampe mists too much abound,
They are confin'd within the ground.
The groues begin with leaues to bud,
The hilles are seene aboue the flud.
The vallies and the pleasant meades
Firme grasse and flowers ouer-spreades.
Let these dire mischiefes so befall:
And Neptune, thou that hast next place,
Assist vs with thy powerfull mace.
O Ioue! doe not these clouds restraine,
But let them fill the aire with raine.
And Neptune, when thou forth dost send
Thy streames, forbid them backe to bend
Their course, nor let them haue
Retrait to thee; but with thy waue
Repulse the refuge that they craue;
And with thy Trident strike the ground,
That fountaines may from thence abound.
Let Rhenus ouer-whelme these fields,
And Rhodanus that swift streame yeelds.
Yea let all spring-heads flye at large,
And on this soile their sourse discharge.
Let mount Rhypheus snowes discend,
And euery lake to this place bend.
Let ponds and Pooles that stand at stay,
With oblique course encline this way;
Whereby the world may finde release
From ciuill warres, that vs oppresse.
But Fortune, with this little tutch,
Is pleasd to thinke all done, to much,
Vntill she Cæsar doe restore
Vnto her fauours, as before.
And all the Gods are now in paine
To make this man amends againe.
The aire therefore is rarefy'd,
And Phœbus with his wonted pride
128
Aurora blushing red doth rise.
Each thing his wonted order takes,
The starres from them moist humors shakes;
And where dampe mists too much abound,
They are confin'd within the ground.
The groues begin with leaues to bud,
The hilles are seene aboue the flud.
The vallies and the pleasant meades
Firme grasse and flowers ouer-spreades.
When Sicoris had left her prankes,
And drawne her selfe within her bankes;
Cæsar small skiffes prepares and rigges,
Composed of greene willow twigges.
And ouer it doth Oxe-hides dight,
Wherwith to keepe them staunch and tight.
Thus able made their load to take,
By them he doth his passage make.
So the Venetian frames like boates,
Wherewith on Padus streame he floates.
And so the Brittons in such skiffes,
Do coast alongst their Oceans cliffes.
And so with Canes conioyn'd together,
Couerd vpon with vntan'd leather.
The Memphites doe on Nylus trade,
Of which Canes leaues they paper made.
Now Cæsar with all speed transports
A many of his chiefe cohorts.
Who being on the other side
Do timber for a bridge prouide,
Wherewith this riuer to bestride.
But doubting that it might againe
Aboue the bankes his channell straine,
He would not on the riuers brinke
The ground-work posts driue down & sinke.
But somwhat farther in the lands,
On both sides the foundation stands;
And least that Sicoris should rise
With new floods, he did then deuise
Deepe trenches cut alongst the sides,
To draine away all swelling tides.
Now when Petreius plainly found
That Fate with Cæsar went so round,
His courage was therewith pluck't downe,
And left Ilerda's lofty Towne.
And thus his Army he withdrew
From those he trusted lesse then knew:
And takes his way, with all his traine,
Towards the vtmost coasts of Spaine.
A Nation that he heard was man'd
With many a stout and warlike band:
Of courage fierce, in broyles still bred,
Affecting Armes, and scorning dread.
When Cæsar saw the hilles left bare,
And Tents no longer standing thare,
He bids his troopes their Armes to take,
And would not stay this bridge to make,
Nor gage the riuer for a foord,
But bids them swim; and with that word
They cut the streame with nimble hands,
And in that sort transport the bands.
The Souldiers being grieu'd at heart
To see their foes should so depart,
In head-long swarmes do flye to Mart.
No sooner dry'd, they fall to Arme,
And then their chilly ioynts doe warme
With speedy march, and neuer stay
Vntill the noone-tide of the day.
By this did Cæsars horse out-goe
The marching battaile of the foe:
Who were with that vnlook't-for sight
Doubtfull whether to flye or fight.
Here where they met, a large field lies,
In which two ample hilles did rise
That rocky were, and nothing greene,
And there a valley lay betweene.
Which barren earth of stony ground
A ledge of hilles doth both sides bound:
And by them trending there did stray
A crooked and vncoth by-way.
The entrance whereof if the foe
Had gained first, he safe might goe
(As Cæsar saw) and lead the warre
Into a Quarter strange and farre:
The Countrey wilde, and ill to passe,
Whose people fierce and sauadge was;
Therefore he bids his men be bold,
Haste on (quoth he) no order hold.
Turne backe againe your flying foes,
The face of Mart gainst them oppose.
With threatning looks shew them their death
Let cowards draw no lingring breath.
If they by fight away would scape,
With your sharp blades their bosomes rape.
No more he said, but did preuent
His foes, ere they the hilles had hent.
Then there a sunder they did pitch
Their Tents, fenc't with a little ditch:
From whence each other did descry
VVith ease, how they incamped lye.
Then they began to know each other,
Father the sonne, brother the brother.
Their ciuill mallice waxed cold,
Yet for a while from speech they hold;
Onely with swords they beckning make,
And so their first acquaintance take.
At last vnto such tearmes they fall,
That loue suppresseth raging brawle.
For then the Souldiers vndertooke
Into each others campe to looke:
And with free hearts and dreadlesse face,
VVith friendly armes their guests embrace.
This man his host calles by his name,
Others to kinsfolkes doe the same.
Another he espies his mate,
That was his schoole-fellow but late.
No Roman was on either side,
But he some old acquaintance spy'd.
Their Armes were all with teares besprent,
Their kisses do in sobbes lament.
And though no bloud were drawne at all,
Yet did they feare what might befall.
Alas! why vexe you so your breast?
What need you waile this mad vnrest?
These needlesse teares were banisht quite,
If you consider but a right
That you your selues nurse this despight.
Do you so much the mischiefe feare
That your owne humors bred and reare?
Why let the Trumpet sound his fill,
Regard it not, but keepe you still:
And though the Ensignes flye at large,
From ciuill brawles your Armes discharge.
So shall you end Erinnys date,
And Cæsar then in priuate state
Shall cease his son-in-law to hate.
And drawne her selfe within her bankes;
Cæsar small skiffes prepares and rigges,
Composed of greene willow twigges.
And ouer it doth Oxe-hides dight,
Wherwith to keepe them staunch and tight.
Thus able made their load to take,
By them he doth his passage make.
So the Venetian frames like boates,
Wherewith on Padus streame he floates.
And so the Brittons in such skiffes,
Do coast alongst their Oceans cliffes.
And so with Canes conioyn'd together,
Couerd vpon with vntan'd leather.
The Memphites doe on Nylus trade,
Of which Canes leaues they paper made.
Now Cæsar with all speed transports
A many of his chiefe cohorts.
Who being on the other side
Do timber for a bridge prouide,
Wherewith this riuer to bestride.
But doubting that it might againe
Aboue the bankes his channell straine,
He would not on the riuers brinke
The ground-work posts driue down & sinke.
But somwhat farther in the lands,
On both sides the foundation stands;
And least that Sicoris should rise
With new floods, he did then deuise
Deepe trenches cut alongst the sides,
129
Now when Petreius plainly found
That Fate with Cæsar went so round,
His courage was therewith pluck't downe,
And left Ilerda's lofty Towne.
And thus his Army he withdrew
From those he trusted lesse then knew:
And takes his way, with all his traine,
Towards the vtmost coasts of Spaine.
A Nation that he heard was man'd
With many a stout and warlike band:
Of courage fierce, in broyles still bred,
Affecting Armes, and scorning dread.
When Cæsar saw the hilles left bare,
And Tents no longer standing thare,
He bids his troopes their Armes to take,
And would not stay this bridge to make,
Nor gage the riuer for a foord,
But bids them swim; and with that word
They cut the streame with nimble hands,
And in that sort transport the bands.
The Souldiers being grieu'd at heart
To see their foes should so depart,
In head-long swarmes do flye to Mart.
No sooner dry'd, they fall to Arme,
And then their chilly ioynts doe warme
With speedy march, and neuer stay
Vntill the noone-tide of the day.
By this did Cæsars horse out-goe
The marching battaile of the foe:
Who were with that vnlook't-for sight
Doubtfull whether to flye or fight.
Here where they met, a large field lies,
In which two ample hilles did rise
That rocky were, and nothing greene,
And there a valley lay betweene.
Which barren earth of stony ground
A ledge of hilles doth both sides bound:
And by them trending there did stray
A crooked and vncoth by-way.
130
Had gained first, he safe might goe
(As Cæsar saw) and lead the warre
Into a Quarter strange and farre:
The Countrey wilde, and ill to passe,
Whose people fierce and sauadge was;
Therefore he bids his men be bold,
Haste on (quoth he) no order hold.
Turne backe againe your flying foes,
The face of Mart gainst them oppose.
With threatning looks shew them their death
Let cowards draw no lingring breath.
If they by fight away would scape,
With your sharp blades their bosomes rape.
No more he said, but did preuent
His foes, ere they the hilles had hent.
Then there a sunder they did pitch
Their Tents, fenc't with a little ditch:
From whence each other did descry
VVith ease, how they incamped lye.
Then they began to know each other,
Father the sonne, brother the brother.
Their ciuill mallice waxed cold,
Yet for a while from speech they hold;
Onely with swords they beckning make,
And so their first acquaintance take.
At last vnto such tearmes they fall,
That loue suppresseth raging brawle.
For then the Souldiers vndertooke
Into each others campe to looke:
And with free hearts and dreadlesse face,
VVith friendly armes their guests embrace.
This man his host calles by his name,
Others to kinsfolkes doe the same.
Another he espies his mate,
That was his schoole-fellow but late.
No Roman was on either side,
But he some old acquaintance spy'd.
Their Armes were all with teares besprent,
Their kisses do in sobbes lament.
131
Yet did they feare what might befall.
Alas! why vexe you so your breast?
What need you waile this mad vnrest?
These needlesse teares were banisht quite,
If you consider but a right
That you your selues nurse this despight.
Do you so much the mischiefe feare
That your owne humors bred and reare?
Why let the Trumpet sound his fill,
Regard it not, but keepe you still:
And though the Ensignes flye at large,
From ciuill brawles your Armes discharge.
So shall you end Erinnys date,
And Cæsar then in priuate state
Shall cease his son-in-law to hate.
O Concord with eternall grace!
That sweetly do'st all things embrace:
Within this mixed massie spheare,
Worlds sacred loue be present heere;
For now in danger stands our age,
To be distrest with future rage:
Warres mischiefes secretly deuisd,
Is now discouer'd and despisd.
The mis-led people see with shame,
What is the cause of all their blame,
Each friend doth know his friend by name.
But (ah) dire Fates, that do aduance
With a sinister ordinance,
The bloudy strife that shall encrease
For this small time of pleasing peace.
Truce now in both the Campes did swarme,
With visitations free from harme.
Vpon the greene turfe is their seat,
Where they together friendly eate.
And Bacchus liquor doth abound,
Huge fires they kindle on the ground.
Together they do Cabbins make,
But all the night no sleepe doe take,
The tales they tell keepe them awake.
One telles how he the trench defends,
Another how his pile he bends,
With strength that from his arme he sends.
And whilst that some thus brags and boasts
What they haue done in sundry coasts:
Others againe will giue a glance,
And say that this fell out by chance.
Yet they poore foules doe finde content
That with such faith the time is spent.
But (ah) this new contracted loue
Must greater future mallice proue.
For when Petreius heard report,
How both the Campes in friendly sort
With mutuall loue each other greets,
And in such kindnesse daily meets;
He then imployes some trusty bands,
Who with their armed wicked hands,
Do fall on the vnarmed foe,
And ore the trenches them do throw.
Then their embracements and kinde words
They separate with bloody swords;
So in a sauadge brainsick mood,
He washt away this peace with blood.
That sweetly do'st all things embrace:
Within this mixed massie spheare,
Worlds sacred loue be present heere;
For now in danger stands our age,
To be distrest with future rage:
Warres mischiefes secretly deuisd,
Is now discouer'd and despisd.
The mis-led people see with shame,
What is the cause of all their blame,
Each friend doth know his friend by name.
But (ah) dire Fates, that do aduance
With a sinister ordinance,
The bloudy strife that shall encrease
For this small time of pleasing peace.
Truce now in both the Campes did swarme,
With visitations free from harme.
Vpon the greene turfe is their seat,
Where they together friendly eate.
And Bacchus liquor doth abound,
Huge fires they kindle on the ground.
Together they do Cabbins make,
But all the night no sleepe doe take,
The tales they tell keepe them awake.
132
Another how his pile he bends,
With strength that from his arme he sends.
And whilst that some thus brags and boasts
What they haue done in sundry coasts:
Others againe will giue a glance,
And say that this fell out by chance.
Yet they poore foules doe finde content
That with such faith the time is spent.
But (ah) this new contracted loue
Must greater future mallice proue.
For when Petreius heard report,
How both the Campes in friendly sort
With mutuall loue each other greets,
And in such kindnesse daily meets;
He then imployes some trusty bands,
Who with their armed wicked hands,
Do fall on the vnarmed foe,
And ore the trenches them do throw.
Then their embracements and kinde words
They separate with bloody swords;
So in a sauadge brainsick mood,
He washt away this peace with blood.
Then he enrag'd with words of ire,
New fewell addes vnto old fire.
O Souldiers, that with base neglect,
Do thus your Countries cause reiect,
And with a loose forgetfull minde,
To your owne Ensignes are vnkinde;
By this meanes you can neuer showe
The faith that you the Senate owe.
Can this league that you haue renewd,
Witnesse that Cæsar is subdu'd
By you? and can it be maintain'd,
Your countries freedome thus is gain'd?
Beleeue me, now you rather goe
The way your selues to ouer-throw.
Will you become proud Cæsars slaue
Whilst in your hands you weapons haue?
And whil'st the Victors happy state
Depends vpon a doubtfull fate?
And whilst your sturdy limbes and vaines
(Not soak't with wounds) fresh blood retains?
Will you as men that ill deserue,
Vnder condemned Ensignes serue?
Must Cæsar without more adoe
Now needs be su'd and sought vnto?
That he would you vouchsafe the grace,
To serue in some inferior place?
And must we (that command in chiefe)
Of Cæsar seeke our liues reliefe?
Oh no, that scorne we much disdaine,
Treason shall not our safety gaine,
No wicked price can vs retaine.
This ciuill warre we doe not wage
To saue our liues from furies rage;
Our liberties, and Countries cause,
Vs willingly to dangers drawes.
What need we deepe mines vndertake
For Steele and Iron, Armes to make?
Or why should we our Citties wall,
And raise huge Ramparts therewithall?
What need such troopes of Coursers braue,
As in our Campes we daily haue?
Or to what vse should we maintaine
Such towring Gallions on the maine,
If we be willing to release
Our liberties, to gaine a peace?
A wicked oath our foes doth binde
To sue these warres with constant minde.
And can you with your faiths dispence,
That is engag'd with iust pretence?
Need you from guilt to be acquite,
Because you for your Countrey fight?
O shamefull and vnmanly act!
That would such heynous leagues contract.
Pompey, that art estrang'd by Fate,
From knowledge of the Cities state,
And Armies dost prepare for warre,
With aids from Kings remote so farre.
Perhaps thou buildst vpon our trust,
Ready to aid thy quarrell iust.
Thus said, againe he sets on fire,
Their mindes with wicked warres desire.
New fewell addes vnto old fire.
O Souldiers, that with base neglect,
Do thus your Countries cause reiect,
And with a loose forgetfull minde,
To your owne Ensignes are vnkinde;
By this meanes you can neuer showe
The faith that you the Senate owe.
Can this league that you haue renewd,
Witnesse that Cæsar is subdu'd
By you? and can it be maintain'd,
Your countries freedome thus is gain'd?
Beleeue me, now you rather goe
The way your selues to ouer-throw.
Will you become proud Cæsars slaue
Whilst in your hands you weapons haue?
And whil'st the Victors happy state
133
And whilst your sturdy limbes and vaines
(Not soak't with wounds) fresh blood retains?
Will you as men that ill deserue,
Vnder condemned Ensignes serue?
Must Cæsar without more adoe
Now needs be su'd and sought vnto?
That he would you vouchsafe the grace,
To serue in some inferior place?
And must we (that command in chiefe)
Of Cæsar seeke our liues reliefe?
Oh no, that scorne we much disdaine,
Treason shall not our safety gaine,
No wicked price can vs retaine.
This ciuill warre we doe not wage
To saue our liues from furies rage;
Our liberties, and Countries cause,
Vs willingly to dangers drawes.
What need we deepe mines vndertake
For Steele and Iron, Armes to make?
Or why should we our Citties wall,
And raise huge Ramparts therewithall?
What need such troopes of Coursers braue,
As in our Campes we daily haue?
Or to what vse should we maintaine
Such towring Gallions on the maine,
If we be willing to release
Our liberties, to gaine a peace?
A wicked oath our foes doth binde
To sue these warres with constant minde.
And can you with your faiths dispence,
That is engag'd with iust pretence?
Need you from guilt to be acquite,
Because you for your Countrey fight?
O shamefull and vnmanly act!
That would such heynous leagues contract.
Pompey, that art estrang'd by Fate,
From knowledge of the Cities state,
And Armies dost prepare for warre,
With aids from Kings remote so farre.
134
Ready to aid thy quarrell iust.
Thus said, againe he sets on fire,
Their mindes with wicked warres desire.
Like as the cruell sauadge beast,
That long from forrest prey hath ceast,
Shut vp within a closed cage,
More mildly bred, dis-vsd from rage:
At length his nature being tam'd,
To humane bent is brought and fram'd.
If he againe but taste the smacke
Of blood, that he so long did lacke;
And therewith warme his rauening Iawes,
Will then with furious ramping pawes,
Thirsty of bloud, expose his power
His fearefull keeper to deuoure.
So to all villany they goe,
And monstrous treachery they show.
The which vile fact they cloake with night,
Blinde Fortunes deed, and Fates despight.
For now behold, 'twixt bed and boord,
They brutishly doe bathe the sword
VVithin their breasts, whom they before
VVith deere embracements did deplore.
And though at first they moaning yearne,
So to employ their weapons sterne:
The thirsty sword that peace withstands,
Offers it selfe into their hands.
Yet whilst they kill, they loath the fact,
Their faint blowes shew their minds distract.
But now the Campe is raging hot,
All faith is brutishly forgot:
Their rauening hands with blood they glut,
The sonnes their fathers throats do cut.
Yet that the Souldiers may be freed
As guiltlesse of this heynous deed:
Before their two great Captaines eyes
They did shew forth this bloody prize,
VVhich sight did them with ioy surprize.
That long from forrest prey hath ceast,
Shut vp within a closed cage,
More mildly bred, dis-vsd from rage:
At length his nature being tam'd,
To humane bent is brought and fram'd.
If he againe but taste the smacke
Of blood, that he so long did lacke;
And therewith warme his rauening Iawes,
Will then with furious ramping pawes,
Thirsty of bloud, expose his power
His fearefull keeper to deuoure.
So to all villany they goe,
And monstrous treachery they show.
The which vile fact they cloake with night,
Blinde Fortunes deed, and Fates despight.
For now behold, 'twixt bed and boord,
They brutishly doe bathe the sword
VVithin their breasts, whom they before
VVith deere embracements did deplore.
And though at first they moaning yearne,
So to employ their weapons sterne:
The thirsty sword that peace withstands,
Offers it selfe into their hands.
Yet whilst they kill, they loath the fact,
Their faint blowes shew their minds distract.
But now the Campe is raging hot,
All faith is brutishly forgot:
Their rauening hands with blood they glut,
The sonnes their fathers throats do cut.
Yet that the Souldiers may be freed
As guiltlesse of this heynous deed:
Before their two great Captaines eyes
They did shew forth this bloody prize,
VVhich sight did them with ioy surprize.
But Cæsar, though thy gallant bands
Be thus despoil'd with treacherous hands,
Yet thou the Gods dost still regard,
And didst not such reuenge award
Vpon thy foes; when thou didst stand
Triumphant in Pharsalia land.
Nor when thou didst on seas of late,
The stout Massilian force abate.
Nor when thou didst in Ægypts soyle
At Pharos, giue thy foes the foyle.
But their outrage, and thy milde course
Betters thy cause, and makes theirs worse.
For now these Captaines spirits droopes,
They dare not with polluted troopes
Longer incampe in Champian lands,
Their Tents too neere to Cæsars stands.
But to Ilerda they will flee,
VVhose walles they thinke much safer be.
But Cæsars horse-men them preuent,
And in dry hilles they are vp-pent.
VVhere want of water they sustaine,
For Cæsar did their ditches draine;
And them with Troopes incompast so,
That from their Campe they dare not goe
To fetch in water, where springs flow.
135
Yet thou the Gods dost still regard,
And didst not such reuenge award
Vpon thy foes; when thou didst stand
Triumphant in Pharsalia land.
Nor when thou didst on seas of late,
The stout Massilian force abate.
Nor when thou didst in Ægypts soyle
At Pharos, giue thy foes the foyle.
But their outrage, and thy milde course
Betters thy cause, and makes theirs worse.
For now these Captaines spirits droopes,
They dare not with polluted troopes
Longer incampe in Champian lands,
Their Tents too neere to Cæsars stands.
But to Ilerda they will flee,
VVhose walles they thinke much safer be.
But Cæsars horse-men them preuent,
And in dry hilles they are vp-pent.
VVhere want of water they sustaine,
For Cæsar did their ditches draine;
And them with Troopes incompast so,
That from their Campe they dare not goe
To fetch in water, where springs flow.
When these men saw their deaths at hand
No longer now in feare they stand,
But carried on with raging will,
Their horses first of all they kill;
VVhich now can serue them to no vse,
Being thus pent vp in a muse.
And therefore set aside all hope,
Seeing to scape was left no scope.
Towards their armed foes they flye:
But when that Cæsar did espye
In them this furious desperate vaine;
Souldiers (quoth he) your Armes refraine,
Though rushing thus, they you confront,
Do not receiue their head-strong brunt:
I know a better way by farre,
In blood I list not bathe my warre.
Hee conquest gaines at too high price,
That striues with those that death entice.
These laddes now weary of their liues,
Together with their ruine striues,
To bring some wracke on vs withall;
But on our swords they shall not fall:
Though they desire in this staru'd mood
To loose their liues, to spill our blood.
O this is but a madding fit!
Let them a while champe on the bit.
Barre them that death so faine they would,
Their courage will be quickly coold.
Hold them but lingring off from fight,
Vntill the Sunne with-draw his light,
And in the Ocean dip his head,
And that the skies be ouer-spred
With starres; let Tytan siluer-bright,
Giue them but space to pawse a night.
Thus when they saw their Mart was mar'd,
And meanes of fight they were debar'd;
Their furious humor waxed cold,
And in their mindes more temper hold.
Like him whose breast the sword doth pierce
With wounds, griefe doth become more fierce:
Whilst gushing from the nerues and vaines
Hot bloud, his striuing spirits straines
To shew the force that yet remaines:
And yet vntill the bones beginne
Neerer to draw the blood-puft skinne,
The whilst the witting victor stands
Retyr'd, and doth with-hold his hands,
Vntill a chill numme heauinesse
The ioynts and spirits doe possesse
Of this poore wounded man, at length
Who findes himselfe depriu'd of strength,
When as the gore no longer flowes,
But on the wound stiffe-dried growes.
No longer now in feare they stand,
But carried on with raging will,
Their horses first of all they kill;
VVhich now can serue them to no vse,
Being thus pent vp in a muse.
And therefore set aside all hope,
Seeing to scape was left no scope.
Towards their armed foes they flye:
But when that Cæsar did espye
In them this furious desperate vaine;
Souldiers (quoth he) your Armes refraine,
Though rushing thus, they you confront,
Do not receiue their head-strong brunt:
I know a better way by farre,
In blood I list not bathe my warre.
136
That striues with those that death entice.
These laddes now weary of their liues,
Together with their ruine striues,
To bring some wracke on vs withall;
But on our swords they shall not fall:
Though they desire in this staru'd mood
To loose their liues, to spill our blood.
O this is but a madding fit!
Let them a while champe on the bit.
Barre them that death so faine they would,
Their courage will be quickly coold.
Hold them but lingring off from fight,
Vntill the Sunne with-draw his light,
And in the Ocean dip his head,
And that the skies be ouer-spred
With starres; let Tytan siluer-bright,
Giue them but space to pawse a night.
Thus when they saw their Mart was mar'd,
And meanes of fight they were debar'd;
Their furious humor waxed cold,
And in their mindes more temper hold.
Like him whose breast the sword doth pierce
With wounds, griefe doth become more fierce:
Whilst gushing from the nerues and vaines
Hot bloud, his striuing spirits straines
To shew the force that yet remaines:
And yet vntill the bones beginne
Neerer to draw the blood-puft skinne,
The whilst the witting victor stands
Retyr'd, and doth with-hold his hands,
Vntill a chill numme heauinesse
The ioynts and spirits doe possesse
Of this poore wounded man, at length
Who findes himselfe depriu'd of strength,
When as the gore no longer flowes,
But on the wound stiffe-dried growes.
Now want of water them constraines
To digge and search out hidden vaines
Of springs & streames, that haue their birth
Deepe in the bowels of the earth.
And whilst about this worke they stand,
They do not onely take in hand
The Pick-axe, and the deluing spades,
But do employ their martiall blades.
And toppes of hilles they deeper sinke
Then any low-lodg'd riuers brinke.
The pale-hu'd Myners (that doe toyle
For gold, in rich Assyrian soyle)
Doe not sinke deeper pits downe-right,
In dungeons more remote from light.
And yet for all they can deuise,
They cannot see a spring to rise.
Nor any streame could be descry'd
That vnder-neath the ground did slide.
Nor from the sides of rocky hilles,
A droppe of liquor out distilles,
Though dig'd & pierc'd with pick-axe bils.
No drop of deaw or moisture laues
The hollow dampish airy caues.
Nor in the pits of grauill sand,
Doth any plash of water stand.
Their men thus ouer-laid with sweat,
And fainting now twixt thirst and heat;
Seeing that they but loose their paine,
Raise them from out the mines againe.
But by this diuing vnder ground,
Whereas some dampish mists they found,
When they come vp, can scarce endure
The aire, that is more hot and pure.
Neither are they refresh't with meate,
They faint for drinke, and loath to eate.
Hunger to them best helpe doth giue
Their thirsty humor to relieue.
But if that any moisty field,
Do grassie roots, or greene turfes yeeld,
Betweene their hands the same they squees
Into their mouth, and no drop leese.
Or if they meet with standing puddles,
Where slime & black mud stinking huddles;
The Souldiers there (to get a draught)
Will striue, as though a world they sought.
And staruing, will contented drinke
That, which they would else odious thinke.
And then will take it for their feasts,
To sucke the vdders of bruit beasts;
And when therein no milke remaines,
They sucke the bloud from out the vaines.
Others fresh leaues and hearbes will pound
With dew that on green boughes is found;
But chiefly, those crude stalkes that twines
About the tender-budding vines,
They presse, and sap from yong tree rinds.
To digge and search out hidden vaines
Of springs & streames, that haue their birth
137
And whilst about this worke they stand,
They do not onely take in hand
The Pick-axe, and the deluing spades,
But do employ their martiall blades.
And toppes of hilles they deeper sinke
Then any low-lodg'd riuers brinke.
The pale-hu'd Myners (that doe toyle
For gold, in rich Assyrian soyle)
Doe not sinke deeper pits downe-right,
In dungeons more remote from light.
And yet for all they can deuise,
They cannot see a spring to rise.
Nor any streame could be descry'd
That vnder-neath the ground did slide.
Nor from the sides of rocky hilles,
A droppe of liquor out distilles,
Though dig'd & pierc'd with pick-axe bils.
No drop of deaw or moisture laues
The hollow dampish airy caues.
Nor in the pits of grauill sand,
Doth any plash of water stand.
Their men thus ouer-laid with sweat,
And fainting now twixt thirst and heat;
Seeing that they but loose their paine,
Raise them from out the mines againe.
But by this diuing vnder ground,
Whereas some dampish mists they found,
When they come vp, can scarce endure
The aire, that is more hot and pure.
Neither are they refresh't with meate,
They faint for drinke, and loath to eate.
Hunger to them best helpe doth giue
Their thirsty humor to relieue.
But if that any moisty field,
Do grassie roots, or greene turfes yeeld,
Betweene their hands the same they squees
Into their mouth, and no drop leese.
Or if they meet with standing puddles,
Where slime & black mud stinking huddles;
138
Will striue, as though a world they sought.
And staruing, will contented drinke
That, which they would else odious thinke.
And then will take it for their feasts,
To sucke the vdders of bruit beasts;
And when therein no milke remaines,
They sucke the bloud from out the vaines.
Others fresh leaues and hearbes will pound
With dew that on green boughes is found;
But chiefly, those crude stalkes that twines
About the tender-budding vines,
They presse, and sap from yong tree rinds.
O happy soules, full blest were yee,
That whilst your barb'rous foes did flee,
They did in all the wayes they past
Poyson amongst the waters cast,
And so destroyd you all at last.
Our Roman youths will neuer shrinke
Witting those water streames to drinke;
Though Cæsar should the springs defile
With vennome, or with carrion vile;
Or wholesome welles should in despight,
Infect with deadly Aconite:
But now their bowels drowth hath fry'd,
Their mouthes resemble parchment dry'd.
Their tongues the baked froth doth furre,
In their shrunke veines no bloud will sturre:
Their lights and lungs do scarcely pant,
They all refreshing humor want.
And it doth grieue them to the death,
Through their chopt pipes to draw their breath.
Their iawes wide gaping they do stretch,
The cooling deawes by night to ketch.
They watch when some sweet showres will fall,
Which but of late ore-whelmed all:
And euermore they cast their eyes
Vpon the niggard cloudy skies;
And so much more it did them grieue,
Because that now they did not liue
Amongst Meroens parched plants,
Nor with the naked Garamants,
Nor vnder Cancers fiery lampe,
But their staru'd Army did encampe;
Where they (like Tantalus) might view,
Sweet Sicoris, with siluer hue,
And Iberus so swift and cleere,
Both hard at hand, they nere the neere.
That whilst your barb'rous foes did flee,
They did in all the wayes they past
Poyson amongst the waters cast,
And so destroyd you all at last.
Our Roman youths will neuer shrinke
Witting those water streames to drinke;
Though Cæsar should the springs defile
With vennome, or with carrion vile;
Or wholesome welles should in despight,
Infect with deadly Aconite:
But now their bowels drowth hath fry'd,
Their mouthes resemble parchment dry'd.
Their tongues the baked froth doth furre,
In their shrunke veines no bloud will sturre:
Their lights and lungs do scarcely pant,
They all refreshing humor want.
And it doth grieue them to the death,
Through their chopt pipes to draw their breath.
Their iawes wide gaping they do stretch,
The cooling deawes by night to ketch.
They watch when some sweet showres will fall,
Which but of late ore-whelmed all:
And euermore they cast their eyes
Vpon the niggard cloudy skies;
And so much more it did them grieue,
Because that now they did not liue
139
Nor with the naked Garamants,
Nor vnder Cancers fiery lampe,
But their staru'd Army did encampe;
Where they (like Tantalus) might view,
Sweet Sicoris, with siluer hue,
And Iberus so swift and cleere,
Both hard at hand, they nere the neere.
These tamed Captaines now are calme,
In stead of Bayes they carry Palme;
Afranius with a carriage meeke,
Peace for his guilty Armes doth seeke:
And so with all his crest-falne troopes
(That now in starued languor droopes)
Vnto the hostile Tents he wends,
And there at Cæsars feet he bends.
But though he sue, yet holds his grace
Not with mis-fortunes daunted face;
But carries all in fitting sort
For his now fate, and his late port:
And with a brow secure and bold,
To gaine his peace, this tale he told.
In stead of Bayes they carry Palme;
Afranius with a carriage meeke,
Peace for his guilty Armes doth seeke:
And so with all his crest-falne troopes
(That now in starued languor droopes)
Vnto the hostile Tents he wends,
And there at Cæsars feet he bends.
But though he sue, yet holds his grace
Not with mis-fortunes daunted face;
But carries all in fitting sort
For his now fate, and his late port:
And with a brow secure and bold,
To gaine his peace, this tale he told.
Had Fate ordain'd that I should stand
Thus vanquisht by a strangers hand:
My dreadlesse Arme I soone would frame
To reaue my life, and shun that shame.
But now this reason doth me leade
For safety of my life to pleade;
Because thou Cæsar dost beleeue
He nobly doth, that life doth giue.
Of faction we no parties are,
Our charge we held before this warre:
And to that former Martiall trust,
Whilst we had power, we haue beene iust,
To striue with Fate we do not lust.
Spaine we deliuer to thy hands,
We opned haue the Easterne lands:
Those coasts shall be secur'd from wracke,
That thou dost leaue behinde thy backe:
This conquest now on vs so gain'd,
Is not with losse of bloud obtain'd,
Thy hand or sword it hath not stain'd.
This onely boone in thee doth rest,
To spare thy foes that are distrest.
It is not much that we do craue
On our mishaps remorse to haue.
Permit our liues that thou dost giue,
From ciuill discord free to liue,
And rest secure of our intent;
These prostrate troops their spleen haue spent.
It fits not with thy happy Armes,
To mingle our subiected swarmes:
Nor that our captiue Troopes should dare
Triumphes with thy braue Hoast to share,
These with contentment know their fare.
Onely this grace let vs obtaine,
That thou do not our Armes constraine,
And force vs (conquer'd men) to be
Hereafter Conquerors with thee.
Thus vanquisht by a strangers hand:
My dreadlesse Arme I soone would frame
To reaue my life, and shun that shame.
But now this reason doth me leade
For safety of my life to pleade;
Because thou Cæsar dost beleeue
He nobly doth, that life doth giue.
Of faction we no parties are,
Our charge we held before this warre:
And to that former Martiall trust,
Whilst we had power, we haue beene iust,
To striue with Fate we do not lust.
Spaine we deliuer to thy hands,
We opned haue the Easterne lands:
Those coasts shall be secur'd from wracke,
That thou dost leaue behinde thy backe:
This conquest now on vs so gain'd,
140
Thy hand or sword it hath not stain'd.
This onely boone in thee doth rest,
To spare thy foes that are distrest.
It is not much that we do craue
On our mishaps remorse to haue.
Permit our liues that thou dost giue,
From ciuill discord free to liue,
And rest secure of our intent;
These prostrate troops their spleen haue spent.
It fits not with thy happy Armes,
To mingle our subiected swarmes:
Nor that our captiue Troopes should dare
Triumphes with thy braue Hoast to share,
These with contentment know their fare.
Onely this grace let vs obtaine,
That thou do not our Armes constraine,
And force vs (conquer'd men) to be
Hereafter Conquerors with thee.
Thus said, Cæsar (of nature milde)
With gracious lookes was reconcil'd:
All punishment he did remit,
And them from vse of Armes acquit.
No sooner was this grace obtain'd,
And their faith bound to be maintain'd,
But straight in heapes the Souldiers flee
Vnto the riuers, then set free:
And on the bankes did groueling fall,
Striuing for that was free for all;
So greedily the streames they swill,
And suddenly their panches fill,
As that their breath they neuer take,
Striuing their thirsty iawes to slake:
Whereby the aire that should relieue
Their empty vaines, and comfort giue,
No passage to their lights can finde;
And so withall they life resign'd.
This scorching pestilent disease,
So still doth on their bowels ceaze,
That though they ready be to burst,
The more they drinke the more they thurst.
Yet many comfort finde at length,
And well refresht, receiue new strength.
O Luxury! thou prodigue vaine,
That neuer canst the meane retaine;
And thou insatiate Gluttonie,
Pamper'd with superfluitie,
That rak'st and rob'st both land and seas,
Thy wanton appetite to please.
O learne, and better do aduise,
How small reliefe will life suffise,
For Nature doth excesse despise.
The strong old wine that we do keepe
Time out of minde in Cellars deepe,
No health or helpe at all can bring
To sickly sowles, whom feuers wring.
They mixed liquors do not suppe
Delitiously in golden cuppe:
Fresh water, and the hearty graine,
Doth strength restore, and life sustaine.
O! with what stormes do they contend,
That in the warres their liues do spend?
The Souldier now his Armes bequeaues,
To Cæsar, whence he grace receaues.
And more securely he doth rest,
Then with his corslet on his breast.
For freed thus from carke and care,
Vnto the Citties they repare.
And now do they that finde release
From warres, by this so happy peace,
That bloody trade and trauaile scorne,
Wishing they neuer Armes had borne,
To haue endur'd such thirst withall,
And on the Gods in vaine to call,
For conquest on their side to fall.
The wished hope of good successe
With doubts doth stoutest hearts oppresse.
When Armies sterne confonting striues,
Such toyles the wretched world contriues,
That Fortune neuer should haue rest,
If she should tend to their request,
As oft as men doe call and cry,
When they doe doubt of victory.
For through the world must bloud be shed,
Where troopes with Cæsars fate are led.
And therefore we may thinke him blest,
That knoweth where in quyet rest
His head to shelter free from scarres,
Since all the world is set on iarres;
So that this wretched ciuill broyle,
Men wearied do not ouer-toyle.
And slumbring soules are not affright
When Trumpets sound calles men to fight.
The wife may haue her deere consort,
Parents may with their children sport.
And lodg'd in simple Cotes secure,
Their fields may labour and manure,
Vnforc'd warres hazards to endure.
Thus Fortune now becomes more kinde,
And hath releast from cares our minde,
So as no cause of feare we finde.
Cæsar is founder of our rest,
But we were led by Pompey's hest.
And now this boone thereby we haue,
That whilst these ciuill warres do raue,
For neither side successe we craue.
With gracious lookes was reconcil'd:
All punishment he did remit,
And them from vse of Armes acquit.
No sooner was this grace obtain'd,
And their faith bound to be maintain'd,
But straight in heapes the Souldiers flee
Vnto the riuers, then set free:
And on the bankes did groueling fall,
Striuing for that was free for all;
So greedily the streames they swill,
And suddenly their panches fill,
As that their breath they neuer take,
Striuing their thirsty iawes to slake:
Whereby the aire that should relieue
Their empty vaines, and comfort giue,
No passage to their lights can finde;
And so withall they life resign'd.
This scorching pestilent disease,
So still doth on their bowels ceaze,
That though they ready be to burst,
141
Yet many comfort finde at length,
And well refresht, receiue new strength.
O Luxury! thou prodigue vaine,
That neuer canst the meane retaine;
And thou insatiate Gluttonie,
Pamper'd with superfluitie,
That rak'st and rob'st both land and seas,
Thy wanton appetite to please.
O learne, and better do aduise,
How small reliefe will life suffise,
For Nature doth excesse despise.
The strong old wine that we do keepe
Time out of minde in Cellars deepe,
No health or helpe at all can bring
To sickly sowles, whom feuers wring.
They mixed liquors do not suppe
Delitiously in golden cuppe:
Fresh water, and the hearty graine,
Doth strength restore, and life sustaine.
O! with what stormes do they contend,
That in the warres their liues do spend?
The Souldier now his Armes bequeaues,
To Cæsar, whence he grace receaues.
And more securely he doth rest,
Then with his corslet on his breast.
For freed thus from carke and care,
Vnto the Citties they repare.
And now do they that finde release
From warres, by this so happy peace,
That bloody trade and trauaile scorne,
Wishing they neuer Armes had borne,
To haue endur'd such thirst withall,
And on the Gods in vaine to call,
For conquest on their side to fall.
The wished hope of good successe
With doubts doth stoutest hearts oppresse.
When Armies sterne confonting striues,
Such toyles the wretched world contriues,
That Fortune neuer should haue rest,
142
As oft as men doe call and cry,
When they doe doubt of victory.
For through the world must bloud be shed,
Where troopes with Cæsars fate are led.
And therefore we may thinke him blest,
That knoweth where in quyet rest
His head to shelter free from scarres,
Since all the world is set on iarres;
So that this wretched ciuill broyle,
Men wearied do not ouer-toyle.
And slumbring soules are not affright
When Trumpets sound calles men to fight.
The wife may haue her deere consort,
Parents may with their children sport.
And lodg'd in simple Cotes secure,
Their fields may labour and manure,
Vnforc'd warres hazards to endure.
Thus Fortune now becomes more kinde,
And hath releast from cares our minde,
So as no cause of feare we finde.
Cæsar is founder of our rest,
But we were led by Pompey's hest.
And now this boone thereby we haue,
That whilst these ciuill warres do raue,
For neither side successe we craue.
Fortune doth not her grace expresse
On Cæsars side with like successe
In other coast, but there she shewes
That she dares crosse him with some blows.
For where the Adriaticke maine
His waues doth on Salona straine.
And whereas luke-warme Iaders sourse
Into soft Zephyr bends his course.
Antonius with his troopes resides;
Which coasts vpon the vtmost sides,
The Adriaticke sea doth bound:
There is he shut vp in that ground,
And trusts vnto those valiant bands
That he had from the Curets lands.
And able was his warre to wage
Against the force of hostile rage;
Had Famine not his campe distrest,
Wherewith strong forts are oft opprest.
This soyle for horse no fodder yeelds,
Nor any graine grew in the fields.
The hungry souldiers from the turfe
Pluckes vp for food the heathy scurfe.
And with their teeth do gnabbe the greene
Of medowes, that earst mow'd had beene.
But when these men their friends descry'd
Vpon the shore on th' other side;
And saw Basilus Ensigne spred,
Vnder whose conduct they were led:
A new deuice they vndertake,
By sea their secret flight to make;
But not with ships of common wont,
With sayles or oares the waues to front:
But with vn-vsed stratagems,
Together they did binde huge beames,
That would a mighty fraight sustaine,
And safely swim vpon the maine:
With empty Caske supported vp,
Which would not sinke, nor water sup.
These bundled trees great chaines did strength,
With doubled rankes combin'd in length.
Not drawne with oares on either sides,
Vpon the waues these vaste piles slides.
But by the floating of the beames,
They are borne vp vpon the streames.
And in that sort doth slily wend
With secret course not to be kend.
For neither sailes do make them flye,
Nor any oares they doe apply:
But now they doe the tides attend,
For then the seas did backward bend.
And with the ebbe the shores and sands
All bare and dry vncouered stands.
But after when the swelling maine
With turning flood did rise againe,
These structures that they did compose,
Were slidde into the floting Oase;
With two shippes that before them goe,
And after them these Raffes did tow.
These ships had turrets built vpright,
That plainly did appeare in sight;
And on the decke the trembling mast
Did bow, and stoope with euery blast.
But now Octauius Admirall,
That on the seas did gouerne all
For Pompey's part, would not in hast
Assaile these Raffes, but still stood fast.
And did his nimble ships restraine
From ranging out into the maine,
Vntill the foe were in his way,
Aloofe at sea, farre from the bay,
Securely running on his race,
Doubting no sayles to giue them chase.
So doth the fearefull Hart refraine
To scoure or range vpon the plaine,
But sculkes and hides amongst the brakes,
When by the winde the sent he takes
Of bow or shaft, or human breath,
Which he doth shun vnto the death.
Thus while the hunt with-holds the sounds
Of his fleet-hunting wel-mouth'd hounds;
And therewithall in cooples clogges
His Spartane, and his Cretan dogges;
And suffers none the Chase to sue,
But some old hound that can hunt true.
On dry-foots sent, with nusling snowt,
That will not put the beast in rowt,
With spending of his open iawes;
But when the tapise neere he drawes,
Will shake his taile, and quiet stand,
To fit all for the hunters hand.
Now these huge Raffes with speed they load,
And then conuey them from the road,
VVhen as the last of dayes twy-light
VVithstood the first approch of night.
Then Cilix, that same Pirate old,
That did on Pompeys party hold,
A slight deuisd them to betray,
VVhen on the seas they were mid-way.
A long huge chaine there he did sinke,
And to a rocke the end did linke
Of the Ilyrian cliffie shore,
But lets the first ship passe it ore,
And so the second in likewise,
And then the third he did surprise,
VVith his hook't chaine, the which he drew
Vnto the shore, with her arm'd crew.
This land doth sheluing hollow lye
Ouer the seas, strange to the eye.
VVhereon a tuffe of huge trees growes,
That on the waues great shadowes strowes.
Hither from ships by North-windes torne
Many dead carkasses are borne,
And in the creekes a while lye closd,
But after are againe exposd:
For when the Cauernes of this bay
VVith ebbe returnes his circling sway,
These whirle-pooles spue vp from their maw
More then Charybdis gulfie iaw;
Here now this Raffe inclosed is,
Deepe laden with the Colonies
Of Opiterge; and then the fleet
Of enemies about them meet.
And all about the neighbour strands
In Clusters gazing on them stands.
Vulteius now discerned plaine,
That he was taken in a traine:
For of this Raffe he was the chiefe,
And seeing no meanes of reliefe,
Nor that this cumbrous tangling chaine
By any force would breake in twaine,
He takes his Armes with doubtfull hope,
VVhether by flight to compasse scope,
Or with the sword a passage ope.
Yet in this hard distressed plight,
Valour affoords her manly might;
For being closed in a pownd
With thousands that this raffe did rownd,
Which scarcely had aboord it than,
One Cohort full the same to man.
(Although not long) they maintain'd fight
Vntill at last they wanting light,
The fray was parted by darke night.
On Cæsars side with like successe
In other coast, but there she shewes
That she dares crosse him with some blows.
For where the Adriaticke maine
His waues doth on Salona straine.
And whereas luke-warme Iaders sourse
Into soft Zephyr bends his course.
Antonius with his troopes resides;
Which coasts vpon the vtmost sides,
The Adriaticke sea doth bound:
There is he shut vp in that ground,
And trusts vnto those valiant bands
That he had from the Curets lands.
143
Against the force of hostile rage;
Had Famine not his campe distrest,
Wherewith strong forts are oft opprest.
This soyle for horse no fodder yeelds,
Nor any graine grew in the fields.
The hungry souldiers from the turfe
Pluckes vp for food the heathy scurfe.
And with their teeth do gnabbe the greene
Of medowes, that earst mow'd had beene.
But when these men their friends descry'd
Vpon the shore on th' other side;
And saw Basilus Ensigne spred,
Vnder whose conduct they were led:
A new deuice they vndertake,
By sea their secret flight to make;
But not with ships of common wont,
With sayles or oares the waues to front:
But with vn-vsed stratagems,
Together they did binde huge beames,
That would a mighty fraight sustaine,
And safely swim vpon the maine:
With empty Caske supported vp,
Which would not sinke, nor water sup.
These bundled trees great chaines did strength,
With doubled rankes combin'd in length.
Not drawne with oares on either sides,
Vpon the waues these vaste piles slides.
But by the floating of the beames,
They are borne vp vpon the streames.
And in that sort doth slily wend
With secret course not to be kend.
For neither sailes do make them flye,
Nor any oares they doe apply:
But now they doe the tides attend,
For then the seas did backward bend.
And with the ebbe the shores and sands
All bare and dry vncouered stands.
But after when the swelling maine
With turning flood did rise againe,
144
Were slidde into the floting Oase;
With two shippes that before them goe,
And after them these Raffes did tow.
These ships had turrets built vpright,
That plainly did appeare in sight;
And on the decke the trembling mast
Did bow, and stoope with euery blast.
But now Octauius Admirall,
That on the seas did gouerne all
For Pompey's part, would not in hast
Assaile these Raffes, but still stood fast.
And did his nimble ships restraine
From ranging out into the maine,
Vntill the foe were in his way,
Aloofe at sea, farre from the bay,
Securely running on his race,
Doubting no sayles to giue them chase.
So doth the fearefull Hart refraine
To scoure or range vpon the plaine,
But sculkes and hides amongst the brakes,
When by the winde the sent he takes
Of bow or shaft, or human breath,
Which he doth shun vnto the death.
Thus while the hunt with-holds the sounds
Of his fleet-hunting wel-mouth'd hounds;
And therewithall in cooples clogges
His Spartane, and his Cretan dogges;
And suffers none the Chase to sue,
But some old hound that can hunt true.
On dry-foots sent, with nusling snowt,
That will not put the beast in rowt,
With spending of his open iawes;
But when the tapise neere he drawes,
Will shake his taile, and quiet stand,
To fit all for the hunters hand.
Now these huge Raffes with speed they load,
And then conuey them from the road,
VVhen as the last of dayes twy-light
VVithstood the first approch of night.
145
That did on Pompeys party hold,
A slight deuisd them to betray,
VVhen on the seas they were mid-way.
A long huge chaine there he did sinke,
And to a rocke the end did linke
Of the Ilyrian cliffie shore,
But lets the first ship passe it ore,
And so the second in likewise,
And then the third he did surprise,
VVith his hook't chaine, the which he drew
Vnto the shore, with her arm'd crew.
This land doth sheluing hollow lye
Ouer the seas, strange to the eye.
VVhereon a tuffe of huge trees growes,
That on the waues great shadowes strowes.
Hither from ships by North-windes torne
Many dead carkasses are borne,
And in the creekes a while lye closd,
But after are againe exposd:
For when the Cauernes of this bay
VVith ebbe returnes his circling sway,
These whirle-pooles spue vp from their maw
More then Charybdis gulfie iaw;
Here now this Raffe inclosed is,
Deepe laden with the Colonies
Of Opiterge; and then the fleet
Of enemies about them meet.
And all about the neighbour strands
In Clusters gazing on them stands.
Vulteius now discerned plaine,
That he was taken in a traine:
For of this Raffe he was the chiefe,
And seeing no meanes of reliefe,
Nor that this cumbrous tangling chaine
By any force would breake in twaine,
He takes his Armes with doubtfull hope,
VVhether by flight to compasse scope,
Or with the sword a passage ope.
Yet in this hard distressed plight,
146
For being closed in a pownd
With thousands that this raffe did rownd,
Which scarcely had aboord it than,
One Cohort full the same to man.
(Although not long) they maintain'd fight
Vntill at last they wanting light,
The fray was parted by darke night.
Then did Vulteius stoutly braue
With dreadlesse speech himselfe behaue,
And cheereth vp his staggering band,
Amazed with the fate at hand.
Braue youths (quoth he) weigh in your breasts
This little time of night that rests;
And do resolue in this short date,
How you will seeke your latest fate.
Scarce haue we so long time of breath,
With leasure to fore-thinke our death.
More glory we shall giue our end,
To meet our Fate, then it attend.
Those mindes do merit no lesse praise,
That dare cut off their doubtfull dayes,
Then those, that shorten doe the scope.
Of longer yeares, that they doe hope.
For he that doth with his owne fist,
In sunder breake his life-spun twist;
A conquest to himselfe hath gain'd,
Willing to dye comes not constrain'd.
To scape, no meanes vs hope affoords,
We are empal'd with Romans swords.
Out-face proud death, lay dread aside,
Freely affect that must betide.
But let vs not (take heed withall)
Like slaughtred beasts in clusters fall,
With hostile hands hew'd downe and hack't,
Be in a cloud obscurely wrack't:
Or else be slaine whilst night doth last
With showres of darts from our foes cast.
For they that so confusedly
Fighting, doe intermingled dye,
True valour shades from sight of eye.
The Gods on vs this stage bestowes
In open view of friends and foes.
The rowling seas, and mountaines hye,
Shall see our courage death defie:
This Island witnesse shall the same,
And to her rockes record our fame.
The coasts on both sides shall behold
Valour vn-vanquisht vn-controld.
O Fortune! we vnwitting are
What endlesse fame thou doest prepare
Wherewith to glorifie our Fates.
For all records of future dates,
That endlesse ages can retaine,
Our memory shall still maintaine;
And for our sakes repeat with ruth,
To constant Mart our spotlesse truth,
Eternizing our famous youth.
And Cæsar, for thy sake we know
In this too little we bestow,
With our owne swords our selues to gore,
But thus beset, we can no more.
This constant death that we will proue,
We dedicate vnto thy loue.
But enuious Fate our praise did grutch,
And from it hath detracted much;
In that our Parents and our sonnes
With vs none of this fortune runnes.
Then should they know (had we some aid)
What dauntlesse spirits they way-layd.
And, doubtlesse, we should make them feare
To mell with vs, that such minds beare.
But they may hold them well-a-paid,
That no more of our ships they staid.
For then must they some means haue found
For our enlargement to compound;
And sought with some vaine offers base,
Our liuing honour to deface.
O would (that now to giue our death
One glory more, ere our last breath)
They would but vs some offer make,
Whereby we might our pardon take:
That we with scorne might it forsake:
That thereby they might plainely know
How dreadlesse we to death do goe.
And not as men in hopelesse mood,
With our own swords coole our own blood.
Let vs such vertue now expresse,
That Cæsar may with right confesse,
That he in vs hath vndergone
A bloody losse worthy of mone.
Although we few are but a mite
Mongst thousands that for him do fight,
Though fate would set vs free againe,
That offer yet would I disdaine;
Deere mates, this life to me is scorne,
Deaths motiues do my thoughts suborne.
Fury diuine hath rap't rap't my minde,
The Gods in fauour haue design'd
That we to death should giue our minde.
To others they such grace deny,
To thinke it happinesse to dye;
Because here in this world of strife,
They should protract a wretched life.
Now are these noble youths on fire,
To haste their fates with true desire.
Who did before gaze on the skies
With heauy hearts and watry eyes,
Expecting death when sunne did rise.
And did behold (with grieuing feare)
The stooping of the greater Beare,
Before that they this speech did heare.
But then they wisht to see dayes light,
So free they were from deaths affright.
For now their Captaines glorious words,
Prouok't their hearts like points of swords.
The Sphere with all her lampes of night
Haste in the seas to plunge their light.
The Sunne his parting then begins
From out the armes of Læda's twins,
And now this lofty starre him drawes
To lodge more neere to Cancers clawes
And for a farewell night imparts
With vs, her two Thessalian darts.
With dreadlesse speech himselfe behaue,
And cheereth vp his staggering band,
Amazed with the fate at hand.
Braue youths (quoth he) weigh in your breasts
This little time of night that rests;
And do resolue in this short date,
How you will seeke your latest fate.
Scarce haue we so long time of breath,
With leasure to fore-thinke our death.
More glory we shall giue our end,
To meet our Fate, then it attend.
Those mindes do merit no lesse praise,
That dare cut off their doubtfull dayes,
Then those, that shorten doe the scope.
Of longer yeares, that they doe hope.
For he that doth with his owne fist,
In sunder breake his life-spun twist;
A conquest to himselfe hath gain'd,
Willing to dye comes not constrain'd.
To scape, no meanes vs hope affoords,
We are empal'd with Romans swords.
Out-face proud death, lay dread aside,
Freely affect that must betide.
But let vs not (take heed withall)
Like slaughtred beasts in clusters fall,
With hostile hands hew'd downe and hack't,
Be in a cloud obscurely wrack't:
Or else be slaine whilst night doth last
With showres of darts from our foes cast.
For they that so confusedly
Fighting, doe intermingled dye,
147
The Gods on vs this stage bestowes
In open view of friends and foes.
The rowling seas, and mountaines hye,
Shall see our courage death defie:
This Island witnesse shall the same,
And to her rockes record our fame.
The coasts on both sides shall behold
Valour vn-vanquisht vn-controld.
O Fortune! we vnwitting are
What endlesse fame thou doest prepare
Wherewith to glorifie our Fates.
For all records of future dates,
That endlesse ages can retaine,
Our memory shall still maintaine;
And for our sakes repeat with ruth,
To constant Mart our spotlesse truth,
Eternizing our famous youth.
And Cæsar, for thy sake we know
In this too little we bestow,
With our owne swords our selues to gore,
But thus beset, we can no more.
This constant death that we will proue,
We dedicate vnto thy loue.
But enuious Fate our praise did grutch,
And from it hath detracted much;
In that our Parents and our sonnes
With vs none of this fortune runnes.
Then should they know (had we some aid)
What dauntlesse spirits they way-layd.
And, doubtlesse, we should make them feare
To mell with vs, that such minds beare.
But they may hold them well-a-paid,
That no more of our ships they staid.
For then must they some means haue found
For our enlargement to compound;
And sought with some vaine offers base,
Our liuing honour to deface.
O would (that now to giue our death
One glory more, ere our last breath)
148
Whereby we might our pardon take:
That we with scorne might it forsake:
That thereby they might plainely know
How dreadlesse we to death do goe.
And not as men in hopelesse mood,
With our own swords coole our own blood.
Let vs such vertue now expresse,
That Cæsar may with right confesse,
That he in vs hath vndergone
A bloody losse worthy of mone.
Although we few are but a mite
Mongst thousands that for him do fight,
Though fate would set vs free againe,
That offer yet would I disdaine;
Deere mates, this life to me is scorne,
Deaths motiues do my thoughts suborne.
Fury diuine hath rap't rap't my minde,
The Gods in fauour haue design'd
That we to death should giue our minde.
To others they such grace deny,
To thinke it happinesse to dye;
Because here in this world of strife,
They should protract a wretched life.
Now are these noble youths on fire,
To haste their fates with true desire.
Who did before gaze on the skies
With heauy hearts and watry eyes,
Expecting death when sunne did rise.
And did behold (with grieuing feare)
The stooping of the greater Beare,
Before that they this speech did heare.
But then they wisht to see dayes light,
So free they were from deaths affright.
For now their Captaines glorious words,
Prouok't their hearts like points of swords.
The Sphere with all her lampes of night
Haste in the seas to plunge their light.
The Sunne his parting then begins
From out the armes of Læda's twins,
149
To lodge more neere to Cancers clawes
And for a farewell night imparts
With vs, her two Thessalian darts.
The day spring doth descry abroad
How Istrian troopes the Cliffes do load.
And how the stout Liburnian fleet
With Greekish ships in consort meet.
But first, the rage of warre to cease,
They offer them to treate of peace:
And onely this contract would haue,
To yeeld themselues, their liues to saue;
Except they more desired death,
Then to preserue a Captiue breath.
But these braue yonkers did disdaine
Parlie for life to entertaine.
They were resolu'd that their owne Armes
Should free them from all scornfull harmes.
Their mindes prepar'd for vtmost woes,
Could not be mou'd with clamorous foes.
Few hands of theirs sustain'd the brunt
Of multitudes, that them affrunt
By land and seas on euery side,
Constant to death they firme abide.
And when they saw of hostile gore,
That they had shed sufficient store;
They turn'd their fury from the foe,
And with themselues in hand they goe.
The noble Captaine led the way
Vulteius braue, that doth display
His naked breast, and thus did say:
That hand amongst you most of worth
My blood with glory to let forth;
Let him giue proofe by wounding me,
That he likewise himselfe dares free
From captiue fate. No more he spake,
But therewithall short worke to make,
More swords then one became so fierce,
That all at once his bowels pierce.
Yet he that on him first did light,
Him with like kindnesse to requite,
His dying hand did then bestow
On him againe a fatall blow.
Then all the Troope hand ouer head,
With mortall wounds each other sped.
In such sort rag'd the Dircæan breed,
That did spring vp of Cadmus seed,
Which did presage the dismall fate
Of Theban brethrens dire debate;
Whose earth-bred race their linnage drawes
From that same waking Dragons iawes,
Whose teeth sowne in the Phasian fields,
Such cankred bloody natures yeelds;
As that the furrowes flowing stood
With fowle inrag'd allied blood,
Contriu'd by wrathfull Magickes mood.
And vile Medea, that these harmes
Did bring to passe with sorcerous charmes,
Fear'd what thereof might more betide,
Because those spelles she had not try'd.
In this sort dy'd those gallant laddes,
Whose mutuall fate each other glads.
Death to great vertue did expose,
To quell such valiant men as those.
Yet they together dye and fall;
No one mans hand did faile at all
To giue a wound, but it did bring
With dying hand, deaths deadly sting.
Neither did they to strong blowes trust,
But through their breasts the swords did thrust;
And for it should be throughly donne,
Vp to the hilts they did them runne.
In this blood-thirsty slaughtring fray,
The brother doth the brother slay;
Sonnes fathers send the selfe-same way.
And yet their hands were not affright
'Gainst natures lawes to shew their might.
But this was deem'd a pious deed,
With one blow and no more to speed.
Now did the bowels all bestrow
The hatches, and the bloud did flow
Ouer the sides into the seas.
To see the light did them displease;
But that with proud disdainfull grace
They might looke in the victors face,
And scornfully their deaths embrace.
The Raffe was heap't, and ouer-spred
With these braue youths that there lye dead.
To whom the Conquerors impart
Due funerals, as their desart.
And all the Captaines wondring stood,
At this braue Captaines dauntlesse mood.
And now the fame of this deed donne,
(As matchlesse) through the world did run.
But yet this patterne cannot make
Many base mindes like heart to take:
Dread will not let them vnderstand,
That Vertue with her valiant hand,
May easily their woes release,
If slauish Fate do them oppresse:
But Tyrants swords do them appall,
Their freedome vnder force doth fall,
Because they do not vnderstand
Why swords were fitted to the hand.
O Death! therefore doe not affright
The poore dismaied coward wight;
But shew thy tyrant murdrous dart
Vnto the dauntlesse noble heart.
Like courage he in Mart exprest
That doth the Lybian fields inuest:
For noble Curio leaues the rode
Of Lilybey, where his abode
With all his fleet, a while he made
Which now the Ocean do inuade.
When as a friendly Northerne gale
His ships vnto the port did hale,
Whereas the waues the ruines beat
Of great Carthagoes famous seat.
And then vnto the harbour came
Clupea hight, of noted name.
There first he maketh his discents,
And farre in land did pitch his tents
Hard by the slow Bagrada's sides,
That furrowes vp the sands with tides.
Then to the hilles his Army goes,
And to those hollow rockes that showes
Where great Antæus raigned king,
As old bards do not vainly sing.
Here Curio seriously desires
To heare report of ancient sires,
And what the peasants of the land
Did by tradition vnderstand;
From what occasion that tale rose,
That through the world this rumor blowes.
How Istrian troopes the Cliffes do load.
And how the stout Liburnian fleet
With Greekish ships in consort meet.
But first, the rage of warre to cease,
They offer them to treate of peace:
And onely this contract would haue,
To yeeld themselues, their liues to saue;
Except they more desired death,
Then to preserue a Captiue breath.
But these braue yonkers did disdaine
Parlie for life to entertaine.
They were resolu'd that their owne Armes
Should free them from all scornfull harmes.
Their mindes prepar'd for vtmost woes,
Could not be mou'd with clamorous foes.
Few hands of theirs sustain'd the brunt
Of multitudes, that them affrunt
By land and seas on euery side,
Constant to death they firme abide.
And when they saw of hostile gore,
That they had shed sufficient store;
They turn'd their fury from the foe,
And with themselues in hand they goe.
The noble Captaine led the way
Vulteius braue, that doth display
His naked breast, and thus did say:
That hand amongst you most of worth
My blood with glory to let forth;
Let him giue proofe by wounding me,
That he likewise himselfe dares free
From captiue fate. No more he spake,
But therewithall short worke to make,
More swords then one became so fierce,
That all at once his bowels pierce.
Yet he that on him first did light,
150
His dying hand did then bestow
On him againe a fatall blow.
Then all the Troope hand ouer head,
With mortall wounds each other sped.
In such sort rag'd the Dircæan breed,
That did spring vp of Cadmus seed,
Which did presage the dismall fate
Of Theban brethrens dire debate;
Whose earth-bred race their linnage drawes
From that same waking Dragons iawes,
Whose teeth sowne in the Phasian fields,
Such cankred bloody natures yeelds;
As that the furrowes flowing stood
With fowle inrag'd allied blood,
Contriu'd by wrathfull Magickes mood.
And vile Medea, that these harmes
Did bring to passe with sorcerous charmes,
Fear'd what thereof might more betide,
Because those spelles she had not try'd.
In this sort dy'd those gallant laddes,
Whose mutuall fate each other glads.
Death to great vertue did expose,
To quell such valiant men as those.
Yet they together dye and fall;
No one mans hand did faile at all
To giue a wound, but it did bring
With dying hand, deaths deadly sting.
Neither did they to strong blowes trust,
But through their breasts the swords did thrust;
And for it should be throughly donne,
Vp to the hilts they did them runne.
In this blood-thirsty slaughtring fray,
The brother doth the brother slay;
Sonnes fathers send the selfe-same way.
And yet their hands were not affright
'Gainst natures lawes to shew their might.
But this was deem'd a pious deed,
With one blow and no more to speed.
Now did the bowels all bestrow
151
Ouer the sides into the seas.
To see the light did them displease;
But that with proud disdainfull grace
They might looke in the victors face,
And scornfully their deaths embrace.
The Raffe was heap't, and ouer-spred
With these braue youths that there lye dead.
To whom the Conquerors impart
Due funerals, as their desart.
And all the Captaines wondring stood,
At this braue Captaines dauntlesse mood.
And now the fame of this deed donne,
(As matchlesse) through the world did run.
But yet this patterne cannot make
Many base mindes like heart to take:
Dread will not let them vnderstand,
That Vertue with her valiant hand,
May easily their woes release,
If slauish Fate do them oppresse:
But Tyrants swords do them appall,
Their freedome vnder force doth fall,
Because they do not vnderstand
Why swords were fitted to the hand.
O Death! therefore doe not affright
The poore dismaied coward wight;
But shew thy tyrant murdrous dart
Vnto the dauntlesse noble heart.
Like courage he in Mart exprest
That doth the Lybian fields inuest:
For noble Curio leaues the rode
Of Lilybey, where his abode
With all his fleet, a while he made
Which now the Ocean do inuade.
When as a friendly Northerne gale
His ships vnto the port did hale,
Whereas the waues the ruines beat
Of great Carthagoes famous seat.
And then vnto the harbour came
Clupea hight, of noted name.
152
And farre in land did pitch his tents
Hard by the slow Bagrada's sides,
That furrowes vp the sands with tides.
Then to the hilles his Army goes,
And to those hollow rockes that showes
Where great Antæus raigned king,
As old bards do not vainly sing.
Here Curio seriously desires
To heare report of ancient sires,
And what the peasants of the land
Did by tradition vnderstand;
From what occasion that tale rose,
That through the world this rumor blowes.
Long after that same monstrous brood
Of Earth-borne Gyants, loue with-stood,
Our Libian Countrey did not reare
Such ore-growne creatures as they were.
Neither was Typhons worth so much;
Nor Tityos, nor Briareus such,
As in the world they glory bare;
But sure the earth the heauens did spare,
That then Antæus was not borne,
Nor did in Thessaly soiorne.
A man so deere vnto the earth,
From whom he tooke his liuing birth;
As that he neuer touch't the ground,
But his maine force did more abound.
And when his huge limbes fainting grew,
Fresh strength in them it did renue.
This caue the house where he did dwell,
And vnder this high rocke the cell
Where he did lodge, and for his meate
The flesh of Lyons he did eate.
On wilde beasts skinnes he would not lye,
Nor on the broad leaues soft and drye;
But on the bare mould he would rest,
Wherewith his vigor still encreast.
The people ouer all the lands
Were mangled with his murdrous hands.
Of strangers, that the coast did trade,
A slaughter and a spoyle he made.
But for a time (proud of his force)
He did the helpe of earth diuorce.
And though he were of so great might,
That none durst him withstand in fight;
Yet when the fame abroad was spread,
Of this foule monster so a-dread,
And what great mischiefe he had donne,
It mou'd Alcides noble sonne
To passe to Affricke on the maine,
To buckle with this surly swaine.
Of Earth-borne Gyants, loue with-stood,
Our Libian Countrey did not reare
Such ore-growne creatures as they were.
Neither was Typhons worth so much;
Nor Tityos, nor Briareus such,
As in the world they glory bare;
But sure the earth the heauens did spare,
That then Antæus was not borne,
Nor did in Thessaly soiorne.
A man so deere vnto the earth,
From whom he tooke his liuing birth;
As that he neuer touch't the ground,
But his maine force did more abound.
And when his huge limbes fainting grew,
Fresh strength in them it did renue.
This caue the house where he did dwell,
And vnder this high rocke the cell
Where he did lodge, and for his meate
The flesh of Lyons he did eate.
On wilde beasts skinnes he would not lye,
Nor on the broad leaues soft and drye;
But on the bare mould he would rest,
Wherewith his vigor still encreast.
The people ouer all the lands
Were mangled with his murdrous hands.
153
A slaughter and a spoyle he made.
But for a time (proud of his force)
He did the helpe of earth diuorce.
And though he were of so great might,
That none durst him withstand in fight;
Yet when the fame abroad was spread,
Of this foule monster so a-dread,
And what great mischiefe he had donne,
It mou'd Alcides noble sonne
To passe to Affricke on the maine,
To buckle with this surly swaine.
But ere his taske he did beginne,
From him he casts his Lyons skinne,
That in Cleonea he had slaine:
Antæus likewise did refraine
To weare his Lybicke Lyons spoyle.
Then Hercules, the soueraigne oyle
Vpon his brawny limbes infusd,
That in Olympian games he vsd.
But now Antæus (earst so stout)
His proper force began to doubt;
And therefore stretcht himselfe at length
Vpon the sands, that gaue him strength.
Now with their hands they hand-fast take,
And fiercely doe their straind armes shake:
Then did they long (but all in vaine)
Each other by the collars straine,
And brow they doe confront to brow,
Which neither of them both would bow:
But each of them did muse to see
One that his equall match could bee.
Alcides yet forbare to show
His vtmost vigor on his foe:
But vrg'd him so with cunning slight,
That out of breath he puts him quight;
Which by oft panting he exprest,
With cold sweat trickling downe his breast.
Then both their necks with straining shakes
Breast against breast resistance makes,
Whilst their crost arms, with stooping chine
About each others thighes they twine.
Then doth Alcides leaue that hold,
And fiercely both his armes did fold
About Antæus bending waste,
And wringing girds his bowels fast;
Whilst he his foot with skill did slide
Betwixt his shankes, and made him stride.
Then with an in-turne following that,
Vpon his backe he threw him flat.
The parched earth the sweat receaues,
And vnto him new force bequeaues:
Fresh blood reuiueth euery vaine,
His sinowy necke grew strong againe.
His ioynts more firme and nimble were,
And with such force himselfe did beare,
That all that Herc'les did before,
His body now annoy'd no more.
Herewith Alcides grew amaz'd,
And on this strength increasing gaz'd,
For he was not so much affright,
When he did with that Hydra fight,
That new heads for his old could dight,
In the Inachian plashie fenne,
Though he were but a stripling then.
Long doubtfully did they contend:
One trusts the strength the earth did lend;
Th' other did on the vertue rest
That lodg'd within his manly breast.
His bitter step-dame neuer had
Such cause as now her hopes to glad,
In seeing him so hard bestad:
For now she sees his limbes to sweate,
And his strong shoulders starke with heate,
Whereon he wonted was to beare
The burthen of the starry spheare.
But now againe he did begin
His armes about his foe to cling,
Which when Antæus did perceaue,
He straight vnto the earth did cleaue,
From whence new force he did receiue.
And all the helpe the earth could giue,
Her sonne therewith she did relieue;
And labours with her might and maine,
His wearied limbes to strength againe.
Now when Alcides found at length,
That still he did renew his strength
By vertue of the touched earth
His mother, whence he tooke his birth.
Stand now (quoth he) and trust no more
As thou didst to the earth before:
I will restraine thee from that hope,
Within my armes shall be thy scope.
Thy heft shall stay vpon my breast,
Here is the place that thou shalt rest.
And with that word aloft him hent,
That struggling to the earth-wards bent.
But there the ground no whit auailes
Her childs crusht chest, whom death assailes.
Thus did Alcides gird him fast,
Vntill his chine he brake at last.
And now deaths pangues, with crazie cold
On all his limbes did lay sure hold.
Thus he a long time did him straine,
Ere he would let him fall againe.
This combate hath beene since the cause,
From whence our Countries ancient sawes,
Admiring this great Gyants fame,
Vnto his mother gaue his name.
But since a name of greater grace,
Was giuen vnto this hilly place
By Scipio, that braue Roman knight,
That did by valor and by might,
Constraine the hostile Punicke powers
Home to returne from Latium bowers.
And here when first the Lybicke land
He did inuade,, his campe did stand:
And in this place still may you see
Where ramparts and huge trenches bee;
So as the fields did first of all,
Vnto the Roman conquest fall.
From him he casts his Lyons skinne,
That in Cleonea he had slaine:
Antæus likewise did refraine
To weare his Lybicke Lyons spoyle.
Then Hercules, the soueraigne oyle
Vpon his brawny limbes infusd,
That in Olympian games he vsd.
But now Antæus (earst so stout)
His proper force began to doubt;
And therefore stretcht himselfe at length
Vpon the sands, that gaue him strength.
Now with their hands they hand-fast take,
And fiercely doe their straind armes shake:
Then did they long (but all in vaine)
Each other by the collars straine,
And brow they doe confront to brow,
Which neither of them both would bow:
But each of them did muse to see
One that his equall match could bee.
Alcides yet forbare to show
His vtmost vigor on his foe:
But vrg'd him so with cunning slight,
That out of breath he puts him quight;
Which by oft panting he exprest,
With cold sweat trickling downe his breast.
Then both their necks with straining shakes
Breast against breast resistance makes,
154
About each others thighes they twine.
Then doth Alcides leaue that hold,
And fiercely both his armes did fold
About Antæus bending waste,
And wringing girds his bowels fast;
Whilst he his foot with skill did slide
Betwixt his shankes, and made him stride.
Then with an in-turne following that,
Vpon his backe he threw him flat.
The parched earth the sweat receaues,
And vnto him new force bequeaues:
Fresh blood reuiueth euery vaine,
His sinowy necke grew strong againe.
His ioynts more firme and nimble were,
And with such force himselfe did beare,
That all that Herc'les did before,
His body now annoy'd no more.
Herewith Alcides grew amaz'd,
And on this strength increasing gaz'd,
For he was not so much affright,
When he did with that Hydra fight,
That new heads for his old could dight,
In the Inachian plashie fenne,
Though he were but a stripling then.
Long doubtfully did they contend:
One trusts the strength the earth did lend;
Th' other did on the vertue rest
That lodg'd within his manly breast.
His bitter step-dame neuer had
Such cause as now her hopes to glad,
In seeing him so hard bestad:
For now she sees his limbes to sweate,
And his strong shoulders starke with heate,
Whereon he wonted was to beare
The burthen of the starry spheare.
But now againe he did begin
His armes about his foe to cling,
Which when Antæus did perceaue,
He straight vnto the earth did cleaue,
155
And all the helpe the earth could giue,
Her sonne therewith she did relieue;
And labours with her might and maine,
His wearied limbes to strength againe.
Now when Alcides found at length,
That still he did renew his strength
By vertue of the touched earth
His mother, whence he tooke his birth.
Stand now (quoth he) and trust no more
As thou didst to the earth before:
I will restraine thee from that hope,
Within my armes shall be thy scope.
Thy heft shall stay vpon my breast,
Here is the place that thou shalt rest.
And with that word aloft him hent,
That struggling to the earth-wards bent.
But there the ground no whit auailes
Her childs crusht chest, whom death assailes.
Thus did Alcides gird him fast,
Vntill his chine he brake at last.
And now deaths pangues, with crazie cold
On all his limbes did lay sure hold.
Thus he a long time did him straine,
Ere he would let him fall againe.
This combate hath beene since the cause,
From whence our Countries ancient sawes,
Admiring this great Gyants fame,
Vnto his mother gaue his name.
But since a name of greater grace,
Was giuen vnto this hilly place
By Scipio, that braue Roman knight,
That did by valor and by might,
Constraine the hostile Punicke powers
Home to returne from Latium bowers.
And here when first the Lybicke land
He did inuade,, his campe did stand:
And in this place still may you see
Where ramparts and huge trenches bee;
So as the fields did first of all,
156
Curio is pleasd that he hath found
The chance of such a lucky ground,
And thinkes the fortune of the place
His warre with like successe would grace,
As it had done that noble Peere
Scipio, that earst incamped heere.
And therefore on this happy land,
His haplesse tents he causd to stand:
Too loosely he doth range his host,
And of these hilles the vantage lost.
Then with vnequall force doth goe
To dare a mighty armed foe.
In Affricke all the Roman bands
That seru'd, were vnder Varus hands;
Whose Latium forces might suffice,
Yet he seekes all the best supplies
That Lybicke kingdome would affoord,
And subiects were to Iuba's sword:
Who farre and neere his force did raise,
And so his standard he displaies.
In all that continent no King
Could so great powers together bring.
His Territory from the west,
Where Atlas mount neere Gades doth rest
Begins, and so forth Eastward runnes
Vnto the Syrtes, where Ammon wonnes:
And then in bredth takes all that cost,
Whose lands the Torrid Zone doth tost;
With those vaste kingdomes stretcht a farre,
That bounded with the Ocean are.
Vnto his Campe repaired these,
The Nation of Antololes,
The vagrant fierce Numidæans,
The still prepar'd Getulians
That doe vnarmed horses ride.
Then Moores, whose skins are cole-black dy'd
The Nasamons that riches wants,
And all the parched Garamants.
The Marmaryds so swift of foote,
With Maxans, that as strongly shoote
Those darts that from their armes they throw,
As Medes can shafts out of a bow.
And those Massilians that bestride
Their horses bare-back't when they ride,
And neuer doth a bridle need,
But with a wand can guide his steed.
The hunting Aphers, that did vse
No steady dwelling house to chuse,
But rang'd in Tents from place to place,
As they pursue the Lyons chase;
And trusts not to their headed speare,
But with their clokes his eyes will bleare,
And nothing do his raging feare.
The chance of such a lucky ground,
And thinkes the fortune of the place
His warre with like successe would grace,
As it had done that noble Peere
Scipio, that earst incamped heere.
And therefore on this happy land,
His haplesse tents he causd to stand:
Too loosely he doth range his host,
And of these hilles the vantage lost.
Then with vnequall force doth goe
To dare a mighty armed foe.
In Affricke all the Roman bands
That seru'd, were vnder Varus hands;
Whose Latium forces might suffice,
Yet he seekes all the best supplies
That Lybicke kingdome would affoord,
And subiects were to Iuba's sword:
Who farre and neere his force did raise,
And so his standard he displaies.
In all that continent no King
Could so great powers together bring.
His Territory from the west,
Where Atlas mount neere Gades doth rest
Begins, and so forth Eastward runnes
Vnto the Syrtes, where Ammon wonnes:
And then in bredth takes all that cost,
Whose lands the Torrid Zone doth tost;
With those vaste kingdomes stretcht a farre,
That bounded with the Ocean are.
Vnto his Campe repaired these,
The Nation of Antololes,
The vagrant fierce Numidæans,
The still prepar'd Getulians
That doe vnarmed horses ride.
Then Moores, whose skins are cole-black dy'd
The Nasamons that riches wants,
And all the parched Garamants.
The Marmaryds so swift of foote,
157
Those darts that from their armes they throw,
As Medes can shafts out of a bow.
And those Massilians that bestride
Their horses bare-back't when they ride,
And neuer doth a bridle need,
But with a wand can guide his steed.
The hunting Aphers, that did vse
No steady dwelling house to chuse,
But rang'd in Tents from place to place,
As they pursue the Lyons chase;
And trusts not to their headed speare,
But with their clokes his eyes will bleare,
And nothing do his raging feare.
Neither did Iuba raise his Mart,
Onely regarding to take part
With one side in this ciuill fight,
But was drawne on with priuate spight.
For Curio in his Tribunes time,
That had committed many a crime
Against the Gods, and humane right,
Did practise then with all his might,
By his owne Tribunitian law,
King Iuba's realme from him to draw:
And to disgrade him from the Throne,
By true discent that was his owne.
VVherein thou didst thy power display,
VVhen Rome gaue thee too great a sway.
Iuba remembring this abuse,
Did of this warre make priuate vse,
Hoping thereby that vncontrold
He should his crowne more freely hold.
The fame of this offended king
VVith feare in Curios Campe did ring:
For most of all the troopes he led,
In Cæsars Armes were neuer bred;
Nor in those Gallicke warres were train'd,
Nor with their blood the Rhene had stain'd.
But from Corfinium garrison
They were with-drawne when it was wonne.
And to new leaders bare small trust,
As they to former were vniust,
Still thinking to doe what they lust.
When therefore Curio plainly saw
Base feare their mindes did ouer-awe;
Whereby the trenches euery night
Were barely man'd by sluggish fright:
And that his Souldiers day by day
From out the trenches fled away:
His minde these ill presages mates,
And with himselfe he thus debates.
Daring attempts doe couer dread:
My Ensignes therefore I will spread,
And with my Souldiers take the field,
Whilst they to me obedience yeeld:
For Idlenesse breeds mutiny,
But action voids conspiracy.
Whilst that the valiant minde is prest,
And sees the sword against his breast,
His helmet then doth shelter shame;
He leasure wants to scorne, or blame
His Captaines will; or to compare
How martiall causes ordered are.
But on which part in armes he stands,
There he imployes his hired hands.
So do the fencers, for rewards
Expose their skill and ventrous guards
Against their riuals in their fight,
Not led thereto with ancient spight.
But when they meet, their force they straine,
Which of them shall the conquest gaine.
This when he had revolu'd in minde,
He to the field his hoast design'd.
And Fortune giues him one faire day,
Whom afterwards she did betray.
For he in battaile Varus meetes,
And with such force his Army greets;
As that he made him turne his face,
Put him in rout, and gaue him chase;
Who neuer turn'd his face againe,
Vntill his Campe did him constraine.
Onely regarding to take part
With one side in this ciuill fight,
But was drawne on with priuate spight.
For Curio in his Tribunes time,
That had committed many a crime
Against the Gods, and humane right,
Did practise then with all his might,
By his owne Tribunitian law,
King Iuba's realme from him to draw:
And to disgrade him from the Throne,
By true discent that was his owne.
VVherein thou didst thy power display,
VVhen Rome gaue thee too great a sway.
Iuba remembring this abuse,
Did of this warre make priuate vse,
Hoping thereby that vncontrold
He should his crowne more freely hold.
The fame of this offended king
VVith feare in Curios Campe did ring:
For most of all the troopes he led,
In Cæsars Armes were neuer bred;
Nor in those Gallicke warres were train'd,
Nor with their blood the Rhene had stain'd.
But from Corfinium garrison
They were with-drawne when it was wonne.
158
As they to former were vniust,
Still thinking to doe what they lust.
When therefore Curio plainly saw
Base feare their mindes did ouer-awe;
Whereby the trenches euery night
Were barely man'd by sluggish fright:
And that his Souldiers day by day
From out the trenches fled away:
His minde these ill presages mates,
And with himselfe he thus debates.
Daring attempts doe couer dread:
My Ensignes therefore I will spread,
And with my Souldiers take the field,
Whilst they to me obedience yeeld:
For Idlenesse breeds mutiny,
But action voids conspiracy.
Whilst that the valiant minde is prest,
And sees the sword against his breast,
His helmet then doth shelter shame;
He leasure wants to scorne, or blame
His Captaines will; or to compare
How martiall causes ordered are.
But on which part in armes he stands,
There he imployes his hired hands.
So do the fencers, for rewards
Expose their skill and ventrous guards
Against their riuals in their fight,
Not led thereto with ancient spight.
But when they meet, their force they straine,
Which of them shall the conquest gaine.
This when he had revolu'd in minde,
He to the field his hoast design'd.
And Fortune giues him one faire day,
Whom afterwards she did betray.
For he in battaile Varus meetes,
And with such force his Army greets;
As that he made him turne his face,
Put him in rout, and gaue him chase;
Who neuer turn'd his face againe,
159
These heauy newes abrode were blowne,
That Varus now was ouer-throwne:
VVhich when to Iuba's eares it came,
He was well pleased with the Fame,
Presuming that this warfare stayes
For him, thereof to win the praise.
And therefore secretly ordain'd
Great force, which he with speed retain'd
For this exployt, by him conceald
With charge it should not be reueald.
He onely fear'd that his intent
His foe would fearefully preuent.
Sabbura was the second man
That ruled all his kingdome than;
And vnto him he did commit
A little troope that he thought fit
To march before, and with no moe
Into the field to tyce his foe:
Pretending that vnto his hands
He had committed all the bands:
Meane while the King with his huge Traine,
Lay hidden in a hollow plaine.
So doth the Serpent, enemy
Vnto the Aspicke, hidden lye,
And with a subtile shadow drawes
Him neere vnto his murdring iawes:
And when the Aspicke nought suspects,
He suddenly his head reflects,
And with his teeth the throate doth squise,
Not where the lurking poyson lies;
And therewithall this vermin dies.
VVho then his venom forth doth cast,
But all in vaine, and all in wast.
So fraud sits now in Fortunes lappe,
For Curio haught with his late happe,
Did not forecast the deepe deceit
Of his strong foe, that lay in wait.
But ouer-night he giues in charge
That all his horse-troopes should enlarge
Themselues, and range the fields about;
And in the morning he drawes out
From forth his Campe, his armed bands,
Who in the field imbatteld stands.
Yet he was warn'd (but all in vaine)
That close his campe he should containe,
And wary be of Lybicke baytes,
And of the Punycke warres deceytes.
But Destinies resistlesse date,
Gaue vp this yong man to his Fate.
And now this ciuill warre betraid
Him, that her first foundation laid.
His troopes and Ensignes he displayes,
And leades them ouer rocky wayes;
Which when his enemy espyde,
From hilles a farre where they recide;
With fraud they seeme (as men affright)
To make retrait in open sight;
Vntill thereby they could procure
Their foe to leaue a place so sure,
And strong, as those high mountaines were;
And that the Army did not feare
To range it selfe in martiall wise,
Where as the open Champian lies.
Now Curio thought his foes did flye,
And did not their deuice descrye;
But as a Conquerour, in haste
His Army in the fields he plac't.
And then the Lybicke guile brake out:
For those that fled but for a stout,
With horse-men ceiz'd the hilles about;
And with huge troopes they did enclose
On euery side, their Roman foes.
That Varus now was ouer-throwne:
VVhich when to Iuba's eares it came,
He was well pleased with the Fame,
Presuming that this warfare stayes
For him, thereof to win the praise.
And therefore secretly ordain'd
Great force, which he with speed retain'd
For this exployt, by him conceald
With charge it should not be reueald.
He onely fear'd that his intent
His foe would fearefully preuent.
Sabbura was the second man
That ruled all his kingdome than;
And vnto him he did commit
A little troope that he thought fit
To march before, and with no moe
Into the field to tyce his foe:
Pretending that vnto his hands
He had committed all the bands:
Meane while the King with his huge Traine,
Lay hidden in a hollow plaine.
So doth the Serpent, enemy
Vnto the Aspicke, hidden lye,
And with a subtile shadow drawes
Him neere vnto his murdring iawes:
And when the Aspicke nought suspects,
He suddenly his head reflects,
And with his teeth the throate doth squise,
Not where the lurking poyson lies;
And therewithall this vermin dies.
VVho then his venom forth doth cast,
But all in vaine, and all in wast.
So fraud sits now in Fortunes lappe,
For Curio haught with his late happe,
Did not forecast the deepe deceit
Of his strong foe, that lay in wait.
But ouer-night he giues in charge
That all his horse-troopes should enlarge
160
And in the morning he drawes out
From forth his Campe, his armed bands,
Who in the field imbatteld stands.
Yet he was warn'd (but all in vaine)
That close his campe he should containe,
And wary be of Lybicke baytes,
And of the Punycke warres deceytes.
But Destinies resistlesse date,
Gaue vp this yong man to his Fate.
And now this ciuill warre betraid
Him, that her first foundation laid.
His troopes and Ensignes he displayes,
And leades them ouer rocky wayes;
Which when his enemy espyde,
From hilles a farre where they recide;
With fraud they seeme (as men affright)
To make retrait in open sight;
Vntill thereby they could procure
Their foe to leaue a place so sure,
And strong, as those high mountaines were;
And that the Army did not feare
To range it selfe in martiall wise,
Where as the open Champian lies.
Now Curio thought his foes did flye,
And did not their deuice descrye;
But as a Conquerour, in haste
His Army in the fields he plac't.
And then the Lybicke guile brake out:
For those that fled but for a stout,
With horse-men ceiz'd the hilles about;
And with huge troopes they did enclose
On euery side, their Roman foes.
This Curio somewhat did amaze,
His hope-lost troopes stood at a gaze;
Yet sought they not for feare to flye,
Nor strong enough with force to try.
Their tired horse, when Trumpets sound,
Would neither snoring bray, nor bownd:
Nor with their hoofes the earth would stamp,
Nor straine their bridles whilst they champe
The foamy bits, nor creasts vp-reares,
Nor with a courage pricke their eares.
Nor striue amongst the thronging troope,
But all fore-spent, their heads down droope.
And crest-falne smoking in a sweat,
Their mouthes are dry, and parcht with heat.
Their tongues do hang below their iawes,
Hoarse grones they send from out their maws
With thick drawne winde they puffe & pant,
Their flankes doe rise, and breath doe want.
And all their bits were smeared ore
With dusty dryed frothy gore.
So as they hardly could be got
With whips or wands to keepe a trot.
Nor yet with often stroke of spurre
Could they at last be made to sturre.
It nought auailed him that rides,
To rent and teare their bloody sides.
His pace he would not so aduance,
With force thereof to breake a launce;
Which greatly did the foe auaile,
For they the while did them assaile
Aloofe with darts as thicke as haile.
His hope-lost troopes stood at a gaze;
Yet sought they not for feare to flye,
Nor strong enough with force to try.
Their tired horse, when Trumpets sound,
Would neither snoring bray, nor bownd:
Nor with their hoofes the earth would stamp,
161
The foamy bits, nor creasts vp-reares,
Nor with a courage pricke their eares.
Nor striue amongst the thronging troope,
But all fore-spent, their heads down droope.
And crest-falne smoking in a sweat,
Their mouthes are dry, and parcht with heat.
Their tongues do hang below their iawes,
Hoarse grones they send from out their maws
With thick drawne winde they puffe & pant,
Their flankes doe rise, and breath doe want.
And all their bits were smeared ore
With dusty dryed frothy gore.
So as they hardly could be got
With whips or wands to keepe a trot.
Nor yet with often stroke of spurre
Could they at last be made to sturre.
It nought auailed him that rides,
To rent and teare their bloody sides.
His pace he would not so aduance,
With force thereof to breake a launce;
Which greatly did the foe auaile,
For they the while did them assaile
Aloofe with darts as thicke as haile.
Now when the ranging Aphers prest
In with their troopes amongst the rest,
Their trampling steeds so beat the ground,
That all the hill therewith did sound.
And therewith raisd such dusty smokes,
That all the aire it dimmes and chokes.
Like as when the Bistonian blasts,
With rage whole hilles of sands vp casts;
VVhich in such clouds aloft doe rise,
As that they dimme and darke the skies.
No sooner now their raging Mart
Vpon the foot they did conuart,
But that the fight was out of doubt.
Death spent the time amongst the rout.
Forward at all they could not presse,
Nor vse their Armes in this distresse.
So were they compast round with foes,
That roome they want to deale their blowes.
Their speares held vpright in their hands,
Were throng'd together in whole bands.
So heapes of foes their helpe confounds,
Neither fall they alone with wounds,
And bloud; but this them death affoords,
The clouds of darts, and weight of swoords.
And then for last refuge of all,
The troopes now left that were but small,
Into a little orbe did fall.
And those that vtmost bare the stresse,
If they into the midst would presse
For feare, thereby reliefe to gaine,
Hardly escap't, but there was slaine.
This battail'd Orbe now grew so thicke,
And did so close together sticke,
And foot to foot so pressing stands,
They could not vse their martiall hands.
Their thronged bodies spare prest,
That arm'd, they crush each others breast.
The conquering Moore did not delight
So much to heare of their hard plight,
That Fortune prostrates to his might;
Not hauing seene the bodies slaine,
Nor how the streames of blood did draine,
Nor that the limbes bestrewd the land,
For now the Orbe so thicke was mand,
That bodies dead vpright did stand.
Thus Fortune sends new slaughtred wights
To please Carthagoes enuious sprights:
The sacrifice of this braue Host,
May well appease the thirsty ghost
Of bloudy Hanniball, and those
That Punicke warres hath made our foes.
But (O yee Gods) this Roman spoyle
That now is made on Libicke soyle,
To Pompey cannot yeeld content,
The Senate will this wracke lament.
Let Affricke thereof make her gaines,
Whose fields our Latium blood distaines.
When Curio saw his hoast in rout,
And that their blood so stream'd about,
As that therewith the dust was laid,
And with the gore the land beraid;
His heart could not endure the sight
Of his poore mens distressed plight,
Nor would he saue himselfe by flight.
But on his foes he prest amaine,
And so amongst his Troopes was slaine.
He now disdaines longer to liue,
Valour to him his end did giue.
In with their troopes amongst the rest,
Their trampling steeds so beat the ground,
That all the hill therewith did sound.
And therewith raisd such dusty smokes,
That all the aire it dimmes and chokes.
Like as when the Bistonian blasts,
With rage whole hilles of sands vp casts;
VVhich in such clouds aloft doe rise,
As that they dimme and darke the skies.
No sooner now their raging Mart
Vpon the foot they did conuart,
But that the fight was out of doubt.
Death spent the time amongst the rout.
Forward at all they could not presse,
Nor vse their Armes in this distresse.
162
That roome they want to deale their blowes.
Their speares held vpright in their hands,
Were throng'd together in whole bands.
So heapes of foes their helpe confounds,
Neither fall they alone with wounds,
And bloud; but this them death affoords,
The clouds of darts, and weight of swoords.
And then for last refuge of all,
The troopes now left that were but small,
Into a little orbe did fall.
And those that vtmost bare the stresse,
If they into the midst would presse
For feare, thereby reliefe to gaine,
Hardly escap't, but there was slaine.
This battail'd Orbe now grew so thicke,
And did so close together sticke,
And foot to foot so pressing stands,
They could not vse their martiall hands.
Their thronged bodies spare prest,
That arm'd, they crush each others breast.
The conquering Moore did not delight
So much to heare of their hard plight,
That Fortune prostrates to his might;
Not hauing seene the bodies slaine,
Nor how the streames of blood did draine,
Nor that the limbes bestrewd the land,
For now the Orbe so thicke was mand,
That bodies dead vpright did stand.
Thus Fortune sends new slaughtred wights
To please Carthagoes enuious sprights:
The sacrifice of this braue Host,
May well appease the thirsty ghost
Of bloudy Hanniball, and those
That Punicke warres hath made our foes.
But (O yee Gods) this Roman spoyle
That now is made on Libicke soyle,
To Pompey cannot yeeld content,
The Senate will this wracke lament.
Let Affricke thereof make her gaines,
163
When Curio saw his hoast in rout,
And that their blood so stream'd about,
As that therewith the dust was laid,
And with the gore the land beraid;
His heart could not endure the sight
Of his poore mens distressed plight,
Nor would he saue himselfe by flight.
But on his foes he prest amaine,
And so amongst his Troopes was slaine.
He now disdaines longer to liue,
Valour to him his end did giue.
What can the Rostrum thee auaile?
Or Forum now, when Fates assaile?
What boots it, that in thee it lay
The armed peoples willes to sway?
What profits it thy voyce did draw
The Senate to infringe the law?
Whereby the Father and the Sonne,
This hatefull ciuill warre begunne.
Sith thou to death thy date must yeeld,
And shalt not see Pharsalia's field:
Where these great Captaines, led with rage
To battailes chance, their states engage.
For crosse-bent Fate denies to thee
The issue of these warres to see.
So you disturbers of the state,
Make your owne selues a prey to fate;
And pay the price with your owne blood,
For which you sold the common good.
O happy Rome! couldst thou but finde
Thy Citizens so iust and kinde,
As that the Gods their mindes would moue,
Rather to cherish and to loue
The publique freedome of the state,
Then to reuenge their priuate hate.
O noble Curio 'tis thy meed,
The rau'ning Libicke fowles to feed;
For to thy lot will neuer fall
The honor of a funerall.
But yet our lines might merit blame,
To silence that which for thy name
Deserues to be in brasse inchast,
That with all ages it might last.
I yeeld this therefore to thy spirit,
The due commend that it did merit.
Rome neuer bred a greater wit,
That did within the Rostrum sit:
Nor more did dignifie the lawes,
Whilst thou didst stand for iustice cause.
But after Pride and Luxurie,
With auaritious Briberie,
Possest the head-strong wils of youth;
They swamme in streames that led to ruth.
So with the times things changed then,
That age corrupt, corrupted men;
And Curio blasted with the rest,
Was chiefest cause of Romes vn-rest.
For Cæsar did his minde inthrall,
With golden gifts of conquered Gaule.
Though Sylla's power, and Marius wrath,
And Cinna's rage bred Roman scath;
Though Cæsars ancient noble line,
With glory long did sway and shine:
Yet for all this, their swords lack't might
To frame a tyranny out-right:
They all did still attempt with gold,
To purchase Rome, which Curio sold.
Or Forum now, when Fates assaile?
What boots it, that in thee it lay
The armed peoples willes to sway?
What profits it thy voyce did draw
The Senate to infringe the law?
Whereby the Father and the Sonne,
This hatefull ciuill warre begunne.
Sith thou to death thy date must yeeld,
And shalt not see Pharsalia's field:
Where these great Captaines, led with rage
To battailes chance, their states engage.
For crosse-bent Fate denies to thee
The issue of these warres to see.
So you disturbers of the state,
Make your owne selues a prey to fate;
And pay the price with your owne blood,
For which you sold the common good.
O happy Rome! couldst thou but finde
Thy Citizens so iust and kinde,
As that the Gods their mindes would moue,
Rather to cherish and to loue
The publique freedome of the state,
Then to reuenge their priuate hate.
O noble Curio 'tis thy meed,
The rau'ning Libicke fowles to feed;
For to thy lot will neuer fall
The honor of a funerall.
164
To silence that which for thy name
Deserues to be in brasse inchast,
That with all ages it might last.
I yeeld this therefore to thy spirit,
The due commend that it did merit.
Rome neuer bred a greater wit,
That did within the Rostrum sit:
Nor more did dignifie the lawes,
Whilst thou didst stand for iustice cause.
But after Pride and Luxurie,
With auaritious Briberie,
Possest the head-strong wils of youth;
They swamme in streames that led to ruth.
So with the times things changed then,
That age corrupt, corrupted men;
And Curio blasted with the rest,
Was chiefest cause of Romes vn-rest.
For Cæsar did his minde inthrall,
With golden gifts of conquered Gaule.
Though Sylla's power, and Marius wrath,
And Cinna's rage bred Roman scath;
Though Cæsars ancient noble line,
With glory long did sway and shine:
Yet for all this, their swords lack't might
To frame a tyranny out-right:
They all did still attempt with gold,
To purchase Rome, which Curio sold.
Finis Libri quarti.
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