The Second Punick War Between Hannibal, and the Romanes ::

The Second Punick War Between Hannibal, and the Romanes

The whole Seventeen Books, Englished from the Latine of Silius Italicus: with A Continuation from the Triumph of Scipio, To the Death of Hannibal. By Tho: Ross

Ross, Thomas

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[Could Hannibal, and Scipio, in whom]

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A CONTINUATION OF SILIUS ITALICUS TO The Death of HANNIBAL, In Three BOOKS

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Aut Prodesse solent, aut Delectare Poetæ.
Horat.

[Could Hannibal, and Scipio, in whom]

Could Hannibal, and Scipio, in whom
All the vast Hopes of Carthage, and of Rome,
Were fix'd, Revive, and see how eas'ly You,
By Your sole Virtue, Kingdoms can Subdue;
How from the Rage of War, without the Stain
Of Blood, You Sacred Crowns, and Triumphs gain:
They would no more contend, who best might claim
Priority; but yield it to Your Name.
Rome would her Gen'ral, Carthage Hers refuse,
And jointly You the World's Commander chuse.

Tho: Ross.

TO THE KING'S MOST SACRED MAJESTIE.

TO THE KING.

Had Fortune plac'd You on a peacefull Throne,
Had not Rebellion made Your Virtues known
(As Stormy Nights, and Dark Eclipses, may
Set greater Value on a Fairer Day)
Posterity had onely understood,
That You, like Your Great Ancestours, were Good,
And Just; that, under You, the Church, and State
Flourish'd, and seem'd above their present Fate.
But then, when Hell, and Earth, had Must'red all
Their Forces, to procure Your Father's Fall;
When Trait'rous Hands had seiz'd upon Your Crown;
When all Our Rights, and Laws, were trampled down;
Temples to Stables turn'd; Our Flamens fly,
Or else, for Victims, on their Altars dy;
All Holy things prophan'd: That You, alone,
(As when the Arrian Heresie was grown
Too strong for Truth, and in one Holy Breast
Religion dwelt, exil'd from all the rest)
Have 'gainst these Cruel Storms a Bulwark stood,
And (like the Great Restorer, when the Flood

O'reran the Universe) an Ark prepare,
To which all such, as Good, and Loyal are,
For Safety flie; had ne're been known to Fame,
And still this great Addition to Your Name
Had been conceal'd, and, after Your Decease,
The Good, but Easie, Titles of a Peace,
Had been Your sole Renown: but now we see,
What You in Peace, what You in War can be;
With what an equal Temper You can stand
The Shocks of Fortune, and Your Self command.
So that by You the Old instructed are
To live, the Young the worst of Fate to dare.
Hence all, but such, as are with-held by Charms
Of Wealth, or Rebels, that now fear Your Arms,
Come from all Quarters of the World, in You
Their Present Happiness, their Future, view.
Our Church within Your Walls, alone, can keep
Her Rites, and recollect her scatter'd Sheep.
Within Your Breast the Archives of the Law
Are safely lodg'd, and thence we hope to draw
Those Streams of Justice, that (as sacred Nile
Swells, and makes fruitful the Ægyptian Soil)
Shall England Happy make, that, now, with War,
As rudely looks, as if hot Sirius Star
On it, in stead of Libya, only shed
Its Flames, and Men, worse then her Monsters, bred.
None then can justly of their Fate complain,
That are Exil'd, unless You there did Reign.
You are our onely Wealth; and whether You
Auster's, or Boreas Frozen Kingdoms view;
Or should You to America repair,
Or t'other Indies bless: whereer'e You are,
All, that are Good, will follow You, and all,
That Place their Home, that Place their Countrey call.

But, Oh! (me thinks) I see, with squallid Locks,
Poor England, rear her Head above the Rocks,
And this great Blessing beg, That She may be
Eas'd of her Chains, and, by Your Conquest, Free.
Go then (Great Prince) go; may propitious Gales
Still wait upon You, and extend Your Sails!
Those, that from Tyrannie their Native Land
Redeem, in Fame's large Temple Greater stand,
Then those, whose Forein Conquests Trophies rear.
Such the Camilli, such the Decii were,
Whose Names, in Story, are more Sacred far,
Then theirs, that, happy in Invasive War,
Brought Western Gold, and Eastern Spices home:
These did Enrich, but those Preserved Rome.

Such (Sacred Prince) be Your Return! May We
Such Your Success, and such Your Triumphs see!
As when the Phœnix, in his Parent-Nest
Reviv'd, in Triumph from the Spicie East
Returns, and Offers, on the Pharian Coast,
Due Sacrifice to his Paternal Ghost;
While all the Birds of Night, and those of Prey,
Into the Deserts fly, to give him way.
But a more Noble, and Obsequious Train
Their King attend, and Ægypt, wanting Rain,
Sees Father Nilus Flow, without Excess,
Or'e all the Land, and give a rich Encrease,
Without their Labour. May You then repair
The Ruins of Your Throne, and, sitting there,
Restore to Us again an Age of Gold;
While Your Blest Father may, from Heav'n behold,
Himself in You, as Great, as You are Good,
And all due Expiations for his Blood
On Rebels made. While all, that now for Fear,
Or Interest with them Comply, when there

They You behold, shall then, repenting, come,
And justly from Your Mouth attend their Doom.
When France shall tremble, and the Swede shall run,
Fearing Your Arms, yet further from the Sun.
And Victory, attending on Your Hand,
Wheree're Your Ensigns flie, shall take her Stand,
Resolv'd to fix with You, and shall devest
Her self of Wings, to Plume Your radiant Crest.
And then those Wounds, those Ills, which We before
So much lamented have, We will Adore.

Martial. ad Silium; Lib. 4. Epigr. 14.

Sili, Castalidum Decus, &c.

Silius, who art the Muses Fame,
Who the fierce perjur'd Africk's Name,
And crafty Hannibal's (Rome's Foes)
Mak'st yield to th'greater Scipio's,
With thy commanding, pow'rful Stile,
Thy severe Looks lay'd by a while,
Whilst loose December now abounds
With cogging Dice, and Boxes sounds,
And wanton Lots fly round the Board,
Thou to my Lines some Time afford.
But (pray) thy smooth, not knitted Brow,
To this my looser Mirth, allow.
So soft Catullus Sparrow might,
Appear in our great Virgil's sight.

SILIUS ITALICUS OF The Second Punick VVar.

The First Book.

The Argument.

At nine Years Old, Young Hannibal doth swear,
At th'Altar, to maintain the Romane War;
His Father, leading into farthest Spain
The Libyan Armie, is in Battel slain:
Him Hasdrubal, in chief Command, Succeeds;
Who, Hate Contracting by his cruel Deeds,
By a poor Slave's revengefull Hand doth fall:
Then Hannibal, elected General,
Breaks Faith with Rome, and to Sagunthus brings
His Arms, whose famous Siege the Poet sings.

I sing those Arms, by which Rome's Glory swell'd
To Heav'n, and Haughty Carthage was compell'd
To bear Oenotrian Laws. My Muse, relate
Hesperia's Toils: how many Men, how Great,
Rome bred, of Old, for War. When Cadmus Seed
Perfidiously infring'd their Sacred Deed,
And, strugling for Command, did War imbrace.
While Fortune long was doubtfull, where to place

The Empire of the World. The Tyrian Lords
Thrice with Successless Arms, and Impious Swords,
The Senate's Peace, and League, which they had sworn
To Jove, first broke. And, while, with Fury born,
Each Nation mutual Ruin did contrive,
They, to whom Fate the Victory did give,
Were nearest to their Fall. The Phrygian Powers
In Triumph enter Carthaginian Towers.
Rome's Palaces Sidonian Troops surround;
While onely in her Walls she Safety found.
The Cause of so great Rage, and Hate, with Care
Bequeathing to their Nephews endless War,
Let me relate, and their dark Counsels scan,
The Source of so great Stirs, which thus began.

Long since, when Dido fled her Native Land,
Polluted by her Brother's Impious Hand,
By Chance, on Libya's fatal Coast she falls,
And, on her purchas'd Land, erects new Walls,
With a Bull's-Hide, in Thongs divided round,
Encompass'd, and set out the measur'd Ground.
Here Juno (as the Antient Story goes)
Neglecting Argos, and Mycenæ, those
Belov'd, and pleasant Seats, desir'd to build
Eternal Mansions for her dear Exil'd.
But, when She saw Rome raise her lofty Head
So high, and, crossing Seas, her Eagles spread
Through all the World; mov'd by a Jealous Fear,
She the Phœnicians fill'd with Thoughts of War.
But these, at first, repress'd, and having lost
Their high Attempts on the Sicanian Coast,
Again she Arms prepares: One Captain may
Suffice Her to embroil the Earth, and Sea.
And He was Hannibal; who now puts on
All Her dire Fury: Him She dares alone

Ev'n 'gainst the Fates oppose. When, Joy'd to finde
A Man so bloody, casting in her Minde
The Ills, that She would bring on Italy;
Shall that Dardanian Fugitive (said She)
His Troy, and Houshold-Gods, twice Captivate,
In Spight of Me, to Latium translate?
And, for the Trojans, Latine Scepters found?
Ticinus, rather may thy Banks abound
With slaughter'd Romanes; and my Trebia's Flood
Swell, through the Celtick Plains, with Trojan Blood;
And Troubled Thrasimenus backward fly,
Affrighted at the Streams of Purple Dy.
So I may see Hesperian Cannæ Crown'd
With Bodies, and in Blood the Vallies drown'd;
And Thee, swift Aufidus, incertain where
To leave a Ford, when as no Banks appear,
Lab'ring o're Arms, and scatter'd Limbs, thy Way
To break into the Adriatick Sea.

This said; the Youth, who nothing else desires,
But Broils, and War, with Martial Thoughts she fires.
Faithless, repleat with Guil, Unjust was He,
And, when once arm'd, contemn'd the Deity,
Valiant, but Cruel, hating Peace, and fir'd
With a strange Thirst of Humane Blood, desir'd,
Then, in His pride of Youth, to wipe away
His Father's Stains, and i'th' Sicilian Sea
To drown all Leagues, Juno, with Hope of Praise,
Inflames his Heart, to which His Soul obeys.
Now in His Dreams, He seems to break into
The Capitol, and o're the Alps to go:
Oft in His troubled Sleep, rising by Night,
With horrid Cries His Servants Hee'd affright;
Who found Him, bath'd in Sweat, His future War
To wage, and beat with Rage the empty Air.

This Fury, against Italy abus'd,
While yet a Childe, his Father had infus'd,
Born of the Noble Barcean Race, deriv'd
From ancient Belus. For, when first, depriv'd
Of her Sichæus, Dido fled from Tyre;
The Belian Youth, t'escape the Tyrian's Ire,
Join'd to her Train, resolved to embrace
Her Fate, and Fortune: from that Noble Race,
Amilcar, fam'd for Valour, claim'd Descent,
And, studious former Hatred to foment,
Soon as his Son could speak, and Words exprest,
Kindled the Romane War within His Breast.

Amidst the City, circled by a Grove
Of shady Yew, that did all Light remove,
A Temple stood, built to Eliza's Ghost,
And dreadfull held through all the Tyrian Coast.
Here (as 'tis said) the Queen with Her own Hand,
Her self from Grief absolv'd: sad Statues stand
Of Father Belus, and, in Order, all
His Off-Spring, with Agenor, whom they call
The Glory of their Line, Phœnix, whose Fame,
Gave to that Land, an everlasting Name.
At length, Eliza joined to her Lord
For ever; at Her Feet the Phrygian Sword:
Next unto these twice fifty Altars stand,
Built to the Gods, that Heav'n, and Hell command:
Clad in a Stygian Vest with scatter'd Locks,
The Priestess, here, Ennæa's Power invokes,
And Acheron: when from the trembling Ground,
Sad Murmures breaking, through the Temple sound,
And Flames from the unkindled Altars rise:
Then, rais'd by Magick Songs, with horrid Cries,
The wandring Ghosts fly through the hollow Air;
While Dido, in her Marble, sweats for Fear.

Hither comes Hannibal, commanded by
Amilcar; who observ'd with Curious eye
His Face, and Gesture. Him no Horrid Rites
O'th' Place, nor mad Massila's Fury frights,
Nor the dark Pavement stain'd with Blood, nor Flames
Arising at the sound of Horrid Names.
Stroaking his Head, his Father kiss'd him, chears
His early Courage, and thus fills his Ears.

An unjust Nation, sprang from ruin'd Troy,
With their harsh Leagues do Cadmus Sons annoy:
If Fates deny the Honour should be Mine,
To wipe off this Disgrace, may it be Thine.
Think on a War may Italy destroy:
And may the Tyrrhene Youth (my warlike Boy)
Thy Rising dread; and teeming Mothers fear
Their Children to produce, if Thou appear.

Mov'd by this Language, He replies. By Sea,
And Land, so soon as Years will suffer Me,
With Fire and Sword the Romanes I'le pursue,
And what Rhetæan Fates decree undo.
Neither the Gods, nor Leagues forbidding War,
Tarpeian Rocks, nor Alps shall Me debarr.
This my Resolve by Mars I swear, and by
Thy Ghost, great Queen. This said, to Hecate
Falls a black Victime: the Priestless enquires
The trembling Entrails, as the soul expires.
And when (as Custome was) with Art the mind
O'th' Gods she had explor'd, she thus Divin'd.

Th'Ætolian Plains I see with Armies fill'd,
And Lakes, that with Idæan Blood are swell'd.
What mighty Bodies climb unto the Skie
By Rocks; on whose high top thy Camp shall lie?
Now from the Hills the furious Army falls
Into the Plains, and now the trembling Walls

In smoak are lost. I see Sidonian Flames
Through all Hesperia shine, and bloody Streams
Mix'd with Eridanus. Even He, that bare
To Jove the third Opimous Spoils of War,
Lyes dead on heaps of Arms and Men; his face
Retaining still its fierceness. But, alass!
What Tempests do with suddain storms arise;
While, from the gaping Heav'n, swift Lightning flies?
The Gods Great things intend, I see even Jove
Engag'd in War, and Thunder from above.
The silent Entrails now no more reveal'd;
But Juno all the Fates to come conceal'd.
Dangers, and tedious Labours are behind.
So keeping in his breast the War design'd;
While to remotest Gades he doth lead
His Troops, and at Alcides Pillars spread
His Getick Ensigns, slain in fight, in pride
Of all his hopes, the Tyrian Captain dy'd.

Him Hasdrubal succeeds: whose Reign begun
In that rich Land, where the declining Sun
Stoops to the Ocean: whose Tyrant-sway
Th'Iberi, and Beticolæ obey.
Of a dark Soul, implacable was He,
The fruit of whose Command was Cruelty;
His Thirst of Blood unquenchable appear'd,
Esteeming it an Honour to be fear'd:
This Rage known Torments could not satiate.
And thus, while He both Gods and Men forgate,
Tagus of antient Race, and noble Fame
For Beauty, and for valiant Acts, (his Name
Deriv'd from Golden Tagus, and bewail'd
Through all Iberia;) on an Oak impail'd,
He shews in triumph to's sad Peoples eyes,
A King deprived of his Obsequies.

Content with his own Bounds, he nor requir'd
Mæonian streams, nor Lydian Pools desir'd,
Nor those rich Vales, where liquid Gold doth flow,
And Hermus with the Sand doth yellow grow.
He first the Fight began, and last withdrew:
And when, with's fiery Steed, he broke into
The Ranks, no Sword, no Spear, could him withstand;
But in both Armies, with his Conqu'ring hand,
Tagus in golden Arms by all was known.
Whom when his Servant saw impail'd upon
The fatal Oak, deform'd; snatching a Sword
From's side, esteem'd by his lamented Lord,
Into the Tyrant's Tent he suddain prest,
And pierc'd, with num'rous wounds, his cruel Brest.

Grief, now, and Rage, the Tyrian Camp divide,
And all their thoughts to sad Revenge apply'de.
Some Fire, some burning Brass, some Racks prepare,
And some with Rods his bleeding Body tear.
All busie hands in various Torments chuse
Their part: some deadly Poyson do infuse;
Others the gaping Wounds with Flames do fill.
And (what was terrible to see, or tell,)
While with all art of Cruelty each Limb
Was stretcht; that Bones in liquid Flesh did swim,
And Marrow, mix'd with Blood, in smoak did rise:
His Courage still was firm, and did despise,
And scorn their Torments; or as he had been
A safe Spectatour onely, and had seen,
Not felt, what they inflict, the Slave disdains
His fainting Executioners; complains
They're dull, and stoutly for the Cross doth call.

'Midst these despised pains, the General
Thus lost, the trembling Armie with one voice,
And cry, on Hannibal streight fix their choice.

The Image of his Father's Valour, Fame
Of the War vow'd against the Romane Name,
His young and active Courage, noble Heat,
His Eloquence, and mind arm'd with Deceit,
Procured this Applause. And, first of all,
The Libyan Troops salute him General;
Next these, the Pyrenæan People; than
The warlike Bands of the Iberian.
When streight a Confidence of this Command
Enflames his soul: as if the Sea and Land,
Where Auster rules, or where the Lamp of Day
In Cancer lodg'd tormenteth Libya,
Or Asia did submit; or He beheld
A third part of the World Obedience yield.

His Bounds were where Fam'd Nilus sees the Day
First rise, and with seven Streams invades the Sea.
But where they milder look to either Bear,
Wash'd by th'Herculean-sea, the Plains appear
Of fertile Europe, from the neighb'ring Hills:
All the vast Tract beyond the Ocean fills.
Nor will huge Atlas suffer that his Name
Farther extend: Atlas, whose Neck the Frame
Of Heaven doth prop: Whose clouded Head doth all
The Stars support; which, that withdrawn, would fall.
The Winter of un-melting Frost, and Snow,
Dwells on his Beard; upon his lofty Brow
A Grove of Pines, that cast Eternal shade;
His Temples by the Winds are hollow made;
And Rivers from his misty Jaws descend
In Froth; and both his sides with Seas contend:
Which, when his panting Steeds the weary Sun
Doth drench in smoaking Waves, do seem to drown
The Chariot. But where parch'd Africk's Fields
Appear, the barren Earth no Harvest yields;

But Serpents, with fell Poison charg'd; yet where
The Soil is bless'd with a more temperate Air,
Nor Pharian, nor Ennæan Plains excell.

Here the Numidians insulting fill
One quarter of the Camp: no use they know
Of Bridles; but, when Horses swiftest go,
Them, with a Wand, between their Ears apply'd,
As with the Reins, or Curbs, at pleasure, guid.
A warlike Nation, that in Wars delight;
Yet trusting more to Fraud, then open Fight.
The Spanish Troops another part contain'd;
Aids, by his valiant Father's Trophies, gain'd
From Europe: whose fierce Horse with neighing fills
The Plains, and swiftly climbs th'encamped Hills:
(Not Mars through Thracian Fields more furious drives)
A Nation fierce, and prodigal of Lives,
Willing to hasten Death: for, when their Prime
Of years is over-past by conqu'ring Time,
Scorning decay of Strength, or Age, to know,
Bear in their hands their Fate. Here Metals grow
Of matter mixt, Electrum's Pallid Veins
Produc'd, and darker Steel the Earth conteins:
But God those Springs of Mischeif deeply hides;
Yet Astur, covetous, the Earth divides,
And, in her mangled Entrails drown'd again,
Returns with Gold, and bears the Pretious Stain.
Hence Durius, and rich Tagus, with thy Streams
Contend, Pactolus, and that Flood, that seems
To bring up Lethe to the People, and
Upon the Gravii rolls the Glistering Sand.
A Land where Ceres, and Lyæus too
Do dwell, and Olive-Trees in plenty grow.

These Nations, now, reduc'd to the Command
Of Warlike Hannibal, and in his Hand

The Reins of Rule: streight with his Father's Arts
He makes his Party; now with Arms subverts
Decrees of Senate, now with Bribes; appears
The first to walk on Foot; the first, that bears
A part, if haste require, a Trench to make;
The first, that all Attempts would undertake:
Remiss in nothing, that to Honour tends;
Refuseth nature Rest, and watchfull spends
The night in Arms. Now, by his Cassock known,
Mix'd with the Libyssæan Foot, lies down
On th'Earth, contending with the Steel he wore
In Hardness: sometimes he'd Advance before
His num'rous Troops; and, with a valiant Hand,
Perform in Person, what he did Command:
Sometimes, on his bare Head, he'd entertain
The Ruins of the Heav'ns; their Storms, and Rain.
The Tyrians saw, th'Asturians did admire
To see, when Jove did dart his forked Fire,
When Thunder fell in Storms, and every Blast
Of Wind struck forth the Flames, how bold he past
Through all, on's snorting Steed: nor would retire,
Though clog'd with Dust, and scorch'd with Sirius fire.
And, when the sultry Air did frie with Heat,
That parch'd the Earth, they seem'd Effeminate,
Who sought a Shade: while He, to exercise
His Thirst, where er'e he sees a Fountain, flies,
His sole Delight's, to dress a furious Horse
For War, and to be famous for the Force
Of's killing Arm: to swim a Stream unknown
Or'e Ecchoing Rocks: t'assail the Foe, upon
The adverse Bank. The first, that would ascend
To scale a Wall, and, when he did contend
In open Fight, where er'e his Sword did go,
It carried Death, and Streams of Blood did flow.

Being therefore, now, resolv'd to violate
The Sacred League, he urgeth on his Fate.
And, where he can, on Rome's Allies doth fall,
And storms in farthest Lands the Capitol.

His waving Ensigns (first displai'd for love
Of greater Wars) against Sagunthus move.
The Walls, first built by Hercules, not far
From Sea, upon a rising Hill appear.
Whose noble Name Zacynthus, there by Fate
Entomb'd upon the Top, did consecrate.
He, among others of Alcides Train,
Return'd to Thebes, the fam'd Gerion slain.
Three Souls that Monster did inform, three pair
Of Hands, his Head a triple Neck did bear.
Earth ne'r beheld another could survive
One Death, to whom the Fates three Lives did give.
Yet here the Conqu'rour shew'd his Spoils: and, as
In Heat of day the Captive Heards did pass
Unto the Springs, a Serpent, kick'd by chance,
Big with enflaming Poison, did advance
His tumid Jaws, and by a deadly Wound
Lay'd the Inachian dead on Spanish Ground.
About that time, an exil'd Colonie,
Born in an Island of the Grecian Sea,
Came from the South, and by Zacynthus there
To Ithaca's Dominions added were.
The Daunian Youth, wanting a dwelling, then
Rich in their Numbers, led by Valiant men,
Sent from a City, which we Ardea term,
Arriv'd, their weak Beginnings to confirm.
These, by Agreement with the Romane State,
Having their Liberties inviolate,
And Honour of their Ancestours, forsook,
What they had long endur'd, the Tyrian Yoak.

Against these, therefore, his incensed Bands,
Breaking the League, fierce Hannibal commands:
Disturbs their Peace with Arms. Shaking his Head,
Himself high-mounted on his panting Steed,
Surveys the Walls; and, when he had beheld
The trembling Houses, Summons them to yield
Their Gates, and Forts: tells them; That Italie,
Their Leagues, and hop'd-for Aids, far distant be;
Nor should his Mercy meet them, if subdu'de
By Arms: That all the Senate could conclude,
Their Laws, and Statutes, nay their Gods, and Faith,
Were now within his Power. And what he saith,
Confirms by's Javelin thrown against the Walls:
Which on Caïcus, vainly threat'ning, falls;
And through his Arms his Body pierc'd. He slain,
And tumbling from the Rampart, brings again
To the insulting Conquerour his Dart,
Reeking in Blood, and trembling in his Heart.
The rest th'Example of the General
With Shouts pursue; and streight obscure the Wall
With a dark Cloud of Darts. Nor was their clear
Valour in Number lost: each man doth bear
Himself against the foremost; as if he,
Alone, would undertake the Enemie.
Here one the Sling with frequent Jerks doth ply;
Which, waved thrice about his Head, lets flie
A Weapon with the Winds; which in the Air
Is lost, to sight. Huge Stones another, there,
Flings from his sinewy Arm: this doth advance,
And from the slippery nouse expells a Lance.
But Hannibal, before all other, rich
In's Father's Arms, now flings, with flaming Pitch,
A smoaking Lamp; then hurls his Javelin; now,
With Stakes, and Stones, doth press upon the Foe:

Or poison'd Arrows sends, and doth applaud
Insulting, as they flie, his Quiver's fraud.
Such Shafts the Daci, on the Getique Coast,
Steep'd in the Poison of their Countrie, boast,
And by the Banks of two-nam'd Ister shoot.

But now it is decreed, and they, about
The Hill, their horned Bulwarks raise; and, round
The City, armed Towers do abound.
Oh Faith, by ancient Times ador'd, which now
On Earth, we onely by thy Name do know!
The Valiant Youth resolved stand, and see
All hope of Flight cut off; their Walls to be
Begirt with Arms: yet think a noble Death,
Most worthy Rome. And that, Sagunthus Faith
By them preserv'd, she might more Glorious fall,
Then stand: they now more resolutely all
Their Strength collect. Then from contracted Strings
Stones of vast Bulk the Phocæan Engine slings:
Or, changing weight, whole Trees with Iron bound
Ejects; that, breaking through, the Ranks confound.
A Shout both Armies raise, and furious come
To Blows; as if they had besieged Rome.
Among so many thousands, that did stand,
Circled in Arms, like Corn on fertile Land;
Bold Hannibal, desirous to enspire
Into his Armie's minds that furious Fire
Was lodg'd in his own Breast, doth thus excite
Their Rage, and Stimulates the following Fight.

Do we stand still before a Captiv'd Foe?
Asham'd we have begun? Asham'd to go
On with this O men? goodly Valour! Shall
These be the first-Fruits of the General?
Must we fill Italie with such a Fame?
Premise such Fights as this? Go on, for shame.

This said, with Fury they invade the Wall,
On which they leave their Hands, and backwards fall.
With that in haste a Mount was rais'd, above
The Town, whereon the Fighting Squadrons move.
But with an Engine, that by many hands
Was mov'd, the brave Besieg'd, the thronging Bands
Drive from the Gates. It was a mighty Oak,
Strange to behold; which, for defence, they took
From th'Pyrenæan Hills. This, strongly lin'd
With num'rous Pikes of Steel, could hardly finde
By Walls, resistance; and about besmear'd
With Sulphur, and with unctious Pitch, appear'd
Like an huge Thunder-bolt, and from the Walls
Of their high Arcenal it swiftly falls,
Cutting with trembling Flames the yielding Air;
(So Comets, running with their bloody Hair,
From Heav'n to Earth, cast a Prodigious light)
And with a furious Force, that did affright
Ev'n Hannibal, upon the Armie flies,
Tossing their smoaking Members to the Skies:
Till, fix'd to a vast Tower, the active Flames,
Through the raw Hides, consume the mighty Beams.
And there, in burning Ruins, both the Men,
And Arms involves. The Carthaginians then,
Grown wise by loss, through secret Mines convey
Their Troops, and so the City open lay.
That labour of Great Hercules, the Wall,
To th'Earth, with noise incredible, doth fall;
And in its Ruin Stones immense doth roll,
That Eccho from the Alps unto the Pole.
So airy Rocks, torn from their Native side
By Storms, with horrour do an Hill divide.
The Breach was soon, with Heaps of Bodies slain,
Obstructing their Advance, supply'd again.

Amidst those Ruins, both with equal Rage
Do meet; before the rest, in's prime of Age,
Murrus, ennobled by a Latine Line,
Himself a Greek, his Mother Sagunthine;
Whose Parents, in a Sacred League combin'd,
Dulichian Nephews to Italian joyn'd.
He, as stout Vaidus his Companions calls
Aloud unto the Fight, upon him falls,
And wounds him, where unarm'd he did appear,
Between his Cask and Corslet; with his Spear
Stopping his bold Attempts: and, as he lies
Prostrate upon the Ground, insulting cries;

Th'art down, false Carthaginian: surely thou,
As Conquerour, didst fancy foremost now
To climbe the Capitol: but, what could move
Such bold Desires? Go, war with Stygian Jove.

Then, as Iberus fiercely did advance,
To succour him, fix'd in his Thigh his Lance:
And, spurning Vaidus dying Face, quoth he;

This to the Walls of Rome your Way must be,
O fear'd, and valiant Hands! you all must tread
This Path, whither soe're your Haste doth lead.

And, as Iberus labour'd to renew
The Fight, his Target seis'd, and pierc'd him through
His naked Side. Iberus, rich in Land,
And Flocks, unknown to Fame, could well command
His Dart, and Bow, against a flying Beast:
Happy in's Private life, had he possest
Those Weapons still, within his Father's Groves.
To succour him with speed now Ladmus moves:
On whom bold Murrus grimly smiling, Thou
(Said he) shalt tell Amilcar's Shade below;
That this right-Hand, after the Vulgars fall,
Shall give you for Companion Hannibal:

Then, rising high, with's Sword on's Helmet struck,
Which, through the very brasen Cover, broke
His cracking Scull. Then Chremes, who his Hair
Unshorn, like to a Cap, on's Brow did wear:
With Masulus, and Harcalo, though old,
Yet not unfit for War; who with a bold
And fearless Hand, a teeming Lyoness
Would stroke: then Bragada, whose Shield's Impress,
A River's Urn: Hyempsal, who the Wrack
Of Ships from dang'rous Sands would boldly take,
As Spoils, from raging Seas: these sadly all,
Slain by his fatal Hand, together fall:
And with them Atyr, skilfull to disarm
Serpents of Poison, whose sole Touch could charm
To sleep the banefull Adder, and apply
The Cerast, all suspected Broods to try.
And thou Hyarba, Garamantick, born
By Oracular Groves, thy Helmet, like an Horn,
Bending about thy Temples, there wer't slain;
Accusing Jove, and Destinies, in vain,
That often falsly thy Return express'd.

But now with Bodies slain the Heap encreas'd,
And with the yet-warm Streams of slaughter smoaks;
While Murrus to the Fight aloud provokes
The General: as when, pursu'd by cries
Of Spartan Dogs, a Boar the Forest flies,
And, met by Hunters, on his Back doth rear
The Ensigns of his Rage, and his last War
Attempts, and, as his foamy Blood he eats,
Groaning, his Tusks against their Javelins beats.

But in another Quarter, where Despair
Had forc'd the Youth to sally, free from fear,
That any Hand, or Dart, could work his fall,
Raging amidst the Troops was Hannibal:

And shakes his Sword, that was, not long before,
With Fire enchanted, on th'Hesperian Shore,
Made by Old Temisus; whose pow'rfull Skill
Could temper, with his Charming Tongue, the Steel.
So, in Bistonian Plains, the God of War
Brandish'd his Sword; when, in his Iron Car,
The Titans he pursu'd; or, with the Breath
Of's Steeds, and Noise of's Wheels, extinguisheth
The Flames of War. Hoscus, and Pholus, now,
Lygdus, and Dirius, to the Shades below,
By him were sent. To them Galesus fair;
The Twins, Chronus and Gyas, added were:
With Daunus; who all other did excell,
In Pleading at the Bar, and by his Skill
(Though a most Just Observer of the Laws)
Still gain'd the Hearers minds unto his Cause.
But, furiously, with Rage transported, now,
This Language adds, as he his Darts doth throw;

Whither, proud Carthaginian, will the Spite,
And Fury, of thy Father, thee incite?
Here are no Fabricks, by a Womans Hand
Erected, purchas'd with a Price; or Land
To Exiles measur'd, by an Oxe's Hide:
Here the Foundations of the Gods abide,
And Romane Leagues. While thus he, boasting, speaks;
With a fierce Charge, the Carthaginian breaks
Into the fighting Ranks, that him surround,
And seising on him Captive, having bound
His Hands upon his Back, commands him strait,
In slowly-killing Pains, to meet his Fate.
Then bids his Ensigns to Advance; and, through
The Heaps of Slaughter'd Men, the Way doth shew,
Exciting all by Name; and gives away,
Sure of Success, the City, as their Prey.

But now, inform'd by some, that Fled, that Heaven
To Murrus, in another Part, had given
The Day with Victory, enrag'd, he flies
Like a fierce Tiger, and that Enterprize
Forsakes: while, as he goes, his Helmet seems,
Upon his Head, to cast forth killing Beams.
As when a Comet, with its fiery Hair,
A Kingdom frights, and scatters through the Air
Its Bloody Flames; which, as they issue forth,
With Horrour, threaten Ruin to the Earth.
The Ensigns, Arms, and Men, unto his Rage
Give way; and, as he, Furious, doth engage,
Both Armies tremble: while his Spear ejects
A Light, prodigious; that round reflects,
Like Lightning, on his Shield. As when the Waves,
Swelling up to the Stars, while Corus raves
On the Ægæan-Sea, hang in the Air;
Filling th'affrighted Sea-mens Hearts with Fear:
And roaring, Thunder-like, as they encrease,
Toss, to and fro, the trembling Cyclades,
Within their hollow Bosoms. Him, not all
The Darts, that do invade him, from the Wall;
Nor Flames, cast at his Face; nor Stones, by Art,
Excuss'd from mighty Engines, could divert.
Soon as a shining Crest he did behold,
And, by the Sun's reflection, Arms of Gold,
Besmear'd with Blood, look red; enrag'd, he saies.

See Murrus, who Our great Attempts delaies,
And Libya's Affairs: I'le make Thee know,
What thy Iberus, and vain Leagues can do.
Keep still your Laws, Faith, Justice: but (said he)
Leave your deceived Deities to Me.

Murrus replies; Th'art Welcome. My desire
To Combate Thee, long since, did burn like Fire,

In hope to have thy Head: receive what's due
For all thy Fraud, and under Ground pursue
Thy Way to Italy; to thee this Hand
Shall a long Journey give to th'Trojan Land,
And Alps, and high Pyrene, crown'd with Snow.

This said, perceiving his approaching Foe,
From the high Breach, a firm, and weighty Stone,
With all his Strength, he takes, and hurls it down,
As he Advanc'd, and in its speedy fall
Oppress'd him, as if stricken with the Wall.
Shame fires his Thoughts; nor, still wont to prevail,
Though check'd, did then his conscious Valour fail.
Gnashing his Teeth, he labours to ascend
The Wall, through all the Darts, that it defend:
But when he nearer shin'd, and stood upon
The Rampart, all the Tyrian Troops came on,
And compass'd Murrus round, who all the Host
Amaz'd, and soon among his Foes was lost.
A thousand Hands, and Swords, together shine,
Unnumber'd waving Crests on Casks decline.
Loud Shouts, and Clamours, from all Quarters came,
As if Sagunthus all were in a Flame.
Murrus, his Limbs, with instant Death possess'd,
Drags after him, and these Last words express'd.

Alcides, Thou, who first these Walls didst rear,
Whose Sacred foot-steps we inhabite here,
Avert this Storm, which menaceth our Land;
If I defend not with a sluggish Hand
Thy Walls. And looking up (as thus he pray'd)
To Heav'n, Shall not our bold Attempts (he said)
More justly favour'd be, Great Hercules?
Unless our emulous Valour thee displease.
For, not unlike thy self, when Mortal, Me
Thou shalt acknowledg. Then propitious be,

Thou God, that first didst waste unhappy Troy.
Me rather, who the Reliques will destroy
Of th'Phrygian Race, (said Hannibal) assist.
And, as he spake, with all his Fury prest
His Sword through Murrus. Troubled at his Fall,
The Youth run in; his Arms, and Corps, by all
Well known, were to the Conquerour deni'de,
For Spoil: the Troops encrease on either side,
And stand all in an Heap; while Stones rebound
'Gainst Helmets, & while Spears 'gainst Targets sound.
Some hard'ned Stakes do throw, some pond'rous Lead,
By which the Crest's divided on the Head,
And Glory of the Plumes in Slaughter fall.
And now the Rivulets of Sweat o're all
The Libyan's Members flow; on ev'ry Scale
Stand barbed Arrows, in his Coat of Mail.
No Rest, no Shelter left to shun a Blow:
His Knees decline, and weary Shoulders bow
Under his Arms. Then, from his parched Jaws,
His Breath like Vapour breaking forth, he draws
Deep sighs, and Groans, that check'd by panting throws,
A broken Murmur through his Helmet goes.
His Courage his Adversity outvies,
Perswading Virtue, then to exercise
Her Strength, when Fortune frowns: and so outweighs
Dangers, by th'Glory of ensuing Praise.
A suddain Noise, among the Clouds, breaks forth
From the divided Heav'n, and shakes the Earth.
Jove, over both the Armies, thund'red twice;
Then, in an horrid Whirl-wind, in the Skies,
Shak'd the revengfull Lance of unjust War,
And couch'd upon his adverse Thigh the Spear.
Ye, Rocks Tarpeian, where Powers Divine
Reside! and Trojan Flames, that ever shine

On Virgin Altars! what great things (alass)
To you, by that fallacious Meteor, was
Promis'd by Heav'n? for, had it nearer been
Oppos'd against their Rage, we ne'r had seen
A Passage through the Alps; nor Allia
Should (Thrasimenus) to thy Streams give way.
But Juno, on Pyrene's Top, from far,
Beholding his so early Heat, in War,
And fruitless Onset, pulls his falling Spear
From the hard Bones, where it did first appear.
He hiding with his Shield the Blood, that swims,
Diffus'd in Streams, upon his wounded Limbs;
Fainting, with slow, and doubtfull Steps, retires.

The Night, at length, arrives to their desires,
And both the Earth, and Sea, in darkness hides,
And, putting Day to flight, the Fight decides.
But their resolved Minds still watch, with Care,
And, lab'ring in the Night, the Breach repair.
Extremities of Danger do incense
Their Thoughts, and Courage; which takes Violence
From their Despair. Hence Men oppress'd with Age,
Women, and tender Children, all engage
To help, and in that dubious State of things,
With his yet bleeding Wounds, the Souldier brings
Stones to the Work: the Senatours their share
Partake, and Nobles, in the Publick Care.
They meet, and chosen Men exhort, with Pray'rs,
To succour their deplorable Affairs,
And from Sagunthus Walls to drive away
The Tyrian Flames. Now, go, with speed (say they)
And, while the wounded Tyger is restrain'd,
And shut within his Den, their Ships ascend.
A speedy Diligence is best in War;
The way to Honour is, where Dangers are.

Haste ye, these antient Walls, that can no more
Defend us, and our Faith, at Rome deplore.
Come home with better Fates: in brief, Return,
Before in Funeral Flames Sagunthus burn.
With this sad Charge to the next Shore they hie,
And or'e the Seas with swelling Canvase flie.

Now Tithon's rosie Wife had Sleep exil'd,
And with her Horses early neighing fill'd
The Misty Hills, and shook her Reins, with Dew
Surcharg'd: when from the Walls the Youth did shew
Their high-built Tow'rs; that there by Night had bin
Erected, and the City compass'd in.
All Action's lay'd aside; the Souldier's sad;
The Siege declines; that Heat stands still, that had
So Active been; and, in that Danger, all
Their Cares are turn'd upon the General.

The Rutuli, by this, the Seas had crost,
Beginning now to see th'Herculean Coast,
And Cloud-encompass'd Rocks, that to the Skies
From the Monœcian Hills aspiring rise.
Here Thracian Boreas his Imperial Seat
Maintains: and, always Cold, sometimes doth beat
Upon the Shore; sometimes, with roaring Wings,
Cleaves ev'n the Alps; and, when himself he flings
Over the Earth, from the still-Icie Bear,
No other Winds against him dare appear.
With whirling Blasts, the Ocean is broke
Into divided Waves, that rise in Smoak,
And hide the Hills from sight: then, as he flies,
Heaves Rhene, and Rhodanus, unto the Skies.

When this dire Fury of fierce Boreas they
Had scap'd, th'alternate Dangers of the Sea,
And their sad War, and dubious Success
Of things, with frequent Sighs they thus express.

Dear Countrey! Faith's renowned Temple! where
Are now thy Fates? do yet thy Tow'rs appear
Sacred on Hills? Or, of so Great a Name,
Do Ashes, the sad Reliques of a Flame,
Onely remain; ye Gods? Oh! fill our Sails
With gentle Winds, and give us prosp'rous Gales;
If that our Temples Roofs the Fire invade
Not yet, or Latian Ships can lend us Aid.

In such Complaints, they, Day and Night, deplore
Their State; untill on the Italian Shore
The Ship arriv'd: where Father Tyber, made
More rich by Anyo's Waters, doth invade
With Yellow Waves the Sea. From thence they come
Unto the Walls of their own-kindred, Rome.
The Consul calls a Solemn Council; where
Fathers of unstain'd Poverty appear:
Whose worthy Names do from their Triumphs rise.
A Senate, that in Virtue equalize
The Gods: such Men, as valiant Acts to Fame
Commend; whom just Desires of Right enflame:
Their Beards, and Hair, neglected on their Brow;
Their Hands familiar with the crooked Plow;
Content with little: Hearts, whom no desire
Of Wealth torments; who, often, did retire
To their small Lares, in Triumphal Cars.
But, at the Temple-Gates, the Spoils of Wars,
Their Captiv'd Chariots, and Weapons stain'd
With Blood, Opimous Spoils, which they had gain'd
From Generals, with Axes terrible
In Fight; then Bars of Gates, whose Cities fell
Under their Fury; Targets, pierced through
By Darts, and Swords, hang up: and here they view
Ægathes War; Ships scatter'd on the Sea,
Whose Stems, there hanging, Testimonials be

Of Libya's vanquish'd Fleet: the Helmets here
Of curled Senones are fix'd; and there
The Sword, the Judg of their redeeming Gold:
With these, the honour'd Trophies of the bold
Camillus, and his Arms, in Triumph borne
(The Gauls now all repuls'd) at his Return:
Here were the Spoils of great Æacides;
And Epirotick Ensigns: among these,
Dreadfull Ligurian Crests, with the rude Shield
Of Spain, and Alpine Gesa, they beheld.
But, when the Ruins they had born, and fear'd,
As written in their Squallid Looks appear'd,
So, that Sagunthus Image seem'd to stand,
Before their Eyes, and their Last Aid demand;
Grave Sycoris, with Tears, began, and saith.

Ye, Romanes, famous for your sacred Faith;
Whom justly all the Nations, that give place
Unto your Arms, acknowledg Mars his Race;
Think not, that we have measur'd o're the Sea,
For Dangers light. Our Walls, and Countrey, we,
Besieg'd, and falling, saw: and there, whom wilde
Beasts, or the raging Seas, brought forth, beheld,
Fierce Hannibal. Far from these Walls, Oh! far,
Keep him, ye Gods, I pray: and to our War
Confine his dreadfull Hand. What mighty Beams
He hurls? How Strong, how Great in Arms he seems?
Over Pyrene's Hills he makes his Way,
And, scorning that Iberus Flood should stay
His Speed, he listeth Calpe, in his Bands,
With those, that dive in Nasamonian Sands;
And seeketh greater Walls: that, if the Sea,
Whose Rage we lately felt, shall cease to be
His Bar, into your Cities he will break.
Think you, this desp'rate Youth would undertake

The charge of so great Broils, and violate
With Arms your League, or thus precipitate
By Vows into a War; onely to give
Sagunthus Laws, or Us of Life deprive?
Oh! haste, suppress the rising Flame, for fear
The Danger prove too strong for tardy Care.
Or, though you have no Terrours of your Own,
Nor yet the Seeds of War, which he hath sown,
Appear: can your Sagunthus be deny'd
An helping Hand, so near in Blood ally'd?
All the Iberi, Galli, all that are
Still thirsting under Libya's fiery Star,
Under his Ensigns march. We pray you, by
Th'ador'd Beginnings of the Rutuli,
Laurentine Houshold-Gods, and by these dear
Pledges of Mother Troy, with speed prepare
To Aid our Pietie, who are compell'd
For poor Acrisionean Walls to yield
Tyrinthian Tow'rs. You nobly did contend
'Gainst a Sicilian Tyran, and defend
Campanian Walls; and, once, to have expel'd
The Samnites strength, was a great Honour held,
Worthy Sigæan Ancestours. I call
To Witness you Eternal Fountains, all
That, from Time's birth, live in Apulia,
And close Numician Rools: when Ardea,
(Too happy then) first sent her Youth abroad,
With Turnus Altars, for a new Abode;
That they, beyond Pyrene's Hills, with care,
All the Laurentine Deities did bear.
Why then, as Members from the Body torn,
Or else cut off, should we expect your Scorn?
Or why should We, descended of your Blood
Be now opprest, because w'have firmly stood

Unto your Leagues? Thus, having ended all
Their sad Complaints (a wofull Sight) they fall,
Spreading their Squallid bodies on the Ground.

The Senate strait consult, and, as they, round,
Their Votes do pass, bold Lentulus, who seems
Ev'n then to see Sagunthus fall in Flames,
Adviseth; That they instantly demand
The Youth be punish'd, and to waste the Land
Of Carthage, with a suddain War, if they
Refuse. But Fabius, who did wisely weigh
Future Events, in Dubious affairs
Not too Elate, who would not stir up Wars
On Light occasions, and well was Skill'd
To manage them, yet not engage a Field,
Gravely advis'd; In matters of that Weight.
Not to be Rash: but try, if't were the Hate,
And Fury, of the General had mov'd
Those Arms; or if the Senate them approv'd:
That some be sent, who truly might Relate
The State of things. This, as fore-knowing Fate,
And providently pond'ring in his Breast
The rising Broils, wise Fabius exprest.
As when, at Stern, a Skilfull Pilot finds,
By Signs, some future Danger in the Winds,
Contracts, unto the reeling Yard, the Sails.
But Tears, and Grief, with Anger mix'd, prevails
With all, to hasten on the hidden Fates:
And, from the Senate, chosen Delegates
Are to the Gen'ral sent; and, if he stand
Deaf to the League, in Arms, have in Command,
To turn to Carthage City, and declare
'Gainst them, who had forgot the Gods, a War.

The End of the First Book.

The Second Book.

The Argument.

Embassadours from Rome, to Carthage sent,
Young Hannibal's deserved Punishment,
For Violation of the League, demand:
'Gainst Hannibal, for them, doth Hanno stand.
The Carthaginians doubtfull to declare
What they intended; either Peace, or War,
Stout Fabius offers, and to Rome returns.
In voluntary Flames Sagunthus burns:
And, to deprive the Conqu'rour of the Spoil,
The People, and their Wealth, compose the Pile.

The Latian Ship, o're the Herculean Seas,
The Senate's grave Commands, with Speed, conveys,
And some chief Senatours. Wise Fabius: who,
Descended of Tirynthian Race, could shew
Three hundred Ancestours, that, in one Day,
The cruel Storms of War had cast away;
When Fortune, that unequally withstood
Their Labours, stained with Patritian Blood

The Banks of Cremera. An equal Share,
With him, in Cares, Publicola did bear;
Who did from Spartan Volesus descend,
And (as his Name imports) the People's Friend,
The Romane Fasces, as His Grand-fire, bore.
When Hannibal first heard, that these, before
The Port, arriv'd, bringing Decrees of State;
That now (amidst the Flames of War) too late,
Forsaken Peace demanded, and withall,
The Punishment of Him, the General,
Included in the League. He strait commands
His threatning Ensigns, and his armed Bands,
To shew, along the Shore, their Targets, stain'd
With Blood, and Swords, that late in Slaughter reign'd:
And cries, There's now no Place for Words; you hear
The Tyrrhen Trumpets sounding ev'ry where,
And Groans of Dying Men. While yet they may,
'T were best, they would return unto the Sea;
Unless they long to be besieg'd. All know
What Armed men, in Heat of Blood, may do:
How lawless Anger is, and what drawn Swords
Will dare to Act. By these His threatning Words
Repuls'd, from the inhospitable Shore,
They haste to Carthage with the lab'ring Oar;
While he, to Animate the Army, rails,
And thus pursues the Vessel, as it sails:
Prepares that Ship to carry o're the Sea
My Head? Alass! Blind Souls, and Hearts, that be
Proud with Successes! Doth your Impious Land
Arm'd Hannibal to Punishment demand?
I'le come, ne're ask it: you enough of Me
Shall have, e're you Expect, and that proud She,
Which now doth Forein Gods defend, ev'n Rome,
Shall fear for her own Gods, and Gates, at Home.

Although you climb Tarpeian Rocks again,
Or in your Capitol, immur'd, remain:
No Gold your captiv'd Lives shall dis-engage.
Their Minds incensed by his Words, and Rage
Join'd to their Arms, soon Clouds of Arrows, round,
The Skies obscure; and ecchoing Tow'rs resound
With Storms of Stones: all prosecute the Fight;
While yet the flying Ship remains in Sight,
And views the Walls. But still the General,
His Wounds discov'ring, on his Troops doth call
For promis'd Piacles; and fills the Air
With new Complaints. We, we (Companions dear)
Demanded are. See Fabius from the Poop
Shews, in Contempt, our Chains, and we must stoop
To the proud Senate's Wrath. If you repent
Of what's begun, or our just Arms intent
Be worthy Blame: the Romane Ship from Sea
Recall, I care not; come, deliver Me
Enchain'd unto the Wrack: for why should I,
Born of Eöan Belus Race, deny
To be their Slave? Although so many Hands
Of valiant Libyan, or Iberian Bands
Circle me in? No, let the Romane State
For ever rule, and Ensigns propagate
To ev'ry Age, and Nation: let us dread
Their Words, and Frowns. This said, deep Sighs are spread
Through all the Camp, and all convert their Hate
Against Æneas Race, and stimulate,
With Shouts, their Rage. Among the Num'rous Throngs
Of un-girt Libyans, and diff'rent Tongues,
Fierce in the War against the Romane Name,
Hasbyte with Marmarick Ensigns came,
Sprang from Hyarba Garamantick. He,
Of Ammon born, Medusa's Caves, that be

In Phorcas Isles, Cyniphian Mace, and
Sun-burnt Battiades, did once command;
With Nasamon, and Barce ever-dry,
And Autololian Woods, and Shores, that ly
Near Treach'rous Syrts; Getulians, that ride,
Swift, without Bridles. His first beauteous Bride
The Nymph Tritonis was: from whence the Queen
Her Stock did boast; That Jove himself had been
Her Grand-sire, and in Groves, fore-telling Fate,
The Names of her great Ancestours relate.
She, still accustom'd to a Virgin-Bed,
In Hunting, and in Woods, her Life had led;
The Basket, or the Distaff, to her Hands
Unknown; She Hunting, and thy Virgin-Bands
(Diana) lov'd, and with Her Heel t'impell
The running Steed, or flying Beast to kill:
As when, disdaining Getes, and Cicones,
Or Rhœsus Family, or Bistones
With Moon-like Arms, a Troop of Amazons
Through the Pangæan lofty Forest Runs;
O're Thraeian Rhodope, or Hebrus Plains.
She, by her Countrey's Habit known, restrains,
With Fillets of fine Gold, her flowing Hair.
Her right-side to the Fight exposed Bare,
Her left a Thermodoantiack Shield,
Bright as the Sun, defends. Thus through the Field,
Shaking the smoaking Axel-tree, she runs
With rapid Speed; while her Companions,
Some in light Chariots, by two Horses Drawn:
On Horse-Back some, that Venus Rites had known,
With a more Num'rous Virgin-Troop, their Queen
Attend. But She still in the Van is seen,
Proud to expose to View her Fiery Steeds,
(Chosen among the Best-her Countrey Breeds)

And, as about the trampled Field she scowrs,
Flings wounding Darts, into the highest Tow'rs.

But Mopsus, not enduring to behold
Her, at the Walls so frequent, and so bold,
Through the moist Air Gortynian Arrows sends;
Which, by the winged Steel, where he intends,
Give deadly Wounds. He, born in Crete, was wont
(Bred 'mong the Sibyls Sacred Caves) to Hunt
In the Dictæan Woods; and, when a Childe,
Birds, mounting to the Skies, had often kill'd;
And stop'd by suddain Wounds the running Dear,
That scap'd the Toils; and, while he yet might hear
The singing Bow, perceiv'd the Beast to fall.
Nor could that Age any, more justly, call
A skilfull Archer: had Gortyna sought
The Conquest, and Eoan Arrows brought.
But, when his former Sports the sad Decay
Of Wealth deni'd, constrain'd to put to Sea,
With Meroe, his Wife, and Sons, by Fate
Into Sagunthus led, in low Estate,
A Guest he there remain'd. His hopefull Pair
Of Sons full Quivers at their Backs did bear,
With light, Steel-pointed, Cretan Shafts; which he,
Standing amidst the Valiant Youth, lets flee,
'Gainst the Massilian Troops: by which bold Tyre,
With Gravius, Glisco, Baga, did expire,
And Lixus; who deserv'd not to have bin
The Object of so certain Aim, whose Chin
The tender Down of Youth not yet indu'd.
But, with his Arrows, while he thus pursu'd,
The Fight, he aims against a Valiant Maid,
Forsaken Jove invoking to his Aid,
Unluckily. For Sarpe, born upon
The hollow Banks of Sandy Nasamon,

No sooner saw him turn the fatal Bow,
But she receiv'd within her Bosom (though
Far distant) the swift Arrow, and her Fate;
Which, with a gaping Wound, did penetrate
So far, that at her Back her Sisters all
First saw the Point appear. Before her fall,
Incens'd, another of the Virgin-Train,
Endeav'ring to support, but all in vain,
Her dying Limbs, and watring with her Tears
Her Eyes, whose Light almost extinct appears;
With all the Strength, that Grief and Fury lent,
Towards the Walls a deadly Arrow sent,
Which through the Shoulder of Stout Dorilas,
(As swift as Thought) with Rapid force did pass.
The Bow was drawn so far, the Horned Ends
Did seem to touch; and, as the Nerve extends,
The space between the Bow the Shaft supplies,
And, when Released by her Fingers, flies
Before the active Winds: then, from the Walls,
Headlong, the miserable Wounded falls;
And turning, upside-down, his Quiver, round
His dying Body, scatters on the Ground
The shining Shafts. Then Icarus, who stood
Near him (alike in Arms) his Brother's Blood
Prepares to Vindicate; and as, in haste,
His Hand unto the full-charg'd Quiver past,
To draw an Arrow; by a weighty Stone,
That from the Hand of Hannibal was thrown,
He fell to Earth: a deadly Coldness all
His stiffned Limbs possest; and, in his fall,
From's fainting Hand, into its place again
The half-drawn Arrow sinks. His Sons, thus slain,
When Father Mopsus saw; thrice, to pursue
Their wish'd Revenge, in a sad Rage he drew

His Cretan Bow: but thrice his Right-Hand fail'd,
And Grief, above his former Skill, prevail'd.
Then, by their Death, of all his Joys bereft,
Too late, alass! he griev'd, that he had Left
His Native Soil: and, Snatching up the Stone,
That against thee (Poor Icarus) was thrown,
Beating his Breast, in Vain, when no Relief
His Feeble Hands could give, to Ease his Grief,
By speedy Death, himself he Head-Long sends
From an High Tow'r, and on his Son extends
His dying Limbs. While thus Unfortunate,
In Forein Wars, this Stranger met his Fate;
Teron, who kept Alcides Temple, and
With Incense, at his Altars, us'd to Stand,
To new Designs the Army Stimulates,
And, in a sudden Sally from the Gates,
Invades the Tyrian Camp. He neither Spear
In's Hand, nor Helmet on his Head, did bear:
But, trusting to his Strength of Youth, his Broad
And Lofty Shoulders (like th'Oetæan God)
With an Huge Club, destroys the trembling Files
Upon his Head a Lyon's threatning Spoils,
With Gaping Jaws, he wore. An hundred Snakes,
Carv'd on his Shield, display'd their Marble Backs;
'Mong which a Monstrous double Hydra spreads,
In several Serpents, her divided Heads.
Thus Arm'd, he Juba, and Micipsa, (Fam'd
For Valiant Deeds, and from his Grand-fire Nam'd)
With aged Tapsus, and Saces the Moor,
Driv'n from the Walls, and flying to the Shore,
Fiercely Pursues; and, by one Valiant Hand,
The Streams of Blood the Neighb'ring Ocean stain'd.
For, Hot with Slaughter, and not satisfy'd,
That Idus, Rothus, and Jugurtha Dy'd,

Or that Marmarick Cotho he had kill'd,
Hasbyte's Chariot, and her Moon-like Shield,
Shining with Gold, he covets, and t'invade
With all his Force, and Rage, the Warlike Maid.
Him, with his Bloody Weapon, when she spy'd
Come rushing on, she turns her Steeds aside,
And in fallacious Circles, wheeling round
The Champain Field, divides the yielding Ground;
And, as if wing'd with Speed, she makes her way,
With her light Chariot, through the winding Sea.
Thus, while she flies his Sight, swift as the Wind,
The Horses raise a Cloud of Dust behind,
And, with the ratling Wheels, in pieces tear,
An adverse Troop. She, to augment their Fear,
From her sure Hand, did frequent Darts expell:
By which Bold Thamyris, and Lycus fell,
With Stout Eurydamas, whose noble Name
Derived was from him; who, known to Fame,
Fondly to high Embraces once aspir'd,
And, mad with Love, Penelope desir'd:
But by her Chaste, and Modest Arts deceiv'd,
And the fallacious Web, so oft unweav'd,
Gave out Ulysses, in the Sea, was drown'd.
But, what he fain'd of him, he after found
Real in his own Fate, and he expires
By Ithacus dire Hand; his Nuptial Fires
Turn'd into Fun'ral Flames: and, here, of all
His Race the last, Eurydamas doth fall,
Slain by a Libyan's Hand; whose Chariot makes
Her way, and all his Bones in pieces breaks.

But now, perceiving Teron, after all
His Labours, hard beset, to work his Fall,
Into the Fight again, the Furious Maid
Returns with Speed, and, as, about t'invade

Her Fo, she waves her Ax before her Brows,
Herculean Spoils to thee, Diana, Vows.
But Teron, no less big with hopes of Praise,
Himself against her bounding Steeds doth raise,
Casting before their Eyes the Lyon's Skin,
And threatning Jaws: affrighted, they begin
To yield to Fear, and, turning swiftly round,
Cast, with its Load, the Chariot to the Ground.
Then on Hasbyte, who endeavours now
To quit the Fight, he leaps, and, on her Brow,
Strikes his Herculean Club: by which her Brains,
Dash'd through her broken Skul, upon the Reins,
And fervent Wheels, dispersed ly; while He,
Hasting that such a Trophy all might see,
With her own Ax cuts off the Virgins Head.
Nor was his Anger there determined;
But fixed on a Spear he strait commands
To bear't, in view of all the Punick Bands,
And drive the Chariot to the City-Gates.
These Slaughters Teron, ignorant of Fates,
And that the Favour of the Gods declin'd,
Commits; while his own Death's not far behinde.
For now Fierce Hannibal, whose Face the Throne
Of Rage, and Death appear'd, came Furious on,
Incens'd, and griev'd to see Hasbyte dead,
And the yet-bleeding Trophie of her Head
In Triumph borne. But when the Troops beheld
The bright Reflections of his Brasen Shield,
And, as he mov'd (though distant far) did hear
The fatal clashing of his Arms, with Fear
Possess'd, they trembling fled unto the Walls,
As when, to their known Beds, the Ev'ning calls
The winged People, from the search of Food:
Or, when, on the Cecropian Hills, a Cloud

The Hony-lab'ring Bees, on tender Flowers
Disperst, affrighteth, with approaching Showers:
Like one congested Heap, unto their Hive,
And fragrant Cells, they haste, and Murm'ring strive,
One Climbing on anothers Back, to gain
Their Entrance at the Port, and shun the Rain.
Thus Fear the Sagunthines precipitates,
While Few discern their way, unto the Gates.
Oh flatt'ring Light of Heav'n! is Death to be
Shun'd with so great a Fear; which none can flee,
Since joined to their Birth? They cry for Aid,
Repenting, that they had this Sally made
From their safe Walls, and Works: while still, in vain,
Teron their Flight endeavours to restrain.
Sometime Dire Menaces, sometimes his Hand
He does imploy, and cries, Why flee ye? Stand;
He is my Enemy: to me the Crown
Of this great Fight belongs; and from our Town,
And Walls, the Tyrians by this Hand, alone,
Will I Repell. Stand therefore, and look on:
Or, if this Pannick Terrour drive you all,
To seek th'inglorious Shelter of a Wall;
(A shame, the greatest, that the adverse Fates
Can add) against Me onely, shut the Gates.
But Hannibal, while yet a sad Despair
Of Safety seis'd their Hearts, and horrid Fear
Did reign in ev'ry Breast, a while suspends
The Slaughter of his Enemies, and bends
His course unto the batter'd Walls, which he
Resolves, with all his Force shall Stormed be.
Th'Herculean Priest, perceiving his intent,
Labours, with speed, this Mischief to prevent.
At which Fierce Hannibal, more furious grown,
Cries out; Receive, fond Porter of the Town,

That Punishment of Fate, that shortly shall
Sagunthus self involve, and, by thy Fall,
Open the Gates. His Rage could not afford
More Words: but, as he waves his fatal Sword,
The Daunian Youth flings his contorted Oak,
With all his Force, against his Breast: the Stroak,
Clashing against his Arms, with horrour sounds,
And from the hollow Brass the Club rebounds.
Then having lost his Weapon, and his Strength
Employ'd in vain, unto the Walls, at length,
He turns; and, with the rest, forsakes the Fight.
Th'insulting Conquerour upbraids his Flight,
And follows at his Back. Then, with sad Cries,
The weeping Matrons, lifting to the Skies
Their trembling Hands, from the high Walls, proclaim
Their Griefs, and Fears: some, calling him by Name,
Tell him, They fain would send unto his Aid,
And let him in; but that they are afraid,
With him they should receive the Conqu'ring Fo.
But now (alass!) He can no farther go;
For Hannibal oppress'd him with his Shield:
And, as the City from the Walls beheld,
Cry's; Go, and let Hasbyte Comfort take,
In thy approaching Death. And, as he spake,
Into his panting Throat, which now abhor'd
A longer Life, thrusts his revenging Sword.
Then, from the very Walls, in Triumph leads,
Through all the Camp, his Spoils, and captiv'd Steeds.
Which, at the thronged Gate, excluded stand
By Multitudes, that fled his fatal Hand.
And now, the raging Troops of Nomades
Haste to perform their Queens sad Exequies:
Adding all Funeral Rites, and bearing thrice
The Corps of Teron (as a Sacrifice

To Hallow her dead Ashes) round the Pile,
Cast into th'Flames his Club, and Lyon's Spoil,
And sing'd his Face, now of all Form bereft,
And to th'Iberian Fowls his Carkass left.

While thus Affairs before Sagunthus stand,
They, who, at Carthage, were in chief Command,
Consult upon the War, and what shall be
Return'd to Rome's Imperious Embassie.
Whose Oratours with Fear their Hearts had fill'd:
While some to their Demands perswade to yield;
Urging their Faith, and League, that, long before,
They, and their Fathers, at the Altars swore,
The Gods to Witness call'd. Others the Love
Of the ambitious Youth's Attempts doth move,
To hope for Better things, if they pursu'd
The War. But Hanno, whom a Native Feud
Against the General, had long enflam'd,
Their Doubts, and rash Applause thus stoutly blam'd.

I might for Fear (grave Fathers) now refrain
(For him with Threats some labour'd to restrain)
To speak; but I will not desist, although
I saw my Death approaching by my Fo:
I call the Gods to Witness, and to Heaven
I leave those Sacred Vows, that we have given,
Which to perform, our Countrey's Safety calls.
Although Sagunthus be Besieg'd, her Walls
Sinking in Flames; not yet too late, my Fears
This Caution give, which oft, with anxious Cares,
Have broke my Rest, that this pernicious Head
Might not in Arms, and War, be nurtured;
And while I live, my Sense shall thus abide.
His innate Poison, and Paternal Pride,
I know. And as those Pilots, who the Skies,
And Stars do Contemplate, what Storms will rise,

What future Winds will cause the Seas to Rage,
To the affrighted Mariners Presage.
Aspiring to a Throne, he doth invade
The Reins of Rule. All Leagues, all Laws are made
The Objects of his Arms: with which he falls
On Cities, and, from far, against our Walls,
By this last Act, Æneas Warlike Race
He hath incens'd, and we have lost our Peace.
His Father's Ghost, and Fury, him excites,
And Memory of those Nefandous Rites
He once did Celebrate, and what of Old
Vainly to him Massila's Priest foretold:
And thus the Gods, for his infringed Faith,
On his perfidious Head convert their Wrath.
With Hopes of a new Kingdom blind, he Arms
'Gainst Forein Lands, and now Sagunthus Storms.
But let him not commix this Citie's Fate
With his own Fortune; let him expiate,
With his own Punishment, his proper Crime;
For now (Dear Carthage) at this very time,
He Thee Besiegeth, and Assaults thy Walls.
We stain'd, with Gen'rous Blood, th'Ænean Vales,
And scarce with hir'd Laconians could maintain
The War: our Navies, broken on the Main,
Have fill'd up Scylla's Caves: and we have seen,
When, from Charybdis Bottom, Decks have been
Spew'd up again. Vain Wretch! whose Soul no Fire
Of Piety doth Warm! do but retire
Thy Thoughts, a while, upon Ægathes War,
And Limbs of Libya dispersed far.
Whither dost run? Why, thirsting after Fame,
Thus, in thy Countrey's fall, dost seek a Name?
The Alps may give Thee way, and Apennine,
Equal to them, his Snowy Head decline:

Yet, though thou gain'st some Ground, think'st thou to finde
In those great Nations a mortal Mind?
That they to Fire, and Sword, will yield? Alass,
You fight not now with a Neritian Race.
Their Souldiers in the Camp are Bred, and Born,
And, e're the Down appear, their Cheeks are worn
With Brasen Helmets: Ease, and Rest's unknown
To Aged Men, who Pale, and Bloodless grown,
In the continued Service of the State,
In Fronts of Battails do provoke their Fate.
My self have Romanes seen, who pierced through
Their Bodies, from their Wounds their weapons drew,
And turn'd them on the Fo: their Valour I
Have seen, and thirst of Honour, when they dy.
If therefore, Carthage, thou decline this War,
Nor give thy Self up to the Conquerour,
How much of Mischief may prevented be,
And how much Blood shall Hanno save for Thee?

Thus He: but Gestar, whose full Breast the while
With Anger, and Impatience, did boyl,
Who twice to Interrupt him had essay'd,
Replies. Is then a Romane Souldier made
One of the Libyan Councils, and must He
A Member of the Tyrian Senate be?
'Tis true, he is not Arm'd; but, well I know,
In all things else, he is a perfect Fo.
Us with the Snowy Alps, and horrid Height
Of lofty Apennine, he would affright,
With raging Seas, and Waves of Scylla's Coast:
Nor wants it much, but he a Romane Ghost
Still dreads; their wounds, and Deaths, he so doth praise,
And to the Stars an Humane Race doth raise.
Trust Me; though some cold Hearts with Fear may be
Possess'd, we have a mortal Enemy.

Ev'n I beheld their Regulus, the Hope
Of the Hectorean Race, their strongest Prop,
His Hands enchain'd behind, with publick Joy,
Into a Dungeon drag'd, ne'r seen by Day:
I saw, when Crucified, from the high Oak,
He, hanging, on Hesperia did look.
Nor doth the Face of Boys, that Helmets wear,
A cause of Terrour unto Me appear;
Or, that their Cheeks with early Casks are worn:
We are not of a Race so sluggish born.
How many Libyan Troops their Years, in Deeds
Of Arms, out-go, and War on Naked Steeds.
The General, so soon as He could speak,
At th'Altar vow'd, this War to undertake:
To waste with Flames the Phrygian People, and
His Father's Arms resolv'd to take in Hand.
Ev'n in thy Sight (vile Hanno) he shall be
Revenger of the Romane Crueltie.
Then let the Alps encrease, and let them joyn
To Heav'n their shining Heads, with Apennine.
Yet I dare say (though vainest Fears do finde
Their Influence upon a guilty Mind)
Ev'n through those Rocks, and Snows, nay through the Stars,
His way he'l make, and scorn to think them Bars,
Which Hercules or'ecame, or to despair
Of second Honour. But the former War,
Its Devastations, and the Miseries
Of Libya, Hanno, vainly, amplifies:
Nor would, that we should undertake, and try
Again, these Labours, for our Liberty.
But let him lay those Throws of Fear aside;
And with the Women, safe at home, abide,
And save his sighing Soul: we, Fathers, we,
(It is Decree'd) will meet the Enemy;

And from thy Walls (dear Carthage) far remove
The Tyran Romanes, in despight of Jove.
But if the Fates resist, and Mars give way,
That Tyrian Byrsa, be condemn'd this Day,
I'le rather choose to Die, then give up Thee
(Dear Country) to Eternal Slavery,
And go with Freedom to the Shades below:
For as to that (Good Gods) which Fabius now
Demands, that we lay down our Arms, and qu i
Sagunthus, when our Troops have conquer'd it.
Then Burn your Targets, let your Navy be
Consum'd in Flames, and wholly quit the Sea.
But if our Carthage hath not merited
To feel such things, as these, ye, Gods, forbid
This Wickedness! oh, let our Generals hands
Be free, and not bound up in peacefull Bands.

This said, he silent sate, as custom was:
The Senate streight proceed their Votes to pass,
While Hanno urgeth to restore the Spoils
Of War, and add's the Authour of those Broils.
With that the Fathers, leaping from their Seats,
Amazd, as if the Fo were at the Gates
O'th' Temple, Pray the Gods, that it may be
A Fatal Omen unto Italy.
Fabius, perceiving that their thoughts were far
From Peace, and, treacherously, enclin'd to War,
No longer able to conceal his Ire,
With speed another Council doth require:
And to th'assembled Fathers doth Declare,
That in his Bosom he brought Peace, or War,
Demands their Choice, that, Him they would no more
Detain, with dubious Answers, as before.
But, when no Choice of either they exprest,
(As if he'd powr'd whole Armies from his Breast,)

Take then a War (said He) (with that let's fall
His folded Garment) take a War, which shall
To Lybia, like the former, fatall be,
In its Events. This said, incensed, He
The Temple, and the City quit's, and home
Returns, a Messenger of War to Rome.
While such at Carthage was the State of things:
Fierce Hannibal, enrich'd with Trophies, brings
Again his Arms before Sagunthus Walls,
And, to his Aid, those many Nations calls,
Whose Faith to Rome was shaken by the Fear
Of dubious War; while they continued there,
The People, that inhabited the Coast,
Presents (the best Callaick Art could boast)
Brought to the General. A shining Shield,
That Beams, like Lightning terrible, did yield.
An Helmet on whose rising Crest, a Plume
Did tremble, and in Whiteness overcome
The Alpine Snow. With them a Sword, and Spear
Which afterwards to thousands Fatall were:
With treble Chains of Gold, a Coat of Mail,
Studded, 'gainst which no Weapon could prevail.
These made of Brass, and harder Steel, inlay'd
With Tagus Wealth, triumphing, he survey'd,
And in the Carved Works was pleas'd to see
His Nations happy Birth, and History.
Dido, the first Foundation there did lay,
Of Carthage: and, her Navy sent away,
The Work begun, th'industrious Youth pursu'd.
Some with long Piles, and Banks, the Port include:
To others Reverend Bitias prepares
Their Houses Platforms, all in equal shares.
And, as they turned up the Fertile Ground,
A Warlike Horses Head, by chance, they found.

The Omen, with an universal Shout
Of Joy, they all appeared to Salute.
Among these Figures sad Æneas stands,
Wrack'd on her Coasts, and with extended Hands,
Deprived of his Fleet, and Friends, is seen
To crave Assistance. Him th'unhappy Queen
Views with an earnest Eye, and Entertains
With Smiles: for Love within her Bosom Reigns.
Then they Describ'd the Cave, and secret Rites,
The Lovers us'd to warrant their Delights.
Mean while the Cries of Men, and Dogs, appear
To Strike the Marble Sky; till suddain Fear,
Of an Impetuous Storm, the Hunters all
Constrain'd, for Shelter, into Woods to fall.
Not far from these, upon the Empty Shore,
Eliza Weeps, and did, in Vain, implore
The Trojan-Fleet's return, that now to Sea
Had hois'd up Sails, and bore her Love away.
Then on a lofty Pile, at last, She stands,
Wounded; and to the Tyrians commands
Revenging Wars: the Trojan Prince, the while,
Beholding, from the Sea, the flaming Pile,
To the propitious Fates his Sails doth spread,
Resolv'd to Follow, wheresoe're they Lead.
Apart from these, at Stygian Altars, stood
Young Hannibal (a Childe) who secret Blood
Offer'd, with the infernal Priest; and there
The War against Æneas Race did swear.
But Old Amilcar's Image seem'd to be
Alive, and Triumph over Sicily:
You'd think he breath'd forth War; within his Eys
A Flame of Terrour, with grim Aspect, lies.
Upon the left Side of the Shield, a Band
Of Spartans, with their ragged Ensigns, stand:

Whom Bold Xantippus, as a Conqu'rour, led,
From fair Amycle, fam'd by Læda's Bed.
Near these, hung Regulus, their sad Renown,
Upon a Cross; and, to the trembling Town,
Faith's great Example was. A joyfull Face
Of Things adorns the rest: where some the Chace
Of Beasts pursue, and carved Houses shine.
Not far remote from them, with parched Skin,
The black-Moor's Sister, in an horrid Dress,
Tames, with her Country's Speech, a Lyoness.
Then, through the Fields the wandring Shepherd moves
Free without Stop, through unforbidden Groves:
Near them his Dart, and (whom he Cydon names)
His barking Dog, his Cottage, and hid Flames
In Veins of Flint; then, lively, they exprest
His Pipe, familiar to the lab'ring Beast.
Then on a lofty Hill Sagunthus stands,
And by unnumbred Nations, and Bands
Of Fighting men, Besieged-round appears,
And to be push'd at, by their trembling Spears.
About the Borders, rich Iberus seems
To make the Circle up, with winding Streams:
Over whose Banks fierce Hannibal, from far,
Calls Africk-People to the Romane War.
On his broad Shoulders, as he, smiling, tries
These wealthy Presents; proudly, thus, he cries.

In how much Romane Blood shall I imbrue
These Arms? with how great Punishments pursue
That Gowned Senate; that themselves do make
Revengers of the War we undertake?

Now in the Siege the Fo grows old, a Day
Concludes the Citie's Fate; while, weary, they
Their forein Aids expect: but, now, no more
They look upon the Seas, or helpless Shore;

Perceiving Deaths approach, with sad Despair:
For their parch'd Entrails, the Contagious Air
Enflames, while Famine in their Bowels reigns,
And dries the Blood, in their contracted Veins.
From their faln Cheeks, their sinking Eyes, within
Their Heads retire, and through the shrivled Skin
The Bones, and ill-knit Joints (a wofull Sight)
With Nervs, consum'd, appear; the Dew of Night,
Some gather from the Earth, to quench the Fire
Of thirst, and some themselves do vainly tire
For Liquour, while they hardest Oaks do bruise;
Their rav'ning Hunger, which doth nought refuse,
Compels them to strange Food. From Shields they tare
The Hides to feed upon, and leave them bare.

These Ruins of his Citie from the Skie,
Alcides look'd on, with a mournfull Eye,
But all in vain; for him the strict command,
And fear of his great Father Jove withstand,
That he should nothing act 'gainst the Decree
Of his severe Step-Mother. Therefore He,
Concealing his Design, to Faith repairs,
Who in the farthest part of Heav'n, the Cares
Of Deities revolv'd: thus, at her Shrine
He tries Her Counsels: Thou great Power Divine!
Born before Jove himself: who art the Grace,
And Honour both of Gods, and Humane Race,
Consort of Justice, without whom nor Seas,
Nor Earth, can know the benefit of Peace;
A Goddess (where thou art) in every Breast!
Canst thou behold Sagunthus, thus opprest,
Unmov'd? That Citie, which, for Thee alone,
So many, so great ills, hath undergone?
For Thee the People dy, upon Thee, all,
Men, Women, Children, that can speak, do call,

By Famine overcome: from Heaven relieve
Their sad Estate, and some Assistance give.
Thus He; To whom the Heav'nly Maid again
Replies. I see all this, nor is't in vain,
That thus my Leagues infringed are: a Day
Shall come, Alcides, that shall sure repay,
With Vengance these their dire Attempts. But I
Was forc'd from the polluted Earth to fly,
To seek, in Jove's blest Mansions, a Place,
Free from the num'rous Frauds of Humane Race.
I left their Tyrans, that their Scepters hold,
Fearing, as they are Fear'd: that Fury, Gold,
The vile Reward of Treacheries, I left,
And above all, the Men, who now bereft
Of all Humanity, like Beasts by Spoil,
And Rapine, live, while Honour is the Foil
To Luxury, and Modesty by Night,
And her dark Crimes opprest, avoids the Light,
The place of Right, the too imperious Sword
Doth arrogate; and Force alone's Ador'd:
Vertue gives way to Vice; for look upon
The Nations of the Earth, and there is none
Is Innocent; their frequent Fellowship
In Crimes, alone, the Common Peace doth keep.
But that these Walls, erected by thy Hand,
May in the Book of Fame for ever stand,
By an End worthy Thee, and that they may
Not give their Bodies up a Captive Prey,
To the Proud African (which, onely, now
The Fates, and State of Future things allow)
The Honour of their Death will I extend
Beyond the pow'r of Fate, and them commend,
As Patterns, to Posterity, and go,
With their prais'd Souls, unto the Shades below.

This said; The constant Virgin, through the Air,
Descends, and to Sagunthus doth repair,
Then strugling with the Fates: through ev'ry Breast
She goes, invades their Minds, which, all-possest
By her great Deitie, each Soul doth prove
Her Altar, burning by her Sacred Love.
Now, as if Strong again, for Arms they cry,
And in the Fight their weak Endeavours try.
Strength, above Hope, they find, while the sweet Name,
And Honour, of the Goddess doth inflame
Their Hearts; resolved, for her Sake, to dye,
And suffer things, far worse then Death; to try
The Food of Savage Beasts, and Crimes to add
To their Repast: but them chaste Faith forbad
Longer, with so much Guilt, to view the Day,
Or with Man's Flesh their Hunger to allay.

Her when Saturnia (who by chance came down
Into the Libyan Camp) within the Town,
(Which she so hated) saw, she doth upbraid
The Virgin's Courage, and the War she made.
Then in a Rage, with troubled Steps she went
To that dire Fury, that doth still torment
The guilty Souls, and thus upon her calls,
With Hands extended. Strike (said she) those Walls,
Thou Darling of the Night, let thy fell Hands
Destroy that People, 'tis Juno commands;
My self, within a Cloud, will here stand by,
And see the Issue of thy Industry.
Those Weapons, which sometimes immortal Jove
Disturb, by which thou Acheron dost move,
Thy Flames of Sulphure, and thy hideous-Snakes
In Curls, thy horrid Voice, which silent makes
Hell's Triple-headed Porter, and let fall
From's Jaws his poys'nous Spume, commixt with Gall:

What Plagues, and Mischief, what Impiety
Soe're within thy fruitful Breast do lie
Upon these hated Rutuli throw down,
And let Sagunthus sink to Acheron;
Thus let their peevish Faith rewarded be.
Incited by these words, Tisiphone
Invades the Walls, then, round about, the Hill
Trembles, and roaring Waves the Shore do fill.
Innumerable Serpents, on her Head
Hissing, her tumid Neck, and Breast, or'espread.
Death, walking with her, his wide Jaws extends,
On whom pale Sorrow, and black Grief attends.
All Plagues were present, that created were,
While Cerberus with howling rends the Air.
Forthwith she counterfeits Tyburna's Face,
Her Voice, her Speech, her Gesture, and her Pace.
Tyburna, of a Noble Race, deriv'd,
Her Blood from Daunus, and by War depriv'd
Of her dear Husband, Murrus, then bewail'd
Her Widdowed Bed. The Fury having vail'd
Her self, with her sad Countenance, her Hair
Dishevel'd, to the Assembly doth repair,
And tearing there her Cheeks, What end (said she)
Of our great Faith, and Citie, shall we see?
I have my Murrus seen, who, every Night,
Doth me, with his yet gaping Wounds, affright,
And lamentably, thus, on me doth call,
Flie, my Tyburna, Flie this Citie's Fall.
Or if the Conqu'ring Libyan deny
The Earth to thee, to me, Tyburna, flie.
Our Gods are faln, and we (poor Rutuli)
Are lost, the Punick Sword doth all enjoy:
I tremble, and his Ghost, as yet, before
Mine Eyes, me-thinks, appears. Shall I no more

Thy Stately Palaces, Sagunthus, see?
Happy my Murrus was, thrice happy He,
Who saw his Countrey standing, when he fell!
But us Victorious Carthage will compell,
(After so many Miseries of War,
And Dangers of the Sea) their Yoak to bear,
And serve Sidonian Ladies, and to lie,
Captives in Libya's Bosom, when we die.
But you, whose conscious Valour doth deny,
(O brave young Men!) a possibility
To be made Captives: to whom Death will be
A certain Guard against all Misery;
With your own Hands, your Mothers now redeem,
From Slavery. True Virtue gets Esteem
From hardest things. Go on, that Praise to gain,
Which, hardly, meaner People can obtain.

With this sad Language having fill'd their Ears,
The Fury to an antient Tomb repairs,
Which on the Hill was built by Hercules,
A Land-Mark unto such as Plough'd those Seas,
By him adorned with all Sacred Rites.
Come thither, from the Bottom she excites
(A Sight of Terrour) a Cærulean Snake,
With Spots of Gold upon his Sealy Back;
His shining Eyes are fill'd with bloody Flames:
And (to increase the Terrour of those Beams)
He hisseth loud, and shakes his forked Tongue,
And then, with Speed, into the trembling Throng
Of Citizens he glides, and from the Walls,
Into the midst of all the Citie, falls.
Thence like a Fugitive he makes his way
To th'Shore, and drown's himself i'th' foaming Sea.
Then all distracted are; and, as betrayd,
Its silent Mansion ev'ry frighted Shade

Fled, and refus'd to stay in Conquer'd Ground.
And, now, Despair of Safety doth confound
Their troubled thoughts: they, now, their Meats detest,
And mad Erinnys Reigns in ev'ry Breast.
Nor is the Wrath of Heav'n, which they endure,
More grievous, then the sad Delays of sure,
And certain Death. They all contend their Fate
To meet, with Speed, and longer Life do hate.
Amidst the City, by the Industry
Of all the People, raised to the Skie,
There stood a lofty Pile; to which they bear,
And drag, their Riches, that congested were
In long-continued Peace. Their Wealth, acquir'd
By their own Hands, and stately Robes admir'd
For Art, embroid'red with Callaick Gold
By Skilfull Matrons; and their Arms, of old,
Brought from Dulichian Zacynthus, by
Their Grand-fires; and those Gods, the Rutuli
Took from their antient Abodes; with all,
They could their own, as yet, Unconquer'd, call:
Their Shields, and hapless Swords, and what within
The Earth, in time of War, had buried been,
Again digg'd up, they add unto the Pile,
Glad, with themselves, to burn the Conqu'rour's Spoil.
When these the Fury saw together heap'd,
She shakes her Lamp of Sulphur, lately steep'd
In burning Phlegethon, and drives away,
By Stygian Darkness, the affrighted Day.
Then they began the Work, whose sad Renown
Their Memories, with lasting Fame, shall Crown,
Through all the World, and them Unconquer'd call.
For, prompted by Erinnys (Chief of all)
Scorning Delays, they all, with Triumph, prest
Th'unwilling Swords into each others Breast.

Then thrice the Stroaks of her Infernal Whip
Sound sadly through the Citie; while they dip,
In Blood of Kindred, their unwilling Hands;
And ev'ry Man, with thoughts of Horrour, stands
Amaz'd at what he Acts, and doth bemoan,
With Floods of Tears, the Mischief, that is done.
This, mad with Rage, and sense of Misery
So long endur'd, Obliquely turns his Eye
Upon his Mother's Breast: whilst that invades
His dear Wive's neck with's Ax; then, streight, upbraids
Himself, and, check'd with Horrour, doth survey
What he's about to do; then flings away
The Weapon 'midst his Rage: yet cannot she
Escape; for streight the Blows redoubled be
By Fierce Erinnys: who through all appears,
And, with her Breath, inspireth horrid Fears.
Thus in the Husband Nuptial Love doth dye;
Those sweet Delights are lost, and Memory
Of Hymeneal Tapers. Then, at length,
The mangled Corps he throws, with all his Strength,
Upon the Pile: whence a dark Pyramis
Of Smoak, like a black Storm, doth waving rise.
But thou, Tymbrenus, with unhappy Rage,
And Piety Sinister, dost engage,
Amidst the Throng; hasting t'Anticipate
The Carthaginians, in thy Father's Fate:
Wounding that Face, and Members, that were known,
In all things, to resemble so thine Own.
And you, Lycormas, and Eurymedon,
Twins, so alike in Form, that both were one,
Who labour'd in your Sons to propagate
Your Names, and Forms, here sadly met your Fate,
In prime of Age. But Thee that Sword, from Guilt,
Absolves; which, through thy Throat transfixed, spilt

Thy Blood, Eurymedon: while, with her Woes
Distracted, and deceiv'd, Oh! whither goes
My dear Lycormas, your sad Mother cryes?
Here turn thy Sword. And, as Lycormas dies
By his own Hand, She, by the Marks, again,
Of his Twin-shape, deceiv'd, exclaims in vain;
Whither, Eurymedon, doth Rage thee lead?
Thus she, with changed Names, invokes the Dead:
Till, to her trembling Breast the Sword apply'd,
On her ambiguous Sons, she, Frantick, dy'd.
This noble Citie's horrid Miseries,
Their Punishments for Faith, and Prodigies
Renown'd, with their sad Acts of Piety;
Who can relate, without a weeping Eye?
Scarce could the Punick Camp, and cruel Foe,
Forbear their Pitty, in their Tears, to shew.
That Citie, Faith's most antient abode,
The Authour of whose Walls was held a God,
By the Sidonians treach'rous Arms doth fall,
And their Fore-Fathers mighty Actions all,
By the unequal Gods, neglected are;
While Fire, and Sword, consumes them ev'ry where
That Place, that wants a Flame, is impious held;
And Clouds of Smoak, with pitchy Darkness, swell'd
Up to the very Stars: At length, the Tower,
That stood upon the Hill, by all the Power,
Of War, till then, untouch'd (from whence the Shore,
And Carthaginian Camp, they us'd t'explore,
And all Sagunthus) with those bless'd Abodes
On Earth, the Sacred Temples of the Gods,
Now sinks in Flames; whose Image, from the Main,
By Waves, that seem to burn, 's return'd again.

But now, behold! Tyburna, 'midst the Heat,
And Rage of Slaughter, most unfortunate,

Arm'd with her Husband's Sword, in her right-Hand,
Her left a flaming Taper waving, and
Her Hair dishev'l'd, her Breasts made black, and blew,
With Stroaks of Grief, and to the publick View
Expos'd with naked Arms, to Murrus Tomb,
O're Heaps of mangled Carcases, doth come.
As when, tormenting Souls, th'Infernal King,
With Groans, like Thunder, makes his Courts to ring,
Alecto at his Throne doth strait appear,
To act his Will, and Plagues administer.
Her Husband's Arms, that lately with much Blood
Defended were, as then shee weeping stood,
Upon the Tomb she lays, and, having pray'd
Th'Elysian Ghosts to entertain her Shade,
She puts the flaming Taper underneath,
And willing to accelerate her Death,
These, in the other World, my Self (said She)
My dearest Murrus, will convey to Thee.
Then, taking up the Sword, her self she lai'd
Upon his Arms, and gaping did invade
The rising Flames, Dispersed on the Ground,
Promiscuous Heaps of half-burnt Bodies, round
About her ly, unhappy Funerals!
As when a Lyon, fierce with Hunger, falls
On trembling Flocks, which greedily he eats,
With Thirsty Jaws, and Blood regurgitates
From his extended Throat, or'e mangled Heaps
Of half-devour'd Trunks, and Limbs, he leaps;
Then walking round them, with a murm'ring Noise,
Grinding his Teeth, surveys what he destroys:
The Sheep, and Guardian-Dog, the Company
Of Shepheards, with the Master, prostrate ly,
And all the Cottages, as if a War
Had late been there, destroy'd, and wasted, are.

And now the Carthaginians do invade
The City, by these Ruins empty made.
This Work, which glad Saturnia commends,
Perform'd, to Hell Tisiphone descends,
And with her, as in Triumph, proudly takes
A num'rous Troop, to the Infernal Lakes.
But you, bless'd Souls! who cannot equal'd be
By any Age, since Time's Nativity,
May you the Glory of the Earth become,
And, happy Dwellers in Elysium,
Adorn the chaster Seats of pious Souls!
But you, whom unjust Victory enrolls,
In Fame's large Catalogue, ye Nations, hear;
Break not the Leagues of Peace, nor Crowns more dear,
Then Faith esteem. Cast from his Countrey, He
A wandring Exile, through the World, shall be;
And Carthage, trembling, shall behold him Flie,
While, in his troubled Sleeps, affrighted by
Sagunthine Ghosts, He'll wish he there had dy'd
By them: and, when a Sword shall be deny'd,
This great unconquer'd Captain then shall go,
Deform'd by Poyson, to the Shades below.

The End of the Second Book.

The Third Book.

The Argument.

Bostar to Ammon's Oracle is sent,
To understand the future War's Event.
To Carthage, Hannibal His Wife, and Son,
Conveys by Sea, unwilling they should run
The Hazard of the War. A Num'rous List
Of all the Nations, that Him Assist.
Pyrene overpass'd, He marcheth on,
Untill His Conqu'ring Army stood upon
The Banks of Rhodanus: whose rapid Stream
By Art, and Industry, He overcame.
At length ascends the Alps, great Miseries
The Army, in their tedious March, surprize;
Untill arriving in the Taurine Plain,
They there Encamp. Bostar returns again,
From Horned Ammon's Temple, and declares
The God's Command to prosecute the Wars.

All Tyes of Faith by Tyrian Arms undone,
And Walls of Chast Sagunthus overthrown,
Through Jove's Displeasure: strait the Conqu'rour went
To the World's Bounds, and Gades, by Descent
To Him ally'd: and diligent to finde
What Prophets, and presaging Souls divin'd,

Concerning his Command: Bostar is strait
Dispatch'd by Sea, to know ensuing Fate.
'Tis a Belief, in Sanctuaries long
Preserv'd, where horned Ammon, plac'd among
The parched Garamantians, emulates
Cyrrhæan Caves, that in a Grove, which Fates
Foretells, he future Ages did declare,
With their Events. An happy Omen there
To his Designs he sought, and, long before
The Day arriv'd, all Chances did explore,
And Fortune of the War. But here, the God
Ador'd, the Holy Altars he doth load
With Spoils, snatch'd lately at Sagunthus Fall,
Half-burnt from the then flaming Arcenal.
'Tis a Report (and not believed Vain)
That, from the first Erecting of that Fane,
The Timber Firm continues, and hath known
The Hands of the first Architects alone.
Here they rejoice to think the God doth dwell,
And from his Temple doth Decay repell.
And they, that have the Honour to repair
Into the secret Places, must with Care
Provide, that Women do not enter in,
And from the Gates must banish bristled Swine.
Neither before the Altars may they wear
Discolour'd Robes: their Bodies cover'd are
With Linen; and Pelusiack Tulbans Crown
Their Heads: their Garments loosely hanging down;
They Incense burn, and, by their Fathers taught,
The Sacrificing Vest with Studs is wrought:
Bare-foot, short-hair'd; their Beds from loose Desires
Are free; their Altars keep Eternal Fires.
Within no Statues of the Gods appear,
Or Images. The Place a Rev'rent Fear,

And Majesty, adorn. But, carv'd with Skill,
The Gates the Labours of Alcides fill.
There the Lernæan Hydra lies, her Snakes
Cut off; and there, with God-like Strength he breaks
The Nemæan Lyon's gaping Jaws: and then
Hell's Porter, drag'd from his Eternal Den,
Affrights the Ghosts with Howling, and disdains
His Thraldom; while Megæra fear'd the Chains.
Near these, the Thracian Horses; and the Boar,
Arcadia's Plague: the Hart, whose Fore-head wore
Horns, that, in Breadth, the Arms of Trees surpass'd:
Next them, a Conquest, no less easie, plac'd,
Earth-born Antæus on his Mother stood;
And the two-formed Centaur's ugly Brood,
While the poor Acarnanian seems to fear
His Naked Front: then Oeta doth appear
To shine with Sacred Fires, and to the Skies,
On winged Flames, his mighty Soul doth rise.
These various Shapes of Valour having fill'd
A while his Eyes; near to them he beheld
A Sea, that, rising to a wondrous Height,
Fell on the subject Earth, with all its Weight;
No Shores do give it Bounds, but ev'ry where
The Waters, o're the Fields, diffused are.
For, where blew Nereus, in Cærulean Caves,
Turns, from the Bottom, the contorted Waves,
An Inundation breaks; and, by Release
Of hidden Springs, fierce Torrents do encrease:
Then, as if Trident-struck, with furious Throws,
Th'impetuous Billows labour to impose,
Upon the trembling Earth, the swelling Main:
Then strait the falling Tide retires again,
And the forsaken Vessel leaves aground;
While, looking for the Flood, the Decks are crown'd

With idle Seamen: stooping from above,
In her bright Chariot, the Moon doth move
These restless Kingdoms of Cymotheæ,
And the continual Labours of the Sea;
Bringing the Tide, and bearing it away,
While still alternate Tethys doth obey.
These view'd in Haste: for weight of many Cares
Lay on his Thoughts; first to remove, from Wars,
The Consort of his Bed, and Son, as yet
An Infant, and depending on the Teat;
For they their Virgin Nuptial-Tapers joyn'd
In Youth, and still retain'd a loving Minde.
But at Sagunthus Siege begot, the Childe
Not yet the Age of twice six Moons fulfill'd.
And Hannibal, resolving to remove
Those dear, and tender Pledges of his Love,
From Arms, and future Danger, to his Son
Directs his Speech; and, smiling, thus begun.

Oh! Thou great Hope of Carthage, and no less
A Terrour to the proud Æneades!
May'st Thou exceed thy Father in thy Fame,
And by thy Actions build Thy self a Name!
May'st Thou a greater Warriour appear
Then was thy Grand-sire: and, now sick with Fear,
May Rome teach Matrons to prepare their Tears,
When they discourse the number of thy Years!
If my divining Soul do not delude
My Sense; this very Boy, we may conclude,
A mighty Labour to the Earth will be:
I know my Countenance in his, I see,
Beneath his angry Brow, his threatning Eye.
Observe the weighty Eccho of his Cry,
Those Elements of Anger, that from me
Derived are. If any Deity,

By Chance, so glorious Acts anticipate,
And break off their Beginnings, by my Fate;
(Dear Wife) endeavour to preserve, with Care,
This Pledg of War: and, when thou first shalt hear
Him speak, within my Cradle him convey,
And on Eliza's Altar let him lay
His tender Hands, and, to my Ashes, swear
The Prosecution of the Romane War.
Then, when, more firm in Years, his Cheeks shall wear
The Flower of Youth, let him in Arms appear;
And, scorning Leagues, a Conqu'rour at Rome,
Raise in the Capitol for me a Tomb.
But Thou, whom th'happy Honour of a Birth,
So High, attends, renown'd through all the Earth,
For Faith, and Constancy; remove, O far,
Remove, from Dangers of uncertain War,
And leave these harder Labours. We must go
Or'e Rocks, and Hills, that, cover'd or'e with Snow,
Seem to prop up the Heav'ns. We, what may make
Juno, her self, admire, must undertake
Alcides Labours, and the Alps, that are
A Toil, more greivous, then the sharpest War.
But, if inconstant Fortune my Design
Shall thwart, and promis'd Favours shall decline:
May'st thou live long, and hasty Fate extend
Thy ev'ner Thread of Life, beyond my End!

Thus He. Imilce, of Cyrrhæan Race,
Whose Ancestour (Renown'd Castalius) was
Apollo's Priest: and Castulo, in Spain,
So called from his Mother, doth retain
As yet the Name; and from that sacred Line
Deriv'd her Parents, since the God of Wine,
Shaking high Calpe, with his Thyrsus, and
Arm'd Menades, subdu'd th'Iberian Land:

And Milicus, who (of a Satyre born,
And Nymph Myrîce) on his Front, the Horn
Of his lascivious Father planted wore,
A Potent Scepter in that Country bore.
From him her Country did Imilce claim,
And fam'd Original; from him, her Name,
Corrupted by their barbarous Speech, She than,
Tears flowing, with sad Language, thus began.

Forgetfull, that My Safety doth depend
On Thine, dost thou refuse Me to attend
On thy Designs? Is thus thy Nuptial Vow,
And first-Fruits of my Bed neglected now?
Or shall I wanting be to climb with Thee
The Frozen Hills? believe, and try in Me
A Woman's Strength. No Labour is too great
For my Chast Love: but, if on me You set
No other Rate, but of my Sex alone,
And part for that; I yield, I look not on
My Fate. May Jove consent! Go Happy Thou,
Go, and propitious Gods our Pray'rs allow!
And when in Fight, and Heat of Arms, you are,
Think then on Me, and this Your Son, with Care.
For I nor Romanes, nor their Darts, nor Fire,
Do dread so much, as Thee: who dost desire
To Run upon their Swords, and dost present
Thy Head to Danger. Thee no good Event
Of Valour satisfies. Honour, to Thee
Alone, seems vested with Infinity.
Souldiers to dye in Peace, to Thee appears
A Fate ignoble. Oh! my many Fears!
Forgive Me, for I tremble: yet, I none
Do fear, that shall encounter Thee alone.
But pity Us, great Father Mars, this Storm
Avert; nor may the Trojans do Him harm!

Now to the Shore they haste, the Seamen climb,
And, hanging on the Yards, their Canvase trim,
And fit them for the gently-breathing Wind:
While to allay his Fears, and ease his Minde,
Oppress'd with Cares, Thus Hannibal; Oh spare
These Omens, My most constant Wife! Forbear
Thy Tears. In Peace, or War, We all must have
A Period to Our Life. Our first Day gave
A Being to Our last. Brave Thoughts do few
Enflame, by Noble Actions to pursue
Eternal Fame; such onely mighty Jove,
Hath destin'd to the bless'd Abodes above.
Shall I the Romane Yoak endure, and see
The Tow'rs of Carthage in Captivity?
Ghosts do by Night affright Me, and the Shade
Of My dead Father doth My Sloath upbraid.
The Altars, and the horrid Sacrifice
I once did offer, stand before mine Eys.
Shortness of dubious Life forbids Delay
Of Time. Shall I sit still, that Carthage may,
Alone, acknowledge Me, and speak My Fame?
And shall not all the World know what I am?
Shall I relinquish Honour, through a Fear
To Dy? Alass! How little Distant are
Death, and a Silent Life. Yet think not I
Do Praise affect, with mad Temerity:
I have Esteem for Life; for Glory wears
Titles, and is ador'd in length of Years.
Great Trophies of this War shall also Thee
Attend: if Heav'n, and Gods propitious be.
All Tyber shall Thee serve; th'Ilian Dames,
And the rich Romane, with the Wealth he claims.

While thus they sadly talk, and mutual Tears,
Express their present Grief, and future Fears:

From the tall Ship, the Master (put to Sea)
Beckons to come aboard without Delay.
Then, from Her Husband snatch'd, with fixed Eys,
She views the Shore, till the swift Vessel flies
Through liquid Paths, and takes Her Sight away;
While Sea from Land retires, and Land from Sea.

But, Hannibal, resolving to remove,
With Cares of War, His pensive Thoughts of Love,
Goes to the ruin'd Walls: the which He views,
And, often, in His Wish their Fall renews;
Walking about the Ruins, till, at length,
His Labours overcame His stubborn Strength;
And Sleep insensibly, with pleasing Charms,
Compos'd His Minde, intent on War, and Arms.
Then Jove, designing still to exercise
The Trojan Race in Future Miseries,
Revive their antient Labours, and by Wars
To raise their lasting Name unto the Stars,
His slothfull Rest, and Resolution curbs,
And, by infused Fears, His Sleep disturbs.
And, now, Cyllenius, through the humid Shade
Of Night, His Father's high Commands convai'd:
And, lighting on the Earth, thus sharply He
The sleeping Youth upbraids. 'Tis base to see
A General in Sleep consume the Night:
They must be Vigilant, would stand in Fight.
The Seas oppress'd with Navies Thou shalt see,
And the Ausonian Youth, insulting, flee
O're all the Ocean: while Thou dost stand,
At first Attempts, in the Iberian Land.
Is it an Action of sufficient Fame,
Or Valour, to commemorate Thy Name;
That, with so great Attaques, Sagunthus fell?
Awake, if any Thing within Thee dwell,

Fit for brave Actions; rise, and go with Me,
And, where I call Thee, bear Me Company:
But, I forbid Thee to look back; for this
By th'greater Thunderer commanded is.
And if Thou dost obey, Thou shalt become
A Conquerour before the Walls of Rome.
With that He seem'd to lead Him by the Hand,
With Speed, and full of Joy, to Saturn's Land.
When strait a Noise breaks forth, with a loud Crack,
Like Thunder, round about; and, at His Back,
The Hiss of direfull Tongues the waving Air
Shakes, and repells: while He, with sudden Fear
Surpriz'd, no more retaineth in His Minde
The Precepts of the God; but looks behinde.
When dragging Groves from hills, &, with the Strokes
Of His vast Bulk, eradicating Oaks,
And bearing Rocks along, through invious Waies,
A Serpent, black as Night, his Tongue displaies
With dreadfull Hissing, and to's Eys appears
As big, as that, which the unequal Bears,
In num'rous Foldings, doth at once behold,
And both the Constellations unfold.
So large his Jaws, immanely, he distends,
And, lifting up his Head, in Height ascends,
Equal to Hills. Heaven's Rage ingeminates
The Noise, and, mix'd with Hail, new Fear creates.
He, with his Monster frighted (for nor Sleep,
Nor Night, did then their former Empire keep,
And, with his Wand, the God had put to Flight
The Darkness, and with Sleep had mingled Light)
What mighty Plague it was, demands, and where
'Twould fall, or whither that vast Body bear,
That then the Burthen of the Earth was made,
Or, gaping, what sad People 'twould invade?

To whom Cyllenius answers. Thou dost see
The War, so much desir'd, and sought by Thee.
Thee greatest Wars attend: the dreadfull Fall
Of Woods, and Forests, with high Storms, that all
The Face of Heav'n disturb, the Slaughter Thee,
And Death of Men, the great Calamity
Of the Idæan Race, and saddest Fate
Do follow, and upon Thee daily wait.
As great, and terrible, as that dire Snake,
Which now the Mountains, with his scaly Back,
Depopulates, and drives the Forests through
The Fields before him, and doth Earth imbrue
With frothy Poison. Such thou having past,
And overcome the Alps, with War shalt wast
All Italy; and, with a Noise as great,
The Cities, and their Walls, shalt ruinate.

Thus wounded with these Stings, the God, and Sleep
At once forsake him, and cold Sweat doth creep
O're all his Limbs: while, in a wofull Fright,
His Dreams revolving, he retracts the Night.
And now, with happy Omens, to the King
Of Gods, and Mars, they Holy Off'rings bring:
But, first, a Snow-white Bull devoutly they
To Hermes, on deserved Altars, lay.
And, all these Rites perform'd, He strait commands
His Ensigns to advance. With that the Bands,
Whose Languages, and Manners, different were,
With Clamours shake the Camp, and fill the Air.

But now, Calliope, declare to Fame,
What, and how many valiant Nations came,
(Rais'd by his dire Attempts) to Italy;
What Cities, with untam'd Iberians, He
Did arm; what Troops on th'Paretonian Shore
Libya presum'd to muster, and before

Great Rome, to challenge, to her self, the Reins
Of Rule, and on the Earth impose new Chains:
No Tempest, raised by impetuous Storms,
Went on so furiously; no dire Alarms
Of War, when twice five hundred Ships o're-spread
The Sea, and fill'd the trembling World with Dread.

The Carthaginian Youth, the Chief of all,
Their Ensigns spread: of Body light; not tall
Of Stature: but of that proud Grace depriv'd.
Apt for Deceit, they readily contriv'd
Their secret Frauds. A Round unpolish'd Shield,
With a short Sword, their Arms; and in the Field
They Bare-foot march'd; ungirt, with Garments red
They cunningly conceal'd the Blood was shed.
Captain to these, in Purple splendid, tall
Above the rest, Brother to Hannibal,
Mago, in's Chariot, with the Noise alarms
The Fo, and 's Brother imitates in Arms.
Next these, divided in Sidonian Bands,
(Built before Towr's of antient Byrsa) stands
Old Utica. Then Aspis, which the Shore
Encompass'd with Sycanian Walls: whose Store
Of crooked Turrets, that a Warlike Shield
Resembled, all the Neighbr'ing Sea beheld.
But young Sychæus drew the Eys of all
Upon himself: whom, Son to Hasdrubal,
With a vain Pride, his Mother's high Descent
Had fill'd; and's Uncle Hannibal content,
With no less Pride, still to repeat his Name.
Near these, the Warlike Souldier, that came
From watry Berenicis, and the Bands,
That, with long Dolons arm'd, among the Sands
Of thirsty Barce dwell. Then to the Fight
Cyrene, sprang from Pelops, doth excite

The false Battiades: whom, once extoll'd,
And by Amilcar fam'd, Ilertes old
In War, but young in Counsel, did command.
With Tabraca (then Tyrian People) and
Sarranian Leptis, Oea too combin'd,
Trinacrian Colonies, with Africk joyn'd:
And Tingis sent, from a Tempestuous Sea,
By Lixus: Vaga, and Hippo fam'd to be
The Love of Kings, and their Delight of old.
And Ruspina, that doth from far behold
Unequal Billows, rising on the Main:
With Zama, where the Libyan Troops were slain
By valiant Scipio. Thapsus too, that stood
Renown'd, as oft imbru'd with Romane Blood.
These Nations, both in Arms, and Body great,
Whose Name, and Deeds, did still perpetuate
Alcides Honour; taller by the Head,
Then all his following Bands, Antæus led.
Then came the Æthiopians, not unknown
To fruitfull Nile; who that mysterious Stone
Do cut, that draws, untouch'd, the distant Steel:
With Mibians; whose parched Bodies feel
The Fury of the Sun; not wont to wear
Helmets, or Coats of Mail, or Bows to bear;
Accustom'd, when in Fight they did contend,
With Flax their Heads, and Bodies, to defend,
And, in some deadly Poison, to imbrue
Their Swords, or to infect the Darts they threw.
Then first Cinyphian Macæ did begin
To learn Phœnician Warlike Discipline:
Their squallid Beards, their Faces over-spread,
And Goat-Skins rough their Shoulders covered;
With Sling-Darts arm'd, they came into the Field.
But th'Adyrmachidæ a painted Shield,

And Swords, like Hooks, by Art intorted, bear;
And their left-Legs with Armour guarded were:
But they Rude Tables have, and uncouth Fare;
For in hot Sands their Viands roasted are.
Massilians then, with Ensigns shining bright;
Who, last of all, behold the falling Light
Of Day, which the Hesperian Seas do drown.
These, with long curled Tresses hanging down,
Fierce Bocchus leads, and views upon the Shore,
Growing, on sacred Trees, the precious Ore.
Getulians likewise, from their wandring Home,
Into the Camp, to his Assistance, come;
Familiar with wild Beasts, they could allay,
With Words, the Lyon's Rage. No Houses they
Possess; but dwell, continually, in Wains,
Bearing their restless Lares through the Plains.
A thousand winged Troops, whose Steeds obey
The Wand, as nimble as the Winde, their Way
Into the Camp do break. As when the Hills,
And Plains, a Pack of Dogs with Eccho fills;
And with full Crie, in view, the flying Deer,
Do follow, and precipitate with Fear.
These, his stern Face, and Brow, with Rage o're-spread,
Acheras, slain Hasbyte's Brother, led.
And near to them, the Medicinal Troops, in Arms
Advance, the tann'd Marmarides: whose Charms
The Poison of fell Serpents can allay,
And make the horned Cerast to obey.
Then her unskilfull Youth Bamura sent;
A Nation poor in Steel for Arms, content
Their Spears to harden onely in the Fire:
Yet, with this weak Defence, did they desire,
To mix their horrid Murmurs with the rest,
And furiously unto the Battel prest.

Then fierce Autololes, whose nimble Speed
Outstrips the Torrent, or the fleetest Steed:
Birds to their Speed, in Flight, might seem to yield;
And, when they overran the Champian Field,
It was as vain a Task, to think to finde
Their Foot-steps, as to trace the lighter Winde.
Next, who by Juice, and Fruit of that fam'd Tree,
The Hospitable Lotus nourish'd be,
Are listed in the Camp, with those, that stand
Amaz'd to see, in Garamantick Sand,
The Dypsades; whose boiling Poyson fills
With Flames, and with strange thirst the wounded kills.
When Perseus had cut off the Gorgon's Head,
(As Fame reports) her banefull Blood was shed
On Sandy Libya; and, since that, the Ground
With Medusæan Serpents doth abound.
These by a Captain, most renown'd in War,
And born in Meninx Isle, commanded are:
Choaspes was his Name, who still did bear
In's fatal Hand, a missile barbed Spear.
Then Nasamon, who durst invade the Sea
For Ship-wrack, and deprive her of her Prey.
Next, those, who near to Pallas Pools do dwell:
And where the Warlike Maid (as Fame doth tell)
Among those Waters, with her Olive found,
With it did first enrich the Libyan Ground.
Then all those Nations, that inhabit, where
The Sun doth fall, and Hesperus first appear.
Before the rest, the stout Cantabrians, whom
Nor Frost, nor Summer's Heat could overcome,
Nor Hunger; and were still observ'd to be
Above the Reach of all Extremity:
Who, when their Heads are crown'd with hoary Hairs,
From some high Rock prevent their weaker Years:

Life, without War, they hate: in Arms they place
The cause of Life, to live in Peace, is base.
With these, unhappy Memnon's Servant, from
The East, a Stranger to his Native Home.
Th'Astyrian, sprinkled with Aurora's Tears,
Within another World, in Arms appears.
His Horse was little, and unknown to War;
Yet swift, and firmly on his Back would bear
The skilfull Rider; or, in easie Reins,
Hurry the peacefull Chariot o're the Plains.
Next, Herdrus, who Pyrene meteth o're
In Chase, and fights with Arrows, like the Moor.
To joyn with these, the Warlike Celtæ came;
Who with th'Iberi did divide their Name.
By these 'tis Honour held, in War to dy,
And to be Burnt. For, when their Bodies ly
Expos'd abroad, they do believe't to be
'Gainst Heav'n, and Gods, a great Impiety,
If on their Limbs devouring Vultures tire.
Then Rich Gallecia, in Divining Fire
And panting Entrails skilfull, thither brings
Her Youth; who sometimes in their Language sings
Rude Sonnets; sometimes, with alternate Feet
Striking the Ground, the barbr'ous Numbers meet;
Or beat the lofty Tune upon the Shield:
Their Pastime this, and chief Delight, is held;
The Womens Labours other things fulfill:
For 'tis beneath the Men to sow, or till
The fertile Ground; and whatsoever's done
Without a War, their Wives perform alone.
These, with the Lusitanians drawn from far
Removed Caves, and Dens, conducted are
By Viriarthus; whom the active Fire
Of Youth then warm'd; who after did acquire

By shedding Romane Blood, a noble Name.
With these the neighb'ring Ceretani came,
Once great Alcides Camp: and Vasions, who
No Helmets us'd to wear: Ilerda too,
Which after saw the Romanes Civil Rage.
Neither did Concavus; who doth asswage
His Thirst with Horse's Blood (whose Fierceness shews
He sprang from Massagets) this War refuse.
Now Ebesus Phœnician Arms assumes,
And Artabus, who, arm'd with Aclides, comes,
Or slighter Darts, and fierce the War attends:
With these the Balearique, who descends
From Lindus. But Tlepolemus with Slings
Is arm'd, and winged Lead in Battell flings.
From Oena, and Ætolian Tyde, came
The Gravians, who had chang'd their Graian Name.
Next Teucrian Carthage sends a youthfull Band:
Phocensians, and Tarraco, whose Land
In Vines abounds, whose Grapes, in Clusters swell'd,
By Latian Bacchus, onely, are excell'd.
'Mong these the Hedetanian Cohorts went
In shining Arms, from cooler Sucro sent:
And Setabis, which lofty Towers adorn:
That Setabis, whose Textures seem to scorn
The proud Arabian Webs, and overcome,
In rarest Art, the best Egyptian Loom.
Mandonius these Commands, and Cæso known,
For Horse-manship, their Camps now joyn'd in one.
But the Balarian Light Vetonian Wings
Tries, by the open Sea; and when the Springs
Approach, and Zephyrs breath their warmer Airs,
Preserving hidden Lust, his Herds of Mares
Exposeth, and by generative Winde,
Makes them conceive, and propagate their Kind.

But they are not long-liv'd, their Age doth haste,
And th'seventh Year is, commonly, the Last.
But Susana (whose Walls Sarmatians rear'd)
On Horses not so light, in Arms appear'd:
These Strong, and full of Mettle, to the Bit,
Or their fierce Master's Will, do scarce submit.
Them Rindacus commands: with crooked Spears
They fight, and ev'ry Crested Helmet bears
The frightfull Jaws of Beasts: Themselves they give
To Hunting; and by Theft, and Rapine, live.
But, above all, Parnassian Castulo,
With noble Ensigns, shines: and Hispal, who,
Assaulted daily by Alternate Tides,
Renown'd, against the Ocean firm abides.
Near these, familiar with Lyæus Rites,
Nebrissa: where the Satyrs their Delights
Enjoy by Night; and, cloath'd i'th' Panther's Skin,
There Mænades their Mysteries begin:
Carteia too (to Heighten hese Alarms)
The Nephews of great Argonthonius Arms;
A Warlike King, whose Life the Age surpast
Of Men, and thrice ten times ten years did lastt.
Tartessos too was there; which still surveys
The Steeds of Phœbus diving in the Seas.
Then fatal Munda, that as deep a Stain
Of Romane Blood, as the Æmathian Plain,
Did after bear; and Corduba, the Grace
Of the Gold-bearing Land, the War embrace.
These Phorcis, with long yellow Tresses crown'd;
And fierce Aranthicus, in Arms renown'd;
Led, from their Native Countrey, to engage
In Libya's Quarrel: both of Equal Age,
Born upon Bethe's Banks; whose horned Brows
Were overshadow'd with fat Olive-Boughs.

These the Sidonian Captain, through the Field,
Clouded with Dust, commanded, and beheld
Muster'd in Arms: and, in what Place soe're
All His bright Ensigns could, at once, appear,
He drew them up in Triumph; all along
Cov'ring the Ground, with Shadows of the Throng.
As when, descending through the Liquid Plain,
To visit farthest Tethys in the Main,
Where weary Phœbus rests, the God of Seas
His Chariot drives; the blew Nereïdes
Rush from their Caves, and each, contending, swims,
Displaying, in perspicuous Waves, their Limbs.

But Hannibal, disturbing the Repose
O'th' World, to th'Top of high Pyrene goes:
Pyrene, (whose rough Brows the Clouds enfold)
From far the Rich Iberi doth behold,
Divided from the Celtæ, and still stands
A firm Divorce between those mighty Lands.
The Hills their Name from a Bebrician Maid
Did first derive, and by the Crime ('tis said)
Of Hercules, a Guest; when, by the Fate
Of those his Labours, rais'd by Juno's Hate,
Triple Geryon's Land he did invade:
And then, in Bebrix cruel Palace, made
Lyæus Vassal, he Pyrene left,
Her Form bewailing, now by him bereft
Of her Virginity; and (if we may
Believ't) of her unhappy Death (they say)
That God was Cause: that God, who in her Womb
Began to swell. For She her dearest Home,
Frighted, forsook; and, with an awfull Dread,
Her Father's Ire, as from a Serpent, fled.
Wandring in desart Caves, Alcides Night
She did Lament, and all his Vows recite,

And Promises, unto the Shady Groves:
Till, thus bewailing his ingratefull Loves,
And lifting up her Hands t'implore his Aid,
She to the salvage Beasts a Prey was made.
But when, at length, the God return'd again
With Spoils, a Conquerour, Gerion slain;
Her mangled Limbs with Tears he did bewail,
And, when he saw her Face, with Rage grew Pale.
The lofty Hills, struck with his God-like Voice,
Appear to shake: when with a mournfull Noise
He on Pyrene calls; and under Ground
The Dens of Beasts, and all the Rocks, resound
Pyrene's Name: then sadly he prepares
Her Sepulchre, Embalming her with Tears.
Nor can the Teeth of Time destroy her Fame,
The Hills retaining her lamented Name.

Now, or'e the Airy Mountains, and through vast
Condensed Woods, bold Hannibal had past
The Bounds of Bebrix, and, by's armed Hand,
His Way, through the inhospitable Land
Of Volsians, breaks: untill His Army stood
Upon the Banks of that unruly Flood;
Which from the Alps, and Snowy Rocks, descends
Upon the Celtæ, and himself extends
Into a swelling Stream, that makes his Way
O're Land, with a large Current, to the Sea.
To its great Force mix'd Arar adds, that seems
To stand (so slow his Pace) with silent Streams;
Which Rhodanus once seising, bears away
In restless Billows, and, without Delay,
Drowns in the Main, and forceth it disclaim,
Near to its Native Shore, its Countrie's Name.
But now the Hostile River all invade:
While some upon their Heads, and Shoulders, lai'd

Their Arms; and, breaking through the Torrent, strive,
Which, on the adverse Bank, shall first arrive.
To Skifs, (that late were Trees) their Steeds they binde,
And Waft them o're: nor do they leave behinde
The Elephants, whose Fears awhile withstood;
For covering, with mighty Beams, the Flood,
So much by them abhorr'd, and ev'ry Plank
With solid Earth o're-spreading, from the Bank
The Beasts descend; whom to the other side
Swimming (as on the Ground) they gently guid.
The River, frighted with so vast a Weight
Of the fierce Herd, the threatning Billows strait
From's Sandy Bottom turns, and all his Springs
Lets loose, and, to his Aid, with Murmurs brings.

Now the Tricassian Coast the Army gains,
And fertile Fields; now through Vocuntian Plains
They move, where swift Druentia, troubled, rolls
Huge Stones, and Trunks of Trees, and so controlls
Their pleasant March: for from the Alps it springs,
And, thence with roaring Waves devolving, brings,
Eradicated Trees, and Quarries torn
From hollow Rocks, at the Creation born;
Then, deviating, his fallacious Streams
Turns from their Course, and is not what he seems.
The Fords deceitfull are, to Foot unstable,
The Chanel to small Barks innavigable:
But, then encreas'd by fall of sudden Storms,
O'rewhelms a Multitude of Men, with Arms
Surcharg'd; who, sinking in the foaming Waves,
Dismembred, in the Bottom finde their Graves.

But now, all Memory of Labours pass'd,
And Fears, the Alps, so near in View, displac'd.
All Parts with Frost, and undissolving Hail
Are cov'red, and Eternally prevail

To keep their aged Ice: the lofty Brow
O'th' airy Hills is bound about with Snow;
Which, opposite to Phœbus rising Beams,
Will know no Dissolution by his Flames.
As far, as the Tartarean Abyss
Of that pale Kingdom, where the Dwelling is
Of mournfull Ghosts, and Stygian Waters are
Removed, from the upper Earth: so far
Erected, through the Air, the Mountains rise,
And, with their Shadow, intercept the Skies.
No Springs, no Summer's Glories do appear:
But deform'd Winter still inhabits there,
And on the Cliffs perpetually defends
Her Seat, and thither, from all Quarters, sends
The swelling Clouds, and Hail-commixed Showres.
Here all the Storms, and Winds, their furious Powers
Dispose. Beyond the Rocks no Eyes extend
Their Sight; the Hills above the Clouds ascend.
Though Athos lay on Taurus, Rhodope
On Mimas, or though snowy Pelion be
On Ossa Heap'd, or Othrys were beheld
On Hæmus lai'd; to these they all must yield.
Alcides, first, to these unknown Abodes
Aspir'd to go: whom, cutting Clouds, the Gods
Beheld, and cleaving highest Hills, to clime
Those Rocks, untrod-on since the Birth of Time.
But now the Souldiers their March retard;
As if those sacred Bounds, which Nature barr'd;
Bearing those Impious Arms, they had transgrest,
And, going forward, should the Gods resist.
'Gainst which the General (whom nor the Height
O'th' Alps, nor Terrours of the Place, affright)
To cure their Minds, with Monsters terrifi'd,
And to recall their Courage, thus reply'd.

Is't not a Shame, that, through Obsequious Fear
Of Gods, You, that so many Trophies wear
Of War, now weary of Success, should yield
Your Backs to Snowy Hills, and be repell'd
With idle Terrours; while no Courage warms
Your Hearts, and You to Rocks submit your Arms.
Oh! (My Companions) think, You now assail
The Walls of Rome, or Jove's high Temple scale.
This Labour will give up into Your Hands
Ausonia, and bring Tyber into Bands;

This said; the Army, mov'd by promis'd Spoils,
In haste the Mountain climb, nor think what Toils
Ensue: while He commands them to forsake
Alcides Foot-steps, and new waies to take;
To tread in Paths, that might be call'd Their own,
And by Their Names, in future Times, be known.
Then through untroden Places, first of all,
He breaks, and, from the Top of Rocks, doth call
His Troops: and where, in hard congealed Frost,
In the white Cliffs, the slipp'ry Path was lost,
His Sword th'obdurate Ice divides, and now
Into deep, gaping, Pits of yielding Snow
Whole Squadrons sink; and, from the hollow Top,
To Bury them alive, fresh Ruins drop.
Sometimes fierce Corus, on his gloomy Wings
Collecting Snow, against their Faces flings;
Sometimes, uniting all his Rage in Storms,
From the Advent'rous Souldier takes his Arms;
Which, with the whirling Blasts, unto the Skies,
In Circles, that delude the Sight, arise.
The higher they Ascend, and seek to Ease
Their Steps, the more their Labours still encrease:
To one great Height, a greater doth succeed,
And ev'ry Hill another seems to breed.

Hence all their Sweats, and Labours, which before
They had O'recome, they durst not now Explore:
Such Fears repeated Objects do present,
And, wheresoe're their trembling Eies were bent,
The horrid Face of Winter, ever White
Appearing, gives sad Limits to their Sight.

So Mariners, that late forsook the Land,
And now amid'st the calmed Ocean stand,
While no propitious Wind, or gentle Blast,
Fills the loose Sails upon the steady Mast,
From the smooth Sea divert their weary Eies,
And fix their Expectation on the Skies.

Above these Miseries, and sad Distress
The Places gave; in a most fordid Dress,
An Alpine Band, like salvage Beasts, their Locks
Stiff with eternal Squallour, from the Rocks,
And aged Mountain-Caves, their Faces show;
And, with their constant Vigour, through the Snow,
Through Thorns, and invious Paths, by them alone
Frequented, and familiarly known,
By various Incursions, on Them prest,
And their enclosed Enemy infest.
All Places now assume another Form:
The Snow's made red with Blood; there Ice grew warm
With purple Streams; and that, which ne're before
Could be o'recome, resolvs, by reeking Gore.
And as, with Iron Feet, the Horse divide
The yielding Frost, their Hoofs, there fix'd, abide
Within the closing Ice. Nor was their Fall
The onely Mischief: but they leave withall
Their Limbs behind; which, by the piercing Frost,
Fall, as cut off, and there are sadly lost.
Through all these Miseries, when they had past
Twelve daies, as many tedious Nights; at last

To the desired Top they come, and there,
Hanging on broken Cliffs, their Tents they rear

But Cytherea (who, through Fear, grew Faint)
Goes to her Father, with this sad Complaint.
What stint of Punishment, I pray? what end
Of Plagues, shall the Æneades attend?
When shall they, after Toils by Sea, and Land,
Repose? Why now doth Carthage take in hand,
And labour thus, to drive my Progeny
From that Renowned City, giv'n by Thee?
See! on the Alps they Libya impose;
Threatning our Empire's Ruin: and the Woes
Of lost Sagunthus Rome may justly fear.
Oh! whither shall we Troy's last Ashes bear?
Those sacred Ruins, and th'Assarick Race,
With Vesta's Secrets? Give us, Jove, a Place,
Where we may Safely dwell. Is it so small
A thing; that they have Wandring sought, through all
The World, their Exile? Or shall Troy become,
Again, a Prey, in captivated Rome?

Thus Cytherea: whom the Thunderer
Thus answers. Erycina, cease to fear;
Nor let these high Attempts, or what's design'd,
By envious Libya, perplex thy Mind.
Thy Blood possesseth, and shall Long possess
The high Tarpeian Towr's: the Fates no less
Permit. By this great weight of War, will I
Perpend their Virtue, and their Valour Try.
Shall that brave Nation, that so long hath been
Inur'd to War, that hath with Triumph seen
So many their great Labours overpast,
The Honour of their Ancestours, at last,
Decline? Or shall they, whom our Seed did raise,
Who never spar'd their Blood in seeking Praise,

(Still thirsting after Fame) obscurely spend
Their Time, or with Inglorious Silence end
Their Daies, as poison'd with the Love of Ease?
Valour suppress'd doth perish by Degrees.
It is a mighty Work, not to be done
Without much Toil, and Labour, that alone,
Among so many valiant Nations, Rome
Should to her self the Reins of Rule assume:
Yet shall the Time arrive, when She shall be
The Chief, Ennobled by Calamity.
Hence their great Acts shall add unto the Skies
New Stars, and Names: hence Paulus shall arise;
Hence Fabius, and Marcellus, who shall be
Pleasing, for his Opimous Spoils, to Me.
These, by their Wounds, shall raise in Italy
An Empire, that not all the Luxury
Of their degen'rate Issuecan destroy.
And there's already born a Warlike Boy;
Who shall the Carthaginian recall
To his own Countrey, and, before the Wall
Of Carthage, of his Arms shall him deprive.
Then Cytherea shall thy Issue live
Long in Command; Then, by the Cures shall
Cœlestial Virtue to the Stars extoll
Her self: and, by their Sacred Rites, proclaim
A large Addition to Iülus Name.
Then from a Sabine Stock a Branch shall spring,
Whose Father shall enable him to bring
Trophies from unknown Thule, and shall be
The first, that Caledonian Woods shall see,
With his Victorious Troops; who shall confine,
Within his hollow Banks, the swelling Rhine;
Shall govern the rebellious African,
With Vigilance; and, when an aged Man

Palm-bearing Idumea shall subdue;
Nor shall He, after Death, those Kingdoms view,
That are for ever Dark, or th'Stygian Lake,
But of our Honours, and this Place, partake.
Then shall a Youth, excelling in his Strength
Of Understanding, on Himself, at length,
Assume the Burthen of His Father's Care,
And, in His Empire, have an equal Share:
He the Judæan War, so full of Rage,
Shall quite extinguish in his tender Age.
But, thou, Germanicus, who, though a Childe,
Thy Father's Acts transcendest, and hast fill'd
The yellow Germanes with an awfull Dread,
Fear not the Capitolian Fires; thy Head,
Amidst those Sacrilegious Flames, shall be
Preserv'd. Thou long, and happy daies shalt see:
To thee Gangetick Youth their Bows, unbent,
Shall offer up; and Bactria shall present
Her empty Quivers: from the Icy North
Thou shalt, in Triumph, bring thy Chariot forth,
And through the City ride: then from the East
Such Trophies gain; as Bacchus ne're possest.
Thou frozen Ister, scorning to give way
To Dardan Ensigns, shalt compell t'obey,
And in Sarmatick Limits shalt restrain.
Thou Romane Nephews, that shall Honour gain
By Eloquence, shalt in thy Speech excell:
To Thee the Learned Sisters, that do dwell
Near Thespian Springs, shall offer Sacrifice.
Thy Lyre shall sound more sweetly, then did his,
That Hebrus made to stand, and Rhodope
To follow, and shall utter things may be
Admir'd by Phœbus. Raised by thy Hand
On the Tarpeian Rocks, where Faith doth stand,

Ador'd of old, Rich Capitols shall shine,
And to the Stars their lofty Turrets joyn.
But thou, O born of Gods! which shalt give Birth
To future Deities, the happy Earth
Rule with thy Father's Power; thy Fate shall be
Retarded, and these Heav'nly Mansions thee
A late, and Aged, Guest shall entertain:
Quirinus shall give place, and Thou shalt gain
Between thy Brother, and thy Sire, a Throne,
And, near Thee fix'd, shall shine thy Starry Son.

While Jove the Series of Times to come
Doth thus unfold, the Libyan Captain, from
Th'unequal Hills, through Waies perplex'd, descends,
And, dubiously, on Quarries moist contends
To fix his sliding Steps. No furious Shocks
Of Foes deterr him: but the obvious Rocks;
Whose prone, and threatning Cliffs obstruct the Way;
So, as Besieg'd, they stand, and the Delay,
And Difficulties of their March lament:
Nor would the Time allow them to Foment
With Rest their frozen Limbs. They spend the Night
In Labour, and their Shoulders all unite,
With Speed, the Forests from the Hills to bring.
The highest Mountains naked made, they fling
The Trees in Heaps together, and surround
With Flames the Rocks: which, with a dreadful sound,
Now yielding to their Bars of Iron, breaks,
And, to the weary Troops, a Passage makes
Into Latinus Kingdom. When they'd past,
Through all these Miseries, the Alps; at last,
The General within the Taurine Plains
His Tents doth pitch, and there Encamp'd remains.

In the mean time, from Garamantian Sands,
With Ammon's Oracles, and dark Commands,

Bostar, with Joy, arrives, and doth appear
To glad their Hearts, as Jove himself were there;
And thus begins. Great Hannibal, whose Hand
Hath banish'd Bondage from thy Native Land;
We have through Libya pass'd, where Sands arise
Up to the Stars, and lift us to the Skies.
Us Earth, more furious, then the Raging Main,
Had almost swallow'd up: The barren Plain,
From the first Entrance, to the farthest Bound
Of Heav'n, extends: nor can an Hill be found
By Nature rais'd, in all that spacious Tract,
But what, with hollow Clouds of Sand impact,
The nimble-turning Whirlwinds build: or when
Fierce Africus, escaping from his Den,
To spoil the Earth; or Corus, that the Stars,
Doth with the Ocean wash, with furious Wars
Invade the Field, and with congested Sand
Make Heaps, that there in stead of Mountains stand:
Observing Stars, o're this inconstant Ground
We sail; for Day Our Voyage would confound.
And Cynosura, that a faithfull Star
Doth prove to the Sidonian Mariner,
The wand'ring Traveller, who seems t'abide
Still in the Midst, through the deep Plain doth guid.

But when we, weary, to the Sacred Grove,
And Woody Empire came, of horned Jove,
Where, on large Columns, stands the shining Fane;
With what a chearfull Brow our Entertain
Arisbas gave, (the God's divining Priest)
Who to his House conducted Me his Guest?
Near to the Temple, in the Grove, a Spring
Doth rise (a strange, and memorable Thing)
Which, at the Birth of Day, and its Decline,
Is Warm; when Sol, in midst of Heav'n, doth shine,

It soon grows Cold: but, in the Shades of Night,
That Heat is greater made, that shuns the Light.
Full of the God, these Places, then, he shews,
And Glebes, made wealthy without Help of Plows,
And chearfully thus speaks. This Shady Grove,
These Woods, whose Tops do touch the Feet of Jove,
Connex'd to Heav'n, here Prostrate, falling down,
Bostar adore; for unto whom unknown
Are Jove's fam'd Gifts, through all the World; the Pair
Of Doves, that in the Top of Thebæ were?
Of which, the first, that the Chaonian Land
Did touch, and on Dodona's Oak did stand,
Fill'd it with Prophecy. But that, which o're
Carpathian Seas, unto the Libyan Shore,
With Snowy Wings, repair'd; this sacred Seat
The Cytherean Bird did then create:
And where you Altars, and dark Groves, behold
Standing between the Horns (strange to behold)
Of a choice Ram, the Leader of the rest
O'th Wealthy Flock, from its inspired Breast
Answers, to the Marmarick People, sung.
Then out of Earth this Wood, thus Shady, sprung;
And Groves of aged Oaks, that now the Skies
Do seem to touch: and such at first did rise,
By antient Favour; keeping, as before,
Their Po'wr, and we with Altars warm adore.
While I these things with Admiration view,
Struck with a Noise of Terrour, open flew
The Temple-Doors, and strait a greater Light
Our Eyes beheld. The Priest, array'd in White,
Before the Holy Altars did appear,
The People all contending to go near.
Then I, as I was order'd, having pray'd:
Behold! the God doth suddenly invade

The Prophet; and, through all the Ecchoing Grove,
Grave Murmurs from the trembling Beams do move.
And, now, a Voice more loud, then usual, through
The yielding Air doth break. For Latium you
Intend (said he) and to infest with War
The Issue of Assaricus prepare.
I see what warlike Libya intends:
And now the cruel God of War ascends
His Chariot, and his furious Steeds expire,
Towards th'Hesperian Coast, a gloomy Fire,
While Blood upon their Reins doth largely flow.
But thou, who dost desire Events to know
Of Battels, and th'Extremities of Fate,
(Couragiously attempting Toyls so Great)
Th'Ætolian Captain's Iapygian Field
Invade, encrease of Honour thou shalt yield
To thy Sidonian Fathers: after Thee,
Into the Bowels of rich Italy,
No Conquerour shall further penetrate;
Till, by thy Hand subdu'de, the Dardan State
Shall tremble, and their Youth ne're quit their Fears,
While Hannibal alive, on Earth, appears.

These Oracles brought Bostar, and Desires
Of present Battel into all inspires.

The End of the Third Book.

The Fourth Book.

The Argument.

The People's Fears, when Hannibal had past
The Alpine Hils: the Senate's Care, and Haste
T'oppose His Progress. On Ticinus Shore
The Armies meet. What Auguries, before
The Fight begun, foretold the Libyans Stay
In Italy: the Romanes lose the Day.
Scipio in Fight's relieved by his Son,
Then but a Boy. The Romanes, marching on
To Trebia, their Arms with Gracchus join,
And lose a second Day. The Apennine
When Hannibal had with His Army crost,
In Cold, and Moorish Grounds, an Eye He lost.
His Son, demanded for a Sacrifice
To Saturn, by the Senate, He denies;
And promiseth hereafter to make good
Those Rites, again, with Noble Romane Blood.

Now Fame Ausonia's frighted Cities fills
With Rumours; That the Cloud-encompass'd Hills,
And Rocks, that threatned Heaven, the War imbrac'd;
That now the Carthaginians had pass'd
Those pathless Waies: and often doth repeat,
That Hannibal, who seem'd to emulate

Alcides Labours, did the Plain possess.
And thus mischievous Tumults doth express,
Encreasing as She goes; and, Swifter far,
Then swiftest Winds, with the Report of War,
Shakes the affrighted Tow'rs. The People's Fear
(Apt to believe the Vainest things they hear)
The Rumour feeds. Now all with Care, and Speed,
Prepare for War, the Noise whereof is spread
Through all Ausonia, must'ring Arms, and Men.
They whet their Piles, and (Rust wip'd off agen)
Its cruel Splendour to the Steel restore.
The Youth their Plumed Helmets, long before
Lai'd up in Peace, repair: their Loops they join
To Darts; and new, from Forges, Axes shine.
With these, impenetrable Coats of Mail
They form, and Breast-Plates, destin'd to prevail
'Gainst many Hands, and frustrate strongest Blows.
Some, carefully, provide Italian Bows;
While others teach the panting Steeds to wheel,
Or trot the Round; and whet on Stones their Steel.
Then with like Care, and Speed, they Stones convay
To antient Walls, and Castles; whose Decay
Was wrought by Time: in these their Magazin
Of Arms they make, and speedily begin
With Bars of Oak their Trenches, and their Gates
To fortifie; while Fear precipitates
All that they Act, and doth in chief Command.
Some in the Desert Fields, amazed, stand;
Others their Houshold-Gods, and Home forsake,
And, frighted, on their trembling Shoulders take
Their feeble Parents, whose weak Thread of Life
Was almost spent. One drives before, his Wife,
With Locks dishevel'd, dragging a little Son,
That in each Hand unequally doth run.

Thus do the People vent their Fears, nor scan
The Cause, or whence those Rumours first began.

The Senate, though these bold Beginnings fill'd
Their Hearts with Terrour, and they now beheld,
Ev'n in the Heart of Italy, a War,
To which the Alps, and pathless Rocks, from far
Seem'd to descend, oppose a valiant Mind
Against Adversity, resolv'd to finde
Honour in Dangers, and by Valour raise
A Name so great, of such Immortal Praise,
As Fortune never did before bestow,
Or to the best Successes would allow.

But, now, his Troops, chill'd with a long Excess
Of Cold, and Tyr'd, doth Hannibal Caress
In safe Retreats, and to their joyfull Eyes
Shews through rich Fields their Way, and Rome their Prize.
Yet He omits not to pursue the Cares
Of War; and, still consulting his Affairs,
He, onely, takes no Rest. As, when of old
Ausonia's happy Territory bold,
And Warlike, Nations fiercely did invade,
And by their Valour to the World were made
A Terrour, the Tarpeian Thunderer,
And Captiv'd Romanes, felt a cruel War.
While He endeavours, with his Gifts, the vain,
And wav'ring, Nations to his Side to gain,
And join in Arms; the Consul Scipio from
Massilia, by Sea, returning Home,
Arrived, suddenly, upon the Shore:
And these great Captains, that had try'd before
The sev'ral Labours of the Sea, and Land,
Now, in the Plain, more near to Danger stand,
And joyn their Fates; while a most dismal Hour
Approach'd. For, when the Consul, with His Power,

Came to the Camp, and Fortune all Delay
Had lai'd aside, the Troops no longer Stay
Endure; but all, incensed with Desire
Of Fight, the Fo in view, the Sign require.
The Tyrian Captain then, to animate
His num'rous Army, doth aloud relate
His glorious Conquests in th'Iberian War:
That not Pyrene's Hills could set a Bar
To his Commands; nor furious Rhodanus:
Sagunthus burnt; that, through the Celtæ, thus
He had, conqu'ring, made his Way, and where 't had been
Alcides Labour, he in Arms had seen
His Libyan Horse insult; and, trampling on
The Rocks, with Neighing make the Alps to groan.
But, contrary, the Consul to the Fight,
And noble Actions, doth his Men excite.

You have (said He) a Tyr'd, and weary Fo,
Already half consum'd with Frost, and Snow:
Who scarce can drag his Limbs, benumm'd with Cold.
Go on, and let him Learn, that was so Bold
To pass those Sacred Mountains, and those high
And airy Rocks, how far this Trench doth ly
Above Herculean Tow'rs: that with more Ease
He may ascend those Hills; then break through these
Impenetrable Ranks. Let him recite
To Fame his vain Attempts, untill in Fight
Subdu'd, and hasting to Return again
By the same Way he came, the Alps restrain
His Flight. The Gods have brought him hither, through
Those Difficulties, that he might imbrue,
With his perfidious Blood, th'Italian Ground,
And that his Bones, hereafter, may be found
Scatter'd in hostile Land. I fain would know,
If't be another Carthage, that doth now

Intend us War, or is't the same again,
That, near Ægates, perish'd in the Main?

This said; the Army to Ticinus goes.
Ticinus in a shallow Chanel flows
With clear, and quiet Waters, and the Stream
So Slowly passeth on; that it doth seem
To Stand, as it, with Silence, glides along
T'embrace the shady Banks, where Birds do throng,
And their shrill Quires perpetually keep,
As if to charm the lazy Flood asleep.

Now, at Night's Period, the Morn begun
With shining Shades, and Sleep its Course had run:
When, to explore the Place's Nature, round
The neighb'ring Hill, and view the Champagn-ground,
The Consul went abroad: the Libyans too
The like resolve, and it with Care pursue.
This done, they both advance into the Field,
With Wings of Horsemen; and, as they beheld
The Clouds of Dust to rise, and heard the Sound
Of furious Steeds, that, prancing, made the Ground
To tremble, and the Trumpet's shrill Alarms,
Each Captain cries, Now (Souldiers!) to your Arms.
In both, an equal Valour, and Desire
Of Honour, shin'd, in both an equal Fire
To press into the Fight: and when, as nigh
They came, as from a Sling a Dart might fly,
A sudden Augury diverts their Eyes,
And Minds (all Clouds dispers'd) unto the Skies.
An Hawk pursuing, from the South, the fair,
And gentle Birds, that by Dione are
So well belov'd, with his devouring Bill,
His Pounces, and his Wings, fifteen did kill;
Nor would be satisfied: his strong Desire
Of Blood increas'd, and Slaughter fed the Fire;

Untill, as stooping at a trembling Dove,
That knew not, in its Flight, which Way to move
To meet with Safety, from the Rise of Day
An Eagle came; and, frighting him away,
Towards the Romane Ensigns flies, and where
The General's Son (young Scipio) did appear
(Then but a Boy) in Arms, with a loud Cry
There twice, or thrice, Proclaims the Victory:
Then, with his Bill, his Helmet's Crest doth bite,
And to the Stars again resumes his Flight.
Liger, who knew, by his Divining Skill,
The God's Advice, and by his Learned Quill
Could Future things declare, aloud, to all,
Exclaims. Full eighteen years the Libyan shall
Th'Ausonian Youth in Italy pursue,
Like that rapacious Bird, and shall imbrue
His Hands in Blood, and wealthy Trophies gain.
But yet, proud African, thy Rage restrain;
For, see! Jove's Thunder-Bearer Thee denies
Italian Scepters. Chief of Deities
Be present! may thy Eagle's Omen be
At length confirm'd. For, noble Youth, to Thee
The final Fates of conquer'd Libya are
Reserv'd, and a most glorious Name in War;
Greater then Carthage, in her Height of Pride,
Unless those Birds, in Flight, the Gods bely'd.

But Bogus, contrary to this, doth sing
All happy Omens to the Tyrian King.
The Hawk a good Presage; The Doves, that fell,
Slain in their Airy Region, foretell
The Fall, and Ruin, of the Romane State.
Thus having said, as Conscious of Fate,
And prompted by the Gods; He, first, doth throw
With Strength, a ready Jav'lin at the Fo:

But, through the spacious Field, 't had Vainly flown,
And lost its killing Force; if Riding on
Full Speed, Ambitious to be first of all,
That gave the Charge, bold Catus Horse ith' Fall
Had not receiv'd it, on his Face; and, though
It then was weak, he met the Fatal Blow,
And found his Ruin: for the trembling Wood,
Fix'd in his Front, between his Temples stood.
Now, with loud shouts, both Armies, through the plain,
Came rushing on, and meeting, all Restrain
Their Reins, to stand the Charge. The furious Steed
Erected stands, and struggling to get Head,
Flies, like a Tempest, through the Champagne-Field;
While to his Feet the Sand doth hardly yield.
Before the rest, a nimble Active Band

Of Boii, whom stout Chryxus did command,
Assault the Van; and Chryxus, with a Rage,
Great as his Giant-Body, doth engage.
From Brennus, He his fam'd Original
Deriv'd; and, now, the Conquer'd Capitol
Among his Titles wore: upon his Shield
The Pensive Romanes, ready all to yield,
On the Tarpeian Sacred Hill behold
The Celtæ, weighing their redeeming Gold.
His Iv'ry-Neck a Golden Chain did bear,
His Garments with pure Gold Embroider'd were,
Bracelets of massie Gold adorn his Wrest,
And the like Metal shin'd upon his Crest:
By his fierce Onset, the Camertine Bands
At first were routed. Nothing now withstands
The Boii; who, in a condensed Throng,
Break through the thickest Ranks, and, mix'd among
The Barb'rous Senones, beneath the Feet
Of their fierce Horses, trample all they meet,

And strew, with mangled Corps, the Field, which seems
To swim in Blood, that in continued Streams
From Men, and Horses, flows, and doth imbrue
The sliding Steps of them, that still pursue.
Bodies half-dead, by Horses hoofs, are slain
Out-right, which, flying round the fatal Plain,
Scatter'd from their light Heels the purple Flood,
And lave the Wretches Faces with their Blood.
Tyrrhenus, born near high Pelorus Shore,
First dying, stained with his purple Gore
A conqu'ring Dart; for, as he did excite,
With a shrill Trumpet, others to the Fight,
Reviving Courage by the Warlike Sound,
Received, by a Barb'rous Dart, a Wound
In's panting Throat: which quickly doth impair
The rising Noise, yet the infused Air,
Blown from his dying Mouth, awhile, doth pass
(His Lips now silent) through the winding Brass:
Picens, and Laurus, both by Chryxus dy.
But yet not both alike: for Laurus by
His Sword was slain; selected near the Po,
A polish'd Spear, gave Picens fatal Blow.
For, as aside he turned, to Delude
(By wheeling round) the Fo, that him pursu'd,
The Spear, at once, both penetrates his Thigh,
And's Horses Flank; and both together dy
Next he wounds Venulus, and from his Neck
Retires the Weapon stain'd with Blood, to check
Thy Speed (rash Farfarus) who by the same
Dost likewise fall: with Tullus, near the Stream
Of cold Velinus bred, Ausonia's Pride,
And of a glorious Name, had he not dy'd;
Or had the Tyrians their League maintain'd.
With these the great Tyburti, who had gain'd

Renown in Wars, and Romulus his Hand
Sent to the Shades below. Hispellas, and
Metaurus, Daunus too, his Ruin found
From him, whom, with his Lance, he thought to wound.
Nor was there room for Tyrians to engage
In Battel, with the rest. The Celtick Rage
Fill'd the whole Field: no Shafts from any Hand
Were sent in Vain; but fix'd in Bodies stand.
Here, among trembling Files, Quirinus, high
In Courage, and disdaining Thoughts to fly,
Resolv'd to meet, with an undaunted Mind,
His Fate, if prosp'rous Fortune once declin'd:
Inflames his furious Courser with his Spear,
And with his Arms disperseth here, and there,
The Shafts, that him invade; thinking to make
His Way, and through the thickest Ranks to break,
T'attach the King: and, certain to receive
His Death, attempts by Valour to atchieve
That Honour, he could not survive. A Wound
Into the Groin of Teutalus, the Ground
Doth make to tremble, with his weighty Fall.
Next Sarmens dy'd, for Valour known to all:
Who his long yellow Tresses, that out-shin'd
Pure Gold, contracted in a Knot behind,
Had vow'd (if He return'd a Conquerour)
A Sacrifice to Thee, the God of War.
But the stern Fates, regarding not his Vow,
Him, with his Hair unshorn, to th'Shades below
Untimely sent. O're all his Snow-white Limbs,
The reeking Blood, in Streams diffused, Swims,
And stains the Earth. Lycaunus, whom a Dart,
That met him, as he mov'd, could not divert,
Rush'd in, and, waving his Revenging Sword,
With all the Strength, that Fury could afford,

Upon his Shoulder gives a fatal Wound,
Where his left Arm (by yielding Sinews bound)
Its Strength, and Motion did receive; which now
Hangs loosely down, and lets the Bridle go:
And, as he, Stooping, labour'd to retain,
Within his trembling Hand, the Reins again,
From's Body Vegasus lop'd off his Head,
And in his Helmet, as it largely bled,
Ty'd to his Horse's Main, it bears about;
The Gods saluting with a barb'rous Shout.

While thus the Field the Gauls with Slaughter feed;
The Consul, mounted on a Milk-white Steed,
Into the Fight advanc'd, with fresh Supplies:
And first, of all, with high-rais'd Courage, flies
On the prevailing Fo, On Him attend
The choicest Youth, that Italy could send.
The Marsi, Coræ, and the Latines Pride,
Sabellus, who by all was magnifi'd
For flinging his swift Dart with certain Skill:
With stout Tudertes, from his Native Hill,
Devote to Mars; and the Falisci, who,
Deck'd in their Countries-Linen, Wars pursue;
With these, that by a silent River, near
Herculean Walls, their wealthy Orchards rear,
With Apples crown'd. Next the Catilli came,
That dwell on Banks, where Anyo's swift Stream
To Tyber hasts; and those, that from their Slings
Send Hernick Stones, hardned in freezing Springs.
Nor were they absent, that inhabit where
Casinum still is crown'd with misty Air.
Thus went th'Italian Youth to War, and by
Th'unequal Gods were destin'd there to dy.
But Scipio, where the Fury of the Fo
Did highest Triumph in the Overthrow,

And Slaughter of his Men, spurs on his Horse;
And, as if from their Fall inspir'd with Force,
To their sad Ghosts kills frequent Sacrifice.
There Padus, Labarus, and Camus dies:
Brennus, whom many Wounds could scarce destroy;
And Larus, that, like Gorgon, turn'd his Eye.
And there Leponticus by cruel Fate,
Most fiercely fighting, fell: for, snatching at
The Consul's Reins, and, as he stood Upright
Afoot, the Horsman equal'd in his Height,
With his sharp Sword his Head the Consul cleaves,
And it, divided on his Shoulders, leaves.
Next Abbatus; that, in its furious Course,
Endeavour'd, with his Shield, to stop his Horse;
Was by a Kick struck dead, upon the Place;
The Beast still trampling on his wounded Face.
The Romane Captain, through the bloody Plain,
Thus raging Rides: as, when th'Icarian Main
Cold Boreas, with victorious Blasts, doth raise
From its deep Bottom, over all the Seas,
In batter'd Ships, the Mariners are tost,
And in white Foam the Cyclades are lost.
Chryxus now seeing Hopes of Life declin'd,
And Death's Approach, confirms his valiant Mind
With a contempt of Fate. His horrid Beard
Shin'd with a bloody Foam: his Jaws appear'd
All white with Froth: his Locks, with flying Sand,
And Dust made squallid, stiff, like Bristles, stand.
Thus Tarius fiercely he invades, who nigh
The Consul fought, and with strong Blows doth ply:
Then fells him to the Ground; for with a Spear,
(That his last Fate upon its Point did bear)
Wounded, he tumbles Headlong from his Steed:
Which mov'd by Fear, with uncontrouled Speed,

Drags him (his Legs fast in the Stirrop bound)
About the Field. Blood issuing from the Wound
Leaves a long winding Tract, that, with his Spear
Trail'd in his Hand, doth in the Dust appear.
The Consul prais'd his Death, and doth prepare
To vindicate his Ghost: when through the Air
An horrid Noise was heard; and he descries
Those Shouts commended Chryxus, whom his Eys,
Scarce known before, beheld. His Anger now
Grew high, and viewing, with a troubled Brow,
His Giant-Body, with a gentle Hand
Clapping his Horse's Neck, he makes a Stand,
And thus bespeaks him. We, as yet, have made
A vulgar War, and to the Stygian Shade
Have sent down People of no Name at all:
But, my Garganus, now, the Gods us call
To greater Actions. See'st thou not how great
Chryxus appears? To thee I'le Dedicate
Those Trappings, that with Tyrian Lustre shine:
Their Grace, and golden Reins shall all be thine.
This said: he Chryxus in the open Plain
Aloud provokes the Combate to maintain.
His willing Enemy the like Desire
Inflames. On either Side the Troops retire,
Commanded to give way, and strait beheld
The Champions in the Lists, amidst the Field.
Great as the Earth-born Mimas did appear
In the Phlegræan Plains, when Heav'n for Fear
Ev'n trembled at his Arms: from's salvage Breast
Such cruel Chryxus, here, himself exprest
With horrid Murmuring: and, to engage
His valiant Fo, with Howling whets his Rage,
And thus, insulting, speaks. Do none Survive
In Burnt, and Captivated Rome, could give

Thee Notice, what brave Hands the Progeny
Of Brennus bring to War? now Learn of Me:
And, as he spake, a knotty Beam of Oak,
That would have shaken with its weighty Stroak
A Citie's Gates, he flings. A dreadfull Sound
It makes, and, falling vainly, tears the Ground:
For, having lost his Distance, by a Throw
Too strong, it flew beyond his nearer Fo.
To him the Consul answers: Take to Hell
This with Thee, and remember, that thou tell
Thy Grand-sire, how far distant thou didst fall
From the Tarpeian-Hill: and say withall,
It was not lawfull for thee once to view
The Capitol. And, as he spake, he threw
A Jav'lin (fitted to destroy so vast
A Fo) which, from the thong with vigour cast,
Pierc'd through his Cassock's num'rous Folds, and through
His Coat of Mail, which Nerves confirm'd, into
His Breast, whose Depth the Weapon wholly drown'd:
With a vast Ruin, prostrate on the Ground
He falls. The suff'ring Earth beneath the Weight
Of's Arms, and Body, groans, and feels his Fate.
So on the Tyrrhene Coast the Hills, that stand
T'oppose the Billows, that invade the Land,
Struck by impetuous Storms, immanely roar,
And raving Nereus, beating on the Shore,
The Waves, divided by their furious Shocks,
Drown in the angry Deep the broken Rocks.
Their Captain slain, the Celtæ all to flight
Themselves, and Hopes, commit; their Courage quite
Declines. As when, on the Pyrænean-Hill,
The busie Hunter, with Sagacious Skill
Searching the secret Dens, to rouze his Game
From their thick Coverts, fires the Thornes: the Flame

100

With Silence gathers Strength, and to the Skies
Dark Clouds of pitchy Smoke aspiring rise;
Then all on fire the Hill doth strait appear,
Loud Noises fill the Woods: The Beasts, for fear,
And Birds, forsake their Shelter, and from far
Through all the Vale the Cattle frighted are.
When Mago saw the Celtick Troops were gone,
And their first Onset (which in them, alone,
Is vigorous) was lost, he strait doth call
His Countreymen to fight: and first of all
The Horse-men; who appear on ev'ry Side
In Troops, and, without Reins, or Bridles ride.
Now the Italians fly, and then renew
The Fight. The Tyrians then for Fear withdrew,
And now advance again. These their Right Wing
In Moon-like Circles lead; The other bring
Their Left alike in Form: Alternately
In Close-form'd Globes they fight, and, when they fly,
With Art avoid the Slaughter of the Fo.
So, when the Winds from sev'ral Quarters blow,
Fierce Boreas one way drives the swelling Main,
Which Eurus meeting tumbles back again,
And with alternate Blasts, both furious, throw
The Ocean (that obeys them) to and fro.
At length in Tyrian Purple shining, wrought
With Gold, comes Hannibal, and with Him brought
Terrour, and Fear, and Fury to the Field.
And soon as He His bright Callaick Shield
Held up, and struck a piercing Light through all,
Their Hopes, and Valour both together fall.
Their trembling Souls cast off all Shame of Flight:
None care to seek a noble Death in Fight.
Resolv'd to fly, they rather wish to know
Death by the gaping Earth, then by the Fo.

101

So when a Tiger from's Caucasean Den
Descends, the Fields forsaken are by Men,
And Beasts. All, as distracted, fly for Fear,
And Shelter seek; while, as a Conqe'rour,
He wanders up, and down, the desart Plain,
And now extends, then shuts his Jaws again,
As if some present Carcass he did eat;
And, gaping wide, doth Slaughter meditate.
Him nor could Metabus, nor Ufens shun:
Though Ufens, very tall, did swiftly run;
And Metabus, full Speed, on Horse-back fled:
For Metabus was with his Lance struck dead;
And Ufens, falling on his Knees, did bleed
By's Sword: so lost his Life, and Praise of Speed.
Then Sthenius, Laurus, and Collinus dy.
Collinus, born in a cold Climate, nigh
The Chrystal Caves of Fusinus, and o're
That Lake, by Swimming, pass'd from either Shore.
The next Companion of their Fate, that fell
Was Massicus; born on that Sacred Hill,
That crown'd with fruitfull Vines doth bear his Name,
Near Lyris nurs'd, that with a silent Stream
Its Course dissembleth, and with glitt'ring Waves,
Unchang'd by Rain, the quiet Margent Laves.
But now the Heat of Slaughter grew so high,
That they could scarce finde Weapons to supply
Their Active Rage; Shields clash on Shields, and Feet
On Feet do press: and, as they, Furious, meet,
Encountring close, the waving Crests, that crown'd
Their Helmets, mutually their Fore-Heads wound.
Three famous Twins, all valiant Brothers, whom
Sidonian Barcè, happy in her Womb,
In time of War, unto Xantippus bare,
Most fiercely fighting, in the Van appear.

102

Their Power, and Wealth in Greece, their Father's Fame
(A valiant Captain) with Amycle's Name,
And Regulus, in Spartan Fetters bound,
With all that their Fore-Fathers had renown'd,
Inflam'd their Minds, in Arms to prove their high
Descent, and by their Deeds to testifie
That they from Lacon sprang: to visit then
The cold Taygeta, and Wars again
Allai'd, through their Eurotas sail, and see
Those Rites, Lycurgus, were ordain'd by Thee.
But Heav'n, and three Ausonian Brothers, who
In Age, and Courage, equalled the Fo,
Sent by Aricia from those lofty Groves,
Where Numa with the Nymph his secret Loves
Enjoy'd, deny'd they should to Sparta go.
Nor would the too impartial Fates allow,
That they Diana's Altars should behold,
And Sacred Lakes. For now the fierce, and bold
Clytias, Eumachus, and Xantippus, proud
Of's Father's Name, engaged in the Croud,
And Heat of all the Fight. As when, within
The Libyan Plains, the Lyons do begin
A War among themselves, their Roaring fills
The Fields, and Cottages; or'e secret Hills,
And pathless Rocks, th'affrighted Moor doth fly;
His Wife endeavouring to suppress the Cry
O'th' tender Infant, hanging at the Teat
Of her large Breast; the raging Beasts repeat
Their Murmurs, and between their bloody Jaws
Crash broken Bones: while limbs beneath their Claws,
And cruel Teeth, still fight; as if with Scorn
To seem to yield, though from the Body torn:
So the Egerian Youth, fierce Virbius, here,
There Capys press to fight; Albanus there,

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Alike in Arms: Him Clytias by Chance,
Stooping to shun a Blow, strikes with his Lance,
Quite through the Belly. Strait his Bowels fill'd,
Extruded by his Fall, his hollow Shield.
Next by stout Eumachus was Capys slain:
Who, as if fix'd, endeavour'd to retain
His Target; till a Sword from his Left Side
Lopp'd off his Arm, and by the Wound he dy'd:
While his unhappy Hand refus'd to yield
Its Hold, and stuck unto the falling Shield.
Two of the three thus miserably slain,
The last great Conquest Virbius doth remain:
Who, as he fain'd to fly, Xantippus slew
With his keen Sword, and eager to pursue
Eumachus by his Jav'lin likewise falls.
And thus the Fight by double Funerals
Is equal made. Then the Survivers dy'd
By mutual Wounds, and lai'd their Rage aside.
Oh happy you, whom noble Piety,
Urging your Fate, did thus perswade to dy!
Such Brothers future Times shall wish to see,
And your last valiant Acts your Memory
Shall crown with Honour; if our Verses live,
Or miserable Nephews, that survive,
Shall read these Monuments your Virtues claim,
And great Apollo envy not Our Fame.

But now his Troops, dispers'd through all the Plains,
The Consul, with his Voice, from Flight restrains,
While He could use His Voice. Whither d'ye bear
Those Ensigns? How are you destroy'd by Fear?
If the first Place of Battel you affright,
Or you want Courage in the Front to fight,
Behinde Me stand; but lay aside your Fear,
And see Me fight. Their Fathers Captives were,

104

From whom you fly. What Hopes can we pretend,
If once subdu'd? Shall we the Alps ascend?
Oh! think, you see Tower-bearing Rome, whose Head
Her Walls do crown, submissively, now, spread
Her Hands; while her proud Foes her Sons enchain;
Daughters are ravish'd, and their Parents slain.
And in their Blood, me thinks, I see the Fire
Of holy Vesta now (alass) expire.
Oh! then prevent this Sin. Thus having said,
His Jaws with Dust, and Clamour, weary made;
His Left Hand snatching up the Reins; the Right
His Sword; his Breast to those, that fled the Fight,
He doth oppose: now threatens Them, and then
Himself to Kill, unless they turn agen.

These Armies when, from high Olympus, Jove
Beheld, the noble Consul's Dangers move
His Mind to Pitty. Then, he calls his Son
(The God of War) and to Him thus begun.
My Son, I fear that gallant Man's not far
From Ruin, if thou tak'st not up the War.
Withdraw him, full of Fury, from the Fight;
Forgetfull of Himself, through the Delight
Of Slaughter. Stop the Libyan General,
Who will more glory in the Consul's Fall,
Then all those Numbers, that He doth destroy.
Thou seest, besides, how soon that Warlike Boy
His tender Hands in Battel doth engage,
And strives by Action to transcend his Age,
Thinking it tedious to be young in War.
Thou guiding Him, he shall hereafter dare
T'attempt Great things, and his first Trophie shall
Be to prevent his Noble Father's Fall.

Thus Jove; strait Mars from the Odrysian Field
His Chariot summons, and assumes his Shield:

105

Which, like a gloomy Thunder-bolt, its Beams
Scatters abroad: his Helmet too, that seems
To other Deities a Weight too great:
And's Breast-Plate, that with so much Toil, and Sweat
The lab'ring Cyclops form'd: then shakes his Spear,
Stain'd with the Blood of Titans, through the Air,
And with his Chariot fills the dusty Plain.
The dire Eumenides, and dreadfull Train
Of Furies him attend, and ev'ry where
Innumerable Forms of Death appear:
While fierce Bellona, who doth guid the Reins,
Whips on his Steeds, and all Delay disdains.
Then from the troubled Heav'n a Tempest forth
Doth break, and in dark Clouds involves the Earth.
His Entrance ev'n the Court of Jove doth shake,
And Rivers, by his Chariots Noise, forsake
Their Banks, and, struck with Horrour, backward fly
To their first Springs, and leave their Chanels dry.
The Garamantian Bands, now, ev'ry where
Invest with Darts the Consul, and prepare
New Presents for the Tyrian Prince: the Spoils
Of his rich Arms, his Head, through many Toils
Of that sad Day, bedew'd with Sweat, and, Blood.
While He, not to give way to Fortune, stood
Resolv'd, and then, more fierce with Slaughter grown,
Returns the num'rous Darts against him thrown.
Till over all his Limbs the Blood of Foes,
Mix'd with his own, in Streams diffused flows,
And then, his Crest declining, in a Ring
More closely girt, the Garamantians fling
Their steeled Shafts, with nearer Aim, and all,
Like Storms of Hail, at once, about him fall.

But, when his Son perceiv'd a Dart to be
Fix'd in his Father's Body (as if He

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Had felt the deadly Wound) his pious Tears
Bedews his Cheeks, and Paleness strait appears,
To run o're all his Body, and with Groans,
That pierce the Skies, his Danger he Bemoans.
Twice he Attempted, to anticipate
By piercing his own Breast, his Father's Fate:
As oft the God of War converts his Rage
Against the Fo; with whom he doth engage,
And, Fearless, through the armed Squadrons flies,
And, in his furious Speed, doth equalize
The Deity, his Guid. The Troops, that round
His Father fight, give Way, and on the Ground
A Tract of Blood appears. Where er'e he goes,
(Protected by the Heavenly Shield) he mows
Whole Squadrons down. On heaps of Arms he Slew,
Such as oppos'd his Rage, with him that Threw
The Dart, who dy'd before his Father's Eys;
With many more, as pleasing Sacrifice.
Then, snatching from the Bones the fixed Spear,
Upon his Neck, from Danger, he doth bear
His fainting Sire. The Troops at such a Sight
Amazed stand: the Libyans cease to fight:
Th'Iberians all give way. A Piety
So great, in tender Years, turns ev'ry Eye
Upon him, to Admire what they beheld,
And strikes deep Silence through the dusty Field.
Then said the God of War: Thou Dido's Towers
Hereafter shalt destroy; and Tyrian Powers,
Compell'd by Thee, a League shall entertain:
Yet never shalt thou greater Honour gain,
Then this. Go on (brave Youth) go on, and prove
Thy self to be, indeed, the Son of Jove.
Go on: for greater Things reserved be;
Though better never can be giv'n to Thee.

107

This said: the Sun now stooping to the Main,
The Deity returns to Heav'n again,
Involv'd in Clouds. Darkness the Fight decides,
And, in their Camps, the weary Armies hides.

But, when in her declining Wain the Night
Phœbe withdrew, and, by her Brother's Light,
The rosie Flames from the Eöan Main
Gilded the Margent of the Skies again;
The Consul, fearing that the Plain might be
A great Advantage to the Enemy,
To Trebia, and the Mountains, takes his Way.
And now the winged Hours advanc'd the Day,
When with much Toil the Bridg was broken down,
(O're which the Romane Army pass'd) and thrown
Into the Flood: when to the Rapid Stream
Of swift Eridanus, the Libyan came;
Seeking, by marching round, through various Waies,
The Fords, and where its Course the River staies:
Trees from the Neighb'ring Groves at length he takes,
And, to transport his Troops, a Navy makes.
The valiant Consul (from the antient Line
O'th' Gracchi sprang, whose Ancestours did shine
In Monuments, with noble Titles crown'd,
For Valour, both in Peace, and War Renown'd)
Thither, from high Pelorus, came by Sea,
Incamping near the Banks of Trebia.
The Carthaginians, likewise, in the Plain
(The River over-pass'd) encamp'd remain,
Encourag'd by Success of their Affairs:
While their insulting General prepares
Their Minds, and to their Fury still doth give
Fresh Fewel. What third Consul doth survive
In Rome? (said He) What other Sicily
Remaineth now in Arms against us? See!

108

All the Italian Bands, and Daunian Line,
Are met. Now let the Latine Princes joyn
In League with Me; now let them Laws require.
But thou, that in the Fight, unhappy Sire,
Ow'st to thy Son thy Life, so may'st thou live!
May'st thou to him again that Honour give!
May'st thou not dy in War so old! 'tis I,
(When Fate shall call) that must in Battel dy.
This with high Rage express'd; he doth advance
With his Massilian Troops, and with his Lance,
Ev'n at the Trenches, doth provoke the Fo.
The Latine Souldiers, scorning thus to ow
Their Safety to their Rampires, and to hear
The Gates to Eccho with an Hostile Spear,
Break forth: and through the Breach, before the Rest,
The valiant Consul flies. The plumed Crest
Of his bright Helmet waving with the Wind;
His Cassock stain'd with honour'd Blood behind:
He calls, with a loud Voice, the following Bands,
And, where the Fo in strongest Bodies stands,
He breaks his Way, and chargeth through the Plain,
As when a furious Torrent, swell'd with Rain,
Falling from lofty Pindus Top, doth fill
The Vallies with a Noise; as if the Hill,
By some rude Tempest, were in Pieces torn:
The Heards, and salvage Beasts, and Woods are born
Away; the foaming Waves o're all prevail,
And pass with Roaring through the stony Dale.
Could I like the Mæonian Prophet sing,
Or would Apollo, to assist me, bring
An hundred Voices, I could not declare
What Slaughter here the Consul made: what there
The Libyan's Fury acted. Hannibal
Murranus, and the Romane General

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Phalantus, old in Labours, and for Skill
In War all famous, hand to hand, did kill.
From Anxur's stormy Cliffs Murranus: from
Sea-wash'd Tritonis did Phalantus come.
But when, by his Illustrious Habit shown,
The Consul was engag'd, Cupentus, one
Depriv'd of half his Sight, that with one Eye
Pursu'd the War, assaults him suddenly;
And fixeth in the Margent of his Shield
His trembling Lance. The Consul him beheld
With boiling Rage; Now (Villain) lay aside
(Said he) what ever Mischief thou dost hide
Beneath thy Ugly, and Deformed Brow.
And, as he spake, with Aim, directly through
His glaring Eye he thrusts his fatal Spear.
No less incens'd doth Hannibal appear;
By whom, in silver Arms, unfortunate
Varrenus fell: Varrenus, whom of late
Fertile Fulginia's wealthy Fields with Gain
Enrich'd, and, wandring in the open Plain,
His curled Bulls, as white as Alpine Snow,
Return'd from cold Clitumnus Stream: but now
The Gods were angry, and those Victimes prove
Nourish'd in vain; which for Tarpeian Jove,
With so much Care, by him were fed before.
Then light Iberians with the nimble Moor
Advance. Here Piles, there Libyan Arrows fly;
So thick, from either Side, they hide the Sky:
And all the Space, between the River's Shore,
And Champagn-Ground, with Darts is cover'd o're.
So thick they stand, the Wounded have no Room
To Fall, and Dy. There Allius, that from
Argyripa, through Daunian Fields, with rude
Unpolish'd Shafts, his flying Game pursu'd,

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Was born, into the midst of all his Foes,
Upon his Iäpygian Steed, and throws
(Not vainly) his Apalian Darts: his Breast
The Skins of rough Samnitick Bears invest,
Instead of Steel: his Head an Helmet wore,
Fenc'd with the Tushes of an Aged Boar.
But him, thus Active, as if he had bin
Then following the Chase of Beasts, within
The Gargan Woods, when Mago here espy'd,
There bold Maharbal; they on either Side
Charge him. As Bears, more fierce by Hunger made,
From sev'ral Rocks a trembling Bull invade;
Their Fury not permitting them to share
Their Prey with Leisure: so both here, and there,
Gainst Allius discharged Weapons flew.
At length, through both his Sides, the Libyan Yew
Doth, singing, pierce into his trembling Heart,
And Death remain'd ambiguous, to which Dart
It should give way; for both together there,
As in their Center, met. Now full of Fear
The Romane Troops, with scatter'd Ensigns, fly;
Whom to the Banks the Libyan furiously,
(A Sight of Pitty!) wandring up and down,
Pursues, and in the River strives to drown.
Then Trebia to their Ruin doth conspire,
And raising, at Saturnia's Desire,
His fatal Waves, begins a second War
Against the weary Vanquished: who are
By Earth, that shrank beneath them, where they stood,
Devour'd, and cover'd by the treach'rous Flood.
Nor could they from the thick, tenacious Mire,
(If once engag'd) their weary Limbs retire:
But stand, as bound, and fix'd within the Mud,
Untill, o'rewhelm'd by the deceitfull Flood,

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Or Ruins of the hollow Banks, some fall;
While others through the Slippery places crawl,
And seek through the inextricable Shore,
Their several Ways to Safety. But, as or'e
The rotten Bogs they fly, and Ruin think
To shun, by their own Weight oppress'd, they Sink.
Here one swims swiftly, and now near the Land,
Snatching the tops of Rushes in his Hand,
To raise himself above the Flood again,
Nail'd by a Jav'lin to the Bank, is slain:
Another, having lost his Weapon, fast
Within his Arms his strugling Fo embrac't,
And in one Fate, both joyn'd together, dy'd.
Death in a thousand Shapes, on ev'ry Side,
Appears. There wounded Ligus backward fell
Upon the Shore; and, as the Flood doth swell
With Heaps of Bodies, and his Visage laves,
He sucks in, with his Sighs, the bloody Waves.
But scarce half-way did fair Hirpinus swim,
And beckned to the rest to follow him:
When, carryed by the Stream's impetuous Force,
And gaul'd with many wounds, his head-strong Horse
Obeys the Torrent, till with Labour tir'd,
Under prevailing Waves, they both expir'd.
Yet still these Miseries encrease: for, as
The towred Elephants attempt to pass
Into the Flood, with Violence they fell
(As when a Rock, torn from its native Hill
By Tempest, falls into the angry Main)
And Trebia afraid to entertain
Such Monstrous Bodies, flies before their Breast,
Or shrinks beneath them with their Weight opprest,
But as Adversity man's Courage tries,
And fearless Valour, doth to Honour rise

112

Through Danger; stout Fibrenus doth disclaim
A Death ignoble, or that wanted Fame:
And cries, My Fate shall be observ'd, nor shall
Fortune, beneath these Waters, hide my Fall.
I'le try, if Earth doth any living bear,
Which the Ausonian Sword, and Tyrrhen Spear
Cannot subdue, and kill. With that, he prest
His Lance into the right Eye of the Beast,
That, with blind Rage, the penetrating Blow
Pursu'd, and tossing up his mangled Brow,
Besmear'd with reeking Blood, with horrid Cries
Turns round, and from his fallen Master flies.
Then with their Darts, and frequent Arrows all
Invade him, and now dare to hope his Fall.
His immense Shoulders, and his Sides, appear
One Wound entire, his dusky Back doth bear
Innumerable Shafts; that, like a Wood,
Still waving, as he mov'd, upon him stood:
Till in so long a Fight, their Weapons all
Consum'd, he fell, Death hasting through his Fall.

But now (although a Wound, which by the way
An Adverse Hand inflicted, did delay
His Speed a while) implacable with Rage,
Within the River, Scipio doth engage.
And with unnumbred Slaughters doth infest
The Enemy; while Trebia seems opprest
With Targets, Helmets, and with Bodies slain;
And scarce doth any vacant Space remain
To see the Water. There Mazêus by
His Lance, there Gostar by his Sword doth dy.
Then against Telgon, who from Pelops sprung,
And in Cyrene dwelt, a Pile he flung,
Snatch'd from the stained Torrent, and within
His gaping Mouth fix'd the whole Steel. His Chin

113

Now falls: against his Teeth the trembling Wood
Rebounds with Noise, and sudden Streams of Blood,
Together with his Life, flow from the Wound?
Yet, after Death, no Rest his Body found;
For Trebia it t'Eridanus conveys,
Eridanus it tumbles to the Seas.
With him, and others, Lapsus likewise dy'd,
To whom the Fates a Sepulchre deny'd.
What then avail'd his rich Hesperides,
Or Groves by Nymphs frequented? What his Trees,
That, bearing Gold, extend their shining Boughs?
But Trebia, swelling, from the Bottom throws
His curling Waves, unlocketh all his Springs,
And all his Forces with fresh Fury brings:
The Billows roar aloud, and, as they fly,
Still a new Torrent doth their Place supply.
The General perceiving this, his Blood
With greater Fury boils. Perfidious Flood
(Said He) severely shalt thou punish'd be,
For this thy Insolence. I'le scatter thee
In lesser Streams, through all the Gallick Coast,
Untill the Name of River thou hast lost.
I'le choak thee in thy Birth: nor shalt thou flow,
Through this thy Chanel, to the Banks of Po.
What sudden Rage is this, doth thee invade,
And thee Sidonian of a Latine made?
Him boasting thus, the Waters in a Heap
Assail, and on his lofty Shoulders leap.

Himself against their Rage He doth oppose,
And with His Shield sustains their furious Throws.
Behind, the Storm-rais'd Surges thicker come,
And cover His Plum'd Helmet with their Foam.
That He should farther wade, the God deny'd;
While from His Feet the slipp'ry Earth doth slide.

114

The angry Billows, now, begin a War
Among themselves, and, striking Rocks, afar
Diffuse the Noise through all the Neighb'ring Coast,
And in the Fight his Banks the River lost.
Then, lifting up his streaming Locks, his Brow
Impail'd with Bull-Rushes, said He, Dost Thou
So proudly threaten Thy Revenge on Me?
And that the Name of Trebia shall be
By Thee extinguish'd? Oh, Thou Enemy
To this My Empire! see what Bodies I
Do bear; that by thy fatal Hand were slain:
Such Heaps of Shields, and Helmets here remain,
That they my Waters from my Chanel force,
And I'me constrain'd to leave my former Course.
Thou see'st how deep with Slaughter they are stain'd,
And backward flie. Restrain thy killing Hand,
And pitch Thy Camp within this Neighb'ring Field.

This Cytherea from an Hill beheld,
And, near her, Vulcan; who themselves did shroud
From Mortal Eyes, within an airy Cloud.
But Scipio, sighing, lifteth to the Skies
His Hands, and saith; Ye Gods, whose Auspicies
Have hitherto preserv'd Dardanian Rome,
Must I, at length, a Sacrifice become
To such a Death, preserv'd by You of late
In so great Fights? Is it above my Fate
To fall by Fortune? Oh, deliver me
Again (my Son) unto the Enemy;
That I may dy in Battel! and My End
Unto My Brothers, and to Rome, commend.

Griev'd with this Language, Venus sigh'd, and all
Her Husband's Fury on the Flood lets fall.
O're all the Banks, the active Flames appear
Dispersed, and the Streams, that many a Year

115

Had there been Nourish'd by the aged Flood,
Most furiously devour. The Neighb'ring Wood
Doth likewise burn, and through the highest Groves
Vulcan, an uncontrouled Conqu'rour, moves.
Now Fir-Trees lose their Arms; the lofty Pines,
And Alders sink, the Poplar too declines;
And from their standing Trunks those Branches fell,
Where Quires of Chanting Birds were wont to dwell.
Ev'n from the Bottom of the troubled Flood,
The Fire licks up the Waters, dries the Blood,
Late shed upon the Banks. The parched Earth,
(As when rash Phaëton, to prove his Birth,
Did Fire the World) with Heat excessive cleaves,
And Heaps of Ashes on the Waters leaves.
Father Eridanus now thinks it strange,
That his Eternal Course so soon doth change,
The Nymphs their liquid Caves with mournfull Cries
Now fill, and, as the Flood endeavour'd thrice
To raise his scorched Head, the God of Fire,
Throwing a Lamp, constrain'd him to retire
Beneath his smoaking Waves, and thrice his Head
Of Reeds deprives: at length, as Vanquished,
And Weak, submitting to his Conqu'ring Fo,
'Twas granted in his former Banks to flow.
Scipio, and Gracchus, then; from Trebia, all
Their Troops, unto a fenced Hill, recall.

But Hannibal the River doth adore,
And, with much Honour, sprinkles near the Shore
His Social Waters on the Holy Grass:
Not knowing how much greater things (alass!)
The Gods would act. What Woes for Italy
Were (Thrasimenus) then prepar'd by Thee.

Not long before, Flaminius did invade
The Boii, and an easie Conquest made

116

Over that Nation, Weak, and void of all
Deceit. But to contend with Hannibal
Requir'd more Toil, more Vigilance, and Skill.
Him, fatal to his Countrey, and with ill
Presages born, Saturnia prepares
As General, while Italie's Affairs
Sadly declin'd: A man most worthy all
The Mischief, that did on his Countrey fall.
For, in the first Day, that he took in Hand
The Helm of State, and th'Army did command:
As Mariners, unskilfull to convey
A beaten Ship through a tempestuous Sea,
Obey the Winds, and leave to ev'ry Blast,
Or Wave, the wandring Vessel; which at last
Is driven by the Pilot's artless Hands
On Rocks, or else is swallow'd up in Sands:
So, with rash Arms, Flaminius doth invade
The Lydians, and those Mansions Sacred made
By antient Corythus Arrival there;
And the Mæonian Colonies, that were
Joyn'd to Italian, by their Grand-sires Blood,
And in the Catalogue of Kindred stood.
Nor did the Gods neglect to advertise
The Libyan Captain of an Enterprize,
That to his Name such Honour might produce.
For when that Sleep, o're all the World, his Juice
Of Poppy had diffus'd, and with his Wings
Had cover'd o're the Tedious Care of things.
Juno the Figure of the Neighb'ring Flood
Assumes, and, as he slept, before him stood:
The dangling Tresses, on her watry Brow,
Encompass'd with a wreathed Poplar-Bough.
With sudden Cares, she dives into his Breast,
And with this pow'rfull Language breaks his Rest.

117

Oh Hannibal, most happy in thy Fame,
And unto Italy a fatal Name!
Who, if th'Ausonian Land had giv'n Thee Birth,
Might'st with the Gods, when Thou forsak'st the Earth,
Hereafter be Enthron'd. While yet we may,
And Fates permit us, banish all Delay:
The great Success, which Fortune doth allow,
Not long endures. Go on; the Blood, which Thou
Didst to thy Father promise, when the War
'Gainst Rome, before the Altar, Thou didst swear,
Shall from Ausonian Bodies flow to Thee,
And Thou Thy Father's Ghost shalt satisfie
With Slaughter, and to Me securely pay
Deserved Honours. Therefore now Obey:
For I that Thrasimenus am, that by
The Bands, from Tmolus sent, encompass'd ly
Beneath high Hills, and reign in shady Streams.

By this Advice excited from his Dreams,
His Army, which the Deity doth fill
With Courage, strait He leadeth to the Hill.
High Apenninus, who his Fore-head joyns
Unto the Stars, surcharg'd with lofty Pines,
Was cover'd, then, with Ice. Among the steep,
And slipp'ry Rocks, all Trees, in Snow, as deep
As is his Height, were hid, and to the Skies
His hoary Head, with Frost congeal'd, did rise.
Here He commands them on: for having cross'd
The Alps, all former Glory had been lost,
And quite extinguish'd; had they made a Stand
At other Mountains: therefore they ascend
Those broken Cliffs, whose Tops the Clouds invest
Perpetually with Showrs. Nor did they rest,
When once that Labour they had overcome;
But strait descend into the Plains, that swum

118

With thawing Ice, and where, in Moorish Ground,
The cold, unfrozen Waters did abound:
In these unwholsome Fens, the Gen'ral's bare,
Uncover'd, Head, was shaken by the Air,
And on his bloodless Cheeks his melting Eye
In Tears descends. While, scorning Remedy,
He thinks the Time of Battel is to be
Purchas'd with any Danger. Therefore He
Disdains the Beauty of his Face to spare,
So He may have His Ends; nor doth He care,
To part with other Limbs, if Victory
May be the Price, and thinks his single Eye
Enough; if so a Conquerour He may
Behold the Capitol: or any way
Subdue a Fo, that bears the Romane Name.
Through all these Miseries at length He came
Unto the Lake, where for His Loss of Sight
He kills unnumbred Piacles in Fight.

But now, behold, from Tyrian Carthage sent
Ambassadours arrive. The first Intent,
And Motive, of their Journey was of Weight:
Yet could they nothing of Content relate.
It was a Custome 'mong those People, where
Exil'd Elisa, first, her Walls did Rear,
The Favour of the Angry Gods to seek
With Humane Slaughter, and (what ev'n to speak
Is Horrour) on their flaming Altars burn
Their tender Sons. Those Lots an annual Urn
Reviv'd; the bloody Rites to imitate
Of Thoantêan Dian: to this Fate,
And Lot of Heav'n, as Custome was, inspir'd
Of old, with Malice, Hanno then requir'd
The Son of Hannibal, although the Fear
Of his Return, and Arms, did then appear

119

As present, for Revenge, to other Eyes.
Mov'd by this dire Demand, with mournfull Cries,
Tearing her Hair, and Cheeks, Imilce fills
The Town. As when, on the Pangæan Hills,
Edonian Froes their Treiterian Feast
Perform, and Bacchus reigns in ev'ry Breast.
Imilce so, among the Tyrian Dames,
(As if she saw her Son amidst the Flames)
Cries Iö, Husband, in what Part soe're
O'th' World thou wagest War, Oh, hither bear
Thine Ensigns; here, here is an Enemy
More violent, more near. Thou, happily,
Ev'n at the Walls of Rome, receivest now
Darts, flying, in Thy Target, or dost throw
A burning Lamp, Tarpeian Tow'rs to fire.
In the mean time, Thy Son, Thy onely Heir,
Ev'n from the Bosom of Thy Countrey, to
The Stygian Altar's drag'd. Whilst Thou dost go
To wast Ausonian Houses with Thy Sword,
Tread in forbidden Paths, break that Accord,
That League; which, once, by all the Gods was sworn:
These dire Rewards doth Carthage, now, return
For Thy Deserts; such Honours unto Thee,
Ingratefull, Shee decrees. What Piety
Is this, the Temples thus with Humane Blood
To stain? Alass! had Mortals understood
The Nature of the Gods, this horrid Crime
Had ne're been known. Go, and, at such a Time,
With Holy Frankincense, just Things desire
Of Heav'n; and let those cruel Rites expire.
The Gods to Men are mild: let it suffice
(I pray) that we fat Oxen Sacrifice:
Or, if the Gods resolve, that this Decree
Shall stand, to Your Desires, accept of Me,

120

Me that have born him; why should You deprive
Libya of those great Hopes, that in him live?
Why should Ægates more lamented be;
Or, if the Punick Kingdoms we should see
Now sinking; then the sad untimely Fall
Of this brave Off-spring of my Hannibal?

This Speech, the Senate wav'ring 'twixt a Fear
Of Gods, and Men, invited, to forbear
Their Sentence, and to Her 'twas left to chuse;
Whether She would the killing Lot refuse;
Or else the Honour of the Gods obey.
At this Imilce trembled, ev'ry way
With Fear distracted: there Her Husband's Ire
She apprehends; and there the fatal Fire.

This heard with greedy Ears: the General
Replies, Dear Carthage, What can Hannibal,
Though equal to the Gods, return to Thee,
Worthy such Favours? What Rewards can be
Invented? Day, and Night, I Arms will bear,
And make, that to Thy Temples Rome repair,
With gen'rous Victimes, that their Blood derive
From Her Quirinus. But My Boy shall live,
Heir to these Arms, and War, My onely Hope;
And, while Hesperia threats, the onely Prop
Of Tyrian Affairs by Sea, and Land.
And (Boy) remember that Thou take in Hand,
And wage a War with Rome, while Life doth last.
Go on, behold the Alps which I have past,
Are open. Me succeed in Toils, and War,
And you my Countrey's Gods, whose Temples are
By Slaughter Holy made, who 're pleas'd to be
Ador'd with Fears of Mothers, turn to Me
Your Minds, and pleas'd Aspect: for I prepare
Your Sacrifice, and better Altars Rear.

121

You Mago, to the Top of yonder Hill
Conduct your Troops; and let Chaospe fill
Those nearer to the Left; Sichæus shall
Into those Avenues, in Ambush fall.
While, I will Thrasimenus quickly view,
With lighter Troops, and for the Gods their Due,
Of Warlike Sacrifice prepare. For now,
They, with clear Promises, great things allow,
Which having seen (dear Countrey-men) you may
Into your native City, home convey.

The End of the Fourth Book.

123

The Fifth Book.

The Argument.

Flaminius rash Valour at the Lake
Of Thrasimenus. The Sidonians take
The Hills, for Ambush: Prodigies foreshow,
Before the Fight, the Roman's Overthrow.
Both Armies (while an Earthquake overthrew
Cities, and Rivers turn'd) the Fight pursue.
But the Sicilian Troops, that basely fly
The Field: and climb the Trees for Safety, dy,
Together, by Sichæus, whose sad Fall
(Soon after by Flaminius slain) by all
The Libyans is bewail'd. Stout Appius kill'd
By Mago, whom he wounds; what Slaughters fill'd
All Quarters: how Flaminius bravely dy'd;
Whose Corps the Romanes, slain about him, hide.

Now Hannibal, preparing for the Fight,
With secret Ambush, in the dead of Night,
The Mountains of Hetraria did invest,
And all the Passes of the Woods possest.
On the Left Hand, there was a Lake, that swell'd
Like a vast Sea, and all the Neighb'ring Field,

124

O're-flowing, cover'd with tenacious Slime.
Here Faun-got Aunus reign'd, in Antient time;
But, now, 'tis known by Thrasimenus Name,
Whose Sire Tyrrhenus (Lydian Tmolus Fame)
To the Italian Coasts, that since do bear
His Name, Mæonian Colonies, from far,
By Sea did bring; and is by all Renown'd,
For having taught those Nations, first, to sound
The Trumpet, and their Silence broke in Fight.
Yet, not content with this, he doth excite
His Son to greater things; But, fir'd with Love
Of the fair Boy (who with the Gods above,
For Beauty, might compare) now, Chaste no more,
Agylle snatch'd him, walking on the Shore,
Into the Stream. This Nymph's Lascivious Minde
Was still to Love of beauteous Boys inclin'd,
And the Italian Darts soon warm'd her Breast;
But him the carefull Naïades carest
Within their mossy Caves: while He the Place
Abhors, and seeks to shun their fond Embrace.
From hence the Lake, a Dowry to his Fame,
Still conscious of his Rape, retains his Name.
And, now, the Chariot of the Dewy Night,
Its Bounds approach'd; although the Morn her Light,
Not yet from her bright Chambers did display,
But, from the Threshold onely, breath'd a Ray;
And Men could less affirm, that Night had run
Her Course, then that the Day its Race begun:
When, through by-Ways, the Consul March'd before
His Ensigns; after Him, the Horse, (no more
In Order) haste: Next, in Confusion go
The light-arm'd Bands; the Foot, disorder'd, too
Forsake their Ranks: with them, though us'd in War,
Unfit for Fight, the Sutlers mixed are;

125

And Ominous Tumults through all Places spread,
Advancing to the Fight, as if they fled.
While from the Lake, a Vapour, black as Night,
Arose, and, quite depriving them of Sight,
In a dark Mantle of condensed Clouds
Involves the Skies, and Day desired shrouds.

But Hannibal pursues His Fraud the while,
And, in His Ambush closely sitting still,
Would not permit them, in their Haste, to be
Oppos'd, while all the Shore appeareth free
From Danger, and neglected by the Fo,
Who, to their Fall, permits them on to go.
For they, advancing through a narrow Way,
(Before design'd, their Safety to betray)
A double Ruin found. The Waters here
Contract their Passage: there steep Rocks appear,
And, on the Mountain's Top, within the Wood,
T'engage them, there a Libyan Party stood,
Ready to fall on any, that should fly
To a Retreat. So, when a Fisher, by
A Chrystal Brook, an Osier Weel doth twine,
The Entrance large he makes, but binds within
The Tonnel Close, contracting by Degrees
The yielding Tops into a Pyramis;
Through which deceitfull Hole the Fish, with Ease,
Do enter, but return not to the Seas.

In the mean time, the furious Consul lost
His Reason, in this Storm of Fates: in Haste
He calls his Ensigns on; untill, from Sea,
The Sun's bright Horses re-advanc'd the Day,
And Rosie Titan, to revive the World,
The Clouds, that o're the Face of Heav'n were hurl'd,
Had quite dispers'd, and sensibly to Hell,
By his clear Rays resolv'd, the Darkness fell.

126

And then a Bird (which as an old Presage
The Latines us'd, before they did engage
In Fight) he took, t'explore the Gods Intent,
And what should be the following Fight's Event.
The Bird, Divining future Miseries,
Refus'd her Meat, and from it, crying, flies.
With that a Bull (a sad Presage!) before
The Holy Altars, ceased not to roar,
And, waving with his Neck, the fatal Stroak,
O'th' falling Ax, the Sacred Place forsook.
Besides, as they endeavour'd, where they stood,
To pull their Ensigns up, the Earth black Blood
Into their Faces spouts; as to foretell
That Slaughter, which them, afterwards, befell.
Then Jove, the Sea, and Land, with Thunder shook,
And, snatching Bolts from Ætna's Forges, strook
The Thrasimenian Lake, that smoaking seems
To burn, and Flames to live within the Streams.
Oh lost Admonishments, and Prodigies,
That strive, in vain, to stop the Destinies!
Ev'n Gods, themselves, must with the Fates dispence.
And here Corvinus, fam'd for Eloquence,
And of a Noble Name, (whose Helmet bore
Thy Bird, Apollo, that did long before
The Valour of his Grand-Father declare,
Full of the Gods, and, troubled at the Fear
Of his Companion, intermingled than
With Counsel Pray'rs, and with these Words began:

By the Iliack Flames, the Fate of Rome,
Our Countrie's Walls, and by our Sons, that from
This Fight's Event the Fates as yet suspend,
Yield to the Gods, We pray thee, and attend
A Time more fortunate for Battel: they
A Field will give thee, and a better Day.

127

Onely disdain not Thou t'expect the more
Propitious Gods, and that more happy Hour,
Which shall for Libya's Destruction call;
And when, not forc'd, as now, our Ensigns all
Shall follow; when our Birds shall gladly feed,
And pious Earth no more so strangely bleed.
How much is left to Fortune in this Place,
Skilfull in War, Thou know'st. Before our Face
The Fo appears: those woody Hills now threat
An Ambush; on the left Hand no Retreat
The Lake allows: the Pass is narrow too
Between those Hills. It's Wisdom then in you
With Stratagems to strive, and fight Delay,
Untill with fresh Supplies, Servilius may
Arrive, that with you, in Command, doth share,
And's Forces, in the Legions, equal are.
The War with Policy we must pursue:
To th'fighting Man the least of Honour's due.

Corvinus thus exhorts: the Captains were
No less importunate, and all with Fear
Divided. Sometimes for Flaminius pray
Unto the Gods: then him intreat t'obey
The Pow'rs Divine, and not their Will oppose.
With that his kindled Fury higher rose,
And hearing (full of Rage) that new Supplies
Would soon be there; Saw you not Me (he cries)
When in the Boian War I charg'd, and when
So great a Ruin, and such dreadfull Men
Came on: that, the Tarpeian Rock again
Did tremble, then what Multitudes were slain
By me? How, then, this vengefull Hand the Ground
Bestrew'd with Bodies, which the deepest Wound
Could scarce destroy: yet were they forc'd to yield,
And now their scatter'd Bones oppress the Field.

128

Therefore Servilius Arms may come too late
To this brave Action, if you think not that
I cannot overcome, unless I share
My Triumphs; and, contented am to bear
A part of Honour; but the Gods do seem
T'advise us otherwise. Oh do not Dream
(You that now fear the Trumpets Sound) of Gods,
So like your selves. Our trusty Swords are odds,
And Augury enough, against the Fo.
The best Presage the Romane Souldiers know,
Is, that, in Feats of Arms, they do excell;
Must it be then resolv'd that I sit still
Corvinus, basely thus within a Vale
Besieg'd, while the Sidonians do prevail
Against Arretia's Walls, and levell to
The Ground, the Tow'r of Corythus, and go
Thence to Clusinum, and at length may come
Untouch'd, unto the very Walls of Rome?
Vain Superstition! a Deformity
In men of Arms! Valour alone should be
The Goddess that should o're their Souls command.
Troops of sad Ghosts, by Night about us stand,
Whose Corps are tumbled still in Trebia's Waves,
And swift Eridanus, and want their Graves.

Thus having said, without Delay, he quits
Th'Assembly; and, Inexorable, fits
His last unhappy Arms: a Sea-Bulls Hide
His Helmet lines, and on the Top (its Pride)
A triple Crest ascends, and largely spreads
A Main, the Locks resembling of the Swedes:
Above was Scylla, waving in her Hand,
A broken, Oar, and Dogs about her stand
With gaping Jaws. This noble Trophie, He
Gain'd near Garganus, and the Victory,

129

So pleas'd him (having slain the Boian King)
That, fitted to his Head, he us'd to bring
This, as his Glory, into ev'ry Fight.
Then takes his Coat of Mail, whose Scales were knit
To Chains of Steel, and studded o're with Gold.
Next he assumes his Shield, where they behold
The Stains of Celtick Blood, which He before
In Battel shed: and, in it carv'd, he bore
A she-Wolf's Figure, in her gloomy Den,
Licking a Child's soft Limbs, as it had been
Her Whelp, and nurs'd of the Assarick Line
A Stem, that afterwards was made Divine.
At last, he girds his Sword, and to's Right Hand
Makes fit his Lance. Hard by doth ready stand
His Horse; which, cover'd with a Tiger's Hide,
Champs on his frothy Bit with pleasing Pride.
Then mounted, where the way between the Hills
Was streight, thus with Encouragement he fills
His Men. Your Work, and Honour, it will be
(Dear Countrey-men) to let your Parents see
Fix'd on a Spear, and born, with Joy, through all
The Streets of Rome, the Head of Hannibal.
That Head may satisfie for all the rest:
Let each man therefore fancy in his Breast,
What may excite his Rage, and thus deplore;
My Brother, now, upon Ticinus Shore
Unburyed lyes. Alass! my Son through all
The Po now swims, and wants a Funeral.
Thus to himself let ev'ry Man prepare
Revenge; but as to you, who have no Share
Of private Grief, let those great things, which fire
A publick Soul, enflame your greater Ire.
Think they have broken through the Alpine Hills;
And then remember those Nefandous Ills

130

Sagunthus suffer'd, what a Sin it was
In them, Iberus Sacred Bounds to pass,
And now ev'n Tyber touch. For while, in Vain,
With Birds, and Entrails, Augurs you detain;
It onely wanteth, now, that he invade
The Capitol. This when he'd eager said,
And seeing that his Horse, amidst the Croud
Of thousands, rais'd his cloudy Mane, aloud
He cries; To fight, my Orphitus, must prove
Thy Task. What other to Feretrian Jove
Opimous Off'rings can in Triumph bare?
For why should any Hand this Honour share
With Me? Then moves, and hearing a known Voice
In Fight, Far hence (said he) that Martial Noise
Shews thee to be Murranus: and I Thee
Already high in Tyrian Slaughter see.
How great a Praise attends thee? but (I pray)
Let thy Sword wider make that narrow Way.
Then knowing (born upon Soracte's Hill)
Æquanus, who in Beauty did excell,
And Arms (the Customs of whose Countrey were,
The Entrails thrice through harmless Flames to bear;
When as the Pious Archer did desire
To offer Sacrifice in Holy Fire)
Noble Æquanus, may'st thou ever so
Unburnt, on Phœbus flaming Altars go,
And conquering the Smoak, so ev'ry Year
To the pleas'd God (said he) thy Offering bear.
Worthy thy Deeds, and Wounds, conceive a Rage:
Accompanied by Thee, I dare engage
To penetrate through the Marmarick Bands,
Or charge Cinyphian Troops. With that he stands
No longer to advise, or to delay
With Words that Fight, which by the Romanes may

131

Be long deplor'd. The Signal ev'rywhere
Is giv'n, and fatal Trumpets rend the Air.
Oh Grief! Oh Tears, which, in so long Descent
Of Ages, cannot, now, too late be spent!
I Tremble, as if now those Mischeifs all
Were acted; as if Libyans Hannibal,
And arm'd Asturians, from their Hills did bring,
Or the fierce Balearick with his Sling.
Now num'rous Troops of Macians, Nomades,
And Garamantians sally forth: with these
The Warlike, stout Cantabrians; then whom,
With Mercenary Hands, none sooner come
To fight; or hired Arms more gladly bear:
And Gascoins too, that Helmets scorn to wear.
On this Side, horrid Rocks; on that, the Lake:
Here clashing Arms, with the loud Shouts they make,
Amaze, and urge: beside the Signal from
The Tyrian Camp, through all the Hills, doth come.
The Gods, their Faces turning from the Field,
Unwillingly to greater Fates do yield.
Ev'n Mars, thy Fortune (Hannibal) doth fear;
Sad Venus weepeth, with dishevel'd Hair;
Apollo, to his Delos, doth retire,
And strives to ease his Grief with mournfull Lyre.
Juno, alone, on Appeninus stood
Expecting Slaughter, hating Trojan Blood.

But, as if forcing Heaven, and free from Fear,
In their own Hands, th'incensed Souldiers bear
Predestin'd Piacles, and kill again
Fresh Sacrifice, in Fight, to those were slain.
First, the Picenian Bands, when they beheld
The Cohorts dissipated, and repell'd,
And Hannibal advancing furiously,
Charge Him with Courage, and, before they dy,

132

Amaze the Conquerour (whom they invade)
To see the Slaughters, that their Valour made.
For, now, with one Consent, and Force, a Showr
Of Piles upon the Libyan Troops they pour,
And when repuls'd, their fixed Targets all,
Press'd with the Weight of crooked Shafts, let fall.
This with their Gen'ral's Presence doth excite
The Libyans Rage; who mutually to fight
Exhort each other, and so closely prest
Upon their Foes, they fought them Breast to Breast.
Her Torch Bellona shaking through the Air,
And sprinkling, with much Blood, her flaming Hair,
Through both the Armies, up, and down, doth flee,
And from her horrid Breast, Tisiphone
A deadly Murmur sends: while to engage,
The fatal Trumpets all their Minds enrage.
These by their adverse Fortune, and Despair
Of future Safety, animated are:
Them more propitious Gods, and Victory,
Smiling upon them with a joyfull Eye,
Encourage, favour'd by the God of War.
But Lateranus, while entic'd, too far
With Love of Slaughter, furious on he goes,
At length engaged stood among his Foes:
When Lentulus, of equal Age, him spy'd,
Too much with Fight, and Blood, on ev'ry Side
Oppress'd, and midst an Army to provoke
The Fates, with a brisk Charge, to aid him, broke
Through all the Ranks; and Baga, then about
To wound him in the Back (though fierce, and stout)
Prevented with his Spear, and doth attend
The Fate, and hard Adventures of his Friend.
With chearfull Courage, now, their Arms they joyn,
Their Fronts, and Crests, with equal Glory shine.

133

When Syrticus, by Chance (for who durst move
Arms against them, unless by Stygian Jove
Condemn'd to dy?) descending from the Hill,
Arm'd with a broken Oak, upon them fell:
And as the weighty Tree about he waves,
With Thirst of both their Deaths, thus vainly raves.

Not here (fond Youths) Ægates, nor a Coast
Treach'rous to Seamen, nor the Ocean, tost
By new-rais'd Tempests, shall on you bestow
Fortune, without a War. You now shall know,
That once were Conquerours at Sea, by Land
What Libyan Warriours are, nor us withstand
Within a better Empire. As he spoke,
At Lateranus with the pond'rous Oak
He strikes, and fighting rails: when Lentulus,
Gnashing his Teeth for Anger, meets him thus.

Sooner shall Thrasimenus raise his Flood
To those high Hills, then in his Pious Blood
That thy pernicious Tree thou shalt imbrue.

And, as he stretch'd himself to strike, quite through
His Body pierc'd him: through the gaping Wound
The reeking Gore flows largely to the Ground.

No less, in other Quarters of the Field,
Imcens'd to mutual Wounds, their Fury swell'd.
By tall Hiertes Nereus fell: and by
Rullus brave Volunx, rich in Land, doth dy.
Nor Riches heap'd, nor Palaces, that shin'd
With's Countrey's Ivory, to which were joyn'd
His Vassal Villages, could now withhold
His Fate. What boots extorted Wealth? or Gold,
Which Men, with Thirst insatiable, pursue?
Whom Fortune richly did of late endue
With her most wealthy Gifts, is, naked, now
By Charon wafted, to the Shades below.

134

There Warlike Appius, though but young in Years,
Great in Attempts, the Field with Slaughter clears:
And where of greatest Strength, and Valour, none
Else durst aspire, there Honour He, alone,
Atchieves. Him Atlas meeting (Atlas, who,
Sprang from Iberian Blood, did vainly plow
Remotest Sands) thrusts at his Face a Lance:
The Top whereof, as it doth lightly glance,
And raze the Skin, tasteth his Noble Blood.
Like Thunder now, or a Storm-raised Flood
He threats. New Flames, within his furious Eyes,
Are kindled: mad, like Lightning, then he flies
Through all th'opposing Troops; his Wound, that sends
Blood from beneath his Cask, the rest commends
Of his stout Martial Limbs: then might you see
The trembling Youth, contending, as they flee,
To hide themselves. As, when th'affrighted Deer
An Hircan Tiger follows; or with Fear
Doves fly the tow'ring Hawk; or as the Hare,
When she beholds the Eagle, in the Air,
Ready to stoop, to Covert runs with Speed:
Here with his Sword, he lops off Atlas Head.
And his Right Hand then, raging, on doth go,
Charging, more furious by Success, his Fo.
For arm'd with a bright Ax, and, in the Sight
Of's Father Mago, to engage in Fight
Ambitious: big with Hopes of Praise, there stood
Cinyphian Isalces, vainly proud
Of promis'd Nuptials, when the Romane War
Should ended be. But Appius sets a Bar
To these his Hopes, and with such Fury came
Against him; that, as he his Ax, with Aim,
Directed at his Face, so strong a Stroak
Fierce Appius, rising higher, gave, he broke

135

His Sword upon his Cask. Isalces too
Upon his Target gives as vain a Blow.
With that a Stone, which, had not Anger lent
Him Strength, he could not lift, now almost Spent,
At's Fo stout Appius throws: it's weighty Fall
Him backward fells, and breaks his Bones withall.
When Mago saw him fall (for near at hand
He fought) he wept beneath his Helmet, and
Groaning with Rage, came on. Th'Alliance late
By them contracted, and the Nephews, that
He thence expected, fire his Thoughts the more.
But as, with nearer View, he doth explore
Appius his Shield, large Members, and the Raies
Of's Helmet; him a while that Sight delays.
As when a Lyon from a shady Hill
In haste descends, his hungry Gorge to fill,
He stands, and soon contracts his Speed, if he
Within the Plain a Bull approaching see;
Though with long Hunger press'd, he views his high,
Thick, rising Neck; admires his threatning Eye
Beneath a rugged Brow, while he prepares
For Fight, and Earth, to give the Signal, tears.

First Appius spoke, as he a Jav'lin threw;
If thou hast any Piety, pursue
Thy Contract, and accompany thy Son
In Death. With that the flying Weapon run
Quite through his brazen Arms, untill it struck
His Left Arm, and in it, deep wounding, stuck.

The Libyan Return of Words forbore.
But with his Spear (which Hannibal before
Sagunthus Walls, a Conquerour had ta'ne
From Noble Durius, there in Battel slain,
And to his Brother gave; which, with Delight,
He, a brave Trophie, bore in ev'ry Fight)

136

Charg'd him. Grief lending Force, the Weapon through
His Cask, and Mouth inflicts a deadly Blow;
And, as he strove to draw it from the Wound,
His Hands, soon bloodless, fell. Upon the Ground,
Appius, a Name through the Maonian Sea,
Renown'd, a great Part of Rome's Ruin, lay.
And in his bloody Mouth, expiring, there
Crush'd, and, with murm'ring, bites the fatal Spear.
The Lake then trembled: from his Body dead,
With Waves contracted, Thrasimenus fled.

Next, with no better Fates, Mamercus dyes,
And wounded falls, by all his Enemies.
For where the Lusitanian Cohorts fought,
Gain'd with much Blood, and Valour, as he brought
A Standard, whose stout Bearer he had slain,
And call'd his flying Countrey-men again,
His Foes, incens'd at what they saw him do,
What ever in their Hands was Missile threw,
And likewise all, that Earth, then cover'd o're
With Darts, and Spears, afforded (like a Shour
Of Hail) upon him falls, and greater Store
Of Darts no single Romane felt before.

Thus stout Mamercus fell, and at his Fall,
Vex'd at his Brother's Hurt, came Hannibal,
And raging ask'd (when He the Wound espy'd)
Now him, then his Companions, If his Side
The Spear had pierc'd? or, if within the Wound
'Twere fix'd? But, when no fear of Death he found,
Nor Danger, from the Field he strait was sent,
Cover'd with His own Coat, into His Tent,
Within the Camp, and free from Trouble: there
For Cure all Med'cinal Arts prepared were
By Learned Synalus, who did infuse,
Bathing the Wound throughout, the healing Juice

137

Of choicest Herbs, and, with a secret Charm
The Weapon strait extracted from his Arm,
Him with a crooked Snake to Sleep compell'd:
All other Synalus in Skill excell'd,
And for it was through all the Neighb'ring Land,
And Cities, fam'd, o'th' Paretonian Sand.
To Synalus (his Grand-father) of old
Those Secrets Garamantick Hammon told,
And how the Bitings of wild Beasts to heal,
And deepest Wounds of Weapons did reveal.
He those Celestial Gifts, while yet he liv'd,
Transmitted to his Son; who them deriv'd
To th'Honour of his Heir: whom Synalus,
As great in Fame, succeeds, and, Studious
His Garamantick Secrets to improve,
(As a Companion once to Horned Jove)
With many Images, his Grand-sire's Line
Deduc'd. Now, when he brought those Gifts Divine
In Haste (as Custom was) his Garments round
Tuck'd up, with Water first he purg'd the Wound
From Blood. But Mago, thinking on the Spoils,
And Death, of his slain Fo, his Brother's Toils,
And Cares, with Words of Courage, thus allaies,
And eas'd his own Mishaps, with Thoughts of Praise.

Cease from Thy Fears (dear Brother) to my Wound
No greater Remedy can now be found:
Great Appius, by me compell'd, is gone
To th'Shades below, and we enough have done,
Since He is dead, I, willingly, can go
To Hell it self, after so brave a Fo.

But, when the Consul from an Hill beheld,
That this the Libyan Captain from the Field
Had, troubled, turn'd; that in their Trenches they
(As if the Clouds of War were vanish'd) lay;

138

With sudden Fury, for his Horse he calls,
And, from the Hill descending, fiercely falls
Upon the trembling Files; which, now grown thin,
He routs, and in the Valley doth begin
The Fight again. As when the Clouds above,
Surcharg'd with ratling Hail, dissolve, and Jove,
Mixing his Thunder with their Torrent, shakes
The Alps, and high Ceraunian Rocks, and makes
The World (thus mov'd) the Earth, the Sea, the Air,
To tremble, and ev'n Hell it self to fear:
So, like a sudden Tempest, from the Hill,
The Consul on the frighted Lybians fell.
The Sight of Him chill Horrour strikes into
Their Bones; while he through thickest Ranks doth go,
And, with his Sword, cuts out a spacious Way.
With that, confused Cries to Heav'n convey
The Fury of the Fight, and strike the Stars.
As, when the angry Seas against the Bars
Of Hercules do beat, and roaring Waves
Throws into lofty Calpe's hollow Caves,
The Mountain groans; and, as, with furious Shocks,
The foaming Billows break against the Rocks,
Tartessos, though far distant thence by Land,
And Lixus, that by no small Sea doth stand
Divided thence, at once the Eccho share.
By a swift Dart, that Silent through the Air
Had pass'd, before the rest doth Bogus fall:
Bogus, who at Ticinus, first of all,
Against the Rutuli his Jav'lin flung,
And vainly thought, that Clotho would prolong
His Thread of Life, and that a num'rous Line
Of Nephews he should see, by the false Sign
Of flying Birds deceiv'd. But none have power
By Augury to remove the fatal Hour.

139

'Mid'st Storms of Darts he falls; and to the Skies
Lifting, in vain, his dim, and bleeding Eyes,
O'th' Gods, misunderstood, as he expires,
The Promises of longer Life requires.
Neither could Bagasus then boast, in Fight
That he, unpunish'd, in the Consul's Sight,
Had conquer'd Libo strip'd; who vainly there
The Lawrel of his Ancestours did wear.
But a Massilian Sword lops off his Head,
And, on his Cheeks as Down began to spread,
The barb'rous Souldier, by untimely Death,
Suppress'd his rising Years. Yet his last Breath
Did not in vain implore Flaminius Aid:
For strait, by him, his Fo was headless made:
As pleas'd that, after his Example, by
The same sad Death the Conquerour should dy.
What God, O Muses, aptly can rehearse
So many Funerals? Or who, in Verse,
Worthy such Noble Shades, lament their Fall?
Or tell how there the Early Youth did all
Contend in Death for Honour? Or what then,
Ev'n in the Porch of Death, more Aged men
Perform'd? What Courage of unconquer'd Hearts
They shew'd; when as their Breasts were fill'd with Darts?
On either Side, as Furious they engage,
They Frequent fell, nor would their Eager Rage
Allow them Time to Spoil, or Thoughts of Prey,
Which their Desire of Slaughter takes away.
The Consul, while, within the Camp, the Fo
The Wound of Mago kept, now Darts doth throw;
Then us'd his Sword, and, mounted on his Horse,
Through Myriads of Men, his Way doth force:
Sometimes afoot before the Eagles goes;
While Blood the fatal Valley overflows

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With num'rous Streams, and th'hollow Rocks, and Hills,
The Noise of Horse, and Arms, with Eccho fills.
Marmarick Othrys, in the Field, among
The rest, advanc'd to fight. His Body strong
Above all humane Strength: the very Sight
Of his Gigantick Members turn'd to Flight
The trembling Wings: his Shoulders, largely spread,
Above both Armies rais'd his lofty Head.
Rude, like an Horse's Mane, his Tresses hung
Upon his lowring Brows: his Beard as long
O're shadowing his Mouth: his squallid Breast
The horrid Bristles of a Boar exprest.
Scarce any dare look on him, or come near
To fight him. Like a Monster ev'ry where
He rangeth through the Field, from Danger free:
Till, turning his fierce Looks on those that flee,
A Cretan Arrow, mounting to the Skies
With silent Wings, in one of's glaring Eyes
Doth falling fix, and turneth him aside
From the Pursuit. Which, when the Consul spy'd
He lanceth at his Back, as he retreats
Towards the Camp, a Dart, that penetrates
(Breaking his naked Ribs) his Body through,
And in his bristled Breast the Head doth shew.
To draw it forth, with Hast, he labours, where
The fatal shining Point did first appear;
Till, the Blood largely flowing to the Ground,
He fell, and crush'd the Weapon in the Wound.
His last Breath, waving through the Field, doth rear
The Dust, and heaves a Cloud into the Air.

In the mean time, a diff'rent War, the Hills,
The Woods, and Cliffs, with various Slaughter fills;
The Rocks, and Thorns, as dy'd with Blood appear.
The Cause of their Destruction, and their Fear,

141

Sychæus was: who, at a Distance, slew
Murranus with a Lance; then whom none knew,
In time of Peace, more sweetly with his Quill
To touch Orphæan Nerves, or had more Skill.
In a vast Wood he fell, and, ev'n in Death,
Look'd for the Æquanian Hills (where first his Breath
He drew) in Wine most fertile; and for fair
Surentum, where the Zephyrs purge the Air.
To his sad Fate conqu'ring Sychæus joyn'd
Another's Fall: and in that new sad Kind
Of cruel Fight rejoyc'd, For, while into
The Wood, Tauranus, rashly, did pursue
The stragling Fo; too far engag'd, as he
Secur'd his Back, against an aged Tree,
From Blows, and vainly his Companions calls
With his last Breath, he by Sychæus falls:
And, piercing through his Body, in the Wood,
Behind him fix'd, the Tyrian Jav'lin stood.
But what did You unto your selves prepare?
What Anger of the Gods? What sad Despair
Your Minds possess'd? Who, quitting Fight, did fly
To Arms of Trees for your Security?
Fear, in distress'd Affairs, adviseth still
The worst; and, whensoe're th'Event is ill,
It argues want of Courage. In the Wood,
It's Branches to the Skies extending, stood
An aged Tree: which, high above the rest,
Into the highest Clouds, aspiring, prest
Its shady Head, and (had it stood within
An open Field) as it a Grove had been,
To a most large extent, the dark'ned Ground
Had cover'd with its Shade. Near that they found
An Oak, which, there through many Ages grown,
Endeavour'd to the Stars its mossie Crown

142

To raise, and from its spreading Trunk did fill
The Arms with Leaves, and shadow'd all the Hill.
Hither the Cohorts, sent from Sicily,
Not daring to prevent their Infamy
By Death, and yielding up their Minds to Fear,
Contend with Speed to fly; and climbing there,
The Wav'ring Boughs, with their uncertain Weight
Oppress'd, and all contending to be at
The safest Place, some shaken from their Stand,
Fall to the Ground, by rotten Branches, and
The aged Tree deceiv'd; some Trembling hung
Still on the Top, among the Darts were flung
Against them by the Fo: untill resolv'd,
That in one Ruin all should be involv'd
At once, Sychæus lai'd his Shield aside,
His Weapons chang'd, and strait an Ax imploy'd,
Late sharp'ned for the Fight. With him the rest
Hasten the Work, and all the Tree invest;
Which now, through frequent Blows declining, cracks
Aloud: and, as the weakned Body shakes,
Th'unhappy Troop upon it, to, and fro
Are tott'ring toss'd. So, when the Zephyrs blow
Upon an antient Grove, the Birds, that there,
On the weak Tops of Trees, their Nests prepare,
Are toss'd, and made the Sport of ev'ry Blast.
O'recome with many Blows, the Oak, at last,
(Their most unhappy Sanctuary) doth fall,
And, in its spacious Ruin, crush'd them all.
Then doth another Face of Death appear;
That Tree, that to their Slaughter was so near,
Shines, and is seis'd by active Flames: among
The Leaves, and Branches dry, and growing strong
Vulcan his Globes of furious Fire doth turn
To ev'ry Side, and highest Boughs doth burn.

143

Nor do the Libyans cease their Darts to cast;
While Bodies, half-consum'd by Fire, imbrac'd
The burning Arms, and with them, groaning, fell.
But amidst this Destruction (sad to tell)
The incens'd Consul came, and busied all
His Thoughts on Rage, and fierce Sychæus fall.
The Danger of so great an Enemy
Prompts the brave Youth, his Fate again to try
With's Lance; which lightly on the brazen brim
Of's Shield he plac'd, thereby to hinder him
To pass through that Defence: the Consul, loath
To trust the Fortune of Sychæus Death
To missile Weapons, with his Sword advanc'd,
And, maugre his thick Shield, so deeply lanc'd
His Side, he fell, expiring, to the Ground
Upon his Face. Death, entring at the Wound,
With Stygian Cold, through ev'ry Part doth creep,
His Eyes composing to Eternal Sleep.

While thus the God of War himself applies,
To Enterchanges of sad Tragedies,
Mago, and Hannibal the Camp forsake,
And, in their speedy March, their Ensigns take
Along; most eager to repair the Time,
That they were absent, by a greater Crime
Of Blood, and Slaughter: with their furious Pace,
The Troops, advancing, raise in ev'ry Place
Thick Clouds of Dust (like Whirlwinds) to the Skies;
And with the Sand the Field doth seem to rise:
And wheresoe're the Gen'ral bends his Course,
Like a strong Tempest, with impetuous Force,
Through the vast Air it swells, and highest Hills
Covers with horrid Darkness. Here he kills
Valiant Fontanus, wounded in the Thigh:
There, pierc'd quite though the Throat, stout Bucca by

144

His Spear was slain; the Point through th'Wound appears
In's Neck behind: Fregella him with Tears
Bewail'd, renowned for's antient Descent:
Th'other his fair Anagnia did lament.
Like Fate (Levinus) thee befell, although
Thou didst not choose the Tyrian King thy Fo;
But with Hiremon, who then led the light
Autololes, contend'st in single Fight:
Whom, wounded in the Knee, and Prostrate, while
Thou dost keep down, and vainly seek to spoil,
With cruel Force, an heavy Jav'lin broke
Thy Ribs; thy Body by the fatal Stroke,
With sudden Ruin, on thy prostrate Fo
Doth fall, and Both in Death together go.

Nor were the Sidicinian Cohorts then
Wanting in Valour: these (a thousand Men)
Stout Viridasius arm'd, whose Skill did yield
To none, to guid a Ship, or pitch a Field,
None sooner could with batt'ring Rams prevail
'Gainst Walls, or sooner highest Tow'rs could scale.
Him, when the Libyan General beheld,
With the Successes of his Valour swell'd,
(For he Avaricus, not trusting to
His Arms, and by him Hurt, did then pursue)
His Anger rising higher, at that Sight,
He thought him worthy with Himself to fight:
And, from Avaricus as he withdrew,
His wounding Spear upon him fiercely flew,
And, piercing deep into his Breast, said He;

Prais'd be thy Valour, whosoe're thou be;
'Tis pitty Thou by other Hands should'st fall.
The Honour, thus to dy by Hannibal,
Bear to the Shades below; and, were not Thou
Born of Italian Blood, thy Life should now

145

Be spar'd: next him, he Fabius slew, and bold
Labicus, who in feats of Arms was old,
And long before, in Arethusa's Land,
Had with Amilcar fought, and Honour gain'd:
And, now, unmindfull of his broken years,
With Courage fresh, again in Arms appears:
But that He now grew cold in War, his Blows
More vain betray (the Fire, so, weakly glows
In dying Embers, that no Strength at all,
The Flame retains) him, when fierce Hannibal
(Shew'd by His Father's Armour-Bearer) spy'd,
Thy former Fight's due Punishment (He cry'd)
Receive, by this my Hand: Amilcar now
Revenging, draggs thee to the Shades below.
This said, from's Ear, with Aim, a Dart he throws,
Which, as upon the Wound he turned, goes
Quite through his Head, the fatal Shaft again
Pull'd out, his hoary Locks, a Crimson Stain,
Of Blood, receive, and his long Labours all,
In Death are ended. Next to him doth fall
Herminius (a Youth) who first, there took
Up Arms, before accustom'd with his Hook,
(Fam'd Thrasimenus) in thy Lake to prey,
And to his aged Father oft convey
Delicious Food, and with his Angle, from
The Neighb'ring Waters drew the Fishes Home.

But, now the Carthaginians, sad, convey
Upon their Arms, Sichæus Corps away,
Unto the Camp, whom with a mournfull Cry
Pressing along, as Hannibal doth spy.
With a Presaging Grief He strikes his Breast,
What is this Sadness that's by you exprest
My Friends? (said He) of what hath us the Ire
Of Heaven depriv'd? Thee burning with Desire

146

Of Praise, Sichæus, and too great a Love
Of thy first War, doth this Black day remove
From Life, and Us, by an untimely Fall?
With that he groan'd, to which the Tears of all,
That bare him, do Consent, who likewise tell,
Weeping, by whose revengefull Hand he fell.
I see it in his Breast (said He) see where
The Wound was made by the Ilîack Spear:
Oh worthy our dear Carthage shalt thou go,
And worthy Hasdrubal, to Ghosts below.
Nor shall thy Noble Mother thee lament,
Degenerate, from thy so high Descent.
Nor, as unlike thy Ancestours, from Thee
In Stygian Shades, shall our Amilcar flee.
But these our Tears Flaminius, this Day,
(The Cause of all) by's Death shall wipe away:
This Pomp, thy Funeral shall sure attend,
And impious Rome her self shall, in the End,
That my Sichæus Body with her Sword
She ne're had wounded, any Rate afford.

Thus he his Fury vents, and, as he speaks,
From's foaming Mouth, like Smoak, a Vapour breaks
His Rage in broken Murmurs from his Breast
Extrudes that Breath, that should have Words exprest:
(So from a boiling Pot in scalding Heaps,
Like Waves, through too much Heat, the Liquour leaps)
Then with blind Rage, into the midst of all,
He Runs, and Rends the Air, as He doth call
Upon Flaminius; who no sooner hears
His Voice, but to the Combat he appears,
And Mars more near approach'd; while Hand, to Hand,
To fight within the Lists, both Champions stand.
Then strait, through all the Rocks a sudden Crack
Doth run: the Mountains all with Horrour shake;

147

Their Tops do tremble, and the Grove of Pines
That crown'd them, from its pleasant Height declines:
And broken Quarries on the Armies fall;
Groaning, as pull'd from her Foundations, all
The Earth doth quake, and breaking strangely wide
Through the vast Gulfe, where Stygian Shades discry'd,
And fear'd the Day again. The troubled Lake
Rais'd to the highest Hills, forc'd to forsake
Its ancient Seat, and Channel, with a Flood
Before unknown, now laves the Tyrrhen Wood:
This Storm the People, and the Towns of Kings,
Like a dire Plague to sad Destruction brings.
Besides all this, the Rivers backward run,
And fight with Mountains, and the Sea begun
To change its Tydes, the Faunes now quit the Hill
Of Apennine, and fly to Floods, yet still
The Souldier (O the Rage of War!) although
The reeling Earth doth toss him too, and fro,
Fights on, and as he falls, deceived by
Th'unconstant Ground, throws at his Enemy
His trembling Darts, till wandring here, and there,
The Daunian Youth distracted through their Fear,
Fly to the Shore, and leap into the Stream.
The Consul, who by Chance was mix'd with them,
That by the Earthquake fell, their Fight, in vain,
Upbraids. What then; I pray you, doth remain
To such as fly? To Hannibal thus you
His Way unto the Walls of Rome doth show:
You put both Fire, and Sword into His Hand,
'Gainst Jove's Tarpeian Tow'r: Oh Souldiers stand,
And Learn by me to fight; If ye deny
To fight at all, then Learn of me to dy;
Flaminius to Posterity shall give
No vile Example; and while I do live,

148

No Libyan, or Cantabrian, shall see
A Consul's Back, although alone I be.
But, if so great a Thirst, and Rage of Flight
Your Minds invades, their Weapons all shall light
Upon this Breast; and, after this my Fall,
My Ghost into the Fight shall you recall.

While thus he vents his Grief, and doth advance
To meet his num'rous Foes, with Countenance,
And Mind as Cruel, forth Ducarius came,
Who from his Ancestours deriv'd his Name;
And, since the Boian Armie's Overthrow,
Those Wounds, which he receiv'd so long ago,
As Marks of barb'rous Courage, did retain,
And, knowing the proud Conqu'rour's Face again,
Art Thou the Boians greatest Terrour? I
(Said he) by this my wounding Dart will try,
If th'Blood of such a Body may be shed:
Nor be You slack, more vulgar Hands, that Head
To Sacrifice to valiant Ghosts; 'twas he,
Who in his Chariot, proud of Victory,
Our captiv'd Fathers to the Capitol
Drove: and they, now, on You for Vengeance call.
With that a Showr of Darts, that ev'ry where
Fly, like a Tempest, through the darkned Air,
O'rewhelm, and hide his Body; so that none
Could after boast, that by his Hand, alone,
Flaminius dy'd. Thus with the General
The Fight soon ended: for the Chief of all
The Youth, as angry with themselves, and Heaven,
That to their Arms so ill Success had given,
And choosing rather once to dy, then see
The Affrican enjoy the Victory,
With Hands all bloody, in the fatal Fight,
Seise on their Gen'ral's Body, in their Sight

149

So lately slain, with all his Weapons; and,
United in a Ring, about him stand,
Till all, in one great Heap of Slaughter, dy'd,
And falling, like an Hill, his Body hid.
Now, having spread Destruction through the Wood,
And Lake, and left the Valleys deep in Blood,
To th'Heap of Bodies Hannibal withdrew,
And with him Mago: and, as them they view,
What Wounds? What Deaths are here? (said he) behold,
How ev'ry Hand still grasps a Sword, though cold
In Death! The armed Souldiers, as they ly,
Seem to maintain the Fight! How these did dy
Now let our Troops observe: the Threats appear
Yet in their Foreheads, and their Faces bear
Their living Anger, and, I fear, that Land,
Which fruitfull is in Men so valiant, and
Of so great Courage, Fates to her decree
The Empire of the World, and She shall be
Victorious in Distress. This said, He yields
To Night: and Darkness, over all the Fields
Diffus'd, (while Sol into the Sea descends)
Restrains their Fury, and the Slaughter ends.

The End of the Fifth Book.

151

The Sixth Book.

The Argument.

Brutius great Valour, who, before he dy'd,
His Eagle from his Foes i'th Earth doth hide.
Sorranus, wounded, to Perusa's Plains
By Night, retires: him Marus entertains,
And, having dress'd his Wounds, to him declares
Great Regulus (his Father's) Death, and Wars,
His Noble Courage in his Punishment.
Fabius elected General: his Descent.
The Romanes Sadness, and the People's Cries,
Affrighted at the Libyans Victories.
The Conqu'rours to Linternum go, and there
The Monuments, that did at large declare
The Victories by Sea, and Land, which Rome
From Carthage once had gain'd, with Fire consume.

But, when his Steeds in the Tartessiack Main,
Loos'd to give way to Night, Sol joyn'd again,
On the Eoan Shores, and Serians, who
The first of all the World his Beams review,
For silken Fleeces to their Groves repair,
The Place of sad Destruction ev'ry where

152

Appears, and Monuments of furious War.
Here Men, and Arms, and Horses, mingled are,
There Hands lop'd off, still to their Lances stick,
In Wounds of Bodies slain: there Targets thick,
Trumpets, and headless Trunks, ly scatter'd round
Through all the Plain: with Swords, that as they wound
'Gainst Bones were broke. Some with be-nighted Eys,
Half dead, in vain, there sought th'enlightned Skies.
The Lake all foams of Gore, and on the Waves
Float Bodies, that for ever want their Graves.
Yet midst these Miseries, and loss of Blood,
Firm, as her Fate, the Romane Valour stood.
Brutius, whose many Wounds declar'd that He
Against his Foes had fought unequally,
Scarce from the Heaps of th'miserable Dead,
('Mong whom he lay) had rais'd his wounded Head,
Striving with mangled Limbs to creep away,
His Nerves now shrinking, when the fatal Day
Was done. Him Fortune had not plac'd among
The Rich, nor was he honour'd for his Tongue,
Or his Descent: but Valiant with his Sword.
Nor did the Volscian Nation afford
Any, that had of Time recover'd more:
Nor sought he, when but yet a Boy, before
The Down had cloath'd his Cheeks, himself to hide
For Safety in the Camp. Flaminius try'd
His Courage, when in Fight he overthrew,
With better Gods, the Celtick Arms, hence grew
His present Honour, in all Wars, that he
The Keeper of the Sacred Bird should be.
Hence Glory made him to preserve with Care
The Cause of's Death. For when he did dispair
Of Life, perceiving nothing could withstand
To keep his Eagle from the Libyans Hand;

153

Since Fate gave Way, and that the Romane Side
Was ruin'd in the Fight, he sought to hide,
And bury't in the Earth; but overthrown
With sudden Darts again, and falling down,
Extends himself upon it, and beneath
His Body hides it, choosing such a Death.
But, when from Stygian Night, and Sleep, the Light
Return'd, he from the Neighb'ring Heaps, upright,
Arose upon his Spear, and Strong alone
In his Attempt, the Earth now overflown
With Blood, and softned by the standing Gore,
With's Sword he digs, and, as he doth adore
Th'unhappy Eagle's Image, with his Hand,
Now fainting, smooths again th'unequal Sand:
Then into thinner Air his Breath doth go,
And his great Soul unto the Shades below.

Near him was to be seen the Sacred Rage
Of Valour, whose Deservings do engage
Our Muse to sing its Fame. Levinus, born
On high Privernum, that rich Vines adorn,
Dead, on dead Nasamonian Tyres lay;
And, when unequal Fortune had, that Day,
Depriv'd him of his Arms, his Spear, and Sword,
Then naked in the Fight, his Griefs afford
New Weapons. With his bloody Mouth he flies
Upon his Fo, and with his Teeth supplies
His want of other Arms, and thus he tears
His Nostrills off, bites out his Eyes, his Ears
Pulls from his mangled Head, his Forehead too
Strangely disfigures; while the Blood doth flow
About his Jaws, yet this not satisfies,
Till with his Mouth, all full, he feeding dyes.

While Valour sadly to the Victour's Eye
These Wonders shews, the wounded Troops, that fly,

154

To various Chances are expos'd. Some through
By-wayes of desert Woods, some wandring go
By Night, through unfrequented Fields, and there
Each little Noise, or Motion of the Air,
Or flying Birds, affright them, and they finde
No Sleep, or quiet Thoughts, but still inclin'd
To fear, beleeve that Mago, with his Spear,
Or Hannibal pursues them in the Rear.

Serranus (a Renowned Name, thy Son
Great Regulus, whose lasting Fame shall run
Along with Time, to tell all Ages, how
With the perfidious Carthaginians, Thou
Thy Faith didst keep) in the first glorious State
Of's Youth, had enter'd, with his Father's Fate
The Punick War, and now sore wounded from
The Fight, to his sad Mother, and dear Home
Alone return'd; no Company to ease
His smarting wounds, but thus through devious waies,
Supported by his broken Lance, while Night
Gave him Protection, he a silent Flight
Towards thy Plains (Perusa) takes, and there
To a small Cottage, weary doth repair;
(Resolv'd to try his Fate) and knock's at Door.
Marus, who to his Father long before
A Souldier, of no mean Esteem had been,
Leaps quickly from his Bed to let him in,
And borrowing Light from the few Coals that lay
Upon the Hearth, lifts it up, to survey
His Face, which strait he knows, and saw (sad Sight)
Those cruel Wounds were giv'n him in the Fight.
His fainting Steps supported by his Spear:
(The Rumour of this Loss, before, his Ear
Had struck) What Wickdness is this (said he)
(Oh! born to bear too much Calamity,)

155

That I now see? Thee, greatest Captain, I
Beheld; when, ev'n in thy Captivity,
Thy Looks affrighted Carthage, and thy Fall
(Which We the Guilt, and Crime of Jove may call)
Gave me so deep a Wound, that from my Heart
Not Libya's Ruin can remove the Smart.
But Oh! where are Ye now, Ye Gods, again?
Himself great Regulus offers to be Slain,
And perjur'd Carthage, now (Oh Grief to see!)
This rising Branch of that great Family,
Hath quite, Alass! destroy'd. Thus having said,
The fainting Youth upon his Bed he lai'd;
Nor was he ignorant (for he in War
That Skill had learn'd) fit Med'cines to prepare:
And first with Water purg'd his Wounds, then Juice
Of Herbs, of healing Virtue, doth infuse;
Then binds them up, and with a tender Hand
Swaths on the Bolsters, with a gentle Band.

Thus having giv'n him Ease, 'twas his next Care,
T'allay his tedious Thirst, and to repair
His Strength with frugal Diet: this in Haste
Perform'd, kinde Sleep its Benefits, at last,
Apply'd, and gave his Body gentle Rest.
But, e're the Day again did gild the East,
Marus, as if he'd cast off Age, again
Was ready to allay the burning Pain,
That then return'd, with Med'cines try'd before,
And piously doth Nat'ral Warmth restore.
But here the Youth, lifting up to the Skies,
With Sighs, and frequent Groans, his weeping Eyes,
Said; Oh Immortal Jove! if yet thy Hate
To the Tarpeian Rock, Quirinus State
Hath not condemn'd, with a more kinde Aspect
On Italie's distress'd Affairs reflect.

156

Our Iliads of Woes behold: for we
The Alps have lost, and our Adversity
No Limits finds. Ticinus, and the Po,
Swoln high, with Romane Slaughter, overflow:
And Trebia's by Sidonian Trophies known;
With that sad Land, that Annus did renown.
But why do I complain of this? Alass,
Our present Miseries the rest surpass.
I saw thy Waters, Thrasimenus, swell
With slaughter'd Men. Flaminius, when he fell
Amidst the Weapons, I beheld: and all
The Shades below (my Gods) to witness call,
That by a Death, worthy my Father, I,
With Slaughter of my Foes, then sought to dy;
Had not hard Fates (as they my dearest Sire
Refus'd) deny'd a Death to my Desire.

Thus bitterly complaining, to divert
The Rest, old Marus speaks. Most noble Heart!
Whatever be our Lot, or whatsoe're
Our Fortune: it, like Romanes, let us bear.
Through various Chances, such, by the Decree
Of Heav'n, the Wheel of our Mortality
In a steep Path doth swiftly run. Of this
Thy Family a great Example is,
And fam'd through all the World. That Divine He,
Thy Noble Father (whom no Deity
Excells) 'mong all Eternal Honour gain'd,
For that he did Adversity withstand,
Nor shrunk from any Virtue; till his Breath
Was from his struggling Body forc'd by Death.
I hardly was a Youth, when Down began
On Regulus his Cheeks to sign him Man:
Yet, then, I his Companion was, and We
Our Years still pass'd with kinde Society;

157

Untill the angry Gods decreed that Light
Of the Italian Nation should quite
Extinguish'd be: within whose Noble Breast
Faith kept her Temple, and his Soul possest.
That Sword (an Ensign of great Honour) He,
As a Reward of Magnanimity,
On Me bestow'd, and Reins, you see, with Dust,
And Smoak now cover'd o're (but yet no Rust
Their Brightness stains) such Gifts as these prefer
Marus to any Romane Cavalier.
But, above all my Honours, I must prize
That Spear, to which I often Sacrifice
Streams of Lyæus Blood, as here you see;
'Tis worth your Time to know the History.

Slow Bragada plows up the thirsty Sand,
With troubled Waves: in all the Libyan Land,
No Flood more largely doth it self extend,
Or, Swelling, doth its Waters farther send
O're all the Fields. As thither We withdrew,
In search of Springs, of which that Land but few
Affords; upon the Banks We joyfull sate,
Hard by the Stygian Grove, that did dilate,
T'exclude the Day, its Shadow ev'ry where;
And a thick Vapour, breaking through the Air,
Expir'd a noisom Smell: within was found
A dire, and spacious Cave; that, under Ground,
With many Labyrinths did winding run,
And, ever Dark, had ne're beheld the Sun.
(The very Thoughts of it my Soul invades
With Fear) That fatal Bank, and Stygian Shades,
A most pernicious Monster, (by the Rage
Of Earth produc'd) whose Equal in no Age
Was seen, inhabited; a Snake of Strength
Prodigious, and an hundred Ells in Length:

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His immense Paunch, surcharg'd with Poison (kill'd
Upon the River's Banks) or Lyons fill'd;
Or Heards, that, scorched by the furious Heat
Of the Sun's Rays, did thither make Retreat;
Or Birds, that, by his pestilential Breath
Attracted from the Skies, there found their Death:
Bones, half-devour'd, upon the Ground were spread.
And thus, when he had plentifully fed
On divers Prey, within his Noisom Den,
He belching lay, and when the Fire, agen,
Of Thirst was kindled from his fervent Food,
He came to quench it in the Neighb'ring Flood,
And foaming Waves; and, e're half-way within
The Water his vast Bulk had drenched been,
His Head upon the adverse Bank would ly.
Not thinking of so great a Monster, I
With Havens, and Aquinus, forward go,
T'explore the Silence of the Place, and know
The Wood: when Horrour seiz'd, as we drew near,
Our Joynts, and all our Limbs congealed were,
With a most strange, unusual Cold, and yet
We enter, and the Nymphs, and Gods intreat
O'th' Flood, unknown, to favour what we do,
And thus, though full of Fear, presume to go
Into the secret Wood; when from the Mouth,
And Entrance of the Den (as from the South,
Raging with furious Storms) a Stygian Blast
Broke forth, and o're the Flood the Tempest cast,
Mix'd with an Hellish Noise. We, struck with Fear,
Gaze on each other's Face, and think We hear
The Earth to groan, and see it quake, the Den
To sink, and Ghosts to sally forth. But then
Big as those Snakes, wherewith the Giants arm'd
Themselves, when they the Court of Heav'n alarm'd:

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Or that which in the Fens of Lerna Thee,
(Alcides) tyr'd; or kept the golden Tree,
Such tearing up the Earth, and to the Skies
Lifting his Head, a Serpent here doth rise,
And 'mong the Clouds, disperseth, here, and there,
His Foam, and as he gapes, infects the Air.
We fled, and out of Breath, with Horrour, strove,
In vain, to raise a Cry (for all the Grove
His Hiss had fill'd) when Umbrian Havens, blind
With Fear, and much too blame (but Fate inclind
His Mind to what he did) himself betook
Unto the Body of an aged Oak,
Thinking, thereby, the Monster to deceive:
But (I my self could hardly this beleive,
Had I not seen 't) the Snake himself about
The Oak streight twines, and tears 't up by the Root.
Then trembling Havens, who to us for Aid
With his last Voice doth call, he doth invade,
And swallowing whole (this looking Back, I spy'd)
In his envenom'd Paunch doth quickly hide.
Next poor Aquinus, who, in's speedy Flight,
Himself unto the River did commit,
Swiming amidst the Stream, with fooming Jaws
He seiseth, and (a Death most cruel) draws
Back to the Banck, and there devours, while I
In the mean time, had Liberty to fly.
As much as my sick Thoughts permit, I haste,
And to the General tell all had past.
He sigh'd, and their sad Fate bewail'd, and as
Against an Enemy, in War he was
Most eager, burning with Desire to be
Active in high Attempts, commands, that we
With Speed, take Arms, and that the Choice of all
The Horse, into the Field should quickly fall:

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Himself advanc'd before, and gave Command,
That instantly a Target-bearing Band
Should follow, with the Engines us'd to be
Employ'd 'gainst Walls, and Towr's, for Battery.
And now, when, prancing on the Champaign Ground,
The furious Steeds began to Thunder round
His dismal Cave, the Serpent, hissing loud,
Leaps forth. A Stygian Vapour, like a Cloud,
Breaks from his smoaking Mouth; from's glaring Eyes
A Flame, as terrible as Lightning, flies:
His Crest, erected High, appears above
The Tops of tallest Trees within the Grove.
His Trident Tongue, which with a Motion quick
He waveth in the Air, the Stars doth lick.
But, when he heard the Trumpets sound, amaz'd,
His immense Body strait aloft he rais'd:
Then into num'rous Rings, beneath his Breast,
Contracts his Tail, and on his Back doth rest.
Thus fitted for the Fight, those twisted Rings
Were soon resolv'd, and, as himself he flings
At Length, he suddenly, as if at Hand,
The Faces, ev'n of those that farthest stand,
Invades. The Horses now no more obey
The Reins, or Curbs, but as they fly away
Trembling, and panting, from his Sight, expire,
From their extended Nostrills, frequent Fire.
On his swoln Neck to ev'ry Side he moves
His lofty Head; and, as his Rage improves,
Flings some aloft, some with his Weight were crush'd,
And as from broken Bones the Marrow Gush'd,
He licks it up, and, while the Blood doth flow
About his Jaws, invades another Fo,
And half-devoured Bodies throws away:
And now the Ensigns all, as if the Day

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Were lost, Retreat. Yet some, that farthest fly,
By his contagious Breath infected, dy.
But your great Father, lab'ring to restrain
The flying Troops, thus calls them back again.

What? to a Serpent basely turn your Backs,
Italian Youth? and yield to Libyan Snakes
Ausonia's Honour? If his Breath subdue
The Cowards; or their Courage, as they view
Him gape, be lost: Alone, I'le undertake
To fight the Monster. And, as this he spake,
From his strong Arm, a winged Jav'lin flies:
The barbed Point whereof between his Eys
Not lightly wounds his Front; and, Thrown with Strength,
Within the Head o'th' reeling Beast, at length,
It sinks, and Trembling stands. Confused Cries,
And Shouts of Joy, now strike the Marbled Skies.
Till then the Earth-born Monster ne're did feel
(Though he had liv'd so long) the wounding Steel:
A Stranger to all Pain; and, scorning so
To yield to any, doth more Furious grow.
Nor had his Rage been vain (which borrow'd Force
From what he felt) if, skill'd to guide his Horse,
(After the Wound) your Father had not wav'd
His fierce Assault, and, turning nimbly, sav'd
Himself: while, winding ev'ry way with Speed,
He furiously pursu'd the wheeling Steed.
But all this while your Marus did not stand,
As a Spectatour, with an idle Hand.
The second Spear, that wounded him, I flung.
Just as the weary Steed his forked Tongue
Lick'd on the Back, with all my Strength I threw
My Weapon: and, by that upon Me drew
His Fury, and the War; till all the Bands,
By our Example led, employ'd their Hands,

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And storm'd him with their Darts, that him engage
Alternately to exercise his Rage;
Till from a Warlike Engine, by a Stroke,
That would have batter'd down a Wall, we broke
His Strength, and yet (although he could no more,
His Back now broken, raise as heretofore
His Head unto the Clouds) more furious on,
He strove to come, till the Phalarick Stone
Into his Belly sunk, and then the Sight
Of both his Eyes, by winged Shafts, was quite
Extinguish'd: by those many Wounds, his Death
Approach'd. Then through his wider Jaws, his Breath
Infectious Poison (his last Refuge) cast.
Thus by our Darts, and pond'rous Stones, at last,
Stretch'd on the Ground, he prostrate lay, and yet
His Jaws, extended Wide, appear'd to threat,
Till, from an Engine shot, a Beam, that through
The yeilding Air, with a loud Fragour flew,
Struck off his Head, which as he gasping lay,
A pale dark Cloud of Poison (that the Day
Infected where it went) his Mouth exhal'd.
The mournfull River strait his Death bewail'd,
With hideous Groans, and dolefull Murmurs move
Upon the Waves; the Den, and Native Grove,
And Banks (upon whose Sands he us'd to Roule)
With a loud Eccho Roar, and sadly howl.
But oh, how soon this dismal Fight we rue!
With how great Loss! What Punishment we drew,
What Plagues upon our selves? The Prophets strait
Us of our Dangers, but (Alass!) too late,
Admonish; that we had the Servant slain
Of the blew Naiades, that did remain
In Bragada's warm Streams. But then this Spear
(As Honour, and Reward for what I there

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Had done) your Father gave Me, 'cause it stood
First fix'd, and drank the Sacred Serpent's Blood.
The Noble Youth, who wept while he relates
This Story, interrupts him. If the Fates
Had suffer'd Him to live till now (said He)
Trebia had ne're o'reflown with Blood, nor we
Had seen thy Billows (Thrasimenus) hide
So many Noble Names. Marus reply'd;
Yet he the Piacles of his sad Fate,
And cruel Torments, did anticipate
With Tyrian Blood. For Africk, wanting Men,
Her Wealth consum'd, had begg'd our Mercy; when
Therapne, mov'd by some malignant Star
Sent forth a Man to prosecute the War.
Of Stature he was low; no comely Grace
Of Meen, or Signs of Honour in his Face:
But admirable Vigour in so small
A Body; Active: one, that could the Tall,
And Larger-Limb'd, o'recome. This Man, design'd
To manage now the War against us, joyn'd
To Arms strong Policy. In Desarts he
Could live, and greatest Hardship easily
Survive. Not Hannibal, who now so well
For Libya guids the War, doth him excell.
Oh would to Heaven, Tayegeta! (most sad,
And fatal unto us) by thee He had,
Upon Eurota's Banks, ne're hardned been:
Then in victorious Flames I might have seen
Phanissa's Walls to sink, nor then the Fall
Had I lamented of my General.
Nor should (for Death, nor Fire can ease my Wo)
My Griefs bear with me to the Shades below.
Both Armies take the Field, and through the Plains
The God of War grows hot, and Fury Reigns

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In every Breast. Here Regulus, in great
Attempts, lets loose his Sword, and hast's to meet
With Dangers in the mid'st of all his Foes,
And with his valiant Hand, gives deadly Blows.
So, when the South Wind, on his Wings doth bear
A pitchy Cloud, that hanging in the Air,
Both to the Sea, and Land, a Tempest threats,
The Husbandman, and Shepheard strait retreats
For Shelter, to the Woods; and Fear prevails
With the Stout Seaman, to contract his Sails.

But the Laconian, having lai'd his Snare,
Secur'd the hollow Rocks; and, leaving there
His Men, upon a Sudden, from the Fight,
Wheeling, he turns his Horse, pretending Flight,
With fained Fear. So Shepheards to secure
Their Flocks within their Folds, by Night allure
Wolves into Pits, the which they over-lay
With Boughs, and with a bleating Lamb betray.
Honour, by which brave Minds inflamed are,
And a fallacious Confidence in War,
Invited; and, drew on your Noble Sire,
Who Spurring on, as mad with a Desire
To fight, ne're looks, if his Companions were
Behind him, or who follow'd in the Rear.
When all alone, a thick, and sudden Cloud
Of fierce Laconians, that themselves did shrow'd
Among the hollow Rocks, him round invest,
And the Force of his Ruin still encreas't.
Oh fatal Day to Italy! to be
Mark'd in our Fast, as the Infamy
Of thee, Oh Mars! those Hands that to thy Rome,
And thee were born, by a most fatal Doom
Are now condemn'd to Chains. My Greif will be
Eternal! a Sidonian Dungeon Thee

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(Great Regulus) beheld! and by the odds
Of such a Triumph, Carthage to the Gods
Seem'd equal. But what Plagues sufficient are
For the Laconians Guilt of such a War?

But now the Carthaginian Fathers all
Consult, to offer to our General
New Leagues, and send him Home to mediate
A Peace; requiring that the Captivate
In War, might be return'd on either Side;
And, now no more Delay: the Ship doth ride
At Anchor in the Road, the Seamen are
Employ'd, their Oars, and Benches to prepare:
Some fit the twisted Cables, others haste
To furle, and trim the Sails upon the Mast;
Others the Anchors place upon the Prow:
But above all, Cothon, ordain'd to go
Chief Pilot of the Ship, in Sea-Affairs
Renown'd for Skill, the Helm, and Poop prepares.
The triple-pointed Beak, its shining Raies
(Most richly guilt) o're all the Sea displaies.
Weapons, and all things else that needfull were
'Gainst Dangers of the Sea, with them they bear,
Amidst the Ship, upon the Decks he stands,
That timeth with his Voice the Seamens Hands,
And bids them strike at once, and as again
They raise their Oars (that eccho o're the Main)
Applauds them all. Thus when they had perform'd
The Seamens Work, the Ship compleatly arm'd,
And th'Hour arriv'd, to hoise up Sail, and weigh
Their Anchors, and the Wind was fair for Sea;
A multitude of Women, Children, Men,
Together flock'd, and envious Fortune then
Dragg'd through the Throng our Noble General,
And shew'd him, as a Spectacle to all.

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He, in their View, as smooth a Forehead bore,
As when he first, on the Sidonian Shore,
Arrived with his Fleet. With his Consent,
In the same Ship, I his Companion went;
Resolving his Adversity to share,
And thought it greater Fortitude to bear
Their Nastiness, ill Diet, and their poor,
Obdurate Beds, and to contend with more
Important Miseries; then to subdue
A Fo. Nor is't so honourable to
Avoid Misfortunes, by our Vigilance;
As to O'recome, by Noble Sufferance,
Whatever Fate can do. And yet (though I
Knew his severe, and rigid Constancy)
I hop'd, if Heav'n permitted us to come
Within our Citie's Walls, and see our Home,
His Heart might then relent, or by your Tears
(At least) be mollifi'd. Thus I my Fears
Kept in my Breast, and thought that he inclin'd
To weep, and had, in Misery, a Minde
Like mine. But, when we came to Tybur, I
Observ'd his Face, and most intentively
Beheld his Looks, which inward Sense betray.
But credit me (brave Youth) in what I say,
His Countenance amid'st a thousand Toils
Abroad, and when at Home enrich'd with Spoils,
And when to cruel Carthage he was sent,
And in the Instant of his Punishment,
Unalter'd I beheld, and still the Same.
Then all Ausonia from her Cities came
To meet the Captive; all the Neighb'ring Hills,
(The Plains already throng'd) their Number fills,
And Tybur to his Banks the Noise imparts:
But the Sidonian Princes (cruel Hearts!)

167

Strive to reduce him to their Countrey's Dress,
And so the Honour of the Gown suppress.
The Senate weeping stood; the Matrons throng,
And Youth, to shew their Greifs; while He, among
So many Sighs, unmoved stands. His Hand,
The Consul on the Shore, as he on Land
First stept, extends to help him, and to meet
With kind Respect, and his Arrival greet.
He stepping back (still carefull of our State)
Requires the Consul not to violate
His Supream Dignity, but to retire.
Then on he goes, (while Weeping we admire
His Constancy) and compass'd by the proud
Sidonians, and with them a Captive Croud,
Rais'd Envy in the Gods. But now, his Flame,
With her two hopefull Sons, sad Martia came;
Unhappy in her Noble Lords Excess
Of Virtue, that disdain'd in his Distress,
To stoop to Fortune. Her dishevel'd Hair,
And Robes, neglected, as she sadly tare,
Oh know'st thou not the Day, or can it be,
It touch'd thee not in younger Years (said she)
And when in Tyrian Habit (like Disguise)
Deform'd she saw him, then with mournfull Cryes,
She fainting fell, and strait grew Cold, and Pale
In all her Limbs (Oh let our Prayers prevail!
And if the Gods be just, may Carthage see
Such the Sidonian Mothers!) then to me
He whispers, and commands that I remove
You, and your Mother, while he still doth prove
Impenetrable 'gainst the strongest Blow
Of Grief, and Scorns that Yoak to undergo.
Here with deep Sighs, and Tears complaining, thus
The Youth begun: Dear Father, whom with us

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No Deity excells, that doth remain
In the Tarpeian Tow'rs; if to Complain
May be allow'd to Piety: Oh! why
This Comfort unto Us did'st Thou deny?
Or why, Oh! why (Thou too severe) that Grace
Did'st thou refuse to touch thy Sacred Face,
Or Kiss Thee? To joyn Hands, was it a Sin
So great? How much these Wounds had lighter been,
If, fixed in my Minde, when I repair
To Shades below, I Thy Embrace might bear.
But I in vain these things Record; for we
Were then (my Marus) in our Infancy.
Yet, I remember well, his Form was more
Then Humane; that his Locks descended o're
His Manly Neck, white as the Alpine Snow;
Stern Majesty was seated on his Brow:
The Venerable Index of his Minde;
Such as, since then, mine Eyes could never finde.

Then Marus, him advising to refrain,
By such Complaints, to vex his Wounds again,
Resumes the Word. What? when he careless past
By his own Houshold Gods, and went in haste
To the Sidonians curs'd Abode? his Eyes
The Monuments of his great Victories
Then saw hung up; as Shields, and Chariots, and
Known Darts: while at the Door his Wife doth stand
And cryes; Oh! whither goes my Regulus?
This is no Punick Dungeon, that Thou thus
Should'st fly both it, and Me. The Foot-steps here
Of our Chast Marriage-Bed are yet as clear,
As at the first. Our House still entertains
Its Gods without a Crime: Then say: what Stains
In us thou find'st? The Senate gave thee Joy,
When I to thee This, and that other, Boy

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Had born: Oh turn, and see! This House is Thine,
Where Thou, a Noble Consul, once didst shine
In Purple Robes; and, marching from this Door,
Did'st see the Romane Fasces go before.
Hence did'st Thou go to War, and here, with Me,
Wert wont the Trophies of Thy Victory
To fix, against these Posts. I ask not now
The Rites of Hymen, or Our Nuptial Vow:
Onely desist Our Houshold-Gods to slight,
And to Thy Sons, at least, allow This Night
Amidst these Tears, He with the Tyrians goes
To lodge, and left Her venting thus Her Woes.

Scarce had the rising Day on Orta seen
The Place, where great Alcides Pile had been;
When for the Libyan Lords the Consul sent.
I, at the Gate beheld Him, as He went
Into the Temple: what the Senate there
Debated, what His last Addresses were
To the sad, weeping Court, Himself to Me
Did Chearfully relate. So soon as He
Was enter'd; with their Hands, and Voices, all
Him to his wonted Seat, contending, call.
But He, the antient Honour of His Place
Rejects; while they, about Him throng'd, embrace,
And take Him by the Hand, and thus intreat;
He would restore a Captain of so great
A Name unto his Countrey; He might be
Exchang'd for Numbers in Captivity.
And then more justly might the Tyrian Land,
And Towers, be wasted by that valiant Hand;
Which they had bound in Chains. But He, His Eyes,
And Hands together, lifting to the Skies,
Thou God of Justice (said) that govern'st all!
And Faith, whom I no less Divine may call!

170

And Sarran Juno! all invok'd by Me,
My Promise of Return to testifie!
Let Me speak Worthy of my self, and by
My Words prevent my Countrie's Ruin: I
More chearfull shall to Carthage go (said He)
If that my Promise of Return may be
Preserv'd, though 't be to Punishment. Oh then!
Desist to tender unto Me agen
That Honour, with Destruction to the State.
My many Years, and Wars, accelerate
My Death: and now, by long Imprisonment,
And Bonds, in this my Age, my Strength is spent.
Your Regulus Was once, and did pursue
The hardest Duties of the War, when you
Did know Him such: but now within a Cold,
And bloodless Body, you a Name behold.
Oh! let not Carthage then (that House of Fraud,
That doth her self in Treachery applaud)
Not knowing how great things to Us remain,
Think, for this aged Body, to regain
Her Captiv'd Youth, Men fit for War. But go
Arm'd against Her Deceits, and let her know
What Rome can do; though I am Captivate:
Nor let a Peace accepted be, but what
Our Fathers entertain'd. They now require
(And gave it Me in Charge, as their Desire)
That in an equal League, the War be weigh'd,
And equal Laws on either Side be made.
But may I Sink to Styx, before I see
The Romanes to so base a Peace agree.

This said; the Court resolving to pursue
His Faithfull, Grave Advice: he strait withdrew,
Himself to render to the Libyans Ire.
Who, with a sad Repulse of their Desire

171

Dismiss'd, return'd, through the Herculean Main,
Threatning their cheerfull Captive, Home again.
After the Senate, now, a mournfull Croud
Of People throng, and all the Fields with loud
Complaints are fill'd: sometimes resolv'd again
To call him back, or else by Force retain,
With their just Griefs. But Trembling, 'bove them all,
His Wife, as at his sudden Funeral,
When to the Ship he went, with dolefull Cries,
And Shreekings, to the Sea, as Frantick, flies.
Take Me along, O Libyans, let Me
Share both his Death, and Punishment (said She)
My Dear (I beg this One thing onely, by
Those Pledges of our Loves) permit, that I
May Share with Thee whatever Dangers be
Destin'd by Land, or Sea, or Heav'n to Thee:
I did not send Xantippus to the War,
Nor did I give those heavy Chains, that are
About thy Neck: why then dost fly Me so
To Punishment? Oh! give me leave to go;
Me, and my Children, and perhaps, our Tears
May Carthage move to Pity. If her Ears
The cruel City stop, we then may all,
Thou, and thy Family together fall:
Or, if resolv'd to dy, here dy with Me;
For I a Sharer in thy Fate will be.

As thus she spoke, the Vessel by Degrees,
Loos'd from the Shore, to put to Sea, She sees:
Then most Unhappy, mad with Grief, She cries,
(Lifting her weary Hands unto the Skies)
See Him that boasts, with treach'rous Libyans, thus,
And Foes, to keep his Faith, but what to Us
Was promis'd Violates! Oh! where is now
(Perfidious man) thy Faith, and Nuptial Vow?

172

These Words He, unrelenting, heard, The rest
The Noise, and Dashing of the Oars, supprest.

Then down the River, with the Stream, We run
Unto the Borders, where the Sea begun.
O're which We sail, and with Our hollow Pine
Cleave the vast Billows, foaming with their Brine.
I, dreading, more then Death, proud Libya's Scorn,
Wish'd that the Ship, by some rude Tempest born
Against some Rock, might split; or else that We
Might, by the raging Seas, o'rewhelmed be.
But gently-breathing Winds, the Vessel bore
Away, and Us to Libyan Rage restore:
Which I, unhappy, saw; and Home was sent,
A sad Relatour of his Punishment.
'Twas an hard Task: nor would I now relate
To Thee, how Carthage then did imitate
The Fury of wild Beasts, to vent their Spleen:
If any Age, in all the World, had seen
Any thing Greater, then that high, and brave
Example, which the Rev'rent Virtue gave
Of your great Father. 'Twere a Shame for Me
To add Complaints to those dire Torments, He,
So unconcern'd, endur'd: and truly You,
Worthy of so great Blood, Your self should shew,
By wiping Tears away. A Cage they build
Of Wood, whose Grates, on ev'ry Side, were fill'd
With equal Pikes of Steel; which sharp, and thick,
By Art, in Order, plac'd, erected stick.
All Sleep by this Invention was deny'd,
And when, through length of Time, to either Side
Dull Slumbers Him inclin'd, a Row of Pikes
Into his Bowels, through his Body strikes.
Oh! cease to grieve (brave Youth) suppress thy Tears.
He Overcomes, that this with Patience bears.

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His Glory long shall flourish: while in Heav'n,
Or Earth, to constant Faith, a Place is giv'n;
Or Virtue's Sacred Name alive shall be.
A Day shall come, wherein Posterity
(Great Regulus) shall tremble, when they hear
Thy Fate, which Thou with so much Scorn did'st bear.
Thus Marus spoke, and with sad Care, again,
His Wounds fomented, to allay the Pain.

Fame, in the mean time, having sprinkled o're
Her rapid Wings with Blood (as if before
Dip'd in the Streams of Thrasimenus) Lies
With Truth commixing, through the City flies,
And to the People's Minds again recalls
The Loss of Allia, and Tarpeian VValls,
Storm'd by the Senones. Sad Terrour shakes
Her Reins, and Fear the Tempest greater makes.
Now to the Walls, with winged Speed, She flies,
An horrid Voice is heard, Our Enemies
Approach: and then with Piles, and Darts, the Air,
In vain, they beat. Th'affrighted Matrons bare
Their hoary Locks, and with them, as they Weep,
The Walls, and Pavements of the Temples sweep,
And to the Gods, for Friends deceased, pray;
Too late Alass! and rest not Night, or Day.
Howling with Grief, the scatter'd People ly
Before the Gates, and with a carefull Eye
All that return observe. About them throng,
And, as they speak, hang listning at their Tongue;
But cannot Credit give, if News of Joy
They chance to tell, and yet again their Stay
Intreat, and sometimes with sad Looks, alone,
Not Words, with such, as hasted to be gone,
Prevail for Tdings, and yet Trembling stand
To hear, what they so Earnestly demand.

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Bad News doth Force their Tears, and, if deni'd
To know, or if the Messenger reply'd
With doubtfull Words, from thence new Fears arise.
And now when Troops returning, to their Eyes,
More near appear'd, out at the Gates they run
(Fearing they had been lost) and then begun
To Kiss their Wounds, and tire the Gods with Pray'r.
Among these, honoured for his pious Care,
Old Marus, with him, young Serranus led.
And Martia, who since Regulus was dead,
Still kept at Home, all Company forsook,
And onely for her Childrens Sake did brook
The Light, now runs into a Grief as great,
As was her former. Though distracted, strait
She Marus knew, and thus accosts him: Thou,
(Great Faiths renown'd Companion) surely now
Thou giv'st me lighter Wounds: or say, hath Fate
Caus'd the revengefull Sword to penetrate
Into my Bowels, deep? What e're it be,
So Carthage Him in Chains may never see,
Nor Sacrifice Him to His Father's Pain,
I'm pleas'd. Ye Gods! How oft have I, in vain
(Oh my dear Son) intreated Thee, forbear
Thy Father's Courage, and His Heat in War?
That his sad Glory might not Thee engage
In Arms. I have, of too vivacious Age
The hard Afflictions undergone. But now
Spare Us, I pray, ye Gods! If any of you
For Us have fought: suppress the Enemy!

But when this sullen Cloud of Misery
Was past; the Senate with all Speed prepares
To give Support to their distress'd Affairs.
All strive, with Emulation, the War
To undertake; and present Dangers bar

175

The Progress of their Griefs. The chief of all
Their Cares was, to appoint a General,
Upon whose Conduct shaken Italy,
And the whole Frame of her Affairs, might be
Impos'd; when now their Countrey did appear
To sink. For Jove resolved to defer,
Awhile, the Time of Her Imperial Pow'r:
And, rising, look'd from the Albanian Tow'r
Upon the Tyrrhen People, and beheld
The Carthaginian, with Successes swell'd,
Preparing his Victorious Arms t'invade
Our Walls. But Jove, his Head then shaking, said:
I never will permit, that Thou shalt come,
Proud Libyan Youth, within the Walls of Rome.
Thou mayst the Tyrrhen Vales with Slaughter fill,
And make with Latine Blood the Rivers swell,
And overflow their Banks: but I defend,
That the Tarpeian Rock thou shouldst ascend;
Or to those Walls (so dear to Me) aspire.

With that, four Times, he threw his forked Fire;
Which shin'd through all the Tyrrhen Land, and cast
A Cloud upon the Army, as it past
From the divided Heav'n. But, yet, all this
The Libyan to divert could not suffice.
With that the God th'Æneades possest
With Resolution, in a faithfull Breast,
The Nation to repose, and put the Reins
Of Safety into Noble Fabius Hands.
Perceiving then the Pow'r of War to be
Entrusted to his Care; not Him (said He)
Envy, nor Fame, with Libyan Vanity
Guided; nor Spoil; nor cunning Treachery;
Nor other base Desires shall overthrow:
Skilfull, and old in War, He well doth know

176

Success, and Loss with equal Thoughts to bear;
His Minde well temper'd both for Peace, and War.
Thus Jove: and then remounted to the Skies.

This Fabius, whom his Foes could ne're surprize
In Arms, and thus by Jove commended, thought
Himself most Happy, when entire He brought
Those Numbers Home again, which He before
Conducted to the Field; and no Man more
Desir'd Himself, or dearest Son to spare,
Then He did them; none with so sad a Care
Beheld their Wounds in Fight: and when again
He came, a Conqu'rour, with the Noble Stain
Of hostile Blood besmear'd, his Legions all
Appear'd compleat, before the Citie's Wall.
His fam'd Original with Heav'n did claim
Alliance: for when great Alcides came
From Spain, Gerion's Spoils (his Monstrous Kine)
He, that Way, where the Walls of Rome do shine,
In Triumph drove. Then did Arcadius found
(As Fame reports) in Rude, and Desart Ground
His Palace, and a needy People swai'd:
When, by his Sacred Guest, the Royal Maid,
Arcas (his Daughter) overcome, with Joy,
From that her Crime of Love, conceiv'd a Boy,
Was Fabius nam'd; from Him, a Mother she
Became, to a Tyrinthian Progeny.
And hence three hundred Fabii once did go,
All from one House, in Arms, against the Fo;
Whose most Renowned Actions, by his Wise
Delaies (which then Alone could equalize
The Libyan Conduct) this Our Fabius all
Excell'd. So great, then, wert Thou Hannibal!

But, while the Latines busily prepare
To raise Recruits, and re-inforce the War,

177

The Carthaginian Captain, terrified
By Jove, and having lai'd his Hopes aside
Of batt'ring Rome's high Walls, his Army leads
Up to the Umbrian Hills, where Tuder spreads,
Upon an high Descent, its hanging Walls,
And where Mevania o're large Fields exhales
Thick, gloomy Clouds; and, Consecrate to Jove
Fat Bulls, through Rich, and Wealthy Pastures move.
From thence, desirous of Picenian Prey,
Through the Palladian Fields he makes his Way,
And wheresoe're the Spoil invites Him, there
His wandring Troops, their plundring Ensigns bear:
Till fair Campania stop'd his furious Course
And, undefended, entertain'd the Force
O'th' War, within her Bosome. As He there
Beheld the Temple, and the Buildings near
Linternus swelling Stream, he fix'd his Eyes
Upon the various Pictures, where he spies,
The Monuments o'th' former War, maintain'd,
By th'Romane Senate. For they there remain'd
Carv'd on the Porches, and all things exprest
In Order, and at large. Before the rest
Great Regulus appears to instigate
The War: a War, which (had he known his Fate)
He would have shun'd. There Noble Appius stood
In a pitcht Field, and high in Libyan Blood,
From their great Slaughter, a just Triumph, Crown'd
With Lawrel gain'd. Near these, at Sea renown'd,
Duillius, on a Snow-white Column Rose,
Bearing his Naval Trophies; Stems, and Prows
Of Ships, the first that Italy had known
Those Spoils (the Tyrian Navy overthrown)
To Dedicate to Neptune. Near Him stand,
His Nightly Glories, shining Torches, and

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His Sacred Trumpeter, that from a Feast
Was wont with chearfull Sounds (that Joy exprest)
T'attend him to his honour'd Home: and then
The Honours of that Noble Citizen,
Deceas'd, He sees. Near these doth Scipio stand,
And celebrates, in the Sardôan Land,
The Tyrian Captain's Funerals, subdu'd
By Him. Then, on the Libyan Shores, He view'd
The routed Bands, in scatter'd Parties, fly
About the Field, and Regulus hard by,
Pursuing at their Backs: the Nomades,
The Garamantians, the Autololes,
The Moors, and Hammon lay down Arms, and yield
Their Cities up. Within a Sandy Field
Slow Bragada with Poison foams, and there
A Serpent 'gainst an Army makes a War.
Then from his Ship Xantippus thrown, in vain
Calling upon the Gods, was in the Main
By a perfidious Band, most sadly drown'd.
And there too late (great Regulus) He found
The Punishment of Thy unhappy Death.
The two Ægates likewise, from beneath
The Waves, they make to rise: about them lay
Torn Ships, and Libyans, floating on the Sea.
Lord of the Ocean, then Luctatius bore
Away, with a propitious Gale, to Shore
The Captiv'd Ships. With these (in Order all)
Amilcar (Father to the General)
Stood bound, and, from all other Objects, drew
Upon himself the People's Eyes, to view
His stern Aspect: and then was to be seen
The Face of Peace, the Altars, that had been
Polluted with the League, and Jove deceiv'd,
The Romane giving Laws; and, as they heav'd

179

Their Axes up, the Libyan trembling stands,
And, begging Pardon with submissive Hands,
Swears, but in vain, the League. This, from the Sky,
Fair Cytherea, with a joyfull Eye,
Beheld. But, when the Libyan General
Had, with a troubled Brow, survai'd it all;
His slow contracted Rage, that all the while
Boil'd in His Breast, thus, with a scornfull Smile
He vents. We, likewise, things as great, by Me
Perform'd, shall carved on Our Houses see.
Let Me (O Carthage) see Sagunthus, all
At once, by Fire, and Sword, together fall.
Sons by their Fathers kill'd, and let there be
Space, large enough, the Conquer'd Alps to see,
Whereon Victorious Nomades may ride,
And Garamantians. Let Me see, beside,
Ticinus overflow his Banks with Blood,
And Trebia's, and Thrasimenus Flood
Choak'd up with Thuscan Corps. Flaminius, great
In Body, and in Arms, there finde his Fate.
Let Consul Scipio bleeding fly, and, on
The weary Shoulders of his Pious Son,
To's Friends, be born. Let this divulged be;
Carthage shall greater things hereafter see.
Rome burnt in Libyan Flames shall there be shown,
And Jove from his Tarpeian Temple thrown.
In the mean time (as it becomes Ye) you,
Brave Youth, by whose Assistance I can do,
And have done things so Great, go quickly; burn
Those Monuments, and them to Ashes turn.

The End of the Sixth Book

181

The Seventh Book.

The Argument.

Fabius is for the War Dictatour made:
The Libyan, by His Policy delai'd,
Wasts the Falernian Countrey, and, to gain
A Battel, sev'ral Waies removes, in Vain,
Untill at length, by the Ausonian Bands
Encompass'd, in a Vale, besieg'd, he stands:
His Stratagem, by which His Troops agen
Are from this Danger freed: the Romane then,
With Mutiny demanding Battel, are
By Fabius appeas'd. At length the War
Is to Minutius left, who soon doth yield
To their Designs, and rashly takes the Field
To fight: at first the Libyan prevails,
Till Fabius, while all other Succour fails,
Came to the Romanes Aid, who get the Day,
And Sacrifices to his Honour pay.

But Fabius, the onely Hope, and Stay
Of Rome's distress'd Affairs, Ausonia
(Now sinking through her Wounds) and her Allies
Soon arms: and vig'rously himself applies
(Though old) the hardest Toils to undergo,
And with his Army march'd against the Fo.

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His Understanding more, then Man's, no Force
Of Darts, no Weapons, nor the Strength of Horse
Regarded; but he went, alone, 'gainst all
The Libyan Forces, and their General,
As yet Unconquer'd; keeping in his Breast,
Alone, the Strength, and Safety of the Rest:
And, if He had not then resolv'd to stay
The Course of Adverse Fortune, by Delay,
That, the last Age of the Dardanian Name
Had surely been, and Rome had lost her Fame.
The Favour of the Gods, that did attend
The Punick Arms, He temper'd, and an End
To Libya's Conquests put. The Enemy,
Insulting in the Woes of Italy,
By his wise Conduct He debell'd, and all
The Fraud deluded of proud Hannibal.
Most Noble General! Who Troy again,
Lapsing to Ruin, dost alone sustain,
And sinking Italy! Who dost uphold
Evander's Empire, and whate're of old
The Labours of our Fathers gain'd in Wars,
Go on, and raise thy Name unto the Stars.

But, when new Titles had proclaim'd the Choice
Of the Dictatour, by the publick Voice,
The Libyan Prince, revolving in his Minde,
That something of Importance had inclin'd
The Romanes to that Change of their Command,
So suddenly, desir'd to understand
What was the Fortune of the Man, what were
His Honours, or why Fabius should appear
Their last, safe Authour, in Distress? Why He,
After so many Storms, by Rome should be
Thought equal unto Hannibal? and yet
It vex'd him, that his Years did want that Heat,

183

That might expose him, through Temerity,
To his Deceits, and therefore instantly
He for a Captive calls, t'enquire of all
His Customs, Actions, and Original.
Cilnius, a Youth, and of a Noble Name,
From fair Aretium to Ticinus came,
In an unhappy Hour, and by a Wound,
That overthrew his Horse, fal'n to the Ground:
His Neck to Libyan Chains then yielded. He,
Desirous by his Death himself to free,
The Libyan thus informs. Thou hast not, now,
With fierce Flaminius (said He) to do,
Or Gracchus rash Resolves: his Family
From the Tyrinthian Gods deriv'd; had he
Within thy Countrey (Hannibal) been born,
Carthage the World's Imperial Crown had Worn.
With a long Series I'le not strive to show
Particulars: let this suffice, to know
The Fabii, by one Combat having broke
The Peace, and shaken off the Romane Yoak,
The bold Veientes brought the War's Alarms
Ev'n to our Gates; the Consul cites to Arms
Th'old listed Bands; Alcides Progeny
Fills up a private Camp; one Family
Sends a Patrician Army to the Fight,
Three hundred Captains (each whereof you might
Trust safely with the Conduct of a War)
Appear. But, going forth, they threatned are
With dire Presages. Conscious of their Fate,
The trembling Threshold of the Guilty Gate
Sends forth a fatal Sound: that Altar roar'd
Where chiefly the Tyrinthian God's ador'd.
Yet they invade the Fo, and with so fierce
A Valour charge, that their small Number scarce

184

Could be distinguish'd, and their Slaughters are,
More then the Souldiers: oftentimes the War,
In Globes compacted close, they entertain.
As oft dispers'd, in Parties, through the Plain,
They Dangers meet. Equal in Labours all,
And Valour, merit to the Capitol
To lead three hundred Triumphs: but, Alass,
How vain those Hopes! each Man forgetfull was
How soon all things, that humane are, decline!
These men, disdaining, while the Fabian Line
Was safe, that Publick Wars should waged be;
Incompass'd by a sudden Enemy,
Fell, by the Envy of the Gods! but yet
Thou hast no Cause of Joy, in their Defeat,
For the Surviver is enough for Thee,
And Libya: as with all their Hands will He
Alone contend; his Limbs so Active are,
So Circumspect his Industry, and Care,
Secur'd with cautious Ease. Not you, whose Veins,
Swell'd high with youthfull Blood, can with the Reins
Sooner restrain, nor prick the Warlike Steed
Into the Battel, with more furious Speed.
But Hannibal perceiving, as He spoke,
He coveted to dy: Thou dost provoke
In vain (thou Fool) our Rage, and seek'st to free
Thy self from Bondage by Thy Death (said He)
No, Thou shalt live, and straiter Chains shall press
Thy captive Neck. Thus, swelling with Success,
And the propitious Gods, he vents his Scorn.

But, by Religion, to the Altars born,
The Fathers, and the Latine Dames, their Eyes
With Sorrow fill'd: in order'd Companies,
A Robe, and Vows, to Juno offer, Hear
Oh Queen of Gods! lend us a willing Ear,

185

We, a Chast People, pray Thee. We, who be
The chief of the Ausonians, to Thee
This fair, and venerable Garment, wrought
By our own Hands, with Threds of Gold, have brought,
And till the Fears of Mothers do decrease,
This shall Thy Vesture be. And, if Thou please,
That this Marmarick Cloud we may behold
Far scatter'd from Our Land, a Crown of Gold,
Enlai'd with various Gemms, to Thee shall shine.
This Goddess thus ador'd: to Pallas Shrine,
They proper Off'rings bring, then worship Thee
Venus, and Phœbus, and the Deity
Of War: from the approach of Miseries,
So great a Rev'rence of the Gods doth rise.
The Happy seldom to their Altars come.

While antient Honours in Her Temples Rome
Thus celebrates: great Fabius takes the Field,
With his well-order'd Troops; and, as most skil'd
In Warlike Arts, like one Secure, though Slow,
All Avenues 'gainst Fortune, and the Fo
Blocks up, and from their Ensigns suffers none
To stray; and that, which, chiefly, Thee doth Crown
(Brave Romane) and thy Empire's Head so high
Hath lifted, taught thy Souldiers to obey.

But, when, from far, their Ensigns, all in View,
Upon the Hills, and all the Troops in new
Bright Arms appear'd: the Libyan Hopes swell high,
And Hannibal, with His Prosperity
Enflam'd, believ'd His Victorie's Delay
Was onely, that the Armies in Array
Were not drawn forth to fight. Go on (said He)
Quickly assault their Ports; let their Works be
Ev'n by your Breasts o'rethrown: I'me sure the Fo
No longer hath to Live, then We can go

186

Over the Plain between Us: for, to War
Their Sedentary old Men cited are,
With whom to fight, I am, almost, asham'd.
What you now see, are their Remains, disclaim'd
As wholly useless, in the former War.
Where is their Gracchus now? Or now where are
Those Thunderbolts, the Scipios? expell'd
From Italy, they ne're their Flight with held;
Till, frighted, to the farthest Part they came
O'th' Earth, and Sea. Now, trembling at Our Name,
Both wander, and Iberus Banks defend,
And where We are not, there a War pretend.
I, likewise, from Flaminius Death may claim
In crease of Honour, and his Active Name
In War, among my other Titles lay.
How many years this Sword shall take away
From Fabius? Yet he dares, but let him dare;
I'le make, Me shall no more in Arms appear.
This spoke aloud, His Troops with furious Speed,
He leadeth on, and mounted on His Steed,
Sometimes with His Right Hand provokes His Foes;
Sometimes upbraids them; then, at Distance, throws
A Dart, insulting in His Armie's Sight,
Shewing the Image of a future Fight.
So Thetis Son, in the Dardanian Field,
Bore his Vulcanian Arms, and in his Shield,
Express'd the Earth, and Heav'n, and 's Mother curl'd
With Waves; and, in that Figure, all the World.

But Fabius, carefull to delay, sits still,
And his vain Fury, on a lofty Hill,
Beholding, checks his proud insulting Mind,
And tires his furious Threats, while he declin'd
The Fight. So when by Night a Shepheard keeps
His Flocks in fenced Folds, and safely sleeps,

187

The hungry Wolves fierce Howlings round about,
Streight raise, and gnaw the Fence that keeps them out.
The Libyans Design, thus render'd vain,
Thence with his Army, through th'Appulian Plain,
He slowly march'd; and, sometimes, closely sate,
Conceal'd in Vallies, to precipitate,
His following Fo, or try, if He might be
Surpriz'd, unwarily, by Policy.
Sometimes by secret Waies, He steals by Night,
And then Retreats in a pretended Fright.
Then from his Camp, full of rich Plunder goes,
And prodigally thus invites his Foes.
So, with innumerable turnings through
Mæonian Plains, doth fam'd Mæander flow.
Nothing that Fraud can do, is left untry'd.
He trurns o're all, and all his Thoughts apply'd,
To various Attempts. As when the Sun
Shining on Water, by Reflection,
Leaps on the Houses tops, and glistering sheds
In constant Raies, and dancing Shadows spreads
Upon the Roofs. Now mad with Grief, alone,
Thus to His Sacred Rage He makes his Moan.
If He, at first, Our Enemy had been,
The Names of Trebia, and of Thrasimen
Had ne're been known. Nor had they given to Us
New Titles, nor had stain'd Erydanus,
Troubled with bloody Waves, the frighted Sea.
But he, while we are tyr'd with his Delay,
And he contains himself, hath found a new
Strange Way to Victory. How oft, in Shew
Of meeting Us, hath he Our Plots o'rethrown,
With Judgement, and Our Stratagems undone?
Thus to Himself; when the Shrill Trumpets Sound,
Midnight Proclaim'd: but when the third watch, round

188

The Camp, new Centinels had call'd to stand,
He turns his Course, and leaving Daunus Land
Behind, to the Campanian Coasts his Way
He takes, well known, as greedy after Prey.
Here, when he entred the Falernian Fields,
(That Land is Rich, and constant Profit yields
To the laborious Swains) he straitway throws
His Hostile Flames, among the fruitfull Boughs.
But here, Lyæus, though great Actions be
Our Theme, the Mention of Thine Honour We
Must not pass by in Silence: but Record
Thy Praise, who dost that Sacred Juice afford;
Whose Vines, with Nectar swell'd, a Nobler Name,
Then the Falernian Press, can never claim.

Falernus old, in better Times, did Plow
The Massick Hills (they then no Swords did know)
The Vine-Leavs then, within the naked Field,
Did not, with swelling Grapes, green Shadows yield:
Nor knew they how to mix Lyæus Blood
Among their Cups; but in some Chrystal Flood,
Or Spring, their Thirst allai'd. An happy Hour
Thither Lyæus, going to the Shore
Of Calpe, and the Bounds of Day, a Guest
Did bring. Nor did the Deity detest
A low, poor Cottage; but he enters, and
The smoaky Room, and Table, that did stand
Before the Chimney (as the Custom was
Of that poor Age, receive him. But, Alass,
The Host, whosechearfull Looks his Joy exprest
Did not perceive a God was then his Guest;
And yet, as his Fore-Fathers us'd to do,
Spar'd not his Age, from running to, and fro;
Most kindly busie: till his choicest Chear
He brought: there Cornels in neat Baskets; here

189

Fresh, from his watry Hort-yards, Juicy Fruits
Serv'd in: then Hony-Combs, and Milk he puts,
As Dainties, 'mong the rest; and, all the while,
Nothing of Blood the Table doth defile:
But, Ceres Gifts brought in, he doth compose
The Fire, into the midst whereof he throws,
His Sacrifice. Pleas'd with the Old Man's Care,
The God resolv'd, his Liquour should be there;
When suddenly ('t is very strange to tell)
The Cups of Beech with Wine begin to swell,
As the Reward of his poor Entertain.
The Milk-Pail too with Blushing Wine began
To overflow: and from an hollow Oak,
Into a Goblet, the sweet Liquour broke
From the well-sented Grapes: Here, take, and store
Thy self (Lyæus said) with what before
Thou did'st not know: but which Falernus Name,
For Nobler Vines, hereafter shall proclaim.
With that the God himself reveal'd, and round,
With Purple Raies, and Ivy Garland Crown'd
His shining Front, about his Neck he flung;
His Locks, in his Right Hand a Tankard hung,
And, fallen from his Thyrsus, Vines about
The Table, with Nisæan Branches, sprout.
Nor could Falernus with the pleasant Tast
Contend, when some few Cups about had past.
Now with his Foot, or stamm'ring Tongue, he makes
The God to laugh, while the strong Liquour shakes
His Brains, and he endeavours to make good
Return of Thanks, in Words scarce understood,
Till Sleep (which Bacchus still accompanies,
Wheree're he goes) compos'd his struggling Eyes.
But, when the rising Sun dispers'd the Dew,
The Massick Swains, with Admiration, view

190

Their fields with vines, like groves, most richly crown'd,
And, with the Sun, the Branches shining, round
The Hill, their Glory spread, and since that hour
Rich Tmolus, and Arvisian Cups, that pour
Ambrosian Liquour forth, and thy fam'd Field,
Fertile Methymna, to Falernus yield.

Through this, the Libyan (like a Fury) past
And all the Countrey round about, lai'd wast:
Incited by His Men, whose Swords pursu'd
Their thirst of Blood. While Fabius doth delude
Their General: And now a mad Desire
Of fighting, the Ausonian Camp doth fire;
All covet, in that Madness to descend
Into the Plain. My Muse, let us commend
The Man, whom Fate permitted to subdue
Both Armies, and their Fury overthrew.
If Me the Senate had believ'd to be
Of such hot Temper, and so Rash (said he)
Or that such Clamours, easily, my Minde
Could shake, they had not, when the State declin'd,
Giv'n me the Conduct of this desp'rate War.
My Resolutions of a Battel are
Already fix'd, it shall my Conquest be
To keep you safe (that urge so eagerly
Your Fate) against your Will: none of you all
By Fabius shall have Liberty to fall.
If weary of the Light, you now desire,
That the Ausonian Name with you Expire:
Or if it grieves you, that, at such a time,
No Place is rendred Famous, by the Crime
Of some new Mischief, or notorious Blow:
Recall Flaminius from the Shades below,
A Signal, by his late Temerity,
And Auspicies you have. Do ye not see

191

A Precipice, and your approaching Fate?
Consider; to the Ruin of the State,
One Victorie's enough for Hannibal.
Stay then, and understand your General;
When the wish'd Time shall come, that may require
Your Hands, then let those furious Words conspire
With Deeds; beleive Me, 'tis an easie thing
To go to fight: should we now open fling
Our Ports, one Hour, you all into the Field
May pour: but they, to whom the Gods shall yield
A kinde, and mild Aspect, as forth they go,
Shall have that Bliss alone to scape the Fo,
And safe return. The Libyan relyes
Upon His Fortune, and His Vessel flies
With a propitious Wind, and, till that Gale
Shall slack, and cease to fill his swelling Sail,
It must of Business be, and constant Care
To seek Delaies. Fortune's Imbraces are
Perpetual to none; see! how much less
The Tyrian Forces are: how they decrease
In Fame, since We declin'd the Fight. And We,
'Mong other things, for this may praised be
That they, who—But it is better far, that I
Forbear more Words: You now the Enemy.
A Battel, and Pitcht-field require. Oh! may
This Confidence be such another Day,
Ye Gods! In the mean time, excluding all
Chances of greater Dangers, that may fall
Upon you, and My Countrey, pray let Me,
To the whole War, alone opposed be;

These Words their furious Arms, and Rage appease
As when his calmer Brow the God of Seas
Lifts 'bove the troubled Waves, and views the Main,
As Lord, and is by it beheld again:

192

The raging Winds their cruel Murmurs cease,
Nor move the Wings upon their Foreheads: Peace
Is soon diffus'd o're all the calmed Brine,
And, on the silent Shore, smooth Waters shine.
This by the Libyan's subtile Care descry'd,
Strait by the Poison of his Plots, he try'd
Their Minds. For Fabius, as his Father's Heir,
Plow'd a few Acres, which the Name did bear
Of Massicus, Renown'd for Gen'rous Vines:
These, to advance his mischeivous Designs
(Which, through the Camp, ambiguous Rumours spread)
From Fire, and Sword his spar'd: this Plot soon bred
Suspicion of the Quiet of that Place,
As if that He did privately imbrace
A League to lengthen out the War. But all
The cunning Stratagems of Hannibal
The wise Dictatour saw, and understood.
But among Swords, and Trumpets, thought it good
To scorn their Envy: nor, the Wounds to shun
Of Fame, the Hazard of a Fight to run.
Till wandring up, and down, and oft in vain,
Moving his Camp, now here, now there, to gain
Occasion to fight, the Libyan He
Enclos'd, where Woods, and rocky Hills we see,
With his divided Troops. Here Him behind
The lofty Læstrigonian Rooks confin'd:
There, with its Moorish Grounds, Linternum was.
No use of Souldiers, or of Swords the place
Affords; but there, severest Famine all
The Plagues, that lost Sagunthus did befall,
Exacting, them oppress'd, and Fate an End
Seem'd to the Arms of Carthage to intend.

Now Sleep, all Things by Sea, and Land, did hide
With's gloomy Wings, and having lai'd aside

193

The Labours of the Day, the pleasing Rest,
Granted to men by Night, the World possest.
But the Sidonian General the Cares,
That then enflam'd His Heart, and watchfull Fears,
Rob'd of the Benefits of Night; while He
Left His unquiet Bed, and suddenly
Cov'ring his Shoulder with a Lyon's Skin,
That lately spread upon the Grass had been,
His Pallat, in the Field, to's Brother's Tent,
(From's Own not distant far) directly went.
He, not degenerate in Martial Rites,
On a Bull's Hide then slept, and, by the Night's
Great Blessing, eas'd His pensive Thoughts, and near
Fix'd in the Earth, upright, his Fatal Spear,
On which His Helmet hung: upon the Ground
His Breast-plate, Sword, and Shield, about it round,
His Bow, and Balearick Sling. Not far
From these a Youthfull Troop, all try'd in War,
Lay sleeping on the Earth, and near at Hand
His Horse, caparison'd, doth grazing stand.
His Entrance Mago wakes. Brother, (said He)
(With that takes up his Arms) What is't, that Thee
Thus stupifies? Then Mago rose, and all
His Troop, then lying on the Ground, doth call
With Speed to Arms. Then Hannibal began;
Us Fabius, that so vigilant Old Man,
The sole Delay to Our Propitious Fates,
Thus indispos'd by Night, exasperates
To Cares. You see how We encompass'd are
With armed Bands, and how the Souldier,
Collected in a Ring, doth Us invest,
But now (since Our Affairs are thus distrest)
Consider My Design. We have within
The Camp an Herd of Oxen, that have been

194

Plunder'd from all the Countrey round, and now
(As Custom is) march with the Army: to
The Horns, and Fronts of some of these, will I
Give a Command dry Twigs, and Sticks to ty;
Which fir'd, when once the Heat shall scatter'd be,
The Oxen, sensible of Pain, will flee,
And on their Necks the wandring Flames will bear
O're all the Hill: then, seiz'd with sudden Fear,
Their Centinels will from their Stations runs
And fear, that something more by Night is done.
If this you like, (Extream Resolves delay
Refuse) Let's do't said; He. With that away
They go to other Tents, where in the Field,
Upon the Ground, his Head upon his Shield,
'Mong Horses, Men, and Spoils, that by his Hand
In Fight were taken, and with Slaughter stain'd,
Mighty Maraxes lay, and in his Sleep,
A dreadfull Cry, as if engaged deep
In Fight, by Chance then gave, and felt about
With's trembling Hand to finde his Weapons out,
And his try'd Sword. Thus warring, Mago shakes
The Man; and, with his Spear inverted, wakes:
Captain, since now 'tis dark, thy Fury lay
Aside, reserve thy Valour for the Day;
With Policy we now must use the Night
For safe Retreat, and to conceal our Flight:
Into the Woods my Brother doth intend
With kindled Boughs ty'd to the Horns, to send
The Oxen, where the Passes guarded be
By Hostile Bands, and so our Army free.
Let us be gone, and this Design shall be
A Document to Fabius, that we
With Policy contend. He makes no Stay,
But, joy'd at what He spoke, they haste away

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To stout Acherra's Tent; who, satisfi'd
With little Rest, or Ease, had never try'd
His Sleep to lengthen with the Night; but still
On Horse-back, as perpetual Centinel,
Serv'd, and was wont to ease his weary Steed,
By dressing him, and alwaies Bridled feed.

Now all their Weapons whet, and the dry'd Gore
Wipe from the Steel, and to their Swords restore
Their Sharpness: what the Fortune of the Place,
And Time requir'd, and what their Duty was
Declar'd; advising, that whoe're did go
As Chief in the Design, might not be Slow.
Then through the Camp the Word, and Orders, run,
All mutually instruct what's to be done;
And importune, they may no longer stay:
Their Fears inciting all to haste away,
While yet the dark, and silent Night might hide
Their Flight. Then, to the Boughs the Fire apply'd,
From their large Horns the Flames aspiring rose.
The Mischief, in an Instant, greater grows,
And th'Oxen, shaking their tormented Heads,
Fan out a Pyramis of Fire that spreads
It's Basis largely, and o'recomes the Smoak.
The Beasts, affrighted, through the Forest broke;
Then o're the Hills, and, Rocky Mountains fly,
As they were mad, and as their Nostrils by
The Flames besieged are, they labour oft
In vain to bellow, while o're Cliffs, aloft,
Through Vallies Vulcan wanders, and ne're stands
At all; but, shining on the Neighb'ring Sands,
As manifold appears, as when at Sea
In a clear Night the Mariners survey
Innumerable Stars: Or when upon
Garganus Top, a Shepheard, sitting down,

196

Beneath him sees Calabrian Forrests burn,
Which Husbandmen to fertile Pastures turn;
O're all the Hills the Flames with such a Face
Appear to fly; and they, whose Chance it was
To be the Guard, believ'd they Wandring fled,
None scatt'ring them, and that they, Furious, fed
Within the Hills: some thought, that Jove had thrown,
From his incensed Hand, his Thunder down:
Others, that kindled Sulphur gave them Birth,
And, from her secret Caves, th'unhappy Earth,
Condemn'd to greater Ruins, threw the Fire.
The Rutuli, affrighted, strait retire,
And from their Station fly. Then Hannibal,
With speedy Arms, possess'd Himself of all
The Passes; and, advantag'd by their Fears,
Insulting in the open Field, appears.

Yet vigilant, in Conduct of the War,
The wise Dictatour had advanc'd as far,
As Trebia, and behind him left the Sea
Of Tuscany; that it enough might be
For Hannibal, the Romane Arms to shun,
And Fabius: who after him had gone,
And with his Army close pursu'd his Flight,
But that some Sacred Rites did him invite
To his Paternal Gods. Then as to Rome
He took his Way, a valiant Youth, to whom
The chief Command, and Conduct of the War
Was giv'n, He thus with Counsel doth prepare.
If by the Fortune of my Actions, Thou
(Minutius) hast not yet Learn'd to allow
Things warily perform'd, nor Words can Thee
Lead to true Honour, or invite to flee
Unworthy things: Thou hast seen Hannibal
Besieg'd. 'Twas not the Souldier, nor all

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Our Wings, nor our throng'd Legions, (I Thee
Attest) perform'd it; but 'twas done by Me.
I, from the Camp, will not be long away,
Onely permit, that to the Gods I pay
A solemn Sacrifice, and Him again
Shut up by Floods, or Hills (if you refrain
From fighting,) will I give into your Hands.
In the mean time believe Me (for it stands
With my Experience) in distress'd Affairs
'Tis Safety to sit still, though it appears
Honour to many (and may please them too,
As the most glorious Conquest, to subdue
An Enemy by fighting,) yet to Me
To keep You safe, it shall a Triumph be.
I a full Camp leave in thy Hands, and Men
Free from all Wounds: to give them such agen
To Me, thy Glory, and Renown shall be.
The Libyan Lyon Thou, perhaps, shalt see
These Works assaulting. Sometimes off'ring Prey
T'entice Thee out: sometimes to flee away,
As if He fear'd thine Arms; but all the while
He thinks on Fraud, and doth with Fury boil.
'Tis His Desire to fight; but let Thy Stay
Within the Camp take all those Hopes away.
Let this Advice suffice: but if Thy Minde,
And Courage, my Entreaty cannot binde:
I, as Dictatour, by a pious Right,
And strict Command, conjure Thee not to fight.
The Camp, by his Advice, thus fortified
He, Pious, left; and to the City hied.

But, now, behold! with prosp'rous Winds before
The Læstrigonian, and Cajetan Shore
A Libyan Navy plows the Sea, and comes
Into the Port, and all the Ocean foams

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With num'rous Oars: when, from their chrystal Caves,
Affrighted with the Noise, above the Waves,
The Sea-Nymphs rise, and see the Shore possess'd
By Hostile Ships, that then disturb'd their Rest:
Then, full of Fear, with Speed, they all repair,
To those known Coasts, by them frequented, where
Teleboæ's Kingdoms 'midst the Ocean rise,
And hollow Thrones, where mighty Proteus lyes
Within a broken Cave, and largely laves
The adverse Rocks (a Prophet) with his Waves.
He (for he all things knew, and what they fear'd)
When chang'd in various Shapes he had appear'd,
And scar'd them, hissing like a dreadfull Snake,
Then roaring like a Lyon fierce, thus spake.

What is it, Nymphs, that brings you hither? tell;
Why doth that Paleness in your Faces dwell?
Why seek ye, what hereafter shall befall
To know? To this the Eldest, then, of all
The Italian Nymphs, Cymodoce, replies.
Thou know'st, already, whence our Fears arise.
What doth this Carthaginian Fleet, that thus
Deprives us of our Coast, portend to us?
Must the Rhætean Empire cross the Seas
To other Gods? Or, Tyrian Seamen these
Our Ports possess? Or, from our Native Seat
Exil'd, must we to Atlas now retreat;
And dwell in Calpe's farthest Caves? Then he,
Rehearsing things long past, ambiguously,
Thus undertakes to shew ensuing Fate.

On Ida, when the Phrygian Heards-man sate,
And, calling back his stragling Bulls to feed
In fertile Meadows, with his Pipe of Reed,
The fam'd Dispute of Sacred Beauty heard:
Then Cupid, who solicitous appear'd

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T'observe the Time, the Snow-white Cygnets, joyn'd,
To's Mother's Chariot, drove: a Quiver shin'd
Upon his Shoulder, and a golden Bow,
And, with a nod to let his Mother know
There was no cause to fear, shew'd he had brought
That Quiver to her Aid, with Arrows fraught.
Some of his Brothers comb her Golden Hair
Upon her Jv'ry Fore-head; others are
Imploy'd. Her flowing Garments to compose
When sighing from her Lips, that like a Rose
Blush'd, to her Sons this Language fell. You see
The Day, that must a faithfull Witness be
Of your great Piety to Me. Oh! who
Would e're have this believ'd, so long as you
Are safe, that Venus Beauty, and her Face
Should question'd be? (For now what other Grace
Remains to us?) if my Artillery,
Infected with most pleasing Poison, I
To You committed have, by which you aw
Your Grand-sire at your Pleasure (who gives Law
To Heav'n, and Earth) then by my Victory
O're Juno, and Minerva, let me see
Cyprus with Idumæan Palms abound,
And Paphos with an hundred Altars Crown'd.
While to her winged Boys thus Venus talks,
A gentle Eccho, as the Goddess walks,
Runs through the Grove: and then the warlike Maid
Her Ægis lai'd aside, her Hair displai'd,
(That lately by her Helmet had been press'd)
In Curls with Art, and neatly Comb'd, and dress'd
And, Peace enthron'd in her Serener Eys,
With Speed unto the Place appointed hies.
Saturnia enters on the other side,
After her Brother's Bed, resolving Ide

200

The Trojan's Judgment, and Disdain to bear.
Last, Cytherea, smiling, doth appear,
And through the Grove, and Caves, within the Rocks
Sheds fragrant Odours from her Sacred Locks.
Nor could the Judge endure to keep his Place:
But, dazzled by the Beauty of her Face,
Fear'd onely, lest he should appear to her
To doubt. The vanquish'd Goddesses transfer
Fierce Wars beyond the Seas, and Troy was soon,
With her unhappy Judge, quite overthrown.
Pious Æneas then by Sea, and Land
Toss'd up, and down, in Latium takes his Stand,
With his Dardanian Gods: while Whales within
The Ocean shall swim, and Stars shall shine
In Heaven, and Phœbus from the Indian Main
Shall rise, so long his Progeny shall reign.
No Bounds of Time their Rule shall terminate:
But you, my Daughters, while the Thread of Fate
Doth run, the Dang'rous Sands of Sasson flee.
We Aufidus, swell'd high with Blood, shall see
Driving his purple Waves into the Main:
And you, Ætolian Shades, shall, once again,
Fight with the Teucri, in that Field, so long
Ago condemn'd by an Immortal Song.
Then Punick Darts the Romane Walls shall shake,
And Hasdrubal Metaurus Flood shall make
To shine with Slaughter. And then He, that was
So secretly begot, by Jove's Imbrace,
With a severe Revenge shall expiate,
At once his Uncle's, and His Father's Fate,
Then shall he fill with Flames Eliza's Shore,
And force the Libyan, tormenting sore
The Bowels of Italy, to hasten Home,
And Him in His own Countrey overcome.

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Carthage in Arms shall yield to Him, and He
Shall from the Name of Africk Famous be.
From Him another shall arise, by whom
The third fierce War shall be subdu'd, and Rome
See him Triumphant, after Byrsa's Fall,
Bring Libya's Ashes to the Capitol.

While He the Secrets of the Gods detects;
Thus in his Cave, Minutius rejects
Both Fabius, and his Counsel, and, with Rage
Possess'd, the Fo endeavours to engage:
Nor was the Libyan wanting to foment,
And feed his Fury. But, with an Intent
T'entice him, to embrace a greater Fight,
With little Loss, sometimes dissembles Flight.
As when the Fish, allur'd by scatter'd Baits
In some clear Brook, forsake their deep Retreats,
And swimming near the Water's Surface shine,
The cunning Angler, with his twisted Line,
Soon drags them to the Shore. Now Fame, which lies
Among the Romanes, like a Fury, flies.
Telling the Fo was turn'd, and Hannibal
In Flight his Safety found: an End of all
Their Miseries, did then at Hand appear,
If they to Overcome permitted were.
But, that their Valour had no other Guid,
The one, that did sad Punishments provide
For such, as were victorious 'gainst his Will.
That He within the Camp would shut them still,
And give Command to sheath their Swords again,
That so he might a just Account maintain
In Arms, and Souldiers give a Reason, why
They dare to overcome the Enemy.
The Vulgar murmure thus: and Juno sires
The Senate's Minds with Envy, and Desires

202

Of Popular Air. Then, madly, they decree
Things not to be believ'd, and such as be
The Wish of Hannibal: such, as they soon,
With too great Danger, wish they ne're had done.
For now the Army is divided, and
Minutius shares with Fabius in Command.
The old Dictatour, free from Passion, saw,
And fear'd the Ills, that rash Resolv might draw
Upon his Countrey: therefore, full of Care,
And Pensive, to the Camp return'd, and there
Sharing his Social Forces, all the Hills,
Adjoyning, with his Neighb'ring Eagles fills;
And there, at once, observes the Libyan's Power,
And Romane Army, from a lofty Tower.
While Mad to perish, or destroy his Foes
With sudden Fury rash Minutius throws
The Ramparts down: and when, on either Side,
Here the Dictatour, there the Libyan spy'd
Him marching forth; their Minds with diff'rent Care,
This to destroy, that to preserve him, are
Inflam'd. But He to Arm with Speed commands;
And leads, from all Defence, his hasty Bands.
The Libyan Captain pours into the Fight
His Forces all, and thus doth them incite:
While the Dictatour (Souldiers) is away,
Go on, and bravely use this fighting Day
Behold! the Gods now to your Wishes yield,
Off'ring a Battel in an open Field.
And, since this Opportunity is gain'd,
Your Weapons cleanse, that have so long been stain'd
With Rust, and satisfie your Swords with Blood.
This Fabius observing, as he stood
Viewing the Champagn Ground, (And Thou, Alass!
Oh Rome! did'st sadly Learn what Fabius was

203

In so great Danger) this rash Boy (said he)
Now my Colleague in Arms, shall punish'd be,
As he deserves, that through so blind, and mad
A Vote, with so much Danger, durst invade
Our Fasces. Peevish Tribes! how slipp'ry are
Your Pulpits, see? with what vain men the Bar,
And Forum's throng'd! Now let the Offices
Of War by them be equall'd, and Decrees
Ordain the Sun to yield unto the Night.
Their Weakness, the rash Errour of this Fight
Shall quickly rue, and all the Wrongs, which they,
Upon our common Parent, bring this Day.
With that he shook his Spear, and, as a Flood
Of Tears gush'd from his Eyes, with Tyrian Blood
(Said he) my Son, these sad Complaints must be
Suppress'd by Thee. Shall I endure to see
A Citizen destroy'd before my Face,
And these our Troops? Or, while I am in place,
Permit the Libyan conquer? If my Heart
Were such, they'd seem less Guilty, that did part,
And equal us: but this, my Son, believe,
And from thy aged Sire, as Truth, receive;
To be incens'd, against our Countrey, is
A Sin so great, that none, to the Abyss
Of Hell, can with a fowler Crime descend.
This our Fore-Fathers did to us commend;
And thus how good, how great, exil'd from home,
And banish'd long, did'st thou (Camillus) come
Into the Capitol! How many there
By thy condemned Hand then slaughter'd were!
Had not thy Thoughts been calm, or had thy Minde
At all, to Anger, or Revenge, inclin'd
Æneas Throne had chang'd its Place, and thou
Great Rome hadst not, upon thy Hills, as now

204

Stood Head of all the World. Therefore, my Son,
Let all Displeasure, for my Sake, be gone;
Let's hast to aid them with our Social Arms.
With that, the Trumpet's intermix'd Alarms
Sound through the Camp; and all with such a Force
Rush on, they bruise each other in their Course.
First, the Dictatour all Things, that withstand
His Speed, the Gates, and Bars, with his own Hand
O'returns, and to the Battel breaks his Way.
With such a Fury Winds contend at Sea,
When Boreas sally's from th'Odrysian Coast,
And, with like Rage, by Africus is crost:
The Sea's distracted, and to sev'ral Shores
Each drives the Billows; while the Tempest roars,
And the whole Ocean, wheresoe're it goes,
Obeys now here, now there, with furious Throws.
So much of Honour could not rise from all
Phœnicia subdu'd, or Byrsa's Fall;
As this great Injury, which first did spring
From private Envy, did of Glory bring
To the Dictatour. For, by's Conduct there,
At once, He all those Difficulties, Fear,
Envy, and Passion, with malicious Fame,
And Hannibal, and Fortune, overcame.

When Hannibal perceiv'd them run amain,
Down from the lofty Camp, into the Plain,
His Courage trembled; and, with Sighs, soon all
His former Hopes of their Destruction fall.
For He the Romanes had encompass'd round,
With num'rous Bands; not doubting to confound
Them, so enclos'd, by Darts, that on them fall
On ev'ry side. And, then, their General
Already, griev'd for that unhappy Fight,
The Stygian Waters, and eternal Night,

205

Had entred in his Thoughts, with sad Despair:
Asham'd to hope, that Fabius would be there
To his Assistance. But two valiant Wings,
Circling the Battel, the Dictatour brings
To His Relief, and then, encompassing
The Libyan Army with a larger Ring,
Their utmost Troops behinde invests; and those,
That late besieg'd the Romanes, doth enclose.
Alcides made him Higher rise in Fight,
And to appear much Greater to their Sight:
His lofty Crest, ('t was strange) ejecting Rays,
In active Vigour soon it self displaies
Through all his Members; while He Jav'lins throws,
And storms, with Clouds of wounding Darts, his Foes.
(Such, before he was Old, in Prime of all
His years, in War the Pylian General
Appear'd.) Then, rushing on, he Turis sent
To Hell, and stout Malêo, confident
To Cope with any; who was known to Fame,
And by his Spear had gain'd himself a Name.
Then Butes, Maris, Arses, Garadus,
Long-hair'd Adherbes, and conspicuous
For Height, 'bove both the Armies, Tylis dies;
Who, on the highest Fortress, could surprize
The Battlements. These, at a Distance, all,
With Darts; but Saph'arus, and Monesus, fall
By's Sword: with them, Morînus, as he sounds
To Fight with his shrill Brass, he deadly wounds
On the Right Cheek; and, by the dying Blast
Expell'd, the Blood quite through the Trumpet past,
From's wounded Jaws, Idmon, the next to him;
Who, us'd o're Nasamonian Sands to swim,
Dy'd by his Lance: for slipping, where he stood,
Upon a Place, o'reflown with reaking Blood,

206

Endeav'ring to recover's Feet again,
And shun that slipp'ry Place, Fabius, amain,
Upon him spurs his Horse, and to the Ground
Nails him with's Spear; which, left within the Wound,
Though trembling with his Motion, firmely held
His Carcass down, and fix'd it to the Field.
Honour's Example likewise fires the Minde
Of Sylla, Crassus, and Metellus, joyn'd
With Fannius, and Torquatus, strong in Fight
Above the rest: all these, in Fabius Sight,
Engage amid'st their Foes. But here, in hast
Retiring to avoid a Stone was cast
Against him, Bibulus, unhappy, on
An Heap of slaughter'd Friends fell backward down,
And where his Brigandine was gaping wide,
Unhasp'd by frequent Blows, quite through his Side
A Weapon's point, that in a Body stuck
By Chance, upright into his Bowels struck.
Sad Fate! hee'd 'scap'd Marmarick Troops, and all
The Garamantian Darts, that he might fall
By a neglected Lance, that was not thrown,
With an intent to wound him. Breathless down
He tumbled, horrid Paleness strait involv'd
His youthfull beauteous Face, and Life dissolv'd,
Through all his Limbs; his Arms hang loose, and Sleep,
With Stygian Darkness, through his Eys doth creep.
From Tyrian Sydon, sprang of Cadmus Race,
Excited by his Nephews, Cleadas
Came to the War, and, proud of the Command,
Among his Aids, a brave Eöan Band
Of Archers led: rich Gems all over deck
His golden Cask, and Chains about his Neck:
Such, when late wash'd, and from the Ocean rais'd
The Usher of the Morn, by Venus prais'd,

207

Contends with other Stars. In Purple He,
His Horse in Purple, all his Company
In Tyrian Purple shin'd. He, as he wheel'd
His Steed to th'Right, and Left, about the Field,
Deluding Brutus, eager of the Fight,
That, by his Hand, a Name so famous might
Extinguish'd be, an Arrow, Parthian-like,
Backward lets flie, nor doth it vainly strike;
But in his Armour-Bearer Casca's Chin
It sticks, and, penetrating deeply in,
The Point, obliquely wounding, upward struck
To his moist Pallet, and within it stuck.
But Brutus troubled at his Friend's sad Fate,
Him, that so oft, did thus disseminate,
In seeming Flight, his cruel Shafts, no more
Sought with his nimble Courser, as before,
To overtake: but, his whole Fury to
His Lance committing, the swift Weapon threw
From the loose Thong, and where the Chains devest,
Loosen'd by running to, and fro, his Breast,
Into the upper Part, a deadly Wound
The fixed Cornel gave: down to the Ground
He dying sinks, and in his Fall lets go,
From his right Hand the Shaft, his Left the Bow.
But, with a better Fate, Charmelus (who
Soracte's Honour was) did then pursue
The Fight; for he his Sword with Blood had stain'd
Of Bragad, who o're Juba's People reign'd:
Zeusis (who of Spartan Phalanthus Race;
A Race implacable, derived was,
And whom his Mother, a Phœnician, bare
T'a fam'd Laconian) by him likewise there
Was slain. But Nampsicus, not daring to
Appear in Fight, before so fierce a Fo,

208

Nor yet, as Fear perswaded, thence to fly,
Crep'd through the Bushes to an Oak, that nigh
Did stand, and climbing to the Top, among
The shady Leavs conceal'd himself, and hung
Upon the Boughs, that trembled with his Weight,
Him begging, earnestly, to shun his Fate,
And leaping, fearfull, oft from Bough to Bough,
Furious Carmelus with a Pike quite through
The Body pierc'd (the Fowler so in Groves
His Lime-Twigs lai'd, when as his Mark removes
In silence strives, on tallest Trees with Aim
To strike, with his encreasing Shaft, his Game)
His Life, and Blood gush out, and, as it flows,
The pallid Corps hangs on the bending Boughs.

The Romanes, now the Tyrians put to Flight,
Closely pursue. When of stupendous Height
Upon a sudden, a most dreadfull Moor
Breaks forth, his Limbs black as the Arms he wore.
Their lofty Mains his sooty Horses rear,
And all his Chariot, with new Arts, that Fear
Might move, adorn'd, like to their Backs appears.
Like Plumes upon his Crest, like Robes he wears:
As when of old, to his Infernal Bed
The dreadfull King of Night eternal, fled,
And, in his Stygian Chariot, bore away
From Ætna's Fields, ravish'd Proserpina.
But Cato, then a Youth, and the Renown
Of the high Walls of that Circéan Town
Where fam'd Laertes Nephew did command:
Although he saw the Latines make a stand,
All troubled in the Front, undaunted, He
Spurs on his starting Steed, that sought to flee
His Way, affrighted at the Stygian Shade.
With that, he quits his Back, and doth invade

209

On foot, the Chariot, and the flying Moor,
Behinde: when strait his Sword, that trembled o're
His Neck, his Whip, and Reins, together fall,
And, suddenly, an horrid Paleness all
His Limbs, through loss of Blood, doth overspread;
When Cato, with his Sword, lops off his Head,
And bears it, as a Trophy, on his Lance.

But, now, the fierce Dictatour doth advance,
And, through a Globe with Slaughter breaking, where
(A wofull Sight!) the Gen'ral did appear,
Sinking through many Wounds, and loss of Blood,
And poorly begging Quarter; with a Flood
Of Tears, lamenting to behold him so,
Protects him, with his Target, from the Fo:
And, calling to his Son; My valiant Boy
(Said He) now let thy Valour wipe away
This Stain: let us to Hannibal return,
(For his great Kindness, that he did not burn,
And wast our Fields) a due, and just Reward.

The Youth, with these Encouragements he heard,
And's Father's Arts rejoyc'd, the Troops, that round
The Libyan stood, constrain'd to quit their Ground
With's Conqu'ring Sword, and clear'd the Field again;
While Hannibal was forc'd to quit the Plain.
As when a greedy Wolf, with Hunger prest,
The Shepheard stept aside, or taking Rest,
Hath seiz'd a Lamb, and holds it, Trembling, fast
Between his Jaws: if then the Shepheard haste,
Hearing it bleat, to meet him in the Way;
The Wolf, now fearfull for himself, his Prey,
Panting between his Teeth, lets fall again,
And hungry to the Woods retreats amain.

At length the Stygian Darkness, that was spread
O're all the Earth, by a rude Tempest, fled.

210

Their Hands were weary, and they all confess
They did not merit Safety; with Excess
Of sudden Joys their Minds distracted were:
Like such, that by some sudden Ruins are
Oppress'd, when they are freed again, and Night
Retires, then wink, and fear to see the Light.
This done, his Army number'd in the Plain,
To's Camp upon the Hills, with Joy, again
The old Dictatour, makes a safe Retreat:
And then, as rescu'd from the Hand of Fate,
The Youth, loud Shouts raise to the Stars, and all
T'express their Joy with Emulation, call
Fabius their Safety, Fabius their Renown,
Fabius their common Father, and the Crown
Of all their Hopes. Then he, that lately shar'd
His Troops, to thank them with this Speech repair'd.

Most Pious Father, if it lawfull be
That we complain, to Life restor'd by Thee,
Oh why didst Thou permit us to divide
Our Camp, and Forces? Why didst thou abide
So patient, so calm, those Arms to yield
To us, which thou alone art fit to weild?
Sinking beneath that Charge with loss of Blood,
We near the Shades Eternal lately stood.
Hither your Eagles, hither quickly bear
Your rescu'd Ensigns; Here's our Countrey, here
In this one Breast the Citie's Walls abide!
And thou, Oh Hannibal, now, lay aside
Thy Frauds, and known Deceits, the War with Thee
By Fabius alone must manag'd be.

This said, when strait (a Reverend Sight it was)
A thousand Altars rise, of Turfs of Grass
Compos'd, and none or Meat, or Wine essai'd
To touch, before Devoutly they had pray'd,
And on the Sacred Table, to the wise
Dictatour's Honour, paid a Sacrifice.

The End of the Seventh Book.

211

The Eighth Book.

The Argument.

By Juno sent, to ease His present Cares,
The Goddess Anne, to Hannibal repairs:
By whose Advice, to Cannæ He removes.
Elected by the People, Varro proves
A Fatal Consul, the Delaies upbraids
Of Fabius: A List of all the Aids,
That with the Romanes joyn. The Army goes
To Cannæ: Fabius Counsel's to oppose
Rash Varro. What sad Prodigies foreshow
In Heaven, and Earth, the Romanes Overthrow.

Now Fabius, the first, that made them see
The flying Backs of Cadmus Progeny,
Was by the Romane Camp, and Souldiers all,
Their common Parent stil'd: by Hannibal,
His onely Fo. Impatient of Delay,
The Libyan raves. For that, to have a Day
Of Battel, the Dictatour's Death must be
Expected, and the Aid of Destiny
Was to be Wish'd: for while in Arms he stood,
While Fabius liv'd, to hope for Trojan Blood,
Was vain. For now the Souldiers brought again
Their Eagles, and, united, all remain

212

Under his sole Command. With him alone
He must again contend: and what upon
His Thoughts lay heaviest, was, that, by Delay,
He took the Fury of the War away;
And, by his Art of sitting still, had made
The Plenty of the Tyrian Army fade.
And, though an End, by Fighting, could not be
Obtain'd, or Battel, he his Enemy
Had by his Conduct lately overcome.
Besides, the boasting Celtæ towards Home
Began to look: a People of a light,
Unconstant Minde: Fierce, at the first, in Fight;
But, if withstood, soon quell'd. They griev'd to see
A War should be maintain'd, from Slaughter free:
(A thing to them unknown) and while they stood
In Arms, their Hands were stiff, and dry from Blood.
To add to this, an inward Grief, and Wound
Of civil Envy, did his Thoughts confound;
For Hanno, thwarting all he did intend
At Home, would not permit the Senate send,
To his Assistance, any Aids at all.

Torn with these Cares, and fearing now the Fall
Of his Affairs; Juno, who knew the Fate
Of Cannæ, and with future things elate,
Him with fresh Hopes of Arms, and War inspires,
And fills his Thoughts, again, with mad Desires.
For Anna, call'd from the Laurentine Lakes,
In this mild Language her Instructions takes.

There is a Youth, in Blood ally'd to Thee,
Call'd Hannibal, and from our Belus he
His Noble Name derives: make Haste away,
And the rude Surges of his Cares allay;
Shake Fabius from his Thoughts, who is alone
The Stop, that Italie's not overthrown.

213

Fabius is now dismiss'd, with Varro he
Hereafter must contend; the War must be
With Varro wag'd. Let him not wanting prove
To Fate, but quickly all his Ensigns move:
I will be present; let him haste away
To th'Iäpygian Plains: there Trebia,
And Thrasimonus Fates shall meet again.
Anna a Neighbour to the Gods, that reign
In those chast Woods, thus answers. It would be
Unjust in Me, should I delay (said She)
Your great Commands; but yet permit, I pray,
The Favours, to my antient Countrey, may
With Caution be retain'd; and that the Will,
And Charge, of my dear Sister I fulfill.

Though Anna be esteem'd Divine, among
The Latine Deities, yet Time with long
Ambages, turning, in Obscurity
Hath drown'd the Reason of Antiquity;
Why Temples the Ausonians should ordain
To Tyrian Pow'rs: Or why, where Trojans reign,
Eliza's Sister should be there ador'd.
But, keeping close to Time, I will record
What antient Fame reports; and, briefly, all
The Story tell, from its Original.

When Tyrian Dido, by her Trojan Guest,
Forsaken was, and all her Hopes supprest:
Within a secret Place, in Haste, with Cares,
And Love, distract, a Fun'ral Pyle she rears;
Then takes the Sword (that fatal Gift) that by
Her Husband fled was giv'n, resolv'd to dy:
When strait Hyarbas, whom before She had
Rejected, as a Lover, doth invade
Her Kingdom, and his Arms, Victorious (while
Her Ashes yet were warm) fix'd to the Pyle.

214

Who durst, while thus the Nomades fierce King
Prevail'd, to their Distress, Assistance bring?
Battus, by Chance, the Reins of Chief Command
Over Cyrene, with a gentle Hand
Then held: this Battus was by Nature Kind,
And Humane Chances easily inclin'd
With Tears, to pity, and, at first, when Anne
A Suppliant before Him came, began
The fickle State of Kings to apprehend,
And to relieve her, did his Hand extend.
Here She two Harvests pass'd, but could no more
Enjoy the Aid of Battus, and that Store
His Bounty did afford: for then a Fame
Was spread, Pygmalion to her Ruine came
By Sea. She therefore from that Kingdom flies,
And (as if hated by the Deities,
And no less hatefull to her self, that She
Her Sister's Death, did not accompany)
By fatal Tempests, on the Sea, was tost,
Till, with torn Sails, to the Laurentine Coast,
She driven was, and, sadly Ship-wrack'd, there
A Stranger to the People, Soil, and Air,
A fearfull Tyrian stood, on Latine ground.
When now behold Æneas, having crown'd
His Labours with a Kingdom, to the Place
By Chance, with young Iülus came: His Face
She quickly knew, and when he spy'd her there,
Her Eys fix'd on the Earth, and full of Fear,
Faln prostrate at Iülus Feet, whose Eys
O'reflow'd with Pity, helping her to rise,
To's House, he with a gentle Hand convey'd,
And when, with kind Reception, he'd allay'd
Her Fears of Danger, with a pensive Care,
Desir'd unhappy Dido's Fate to hear.

215

Then she, with Language fitted for the Time,
And Tears her Words protracting, thus to him
The Story told. Thou Goddess-born, alone,
Wert the true Cause, my Sister, both her Throne
And Life enjoy'd: her Death, and Fun'ral Fire
(Alass that I, in it, did not expire)
Can witness this: for when She could no more
Behold thy Face, sometimes upon the Shore
She sate, sometimes she stood, and, as her Eys
Pursu'd the Winds, with loud, and mournfull Cries
Æneas call'd, and onely begg'd, that she
Might in the Vessel bear thee Company.
Soon after, troubled in her Thoughts, again
She to her Marriage-Chamber runs amain,
Where, as she enters, she is seiz'd with such
A sudden Trembling, that she dares not touch
Her Nuptial Bed: then, mad with her Embrace,
The starry Image of Iülus Face
She hugs, then Thine; on which, at length, she dwells
With fixed Eys, and her sad Story tells
To Thee, and hopes an Answer to obtain.
But, when Love lai'd all Hopes aside, again
The House she quits, and flies unto the Shore,
Hoping the shifting Winds might Thee restore.
At length, fallacious Levity invites
Her, ev'n to Magick Arts, and the dire Rites
Of the Massilian Nation to descend.
But Oh! What wicked Errours do attend
Such Prophets! while they Stygian Pow'rs allure
From Hell, and promise to her Wounds a Cure.
What a sad Act did I, deceiv'd the while,
Behold! She throws upon the horrid Pyle
All Monuments, and fatal Gifts by Thee
On her bestow'd. With that thus lovingly

216

He interrupts her; By this Land I swear
(Which in my Wishes you did often hear)
By mild Iülus Head (to Her, and Thee
Once held so dear) I most unwillingly,
Oft looking back, and troubled in my Mind,
Your Kingdom left. Nor had I then declin'd
My Marriage-Bed, had I not threatned bin
By Mercury, who with his Hand Me in
The Cabine plac'd, and drove into the Sea,
With furious Winds, the flying Ship away.
But why (though all Advice is now too late)
Did you permit, at such a Time as that,
That She, without a Guard, in Love should be
So Furious? In broken Murmurs she
(Among her many Sighs) to this replies,
With trembling Lips. I then a Sacrifice
To Stygian Jove, and his Infernal Queen,
To try, if my poor Sister might have been
Eas'd in her Love-sick Mind, prepar'd, and to
The Altars, with all Diligence, I drew
The coal-black Lambs, with mine own Hand: for I,
The Night before, was fill'd with Horrour, by
A Dream: for thrice my Sister call'd on you
With a loud Voice, thrice on Sychæus; who,
Leaping for Joy, with a most chearfull Face
(I thought) appear'd. But, while I strove to chace
These Fancies from my Mind, and, as the Day
Began, that what I saw, might prosper, pray
The Gods; She, Frantick, runs unto the Shore,
And on the silent Sands, where you before
Had stood, her frequent Kisses fix'd, and prest
Your Foot-steps with a kind embracing Breast:
As Mothers, late deprived of their Sons,
Their Ashes hugg. From thence away she runs,

217

Like a rude Bacchinal) her Hair displai'd,
To that high Pile, which she before had made,
Of a vast Bulk, from whence she might explore
All Carthage-City, with the Seas, and Shore.
Then putting on the Phrygian Robe, and Chain,
Enrich'd with Gems, when she to Mind, again,
Had call'd the Day, wherein she first had seen
These Presents, and the Banquets, that had been
At your Arrival made, and how the long
Labours of Troy you told, while on your Tongue,
With Pity, her still-listning Ear depends;
Then to the Port her weeping Eys she bends;
And, Off'ring to the Gods, in Death, her Hair,
Thus speaks. Ye Gods of lasting Night! who are
By our approaching Death much Greater made,
Be Present, I beseech you! and my Shade,
O'recome with Love, and weary, now of Life,
Receive, with kind Aspect, Æneas Wife,
And Venus Daughter; who t'avenge the Guilt
Of my Sychæus Death, these Tow'rs have built
Of lofty Carthage: now the Shade to you
Of that great Body come. My Husband (who
Was fam'd for his kind Love) perhaps Me there
Expects, and would renew his former Care.
This said, the Sword (that fatal Sword!) which she
Thought a sure Pledg of Dardane Love to be,
Into her Breast she thrusts; her Servants, who
Beheld her, with sad Cries, and Shreeking, through
The Palace run. The Noise, unhappy, I
Receive, and, frighted to the Palace, fly.
Like one distracted, with my Hands, my Face
I tear, and strive to climb up to the Place.
Thrice, with that Sword, I thought my self to kill,
As oft I, sounding, on my Sister fell.

218

But, when the Rumour of her Fate was spread
Through all the Neighb'ring Cities, thence I fled
To fam'd Cyrene, and, by Fate still cross'd,
From thence upon your Coast, by Tempests tols'd,
I now am cast. The Trojan Prince, inclin'd
To Tears at this, resolv'd to be more kind
To Her: and now all Sadness, Grief, and Care,
Was lai'd aside, and Anne no longer there
A Stranger seem'd to be. But, when the Night
All things by Sea, and Land, had cover'd quite,
Her Sister Dido seem'd with sad Aspect,
These Words to Her, then sleeping, to direct.

Can'st Thou (Oh Sister!) can'st Thou long endure
Within this Family (Oh too secure!)
T'indulge Thy self to Rest? And dost not see
What dangers Thee surround? what Plots 'gainst Thee
Are lai'd? Or dost Thou not, yet, understand
How fatal to Thy Kindred, and Thy Land
The Trojans are? So long as Sphears above,
With Rapid Turning-round, the Stars shall move,
And with her Brother's Light the Moon shall shine,
Upon the Earth between the Trojan Line,
And Tyrians, there shall be no Peace: Arise,
Be gone from hence, Lavinia's Jealousies
Now secret Plots contrive, and in her Minde
Something of Mischeif 'gainst Thee is design'd.
Beside (nor think that this is but a Dream)
Hard by, Numîcus, with a gentle Stream,
From a small Fountain, through a Valley flows:
Hast quickly thither, and Thyself dispose
To Safety; there the Nymphs, with Joy, shall Thee
Receive into the Flood, and Thou shalt be,
In Italy, Eternally Ador'd
A Goddess. And, as Dido spake that Word,

219

She vanish'd into Air. Anne, frighted by
These Prodigies, awakes; and instantly,
Through Fear, cold Sweat o're all her Limbs is spread.
Then, clad with a thin Garment, from her Bed
She leaps, and through a Window, that was low,
Into the open Fields doth, speedy, go:
Untill Numîcus in his sandy Waves
Receiv'd, and hid her in his Chrystal Caves.
Now, when through all the World its Beams the Day
Had spread, and in the Trojan Chambers they
The Tyrian Lady miss'd, with Cries through all
The Latian Fields they run, and Anna call.
At length Her Footsteps to th'Neighb'ring Flood
They follow, and, as there they Wond'ring stood,
The River from his Chanel strait expell'd
The Stream, and in the Bottom they beheld
'Mong the Cœrulean Sisters, Anne, who broke
Silence, and to the Trojans kindly spoke.
Since that, when first the Year begins, is She
Divinely worshipp'd through all Italy.

When to this Fight that did so fatal prove
To Italy, the spightfull Wife of Jove
Had Her instructed, in her Chariot, light,
Up to the Stars again she takes her Flight,
Hoping full Draughts of Trojan Blood she may
At length receive. The Lesser to obey
The greater Goddess hasts, and strait to all,
Besides, unseen, repairs to Hannibal.
Sequestred from all Company, alone
She finds Him, sadly ruminating on
The dubious Event of His Affairs,
And War, with anxious Sighs; to ease His Cares
With this kind Language She salutes Him. Why
(Most Mighty King of Cadmus Progeny)

220

Dost Thou persist to vex Thy self with Care?
Know, that the angry Gods appeased are
To Thee: and now an Eye of Favour cast
On th'Agenorides. Away, make haste;
Draw Thy Marmarick Forces out to fight.
The Fasces now are chang'd, and Fabius quite,
By a Decree of Senate, now hath lai'd
The War, and Arms, aside: it may be said,
With a Flaminius Thou hast now to do.
Me the great Wife of Jove (nor doubt it True)
To Thee hath sent, I, in th'Qenotrian Land
Religiously ador'd, a Goddess stand,
Sprang from Your Belus Blood. Then quickly go,
And all the Thunder of War's Fury throw,
Where high Garganus doth it self display
Through Iäpygian Fields unto the Sea;
The Place is not far distant, thither all
Thy Ensigns bear; that Rome, at length, may fall.
This Victory shall Libya suffice.
This said, into the Clouds again She flies.

By these Assurances, of promis'd Praise,
Doth Hannibal His Thoughts dejected raise:
Great Nymph (said He) the Glory of Our Line;
Then whom by Us no Goddess more Divine
Is held! most happy with such Tidings fraught!
Thee (after I victoriously have fought)
At Carthage, in a Marble Temple, I
Will place, and, in her Statue, Dido, nigh
To Thee, shall be ador'd. This said, He then,
Full of glad Thoughts, thus animates his Men.
Now all your tedious Cares, your Sense of ill,
And slow-tormenting Pains of sitting-still
(My Souldiers) lay aside. We have appeas'd
The Wrath of Heav'n, the Gods with Us are pleas'd.

221

Hence is it, that I Fabius can declare
Discharg'd of his Command: the Fasces are
In other Hands. Now let Me see those great,
And valiant Acts, which oft, with so much Heat,
You promis'd, when excluded from the Fight.
Behold! a Libyan Deity, this Night,
Hath promis'd greater things, then We have done.
Then pull Your Ensigns up, let Us march on
After the Goddess, and that Land invade,
That, by the Name of Diomed, was made
Most fatal to the Phrygians. While they,
Encourag'd thus, to Arpos march'd away,
Varro, by stoln Plebeian Voices made
A Consul, who the Rostra did invade
With Tyranny, opens a spacious Gate
To Ruin, and draws on the Citie's Fate.

This Fellow, basely born, his Parent's Name
Unknown, into the Forum, Bawling, came
With an immodest Tongue, and made by Bribes,
And Rapine rich, humour'd th'inconstant Tribes,
By railing at the Senate, and so far
Prevail'd in Rome, then shaken by the War;
That He (by whom, had he with Victory
Return'd, it had been Shame for Italy
To be preserv'd) of all Affairs the Weight
Assum'd; sole Arbiter of her great Fate.
Him 'mong the Fabii, and those Names renown'd
In War, the Scipios, and Marcellus crown'd
With Spoils to Jove, blind Suffrages (a Stain)
Plac'd in the Fasti, while the Love of Gain,
And Mars's Field, a greater Mischief bred
For Cannæ, then the Arms of Diomed.
He, as he was Seditious, busie still
To foment Envy, and devoid of Skill

222

To plead, so was he weak in Martial Arts,
And neither fam'd for Courage, nor for Parts
To manage such Affairs, hop'd yet, among
The Valiant, to be honour'd for his Tongue,
And from the Rostra urgeth for a Fight.
When therefore to the People, full of Spight,
He had upbraided Fabius for Delay,
Against the Senate too this boasting Plea
He undertakes: Quirites! You to whom
Belongs the chief Command, to you I come,
Your Consul, for Commission now to Fight.
Shall I sit still, or, wandring o're the Height
Of Hills, beneath me Garamantians see,
And parched Moors to share in Italy?
Or shall I use that Sword, which now I wear,
Giv'n by your Suffrage. Good Dictatour, hear
What 'tis the Martial People now command.
It is their Will, that the Ausonian Land
Be eas'd of Libya's War, and of the Fo.
Do they to War precipitately go;
Who, having suffer'd much, now the third Year,
With saddest Miseries consum'd appear?
Hast then, take Arms, brave men; your sole Delay
To Triumph, is a little March. That Day,
Which first shews you the Fo, shall overthrow
The Senate and the Libyan War. Then go
With Speed; I, bound in Latian Fetters, through
The City Hannibal, in Fabius View,
Will lead. This boasting said, out at the Gates,
Rushing to Arms, he, strait, precipitates:
Like one, that unacquainted with the Arts
To guide a Chariot, from the Barriers starts;
Gives the full Reins with one, with to'ther Hand
The Whip imploys, while he doth tott'ring stand

223

Unequal to the Steeds: the Axel-tree,
Press'd by th'ill-turning Wheels, appears to be
On fire, and smoaks: the Chariot to, and fro,
Is toss'd; with it the Reins, entangled, flow.

Paulus, (who then for Peace, and War, was joyn'd
His Colleague) well perceiv'd the State inclin'd
To Ruin, and, by his unhappy Sway,
Its Strength, and Glory quickly would decay.
But the unconstant Fury of the rude,
And troubled People, and a Wound renew'd
Fresh in his Memory, Complaints supprest,
And kept his swelling Griefs within his Breast.
For when, in younger Years, he had subdu'd
Illyrium, the envious Multitude
Upon his Conquest foul Aspersions cast,
And, with unjust Reports, his Laurel blast.
Thence of the cruel People he did bear
Still in his Mind a Rev'rential Fear.
But, to the Gods ally'd, his Pedigree
From Heav'n, by fam'd Progenitours, might be
Deriv'd. His Chief, Amulius, could prove
Assaracus his Ancestour; he, Jove.
And none deny'd, who Him in Arms had seen,
That that His great Original had been.
To Him, as then he was about to take
The Field, and quit the Town, thus Fabius spake.

If that thy greatest War thou dost believe
To be with Hannibal, thou wilt deceive
Thy Countrey, Paulus (I am loth my Minde
To speak thus freely) but, Im'e sure, thou'lt finde,
Within the Camp, worse Conflicts, and a Fo
More fierce, orI, in vain, have sought to know
Events of War so long. I lately heard
Him promise (and, if I the Ruins fear'd,

224

That we shall suffer, I could weary be
Of Life, and my old Age) so soon as He
Could see him, he would fight the prosp'rous Fo.
Oh Paulus, should the eager Libyan know
This Speech, how near would our Destruction be!
I do believe, that now the Enemy
Stands ready in the Plain, and hopes to finde
Another Consul, of Flaminius Mind,
To fall into his Hands. What men wilt Thou
Provoke, mad Varro? Or, unskilfull, how
Canst thou, forthwith, their Camp, and Arms before
Discover? and, by thy Delays, explore,
How much the Customs of the Fo may Thee
Avail? How great his Magazine may be?
Or what the Place's Nature? Thou their kind
Of Weapons soon wilt know, and Fortune finde
Standing on all their Points. Paulus, thy just
Resolves to all his devious Courses must
Opposed be: if it be just in him
T'afflict his Countrey, can it be a Crime
In Thee to save it? Hannibal is now
Straitned for Victuals: His Associates grow
Now weary of his Friendship, since the Heat
Of War's allai'd: here He finds no Retreat
To better Quarters: here no Cities are,
To whose Fidelity he can repair.
Nor can he here recruit his Youth again:
Scarce a third part of all those men remain,
That with him from Iberus came: Oh then
Continue firm, and to our Wounds, agen
The Med'cine of a Cautious War apply.
If in the mean time Th'art invited by
Any propitious Air, and Heav'n approve;
Near to thy better Fortune quickly move.

225

Paulus, with Sadness, briefly thus again
Answers. This Piety shall still remain
With me: thy Minde (unconquer'd General)
Against the Libyan I'le still bear. Withall,
I know there is such Reason to with-hold
From Fight, that Hannibal, now waxing old,
Through thy Delays, perceivs the War to be
Almost suppress'd, and at a Stand: but see
The sad Displeasure! see the Wrath of Heav'n!
One Consul (I believe) to Rome is giv'n
To 'ther to Carthage: He draws with Him all
Affairs, and madly fears, that Rome should fall
By any other Hand, then by His own:
She, cruel, from the Tyrian Senate, none
Could more destructive choose: no Warlike Steed;
To carry Him against the Fo, hath Speed
Enough. It grievs Him, that His March should be
Retarded, by the Night's Obscurity.
With Swords half drawn He marches, that no Stay,
To draw a Sword, His fighting may delay.
But ye Tarpeian Rocks, and Tow'rs that be
Sacred to Jove, through him ally'd to Me!
And my thrice happy Countrie's Walls, which now
I standing leave, the Witness of my Vow!
Where e're the common Safety calls me, I
Will go, and greatest Dangers will defie;
But, if still deaf, to what I shall advise,
The Camp will fight, I shall no longer prize
Th'Enjoyment of my Sons, and dearest Home,
Nor, like to Varro, me shall wounded Rome
Returning see. Thus high in Discontent
The Generals, both, to the Army went.

The Libyan within th'Ætolian Plains
(As by His Dream advis'd) encamp'd remains.

226

Neither had Italy e're sent a Force
Greater for Number, both of Foot, and Horse,
Into the Field: for then they fear'd the Fall
Both of the City, and the Nation; all
Their Hopes upon one Battel did depend.
Therefore the Faun-got Rutuli did send,
Join'd with Sicanian Arms, their Sacred Bands
Into the War. Those, that possess the Lands
Of Daunus, and Laurentine Palaces,
And fam'd Numicius Waters, join'd with these.
From Castrum likewise, to the War, they came;
And Ardea, once fatal to the Name
Of Phrygians; and, Lavînum, where of old
(Built on a lofty Hill) they did behold
Great Juno's Temple; and, Collatia where
Chast Brutus took his Birth: with those, that are
Wont to frequent Diana's cruel Grove;
And that the Mouth o'th' Tyrrhen River love.
They likewise, that in Almo's warmer Stream
Cherish Cybele, to the Army came.
Thy Tybur too, Catyllus, muster'd; and
Præneste, that upon an Hill doth stand,
Sacred to Fortune; and Antemna, fam'd:
Before Crustumium, from the River nam'd.
With the Labîci, skill'd to Plow, and those,
That dwell where now Imperial Tiber flows;
With Anyo's Neighbours, and the People, where
The Fields with cold Simbrivium water'd are;
And the Æquicolæ, for Tillage known.
Their Captain, Scaurus was; whose Chin the Down
Then newly cover'd: but his rising Worth
Began to future Times to set him forth.
These were not wont with Steel to point the Spear,
Or Quivers full of winged Shafts to bear;

227

Piles, and short Swords, they love: their Heads with Brass
Defended are, their Crests all else surpass.
But those, which Setia, that's reserv'd alone
For Bacchus Table, and Velitræ, known
By many Battels, from her Valley sent,
With such as Cora listed, and that went
From Signia, full of hurtfull Wines; with those,
Where the black Fen of Satura o'reflows
The Pontine Level, with a noisom Flood;
Which, running through the Fields, all stain'd with Mud,
Ufens within his Chanel strait collects:
And with the Slime the Neighb'ring Sea infects,
Were under valiant Scævola's Command;
Who, Great in's Ancestours, nor of that Hand
Unworthy held, whose honour'd Figure He,
Carv'd in his Target, wore: where they might see
The flaming Altars, 'midst the Tyrrhen Bands,
Now angry with himself, bold Mutius stands,
And Valour, in his Image, seem'd to be
Turn'd into Rage: Porsenna, instantly,
Having escap'd the Blow, to Arms returns,
While He his erring Hand, for Anger, burns.
Then, from the fam'd Circæan Hills, and from
Anxur (high-standing on a Rock) they come:
With those, that Plow the Hernick Stony Fields,
And fair Anagnia, that such Plenty yields
Of Wheat. But Sylla the Terentines, joyn'd
With Privernates, led. Then, those, that shin'd
In their bright Arms, from Sora lately sent.
Next these, the Fabraterian People went,
And Scaptian Youth. Atina too was there,
From her cold Hill; and Suessa, worn with War:
And, from the Plough, Trusino, not to be
Esteem'd, as weak. But those, that Lyris see,

228

Mixing his sulph'rous Waters with the cold
Fibrenus, and, with silent Streams, by old
Arpinum glides; with the Venafrian Bands,
And him, that with the Larinates Hands
Brings his Auxiliaries, and the vast
Aquînum of her Men doth quite exhaust,
Tullius to War, in brasen Arms, did bring:
A Noble Youth, that did from Tullus spring,
And of so great a Wit, that Fate ordain'd,
That He should give to the Ausonian Land
One of his Race, that should be understood
Beyond the Indies, and their famous Flood
Of Ganges: whose great Voice the World should fill;
Who, by the Thunder of his Tongue, should still
The Noise of War; nor shall Posterity
Er'e hope the like, for Eloquence, to see.
But from Theramnean Blood, of Clausus, sprung,
Inimitable for brave Deeds, among
The Chief, was Nero: Him the Troops, that came
From Amiternum, and, which takes her Name
From Bactrians, Casperula, with all
From Foruli, and, which we Sacred call
To th'Mother of the Gods, Reate, and
Nursia, that as besieg'd by Frosts doth stand,
And Troops from Tetricus cold Rock, to th'Field
Attend, all arm'd with Lances, and their Shield
Made, Globe-like, round: no Plumes their Helmets bear,
And their left Legs with Boots defended are.
These, as they Joyfull march'd, some Praises sung
To Thee, great Sanctus (for from Thee they sprung)
Some, Sabus, honour Thee, who first of all
Thy People, from Thy Name, didst Sabines call.
But Curio, rough with's scaly Coat of Mail,
And on his Helmet's Crest an Horses Tail,

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Into the War so great Assistance brings;
That not the Raging Sea more num'rous flings
Its foaming Billows up: nor Bands more light,
And Active, when She imitates a Fight,
Riding through num'rous Troops, with Moon-like Shields,
The Warlike Maid leads through the Scythian Fields,
And makes Thermodoon, and the Earth, resound
The Noise. Here those, that in thy Stony Ground,
Numana, dwell, and those, that near the Shore
With flaming Altars, Cupra, Thee adore,
Were to be seen. They likewise thither send,
Their Aids, who the Truentine Tow'rs defend
By the adjoyning River, and the Sun,
From their bright Targets, by Reflexion,
At Distance, rais'd a bloody Light: and there
Ancon as rich in Purple did appear,
As are the Libyan, or Sidonian Looms.
Then, water'd by Vomanus, Adria comes.
And, near to them, the Ensigns they behold
Of churlish Asculum, which (fam'd of old)
Vepîcus, sprung from Saturne, built: Him, by
Her Charms, Phœbean Circe forc'd to fly,
Depriv'd of his own Figure through the Air,
With yellow Plumes. Once the Pelasgi there
Inhabited, and Aesis (as by Fame
We learn) their Ruler was, and left his Name
Unto the River, and his People all
Began Asili, from himself, to call.
Nor, coming from their hollow Hills, with worse
Supplies, did Umbrian Swains the Camp enforce.
These Æsis, Sapis, and, with rapid Waves,
Roll'd over lofty Rocks, Metaurus Laves:
Clitumnus too, that Bulls for Sacrifice
Washeth in Sacred Streams; and Nar, that flies

230

Foaming to Tiber; and, whose Waters run
Ingloriously, Tinia, and Rubicon,
With Clavis, and which, from the Senones,
Was Senna call'd: but Tyber, 'midst of these,
With Banks unshaken, near th'Imperial Walls,
Swells high, and thence into the Ocean falls.
Their Cities, Arna, and Mevania, rich
In spacious Meads, Hispellum, Narnia, which
Upon a steep, and rocky Hill doth ly;
Inginum too, of old infected by
Moist Clouds; and, lying in an open Plain,
Fulginia, wanting Walls. Near these remain
A warlike People, Amerini nam'd:
And Camers, near to them, for Arrows fam'd;
With wealthy Sarsina, renown'd for Store
Of Milk; and the Tudertes, that adore
The God of War. These, a stout Race of Men,
Contemning Death, were led by Piso, then
A Youth, and there in such an Habit shin'd;
But equalling, by his sagacious Mind,
The Antient, and in Policy his Years
Excelling, at the Armie's Head appears
In Parthian-painted Arms, and Golden Chain;
Whose Gems a Lustre cast through all the Plain.
But then a Legion of Hetrurian Bands,
Compleat, stout Galba (a great Name) commands:
From Cretan Minos He his Pedigree
Deriv'd, and from Lustfull Pasiphae,
So hated by the Bull; and from that Line
His Noble Ancestours in Order shine.
Then Cere chosen Bands, Cortona then
(Proud Tarcon's Family) send chosen Men;
With old Graviscæ, Alsium, by thy Streams
Grecian Alesus, lov'd, and that, which seems

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Besieg'd by a rude Plain, Fregellæ: nor
Was Fesula (the Fam'd Interpreter
Of Thunder) wanting, with her Sacred Bands.
And, near to them, Clusinum Muster'd stands,
Once a great Terrour to the Walls of Rome;
When thou, Porsenna, Arm'd, didst thither come,
And didst endeavour to restore, in vain,
Th'expell'd Tarquinii to the Throne again.
Then Luna, from her Snow-white Quarries, prest
Her lab'ring Youth: Luna, before the rest,
Fam'd for her spacious Port; which can contain
Ships without Number, and shuts in the Main.
Not far from these, the Vetulonian Band
(The Glory once of the Mæonian Land)
Which first ordain'd twelve Fasces to precede
The Consuls; and, to strike a silent Dread,
As many Axes added: it was She,
That first adorn'd with polish'd Ivory
Triumphal Chairs: Her Nobles first array'd
In Tyrian Purple, and that Trumpets made
Courage by them in Battel to enflame.
Next these the Nepesinian Cohorts came,
And Just Falisci; and, Flavinia, those,
That keep thy Fires. Near whom Sabaca goes,
In Fens abounding; and, that near thy Lake,
Cimînus, dwell; with them, that Sutrium take
For their Abode; and those, that to the Rites
Of Phœbus high Soracte oft invites:
Caps of the Skins of Beasts their Heads defend;
Two Darts they carry, and their Spears commend
Before the Lycian Bows. These, all in War
Most expert: but the Marsian People are
Not onely Valiant; but can likewise Charm
To sleep the banefull Adder, and disarm

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The Viper of her Teeth, by Herbs, and Spells.
Anguitia first (as Fame the Story tells)
Oëtes Race, those hurtfull Simples shew'd,
And with her Touch, all Poison's Force subdu'd.
She from her Sphear could shake the Moon, and Floods
Stop with her Voice; and, calling down the Woods,
The Mountains naked make. But, full of Dread,
Marsyas, when he the Phrygian Creni fled
By Sea, unto that People gave his Name;
When, with a Lute, Apollo overcame
His shrill Mygdonian Flute. The Chief of all
Their Cities they, from antient Marus, call
Marruvium; and, for Corn in moister Fields,
More inward, Alba store of Apples yields.
The rest were little Towns obscure in Fame;
But in their Numbers greater, then their Name.
'Mong which, Pelignas, and cold Sulmo sent
Their Cohorts; nor, then these, less diligent
Were those of Cales, born, near them in Blood,
From Calaïs (as by Fame 'tis understood)
The Noble Founder of a City fair,
Whom Orithyia (ravish'd through the Air)
For Boreas nurs'd in Getick Caves. No less
Active in War, then these, Vestini press
Their Youth, inur'd to Hardship by the Chase
Of salvage Beasts. They likewise War imbrace,
That in thy Tow'rs, Fiscellus, dwell: and, now,
They also arm, that fertile Pinna mow;
And thy rich Meads, Avella, that so soon
Sprout up: and then in Emulation
Of the Frentani, the Marrucins drew
Corfinium's People, and Theate too.
All these, with Rustick Weapons arm'd for Fight,
Could, with their Slings, a Bird, in highest Flight,

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Strike down: the Skins of Bears, about their Breast,
In Hunting kill'd, they wear. And now the rest,
That were for Wealth, or Ancestours renown'd,
In all the Tract of the Campanian Ground,
Appear in Arms, or their Assistance send.
The Osci in their Neighb'ring Plains attend
Th'Arrival of the Generals: and there
Warm Sinuessa, and Vulturnum, were;
Whose River like a Torrent falls into
The Sea; and, whom her Silence overthrew,
Amyclæ. Fundi, and Cajeta, where
Lamus was King. Thy People too were there,
Antiphates, that's by the Sea comprest.
And, which the rotten Fens, and Pools invest,
Linternum: and the Cumæ, that of old,
Conscious of Fate, all future things foretold.
There was Nuteria, there was Gaurus, good
For Shipping; there, deriv'd from Grecian Blood,
With many Souldiers was Parthenope,
With Dicarchenian Bands: and Alliphe,
And Nola, to the Libyan hard to pass.
Slighted for Clanius, there Acerræ was:
There the Serrastes: there were to be seen
Mild Sarnus Riches, and the Troops had been
Listed in Phlegra, fat with Sulphure; and
Misenus, and the Ithatesian Band
Of Baius, burning with the Giant's Breath.
Not Prochyte, nor, which Typhæus Death
In sulph'rous Flames, Inarime, beheld,
Nor ancient Telo's Stony Isle, this Field
Avoids. But thither doth Calatia, from
Her little Walls, thither Surrentum come;
And, poor in Corn, Avella. But, of all
The Chief was Capua; that, too Prodigal

234

(Alass!) not knowing in Prosperity
To keep a Mean, was lost in Luxury.

These for the future War by Scipio form'd;
He gave them Piles; and then with Iron arm'd
Their Breasts: from Home, (as was their Father's Wont)
They lighter Weapons, Shafts of Cornel, blunt,
Without an Head of Steel, but hardned by
The Fire, with Hurl-Bats, which they can let fly,
And, with a String, retire, as they invade
The Fo, and Axes for the Countrey made.
Nor was he wanting, 'midst them all, to shew
Great Signs of future Praise. Sometimes He threw
An hardned Stake, or leap'd a Trench to scale
A Wall, or, arm'd, by Swimming would prevail
Against impetuous Streams: these great, and bold
Examples of His Valour all behold.
Oft, in the open Plain, with wondrous Speed
Would he out-run the spur'd, and fleetest Steed:
Oft, cross the Camp, would He a Jav'lin throw,
Or weighty Stone. He had a Martial Brow;
His Hair was soft, and gentle, which behind
Hung in long Tresses; His Aspect was kind,
And gentle; and His Eys a pleasing Dread
With sparkling Raies, on the Beholders, shed.
Samnis was likewise there, not yet inclin'd
To Hannibal, yet keping in her Mind
Her antient Anger; Batulum, and those,
That dwell where Mucra by Liguria flows.
With them, that Bovianian Caves frequent,
Or Caudine Straits, and which Esernia sent,
Or Rufre; or, obscure Herdonia, from
Thy Fields, soon after wasted, armed come.
Alike in Courage, there, the Brutii stand,
With them from Lucane Hills, a lusty Band;

235

And Hirpine Youth, who, cover'd o're with Hides
Of Beasts, and Darts, like Bristles by their Sides,
Are all by Hunting fed; and, ever, dwell
In Caves, and in a River Thirst expell,
And get their Sleep with Labour. Calaber,
And the Salentine Cohorts, added are
To them; near whom Brundusium doth stand,
A famous Period to th'Italian Land.
A Legion bold Cethegus there commands,
Of Social Aids, and intermingled Bands.
Now, from Leucosia's Rocks, the Souldiers shew
Themselves, and from Picentian Pesto too,
And from Caryllæ, that soon after fell
By Hannibal's dire Rage: with those, that dwell
Near Silarus, where Fame reports, the Flood
To turn to hardest Stone the drowned Wood:
He both the stout Salernian Fauchion, and
Th'unpolish'd Club, that, fitted to his Hand,
The strong Buxentian us'd, commends. While he
(As was the Custom of his Family)
His Arm bar'd to the Shoulder, joy'd to ride
A stubborn Horse, and in his hard Mouth try'd
His Strength of Youth, by Wheeling to, and fro.
And you, ye wasted Nations of the Po,
Your Vows then by the Gods neglected, all
Rush into Arms, by Fate decreed to fall.
Placentia, ruin'd by the War, contends
With Mutina, and Mantua, that sends
Her Levies, sought Cremona to excell:
Fam'd Mantua, where the Thespian Sisters dwell;
Which, Emulous of Smyrna's Muse, is prais'd
For Audine Songs, and to the Stars is rais'd.
The next, by Athesis encompass'd, went
Verona; and Faventia, diligent

236

Still to preserve the Pines, that Crown her Fields:
Vercellæ; and Pellentia, that yields
Store of black Wooll; and Ocnus Family,
Which against Turnus once assisted Thee,
Æneas; and Bononia, that lyes
Near little Rhene: with him, that lab'ring plies,
With pond'rous Oars, the muddy Streams, that by
Ravenna flow, which 'mong the Fens doth ly.
Then, sprang, of old, from the Euganean Land,
(Antenor's Countrey) came a Trojan Band.
There Aquileia, with Venetian Arms,
Are eager for the Fight: there the Alarms
O'th'Fo, the swift Ligurians attend;
And, scatter'd on the Rocks, Vageni send
Their hardy Nephews, there ordain'd to be
The Honour of the Libyan's Victory.
Brutus, in whom these People, all, repose
Their greatest Confidence, their Leader goes
Into the Field, and 'gainst the Enemy
Excites their Rage. A pleasant Gravity
Adorn'd his Fore-head, and a serious Mind
With Valour, not to Cruelty inclin'd.
Th'unpleasant Praise of churlish Rigour He
Did not affect, or harsh Austerity,
Nor Glory by sinister Courses sought.
To these three thousand expert Archers, brought
From flaming Ætna, the Sicilian King,
Most faithfull, adds: but Ilva did not bring
So many men; and yet She did afford
Her Cohorts, which, selected for the Sword,
And arm'd with Native Mettle, thither came:
They Varro's Zeal to fight would hardly blame,
Whoe're so many Arms at once beheld.
Such Numbers rag'd through the Rhætéan Field;

237

When Troy the great Mycenæ did invade,
And, when a thousand Ships their Anchors weigh'd,
And sail'd through Hellespont. So soon as they
Arriv'd at Cannæ, where the Ruins lay
Of an old City, they encamp'd, and there
Their most unhappy Ensigns fix'd: nor were
The Gods then wanting to foreshew to all
Those Ruins, that soon after did befall.
Th'affrighted Souldiers see their Piles to burn,
The Turrets on the Rampires overturn,
And fall. Garganus, from a lofty Crown,
Trembling, the Woods, and Forests, tumbles down.
From his deep Bottom Aufidus began
Panting to roar: amidst the Ocean,
Remote Ceraunian Rocks with Flames affright
The trembling Mariners; and then, the Light
With sudden Stygian Darkness cover'd o're,
Calabrian Sipus Gropes for Land, and Shore,
The Owl with fatal Houting oft alarms
The Camp, ev'n at the Gates; and Bees, in Swarms,
Like Clouds, involve the Eagles: in the Air
Comets, the Fall of Kings, with flaming Hair,
Shine fatally: and salvage Beasts by Night
Break through the Camp, and Works, and, in the sight
O'th'frighted Souldiers, through the Neighb'ring field
Scatter the Limbs o'th'Centinel they kill'd:
Deluded by the Image of their Fear,
From their dark Graves, the Ghosts of Gauls appear
To break: and then the high Tarpeian Rock,
As torn from its Foundation, often shook:
The Temples of the Gods with Streams of Blood
Were wet: Quirinus Statue, as it stood,
Wept largely: Allia, greater then before,
Swells higher then the Banks: the Alps no more

238

Stand still, nor Apennine, which Night, and Day,
Shook with vast Ruptures, and where Libya
Extended lyes, ev'n from the very Pole,
'Gainst Italy, the flaming Meteors roll.
Such horrid Thunder-Claps the Heav'ns above
Divide, that they detect the Face of Jove.
The Lemnian God his Lightning likewise threw
From Ætna, and, as broken Quarries flew
Up to the Clouds (as in the Giant's Wars)
Knock'd his Phlægræan Head against the Stars.

But, 'midst them all, as conscious of the Fight,
He looks, and Sense-distracted with the Fright,
With horrid Cries the Camp a Souldier fills,
And, panting, thus express'd the future Ills.

Spare us, ye cruel Gods! the Fields I see
Too little for the Heaps of Slaughter be.
Through thickest Ranks the Libyan Captain flies,
And His swift Chariot over Companies
Of Men, and Arms, drives on, and drags along
Their Limbs, and Ensigns: while the wind, with strong
Impetuous Blasts, a furious War doth make
Against our Eys, and Faces. From thy Lake
(Sad Thrasimen!) unmindfull of his Years,
In vain, Servilius, now reserv'd appears.
Whither! Oh whither, is't that Vurro flies!
Oh Jove! among the Stones, see! Paulus lies,
The last great Hope of Rome's declining State:
These Ruins, Trebia, now, exceed thy Fate.
Behold, a Bridg is made of Bodies slain,
And silent Aufidus into the Main
Rolls mangled Corps: o're all the Plains I see
The Elephants insult with Victory.
Our Consul's Axes, and our Fasces, stain'd
With Blood, a Tyrian Lictor in his Hand,

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After our Custom, bears. To Libya
The Pomp of Romane Triumph's born away.
Oh Grief! Yet this, ye Gods, that we behold,
Is your Command: while by congested Gold,
Torn from left Hands, victorious Carthage sees
The Measure of the Romane Miseries.

The End of the Eighth Book.

241

The Ninth Book.

The Argument.

The Consul Paulus, as advis'd, declines
The Fight, forbidden by unhappy Signs.
Rash Varro urgeth for a Day. A Son,
In that sad Night, before the Day begun,
His Father, flying from the Libyan Side,
Unhappy kills; who bids him, as he dy'd,
Forewarn the Romanes to avoid the Fight:
His Son this Warning on his Shield doth write,
And kills himself for Grief. The fatal Field
Is fought; the Romans miserably kill'd:
The Libyans have the Day. While 'fore his Eys
His Men are slain, the Coward Varro flies.

While Italy, thus vext with Prodigies,
The Signs (in vain) of future Ruin sees,
Discover'd by the Gods, as if they might
Prove happy Omens of the following Fight;
The Consul, waking, spends the Night: and, now,
Throws in the Dark his Jav'lins; then, as slow,

242

Upbraids his Colleague; and, while yet 'twas Night,
Would have the Trumpets sound a Charge, and fight
The Libyans, no less eager to engage.
Urg'd by the adverse Fates, with sudden Rage,
Out from the Camp they sally, and begin
To Skirmish. For the Macæ, that had bin
Disperst, for Forage, through the Neighb'ring Plain,
A winged Showr of Shafts, like sudden Rain,
Pour on the Romanes: and, before the rest,
Mancînus (who to be the first had prest,
To dip in Hostile Blood his Weapon) dy'd:
And with him many gallant Youth beside.
Nor yet, though Paulus, sadly, did declare,
How cross the Auspicies, and Entrails were,
Would Varro from the Battel have abstain'd,
Unless the Lot, by which they did command
The Camp, by Turns, had thwarted his Desire,
And forc'd the hasty Fates a while retire.
But yet, no longer, then a Day, could be
Between a thousand Deaths, and their Decree
Allow'd. Into the Camp the Troops return
Again: while Paulus ceaseth not to mourn,
Seeing the Reins of the next Day's Command
Were to be trusted in a frantick Hand;
And, that those Souls were, then, preserv'd in Vain
From Slaughter. For enrag'd, and mad again,
For that he had the Battel then delai'd,
Dost Thou, thus now, Æmilius (Varro said)
Thy Gratitude, and the Reward repay
Of that thy guilty Head? Or else have they
From Thee deserved such a base Return;
Who snatch'd Thee from the Laws, and threatning Urn?
Command them to surrender to the Fo
Their Arms, and Swords; or, when to fight they go,

243

Cut all their Right-Hands off. But you, whom I
Have often Weeping seen, commanded by
The Consul to retire, or shun the Fo,
No more expect the Signal, when you go
To fight, or slow Commands: let ev'ry Man
Be his own Leader, and go boldly on
In his own Ways. When first the Sun shall shed
His Morning Rays upon Garganus Head,
These Hands the Ports shall open for you all:
Then charge them quickly, and this Day recall,
Which you have lost. Thus he, with mad Desires,
To Fight, the discontented Camp inspires.
When Paulus, not the same in Mind, or Face:
But, as if, after Fight, he'd seen the Place
Strew'd with his slaughter'd Friends; and, as if there
In View the Miseries ensuing were:
As when all Hope of her Son's Life is past,
In Vain, his yet-warm Body, in her last
Embrace, a Mother huggs, and seems to be
Sensless with Grief. By Rome's dear Walls (said He)
So often shaken! by those Souls, which now
Night with a Stygian Shade surrounds, and know
No Guilt, forbear I pray, to run upon
Your Ruin, till the Wrath of Heav'n be gone,
And Fortune's Fury be consum'd. 'Twill be
Enough, if our New Men shall dare to see
The Fo without a Fear; or if, at all,
They will endure the Name of Hannibal.
Saw'st thou not, when, within the Neighb'ring Plain,
His Voice was heard, how soon the Blood again
From their Pale Faces fled? and how their Arms
Fell down before the Trumpets shrill Alarms?
Fabius, as you suppose, was dull, and slow,
To Fight; yet all those Souldiers, that did go

244

With those blam'd Ensigns, now in Arms appear:
So do not those, that with Flaminius were.
But Heav'n avert such things! and, if you are
Resolv'd my Counsell to resist, and Pray'r;
Yet hearken to the Gods: for know, of old,
This the Grynæan Prophetess foretold
To all the World, in former Ages; Thee,
And this thy Headlong Rage, presaging, She
Divulg'd: and, as another Prophet, now,
I plainly to thee here thy Fate avow;
Unless to Morrow's Ensigns be by thee
Restrain'd, Thou, with our Blood, wilt ratifie
The Sybil's Words: nor shall these Fields be fam'd
(If thou persist) from Diomed, but nam'd
Fatal, from thee. Thus Paulus, in whose Eys,
Enflam'd with Grief, the Tears began to rise.
And then a wicked Errour stain'd the Night;
For Satricus, made Captive in a Fight
In Libya, to Xantippus was a Slave;
Who him (sor's Valour priz'd) soon after gave
To th'Autololian King. At Sulmo he
An House possess'd, and left two Sons to be
There Nurtur'd by their Mother: one they call
Mancînus; t'other Solymas, to all
Known for his Trojan Name: for his Descent
Was Dardane, and his Ancestour, who went
After Æneas Fortune, built, and Wall'd
A City fair, which Solymon he call'd,
From his own Name, and, 'mong Italians fam'd,
By them, corruptly now, is Sulmo nam'd.
This Satricus, the Autololian King,
Among his Barbarous Troops, did thither bring,
And, on Occasion, us'd him there to teach
Getulians to know the Latine Speech.

245

But, when he found a Possibility
Pelignian Walls, and's Native Home to see,
To second his Attempt, he takes the Night,
And quits by Stealth the Camp. Yet in his Flight
He took no Arms; being fearfull to betray
Himself by's Shield, and Naked went away.
But, when the Spoils, and Dead within the Field,
He spy'd; Mancînus strip'd: his Arms, and Shield,
He strait puts on, by which his former Fear
Was lightned: but the Body, which he there
Had Naked made, and he, whose Spoils he wore,
Was his own Son, there slain not long before,
By a fierce Macian Fo: Night growing on,
'Bout the first Sleep, behold! his other Son
(Young Solymus) appointed, by his Fate,
Then to relieve the Watch, without the Gate,
From the Ausonian Camp, advanc'd with Speed,
To seek, among the Heaps o'th'scatter'd Dead,
Mancînus Body, and by Stealth Interr
His dearest Brother: but he had not far
Advanc'd, when arm'd from the Sidonian Side,
Coming up to him, he a Man espy'd;
With which surpriz'd, into thy Tomb he flies
(Ætolian Thoas) and there Skulking lies.
But when he saw no Souldiers in the Rear,
And that alone i'th' Dark he wandred there,
Out from the Sepulchre he leaps, and throws
At's Father's Naked Back, as on he goes,
A Jav'lin, not in vain. His Father, who
Thought that some Tyrian Troop did him pursue,
And gave the Wound, about him look'd, to know
The Authour of that unexpected Blow;
But, when, with Speed, the Conquerour advanc'd,
And from the Arms, well-known, a Lustre glanc'd,

246

And, as the Moon did then Assistance yield,
He plainly saw, it was his Brother's Shield.
Enflam'd with Rage, I'me not thy Son (said He)
Oh Satricus of Sulmo! Nor should be
Mancînus Brother: nor deserve a Name
Among those Nephews, that directly came
From Dardan Solymus; should I now thee
Permit (false Libyan) with Impunity
To 'scape this Hand. Shall I endure thee wear
My Brother's Spoils before my Face? or bear
The Arms of a Pelignian House away,
While I survive, or, guilty, see the Day?
No (my dear Mother) these I'le bear to Thee,
A gratefull Present, and most fit to be
A Comfort to thy Griefs, for thy lost Son;
That thou may'st them for ever fix upon
His Sepulchre: and, as he spake that Word
Aloud, he rush'd upon him with his Sword.
But, Satricus, who now could hardly stand,
And faintly held his Weapon in his Hand,
Hearing his Countrey nam'd, his Wife, and Sons,
And Arms, cold Horrour through his Members runs,
And stupifies his Sense: his dying Mouth,
At length, this Language to the Furious Youth
Breaths forth; O spare thy Hand, I pray thee, spare;
Not that I beg for longer Life; it were
A Sin in me to ask it: but the Stain
Of this my Blood, I wish may not remain
Upon thy Hand. I am that Satricus,
Captive to Carthage, sprung from Solymus,
Now to my Countrey, by the Tyrian brought.
I know, my Son, 'twas not in thee a Fault,
When first thou didst thy Spear against me throw:
I was a Libyan then; but from the Fo

247

I fled to you, and hasted now to see
My dear Wife's Face, prevented thus by Thee.
This Target, as I came, I took away
From thy dead Brother; but be sure to lay
This with his Arms, excus'd, upon his Tomb:
But, first be carefull, soon as Thou shalt come
Into the Camp, my last Advice to bear
To Gen'ral Paulus, that he have a Care
Still to protract the War, and Fight decline
With Hannibal; whose Auguries Divine
Swell Him with Hopes, that He shall shortly see
An Immense Slaughter. But, let Varro be,
I pray, restrain'd: For he, as Fame doth tell,
Is eager still your Eagles to impell.
'Tis a great Comfort, as my Life now ends,
That I have giv'n this Warning to my Friends.
But thy last Kisses, now, bestow upon
Thy Father lost, and found at once, my Son.

Thus as he spake, his Helmet off he cast,
And, with his trembling Arms, the Neck embrac'd
Of's Son; amaz'd, and strove, with Words, his Shame
To cure, and to excuse the Weapon's Blame,
That gave the Wound. Who knows (said he) my Son,
Or who can testifie what we have done?
Doth not the Night conceal the Errour? Why
Dost tremble so? Thy Breast more close apply
To mine. Why dost thou at such Distance stand?
Ev'n I, thy Father, do absolve thy Hand,
And pray, my Labours ending, it may close
Mine Eys. The Youth, opprest with sudden Woes,
Gave no return of Words to what he said:
But, sighing deeply, labour'd to have staid
His Blood, and (strangely weeping) to have bound,
With his torn Shirt, the deep-inflicted Wound.

248

At length, among his many Sighs, thus he
Breaks into sad Complaints. Doth Fortune Thee
(Dear Father) to thy Countrey, and to Us,
Thus bring again? Or doth She, cruel, thus
Me to my Father, Him restore to Me?
Happy my Brother was, thrice happy He,
Who thought our Father was destroy'd by Fate:
But I, by Tyrians untouch'd, too late
Now know him by a Wound. It would have been
At least some Comfort, Fortune, to my Sin,
Had it been still left doubtfull: but my Woes
No longer shall be left to the Dispose
Of the unequal Gods. While his Complaints,
Distracted, thus he vents, his Father faints
Through loss of Blood, and into empty Air
His Life resolves: the Youth, with sad Despair,
Then lifting to the Stars his Eys; Thou Moon,
Who art sole Witness of what I have done,
By this polluted Hand; who by thy Light
Did'st guid my fatal Jav'lin, in its Flight,
Into my Father's Body: these mine Eys,
And cursed Sight (said He) while in the Skies
Thou reign'st, no more shall thee contaminate.
With that his Sword his Breast doth penetrate;
Yet he endeavour'd to sustain the Wound,
Till, the Blood largely-flowing, on the Ground,
His Father's last Commands he thus did write
Upon his Target, Varro, Shun The Fight,
Then on his Jav'lin's Point his Shield he hung,
And himself, dying, on his Father flung.

The Gods these Omens, of the following Fight,
To the Ausonians gave; and, as the Night;
Conscious of all this Wickedness, gave way
Her Shades retiring, to the rising Day,

249

The Carthaginian Captain citeth all
His Troops to Arms; the Romane General
The like performs: and such a Day, as in
No Age before, for Libya doth begin.
You need no Words (said Hannibal) t'excite
Your Courage, or provoke you to the Fight:
But we have come from the Herculean Bounds,
With Conquest to these Iäpygian Grounds.
We stout Sagunthus have destroy'd; to Us
The Alps gave way; and proud Eridanus
(The chief of Rivers in Italian Ground)
Flows in a captive Chanel; Trebia's drown'd
In Humane Blood: Flaminius, who was slain
By Us, (a Burthen to the Tyrrhen Plain)
Lyes buried there; and all the Fields are fill'd
With Romane Bones, and since were never till'd.
But, now, behold a Day, more bright, then all
These Titles, and which to our Wishes shall
Afford more Blood. This Fight's Renown to Me
A true Reward, and Great enough shall be.
All other things your Conquest shall become;
And, without Chance of Lots, whatever Rome
Hath hither, from the rich Iberian Coast,
Brought, as her Spoil; or what She else can boast
In her Ætnæan Triumphs, or what more
Sh'hath basely ravish'd from the Libyan Shore,
Your Swords shall gain; and you shall carry Home,
All, that to your Victorious Hands shall come.
Nothing of their vast Wealth will I, as due
To Me (your General) demand: for You
Hath the Dardanian Spoiler plunder'd all
The conquer'd World so long. Whoe're can call
Himself a Native Tyrian, or can claim,
From his Original, a Sarrane Name,

250

If him the fair Laurentine Land, which now
Sigæan Swains (your future Slaves) do Plow,
Delight; or, rather, the Buxentian Fields,
Where Corn, an hundred-Fold, the Goddess yield:
I'le give him Choice of Lands, and add to them
These Banks, which Tyber with his conquer'd Stream
Doth largely water. But then whosoe're
(My dear Companions) doth now appear
In Arms, and brings from Byrsa's farthest Land,
As an Ally, his Aids: if He his Hand
Stain'd with Ausonian Blood, shall shew to Me,
He shall a Citizen of Carthage be.
Nor let Garganus, or this Daunian Land
Deceive you; at the very Walls you stand
Of Rome: though far that Citie's losty Site
Be distant from this Place, where we shall fight;
Here shall She fall this Day, and henceforth I
Shall need no more your Valour to employ
In War (my Souldiers) but from hence You shall
Directly march into the Capitol.
This said: their Works, and Rampires down they throw,
And over all Delays of Trenches go;
While he, the Place well view'd, in order'd Ranks,
Draws up his Troops, upon the winding Banks.

The Barb'rous Nasamonian Bands were plac't
In the left Wing, and the Marmarick, vast
Of Body, the fierce Moors, and Macians,
Massilian Troops, and Garamantians,
With them the Adrimachides, that give
Themselves to War, and love by it to live;
Then all those People, that inhabit on
The Banks of Nile, and from the scorching Sun
Shelter their Tawny Bodies: These their Head,
And chief Commander, stout Nealces led.

251

But the right Wing did valiant Mago guide;
Plac'd where swift Aufidus doth wandring glide,
By winding Banks, with crooked Streams: and there
The Active Troops of rough Pyrene were,
And with confused Murmurs fill'd the Shore:
There shin'd the Warlike Youths, that Targets bore.
Before the rest, Cantabrians appear,
And Gascoins, that no Helmets use to wear,
With Betick Troops, and him, that, fighting, flings
His flying Lead from Balearick Slings.
But the main Battel Hannibal Commands:
Which, with His Father's old Victorious Bands
He strengthens, and Blood-thirsty Celtæ, who
Their Troops oft muster on the Banks of Po.
But, where his Course the River turn'd away,
So that the Files unflank'd, and Open lay,
His Libyan Elephants in Order stood,
Their dusky Backs all charg'd with Tow'rs of Wood;
Which, when they forward march'd, up to the Skies,
Like Battlements, or moving Walls, did rise.
But, the Numidian Horse were left to Scout
On ev'ry Side, and scour the Field throughout:
While he new Force to his incensed Men
Inspireth, and, Insatiable, agen
Exhorting, fires their Thoughts by boasting, He
A present Witness to each Man would be,
And ev'ry Person by his Actions know,
And what Right-Hand a singing Dart did throw.

Now, from their Works, the Legions Varro drew,
From whence the Rise of their Destruction grew;
While joyfull Charon busily made Room,
In his pale River, for the Souls to come.
The Van, affrighted at the Signs of Blood
Upon the hanging Shield, like Statues, stood:

252

Fix'd at the Omen. Near to that, a Face
Of Dread, two Bodies dead in their Embrace.
The fatal Wound within his Father's Breast,
With his Right-Hand, the Son, to hide it, prest.
At this they wept, and then (Alass!) too late
Lament Mancînus in his Brother's Fate.
Then the sad Augury, and Looks alike,
In the dead Bodies, a fresh Sorrow strike;
At length, their Errour's Guilt, and Fates to be
Lamented, and the Arms, that bid them flee
The Battel, to their General they show.
His Thoughts now all a fire; To Paulus go
With these (said He) for him (whose Fears now stand
In his unmanly Breast) that guilty Hand
May move, which, stain'd with cruel Slaughter, when
The Furies Punishment demanded, then
Perhaps, with's Father's Blood this Charm did write.
This said, with Threats, his Orders for the Fight
Through all the Army run, with Speed: and where
Nealces led his Barb'rous Nations, there
Himself with Marsians, Samnites, and with those
The Iapygians sent, He doth oppose.
But, in the Middle of the Field, where he
Perceiv'd the Libyan General to be
Against him, he Servilius commands,
To lead the Umbrian, and Picenian Bands.
Paulus the right Wing led, and beside these,
T'attend the Plots of nimble Nomades,
Scipio, a party took, with Charge, where e're
He spy'd their Troops within the Plains appear,
He should Advance, and Fight. Both Armies now
Drew near, and by the Running to, and fro,
The confus'd Neighing of the fiery Steeds,
And clashing Arms, a sudden Murmur spreads

253

It self through all the troubled Troops: as when
Loud Conflicts 'twixt the Winds, and Seas, begin
Their inward Rage; and Storms, that lave the Skies,
The Billows strait let loose: and, as they rise,
Their threatning Noise, through all the trembling Rocks,
From their Foundations shaken by the Shocks,
Expire; and Surges, from the Bottom thrown,
With angry Foam, the lab'ring Ocean Crown.

Nor was this cruel Storm of Fate alone
The Labour of the Earth, Dissension
Crept into Heav'n, and Gods to War incites.
Here Father Mars, and here Apollo fights,
And Neptune there: vext Cytherea here,
And Vesta, and Alcides angry, there,
For lost Sagunthus. Old Cybele too,
And Gods of Mortals made: Quirinus, who
First rais'd the Romane State; with Faunus: then
Pollux, that lately, with his Brother-Twin,
Had shifted his Alternate Life: but there,
Girt with a Sword, Saturnia doth appear;
And Pallas, 'mong the Libyan Waters born:
And Hammon too, whose Temples with an Horn
Are Circumflex'd, and many lesser Gods
Beside; who coming, from their bless'd Abodes,
To see this Fight, with their Approaches shook
The Earth; and all their sev'ral Stations took.
Some on the Neighb'ring Hills, while others shrow'd
Themselves, from Mortal Eys, within a Cloud.
The Heav'ns were empty left, while all to Wars
Descend: and strait to the forsaken Stars
As great a Clamour rose, as when, within
Phlegræan Plains, the Giants did begin
The Fight with Hercules; or Jove, for all
His Thunder-bolts, did on the Cyclops call,

254

When the bold Earth-born Army did invade
His Throne, and Mountains upon Mountains lai'd.
The Charge so fierce: no Dart, or Spear before
The rest was thrown; but an impetuous Showr
Of Shafts together fell, with equal Rage:
And, as they, thirsting after Blood, engage,
The Storm a Multitude of both destroy'd.
But, where the Sword more closely was imploy'd,
The greater Number dy'd: on whom the rest
Stood to maintain the Fight; and, as they prest
To strike a Fo, would spurn them as they groan.
The Sea as soon, with raging Billows thrown
'Gainst Calpe, might remove it from its Seat;
As all the Libyan Rage to a Retreat
Could force the Romanes: or the Romanes make
The Libyan Bands their Station to forsake.
So close they fight, no Space was left at all
For Blows to miss; or, when they dy'd, to fall:
Helmets 'gainst Helmets clash, and ev'ry Stroke
Excuss'd the hidden Flames. Targets are broke
'Gainst Targets, Swords by Swords are hack'd, and Feet
On Feet do tread; so furiously they meet:
Breasts against Breasts are bruis'd, and where they stood
Earth could not be discern'd, o'reflown with Blood:
And the thick Clouds of Arrows, as they fly,
Take from their Eys the Day, and hide the Sky.
Those of the second Rank, as if they fought
I'th' Front, with their long Pikes, and Lances, sought
To wound the Fo: and those, that farthest stood,
With missile Weapons labour'd to make good
The Fight, with those were foremost: all the rest,
With Clamour, their Desire to Fight exprest,
And, with their horrid Shouts, the Enemy
Provoke. And now all sorts of Weapons fly:

255

Some hard'ned Stakes, Pines burning others fling,
And weighty Piles. These Fatal Pellets sling;
Those Darts: and, which would shake the strongest Wall,
Huge Stones from the Phalarick Engines fall:
And through the Clouds the singing Arrows fly.
How can I hope (ye Goddesses whom I
Religiously adore) this Day to show
To future Times? Can you such Pow'r allow
(Ye Learned Virgins) to my Mortal Song?
And trust the Cannæ to a single Tongue?
If you affect our Fame, nor shall decline
To give Assistance to our high Design;
Hither from your Parnassus, hither all
Your Sacred Lays, and Father Phœbus call.
But maist thou (Noble Romane) still appear
As Constant, and thy future Triumphs bear
With as great Courage, as Adversity
Thou then didst meet! Such maist Thou ever be!
Nor tempt the Gods to try, if those, that are
Deriv'd from Troy, can bear so great a War;
And thou (O Rome) no more with Tears deplore
Thy dubious Fate; but rather, now, adore
Those Wounds, that shall Eternal Praise to Thee
Produce: for thou shalt never Greater be;
But sink in thy Success, and by the Name
Of former Miseries defend Thy Fame.

Now Fortune, shifting Sides, between them went,
Deluding, with sad Doubts of the Event,
The Rage of Both; and furious Mars, so long
As Hope, between, in equal Ballance hung,
Rag'd in their Arms alike. So have I seen
The standing Corn, while yet the Stems were green,
Mov'd by a gentle Wind, wave to, and fro,
The Weighty Ears, which, as they Nodding go

256

To this Side, then to that, alternately
The sev'ral Motions of the Wind obey.

At length Nealces, with confused Shouts,
Brings on his Barb'rous Troops; and, Charging, routs
The adverse Wing: the Ranks disorder'd, through
The Intervals, the fierce victorious Fo
Breaks on the trembling Files; and strait a Flood,
(That like a Torrent rush'd) of reeking Blood
Runs on the Plain. None, falling, are by Spears
Thrust on their Faces: for the Romane fears
Wounds on the Back, and on his Breast receives
His cruel Death, and Life with Honour leavs.
Among the first, affecting still to be
I'th' hottest of the Fight, and equally
To meet all Dangers, stood brave Scævola;
Who, scorning to survive so sad a Day,
Sought worthy his great Ancestour to fall,
And dy beneath that Name: perceiving all
Was lost, Our Life, how short soe're it be,
Now in despight of Fate, let Us (said he)
Extend. For Valour is an empty Name;
Unless, in Death's Approach, a lasting Fame
By suff'ring bravely, or by Wounds, we gain
Surviving Honour. Speaking thus, amain
Into the Midst, where the fierce Libyan's Hand
Cut out his Way, through those, that did withstand,
He, like a Tempest, falls; and, there he slew
Tall Calathis, and with his Sword quite through
His Body pierc'd, as boasting, he put on
The Arms of one there slain: strait down upon
The Ground he tumbles, biting with his Teeth
The Hostile Arms; the Tortures of his Death
By that suppressing, as he groveling lay.
Neither could Gabar, or stout Sicha stay,

257

With their joint Valour, his Impetuous Rage.
For valiant Gabar, as he did engage,
Lost his Right Hand, but Sicha, mad with Grief,
And coming rashly on to his Relief,
Stumbling by Chance upon his Sword, doth wound
His Naked Foot, by which upon the Ground
He falls, and by the Hand of's dying Friend
Lies prostrate. This his Fury, in the end,
Nealces fatal Rage upon him brought,
Who, by so great a Name incited, sought
The Honour of his Fall, and strait a Stone,
Torn from the Neigh'bring Rock, and tumbled down
By the swift Torrent, from the Mountain, took,
And threw it at his Face: his Jaws were broke
Asunder with the Weight; his Face no more
Its Form retains: mix'd with thick Clots of Gore,
His Brains flow through his Nose, and both his Eys
Dash'd from his mangled Front, he falls, and dyes.
Then Marius fell, endeav'ring to relieve
Casper his Friend, and fearfull to survive
His Death: Both Youths, in Age alike, both poor
Alike, and both Sacred Præneste bore:
They joyn'd their Labours, and both jointly till'd
Their Neighb'ring Fields, they both refus'd, and will'd
Still the same things; their Minds alike, through all
Their Life. A Wealthy Concord in a Small
Estate. They fell together, and expir'd
In Fight together, as they both desir'd.
Their Arms, the Trophy of Simethus were.
But such a Benefit of Fortune there
The Libyan could not long enjoy. For now
The valiant Scipio with a threatning Brow
Came on (sore griev'd to see his Cohorts fly)
And Varro (Cause of all their Misery)

258

With Curio yellow hair'd, and Brutus, from
The first great Consul sprung, that rescued Rome;
These by their Valour, had the Field regain'd,
Had not the Libyan General restrain'd
With a fierce Charge, his Troops, about to fly.
Who when far off, He Varro did espy
Engag'd, and near him moving to, and fro,
The Lictour, in his Scarlet Coat, I know
That Pomp, I know the Ensigns of your State
(Said He) such your Flaminius was of late;
Thus speaking, by the Thunder of his Shield,
His Fury he Proclaims, through all the Field.
Oh wretched Varro! Thou might'st there have dy'd
With Paulus, had not angry Heav'n deny'd
That thou by Hannibal, should'st there be slain.
How often to the Gods mightst thou complain,
That thou did'st scape the Libyan Sword? For there
Bringing thy Safety, when thou did'st dispair
Of Life, upon Himself brave Scipio all
The Danger turn'd: nor was fierce Hannibal
Unwilling (though by that Diversion, He
The Honour of Opimous Victory
Had lost) Thee for a greater Fo to change,
And by that offer'd Combat, to Revenge
On Him, the Rescue of his Father, near
Ticinus. Now the Champions both appear
From sev'ral Quarters of the World, then whom
Earth never yet beheld two Greater come
Within the Lists; in Strength, and Courage held
Both equal; but the Romane Prince excell'd
In Piety, and Faith. Then from the Cloud
(Wherein from Mortal Eys, the Gods did shroud
Themselves) leap'd forth (to view the Fight more near)
For Scipio, Mars, and Pallas, full of Fear,

259

For Hannibal. The Champions both abide
Undaunted, but their Entrance terrifi'd
The Armies. Round about thick gloomy Fires,
Where Pallas moves, her Gorgon's Mouth expires,
And dreadfull Serpents hiss upon her Shield:
Her Eys, like two great Comets, through the Field
Disperse a Bloody Light, and to the Skies,
From her large Crest, the waving Flames arise.

But Mars, the Air disturbing with his Spear,
And cov'ring with his Shield the Plain, doth wear
His Mail; which, by the Lab'ring Cyclops made,
Ætnean Flames through all the Field displai'd:
And, with his radiant Cask, doth, rising, strike
The Stars. The Champions, on the Fight, alike
Intent, though traversing with watchfull Eys
Their Ground, perceiv'd the Armed Deities
Approach; and, glad that they Spectatours were,
Increas'd the Fury of their Minds. And here
A Jav'lin Pallas from the Libyan's Side
Lets fly, with a strong Force: which, soon espy'd
By Mars, instructed to afford his Aid,
By that Example of the furious Maid;
Strait his Ætnean Sword into the Hands
O'th' Youth, he puts, and greater things Commands.
At this the Maid incens'd, her Visage burn'd
In Flames of Rage, and She so strangely turn'd
Her glaring Eys, that in her Dreadfull Look
She Gorgon overcame: as then, She shook
Her Ægis, all her Snakes their Bodies rear'd,
And, at her first Assault, ev'n Mars appear'd
A little to give Ground: the Goddess still
Pursu'd, and Part of the adjoyning Hill,
Torn up, with all the Stones, that on it grew,
'Gainst Mars, with all her Force, and Fury, threw.

260

The Horrour of its Fall, diffused o're
The Plain, frights Sasson with a trembling Shore.

But, when the King of Gods this Fight's Intent
Perceiv'd, involv'd in Clouds, He Iris sent,
With Speed, their too great Fury to allay,
And thus instructs her. Goddess, haste away
To the Oenotrian Land, and there her Rage
Command thy Sister Pallas to asswage;
Bid her not hope to change the fix'd Decree
Of Fate: and likewise tell Her, that, if She
Desist not (for the Poison, and the Fire
Of Her fierce Minde I know) and check her Ire,
Against the Romane, She shall understand,
How much the dreadfull Thunder of my Hand
Excells her Ægis. When Tritonia knew
This, a long time Uncertain what to do,
And doubtfull in her Thoughts, if She should yield!
T'Her Father's Arms: Well, We will quit the Field
(Said She) but, when W' are thus expuls'd, will Jove
Hinderus to behold from Heav'n above
Garganus Fields reeking with Blood. This said:
Under an hollow Cloud, the furious Maid
To other Places of the Battel took
The Libyan General, and Earth forsook.

But Mars, the Goddess gone, recalls again
Their Courage, and, dispers'd through all the Plain,
(Encompass'd with a Cloud, as black as Night)
With his own Hand, strait recollects the Fight.
The Romanes now their Ensigns turn, and, Fear
Quite lai'd aside, the Slaughter ev'ry where
Renew. Then Æolus, who o're the Winds
Is King, and them within a Prison binds,
Who Boreas, Eurus, Corus, Notus, and
The Rest, ev'n Heav'n-disturbing, doth Command,

261

At Juno's Suit, whose Promises were great,
Furious Vulturnus (whose Imperial Seat
Is in th'Æolian Plains) into the Fight
Let's loose: (for then the Goddess took Delight
By him to vindicate her cruel Ire)
He having div'd in Ætna deep, and Fire
Conceiv'd, strait raising up his flaming Head
Into the Air, with horrid Roaring fled
From thence, and through the Daunian Kingdoms blows
Clouds of congested Dust, and, where He goes,
The dark'ned Air from all, (as if the Day
Were spent) their Sight, Hands, Voices took away.
Then 'gainst th'Italians Faces Globes of Sand
(Sad to relate) he drives; and his Command
To fight against them doth with Rage pursue;
And, with that Weight of Ruin, overthrew
The Souldiers, Arms, and Trumpets, and reverts
Upon the Rutuli their flying Darts,
And frustrates, with his adverse Blasts, their Blows:
But all the Weapons, that the Libyan throws,
He seconds; and their Jav'lins, and their Spears,
As with the Loop assisting, forward bears.
The Souldiers, now, chok'd with thick Dust, and Breath
Stopp'd 'twixt their Jaws, that poor, ignoble Death
Lament; while, hiding in the troubled Air
His yellow Head, and, strewing all his Hair
With Sand, Vulturnus, with his roaring Wings,
Sometimes flies at their Backs, and sometimes flings
Himself against their Faces, in a Storm,
That whistling loud whole Cohorts doth disarm:
Some, that press'd on, and ready, with a Blow,
To fix i'th' Throat of the now-yielding Fo,
Their Swords he, in the very Stroak, withstands,
And, entring to a Wound, pulls back their Hands.

262

Nor was't enough, that thus the Romane Arms,
And Men, he spoil'd; but with loud bellowing Storms,
'Gainst Mars himself, his Fury he exprest
And twice with Whirl-wind shook his lofty Crest.

While thus Æolian Fury did engage
The Latine Troops, and Mars provok'd to Rage:
Pallas, near whom Saturnia stood, to Jove
Thus speaks. Behold! What Billows Mars doth move
Against the Libyans! With what Slaughters he
Himself doth glut! Is't not your Will (said She)
I pray, that Iris now to Earth descend?
Though I, when I was there, did not intend
The Teucri to destroy (for let your Rome
Reign with my Pledg, and my Palladium
There still remain) yet was I loath the Light
Of my dear Libya, Hannibal, should quite
Extinguish'd be, or that, in Prime of all
His Years, so Great Beginnings now should full:
Here Juno took the Word, and, from a Sence
Of her long Labours, Yes (said She) that hence
The World may know, how great Jove's Empire is,
How much his Pow'r, how much his Wife by this
All other Gods excells! Now let thy Firé
The Tow'rs of Carthage, (nothing We desire)
Destroy: the Tyrian Army sinking down,
Through gaping Earth, in Stygian Waters drown;
Or else o'rewhelm them in the Neighb'ring Main.
To whom Jove mildly thus replies. In vain
You strive with Fate, and feeble Hopes prolong,
That Youth (Oh Daughter!) against whom so strong,
So furious thou didst fight, shall overcome
The Africans, and shall from that assume
That Nation's Name, and shall transport withall
The Libyan Lawrel to the Capitol.

263

And He, on whom such Courage (Wife) by thee
Such Honour is bestow'd (so Fates decree)
Shall turn his Arms from the Laurentine Land,
Nor do the Limits of his Mischief stand
Far off; the Day, and Hour approach, with Haste,
Wherein Hee'l wish, that he no Alps had past.
This said, He Iris sends away with Speed
To charge the God of War, he should Recede,
Aud quit the Fight. He not at all contends
With those Commands, but, murmuring, ascends
Into the Clouds, though Trumpets in the Fight,
Wounds, Blood, and Arms, and Clamours him delight.

The Gods no more contending, and the Plain,
Now clear'd from Mars, the Libyan again,
From the Remotest Part, where he to shun
Celestial Arms, retir'd, came furious on;
And, with loud Shouts, along his Foot, and Horse,
His Towred Elephants, and all the Force
Of's batt'ring Engines drew, and as he spy'd
A Valiant Youth, that with his Sword destroy'd
His lighter Troops, his Anger, sparkling in
His Bloody Cheeks, What God (said He) agen,
Or what dire Furies Thee, Minutius, thus
Drive, on thy Fo? That thou, once more to Us,
Dar'st trust thy self? Where now is Fabius, made
Thy Father by Our Arms, to give thee Aid?
Wretch! 'tis sufficient once to scape from Me;
With this proud Language, He a Lance lets flee,
That swift, as from an Engine thrown, his Breast
Peirc'd through, and with the Stroak, his Speed supprest.
Nor is't enough the Sword doth Rage: they send
Fierce Beasts, and the Italian Youth contend
With Monsters. For, well mounted, Lucas Rid
Up to the Moor, that with his Spear did guide

264

The Elephants, commanding him t'excite,
With greater Speed, the Heard into the Fight.
The warlike Beasts, then driv'n on, and goar'd
With frequent Wounds, made Haste, and strangely roar'd:
With Flames, and Men, and Darts, the lofty Tow'rs
On their pale backs were arm'd, whence furious showrs
Of Stones fell on the Troops, and where they move
Thick Storms of Shafts (as from the Clouds above)
The Libyans from their flying Castles throw;
While a long Wall of Teeth (as white as Snow)
Runs through the Ranks, and, with their Points declin'd,
From the bow'd Top, the Spears of Iv'ry shin'd.
Here, among others, full of Fear, a Youth,
Call'd Ufens, through his Armour, by the Tooth
Of one of them was struck, and born through all
The troubled Ranks; while he in Vain doth call
For Help, the Point, where, quilted thick, was ty'd
His Breast-Plate, lightly pierc'd by his Left-Side,
And, his unwounded Body lifting high,
Clash'd 'gainst his Shield. His Magnanimity,
The sudden Danger not at all dismaies:
But, turning that Mis-fortune to his Praise,
Now, near the Forehead of the furious Beast,
Through both his Eys his Sword he quickly prest.
When strait enraged by the fatal Wound,
Rising upright, she tumbles to the Ground,
The Tow'r drawn backward by its Weight: and then
The Elephant depriv'd of Sight, the Men
And Arms (a Spectacle of Terrour) all
Are crush'd together in her sudden fall.

The yet-prevailing Romane to withstand
The Fury of these Monsters, gives Command,
That burning Torches wheresoe're they go,
Should be oppos'd, and Sulph'rous Flames to throw

265

Into their Tow'rs. This, with all Speed, obey'd,
The Elephants they suddenly invade:
Whose smoaking Backs, with Flames collected shin'd,
That, driv'n on by the Tempestuous Winde,
Through their high Bulwarks Fire, devouring, spred:
As when on Rhodope, or Pindus Head,
A Shepheard scatters Fire; and through the Groves,
And Woods, like an hot Plague, it raging moves:
The leavy Rocks are fir'd; and all the Hills,
Leaping now here, now there, bright Vulcan fills.
But, when the burning Sulphur once begun
To parch their Skins, th'unruly Monsters run,
Like mad, and drive the Cohorts from their Stand:
Neither durst Any undertake, at Hand,
To fight them; but their Darts, and Jav'lins throw
At Distance: burning, they impatient grow,
And, through the Heat of their vast Bodies, here,
And there, the scatter'd Flames encreasing bear;
Till by the smooth adjoining Stream, at last,
Deceiv'd, themselves into 't, they Headlong cast,
And with them all their Flames, that still appear
'Bove the tall Banks, till both together, there,
In the deep Chanel of the Flood expire.

But, where the Fight continued still, nor Fire
Had vex'd the Elephants, from fatal Hands
Now Darts, now Stones, on the Rheteian Bands,
And winged Lead, at Distance fall, like Hail.
As when an Army doth a Fortress scale
Through steep Ascents, or storms a fenced Tow'r.
Worthy himself, and a more happy Hour,
Here Mutius rais'd his Hand, and nearer goes,
(In his Attempt unhappy) to oppose
Their Fury with his Sword; but, with a Breath
Expiring Heat, and Murmurs threatning Death,

266

A furious Monster caught him from the Ground,
And in her winding Trunk his Body bound;
Which toss'd, aloft, into the Air, and lash'd
Oft 'gainst the Earth, was all to Pieces dash'd.

Amidst these Slaughters, soon, as Paulus spy'd
Varro in Arms, upbraiding him, he cry'd;
Now let us meet with Hannibal, whom Thou
Plac'd fore thy Chariot, bound in Chains, didst vow
To give the City, Oh unhappy Rome!
And People, fatal in thy Favour! whom
From the foul Guilt of so great Ills no Time
Can e're absolve, or purge Thee from this Crime.
Which shouldst thou, rather, wish had ne're been born
Varro, or Hannibal? Thus, with sad Scorn,
While Paulus spoke, the Libyan furiously
Advancing, at the Backs of them, that fly
(Ev'n in their Gen'ral's View) all Shafts provokes.
The Consul's Helmet, by their furious Stroaks
Bruis'd, and his Arms all shatter'd, Paulus throws
Himself, more fierce at this, among his Foes.
But Varro, having lost his Courage quite,
(While Paulus to another Place the Fight
Pursu'd) strait wheels about, and, with his Hand
Turning his Horse, said; Thou dost justly stand
Corrected, Rome, that did'st to Varro give
Command in War while Fabius is alive.
But now, what civil Discord in my Minde,
What sad Dissension of my Fate, I finde?
What secret Fraud of Destinies? I all
These Torments will determine in my Fall.
But, Oh! some God my Sword withholds, and Me
Reserves (Alass!) for greater Misery!
Shall I live then? and to the Tribes agen
The Fasces, stain'd with Blood of Countrey-Men,

267

And broken thus return? And, as I go,
My Face to other angry Cities show?
Or, (then which Nought more Cruel could for Me
By Hannibal be wish'd) fly hence, and Thee,
Oh Rome! behold? More his distracted Fear
Had utter'd; but the Enemy drew Near,
And Charging him more Close with Darts, his Steed
Snatch'd the loose Reins, and fled the Field with Speed.

The End of the Ninth Book.

269

The Tenth Book.

The Argument.

Paulus great Valour, and what Slaughters he
At Cannæ made. He is advis'd to flee;
But Thoughts of Flight rejects. By Hannibal,
Christa, with his six Sons, together fall.
Servilius, by Viriathus slain,
By Paulus Hand is soon reveng'd again;
And, fighting 'midst his Foes, at length he dies:
The Libyan Celebrates his Obsequies,
Commends his Valour, and his Noble End.
Their Counsels, who their Countrey did intend
To quit, by Scipio are suppress'd. To Rome,
Without all Pomp, doth Consul Varro come.
The Multitude, incens'd against him, are
By Fabius appeas'd. The Slaves for War
Are Arm'd: the Senate passeth a Decree,
That none, that Captiv'd are, shall ransom'd be.

When Paulus saw, the Adverse Fight encreas't;
As, when, with Spears encompass'd, a wilde Beast
Leaps on their Points, and by his Wounds doth know,
Where to direct his Rage, and choose a Fo:

270

Into the thickest of the Globes he goes,
And to all Dangers doth himself expose,
And seeks a Death from ev'ry valiant Hand:
Upbraiding thus his flying Men; Oh! stand,
Stand stoutly to 't, and in your Breasts receive
The Sword; nor, wounded in your Backs, thus leave
The World: there nothing now remains, at all,
For Us, but the sole Glory of our Fall.
Me, to the Shades below, you all shall finde
Your Leader. Then swift, as the Northern Winde,
Or winged Shafts (which, in dissembled Flight,
The Parthian backward shoots into the Fight)
And, where, unmindfull of his tender Age,
Pætus (like Mars, in Courage) did engage,
He rush'd into the mid'st of all his Foes,
And the Youth, whom light Vascons did enclose;
And fierce Cantabrians did with Darts surround,
Freed from their cruel Arms: while they gave Ground,
And Trembling fled. As when a Goat, in View,
Through a large Plain, the Huntsmen close pursue;
And, in the Chase, the weary Beast so nigh
Approach, they think to catch't: if suddenly,
Gnashing his Teeth, a Lyon, from his Den,
Before their Eys appears; their Colour, then,
And Blood flies from their Cheeks, their Weapons all,
Inferiour to their Danger, they let fall,
And, flying, think no more upon their Prey.
Now, with his Sword, on such, as in his Way
Oppose, he press'd: and such, whom baser Fear
Made fly, with Darts he follows in the Rear.
Fury, and Rage delight him; and, to Crown
His Deeds with Honour, by his Hand alone
A multitude of Nameless People fall.
And, if another Paulus, there, 'mong all

271

The Dardan Troops had been Cannæ its Name
Had surely lost, and Hannibal his Fame,
At length, his Wing declin'd; and suddenly
The Front gives Way, and all together fly.
There Labienus fell, whom Cingulum
Sent from her lofty Walls: there Ocris, whom,
With Opiter, Vine-bearing Setia sent,
From fertile Hills. Their Deaths were different,
Though the Sidonian join'd the Time: for there,
Shot through the Hip, fell Labienus; here
One through the Shoulder, t'other through the Knee
The Brothers, wounded, him accompany.
And there Mecænas; who, of antient Fame,
Through the Mæonian Land, his Noble Name
From Tyrrhen Kings deriv'd, wounded quite through
The Groin, a Tyrian Jav'lin, likewise Slew.
But, through the thickest, Paulus, scorning all
Desires of Life; and, seeking Hannibal,
Charg'd furiously, and thought his Destiny
Could onely cruel be, if he should dy,
And Hannibal survive. Fearing this Rage
(For that, if once in Fight they did engage,
So great a Storm, and Tempest could not be
Without great Mischief) Juno instantly,
Frighted Metellus Shape assuming, Why
Consul (said She) sole Hope of Italy!
Dost thou Renew thy Rage in Vain, while Fate
Resists? if Paulus live, the Romane State
May stand; if otherwise, thou draw'st with Thee
All Italy. Oh Paulus! Can it be
That thou wilt, while the State thus totters, go
To hazard 'gainst so insolent a Fo
Thy Sacred Head? For, now, so flush'd in War
Is Hannibal, that with the Thunderer

272

He dares contend: and Varro (I beheld,
When first He wheel'd about) hath left the Field,
Himself reserving for a better Day.
Allow the Fates their Time, and, while you may,
From Death redeem your Soul, that's greater far
Then Ours; You soon may have another War.
To this, with Sighs, the General reply'd.
And is't not Cause enough (if Nought beside
Did move Me) that I now should wish to dy
In Arms, when to an Act, so Monstrous, I
Metellus urging hear? Thou, Fool! away.
Fly; Oh! fly hence with Speed, nor (Heav'n I pray)
Thee in the Back may Hostile Weapons wound!
But with thy Varro mayst thou safe, and sound,
Enter the Walls of Rome! Dost Thou think Me
Worthy so base a Life, and not to be
As worthy (Coward) of a Nobler End:
Because the Libyan, who dares contend
(Forsooth!) with Jove, permits it? Oh, thou base
Degen'rate Issue of a Valiant Race!
When should I choose to fight? With whom should I
Desire to Cope, but such an One, that by
My Hand subdu'd, or I by his, might give
To Me a Name, that after Death shall live?

Thus chiding, 'mong his Foes himself he threw:
And, as Acherras covertly withdrew
From the throng'd Maniples, and sought Retreat
To the Main Body, with more nimble Feet,
Him through the thickest Ranks, with Targets fill'd,
And constipated Arms, pursu'd, and kill'd.

So Belgick Hounds an hidden Boar pursue,
And with Sagacious Noses, drown'd in Dew,
Through devious Ways, the doublings of the Beast
Detect, and all his Footsteps closely prest,

273

Through thickest Groves, where Hunts-men cannot come
To beat, still follow, nor desist they from
The Chase, untill they have him in the Winde,
And, in some Thicket, close at Covert, finde.

When Juno saw, that Paulus could not be
By Words diverted, but went on, strait She
Gelastes Shape puts on, and Hannibal,
As Slow, exciting, thus to Fight doth call.
This way thy Weapons turn; hither thine Aid,
Eternal Fame of Carthage, bring (She said)
To such, as it implore: the Consul near
The River fights, and horrid Slaughter there
Commits: nor canst thou greater Honour gain
By any Fo, that shall by Thee be slain.
Thus She to sev'ral Conflicts doth divide
The furious Youth; while, near the River's Side,
Old Christa, with's six Sons, their valiant Hands
Employ'd, and sore opprest the Libyan Bands.
Tuder, where he was born, no wealthy Town
Was held, yet (not Obscure) was of Renown,
As Warlike, 'mong the Umbrian People, where
Her Youth in Feats of Arms, and Slaughters, were
Train'd up; whence this old, chearfull Captain led
A Valiant Phalanx: who, when they had fed
Their Swords with Humane Slaughter, overthrew,
With frequent Wounds, an Elephant, and to
Her Fall add Flames, that instantly devour
(A joyfull Sight to them) her armed Tower
When, strait, an Helmet's Lightning struck their Eys,
And they perceiv'd the trembling Plumes to rise
On the large Crest. Old Christa, by that Light,
Soon knew the Man, and drew into the Fight,
His Troop of Sons, commands them all to throw
Their Darts, and not to fear the Flames, that flow

274

From his fierce Countenance, or burning Crest.
As, when an Eagle, carefull, in her Nest,
To nourish such a Brood, as may be fit
To bear Jove's Arms, against the Sun doth set
Their Faces, and, by their undazled Eys,
Through those bright Rays, her doubtfull Issue tries.

And now, to teach the rest, what they should do,
With a weak Force, a single Dart he threw;
Which (though it Nimble past the middle Air)
But lightly pierc'd his Golden Mail, and there
Stuck loosely, and by that weak Stroak betrai'd
The old Man's Hand. To whom the Libyan said,
What Rage thy Hand, with Age now bloodless grown,
To vain Attempts provokes? Thy Cornel thrown
So feeble is, that our Callaick Gold
It scarce can raze: thy Weapons now, behold!
I, thus, to Thee return. Better by Me
In War the Memorable Youth shall be
Instructed. Speaking thus, He forward prest,
And pierc'd, with his own Dart, old Christa's Breast.
But, from the other Side, six Darts are thrown,
From six Right Hands; and then six Spears come on,
With equal Fury. As, in Libya, when
A Lyoness is chas'd into her Den,
Her angry Whelps leap forth, and strive, in Vain,
With tender Teeth, the Combat to maintain.

But Hannibal, with Arms encompass'd round,
Consum'd their Shafts, and weighty Spears (that sound
At ev'ry Stroak with Horrour, through the Field)
Strongly sustains, and with his batter'd Shield
Repells: nor can those many Wounds, that he
Hath giv'n, nor all those Slaughters satisfie
His Rage; unless He with the Father join
The Sonsin Death, and quite cutoff the Line.

275

Then Abaris, who bore his Arms, and there
Enflam'd the Fight, and him did ev'ry where
Attend, He calls: With Shafts supply Me still;
For there's a Troop, that must be sent to Hell,
And frets with Darts my Mail: they, instantly,
Shall finde the Fruits of Foolish Piety.
This said; the Eldest (Lucas) with a Dart
He penetrates: the Point prest through his Heart,
Upon his Brother's Arms He backward sinks:
Next Volso, who, in Haste advancing, thinks
To draw the Fatal Weapon from the Wound,
A Pile (that 'mong the Dead, by Chance, he found)
He, through his Beaver, strikes into his Nose:
Then Vesulus, who slipping, as he goes,
Faln in his Brother's Blood, he with his Sword
Cuts off, and (barb'rous Valour, and abhorr'd)
His Helmet, fill'd with his dissever'd Head,
Flung, like a Missile Shaft, at those that fled.
Next Telesinus, strucken with a Stone,
Upon the Back, where to the twisted Bone
The Joints are Knit, fell, and beheld withall
His Brother Quercens, by a Sling, to fall,
Dead to the Ground, while he expires the Light
Of Life, and shuts his dubious Eys in Night.
But Perusinus, weary through his Fear,
Running, and Grief, though still he angry were,
With feeble Steps, retiring through the Plain,
And, sometimes standing to resist, was slain
By a Fire-hard'ned Stake, which he, that bare
The Arms of Hannibal, snatch'd newly there,
From a slain Elephant: the half-burnt Oak
Fix'd deep into his Groin; the furious Stroak
Turn'd him upon his back. His cruel Rage
The Youth, with Pray'rs, endeavour'd to asswage:

276

But, as he gap'd, his Mouth with Stygian Fire
Is fill'd, and in his Lungs the Flames expire.
At length, with all the rest, Christa, a Name
Through all the Umbrian Land, of antient Fame,
Fell, like a lofty Oak, that long had stood
Observ'd, and Holy in its Native Wood,
When struck by Jove, and sulph'rous Flames devour
The Old, and Sacred Branches, to the Pow'r
O'th'Fire, at length it yields, and covers all
The Trees beneath it, in its spacious Fall.

While Hannibal thus rageth near thy Flood,
(Fam'd Aufidus) the Consul, with much Blood,
Having reveng'd his future Death, the War
Pursu'd, as if He had been Conquerour,
There lay huge Phorcus, 'mong a thousand Dead,
Come from Herculean Calpe: Gorgon's Head
Carv'd on his Shield, about that dreadfull Face
The Goddess's Original, and Race:
Him, daring to oppose, and vaunting high
The antient Names o'th'monstrous Family
Of Fam'd Medusa (whose dire Looks alone
Converted the Beholders into Stone)
As he, too forward, stoop'd, and at's left Thigh,
Too eager, reach'd, the Valiant Consul, by
The Helmet caught, and dragging Headlong down
Upon his Knees, deep in his Back doth drown
His Sword, where 'bout his Reins his Belt was bound:
He, from his gaping Bowels, on the Ground
Spews Streams of Blood, and the Ætolian Field,
To the Atlantick Prince, a Grave doth yield.

Amidst the Slaughters, furious in the Rear,
With sudden Terrour, other Troops appear,
And charging fiercely, unexpected, fall
Upon the Romanes. These had Hannibal

277

Instructed in all Fraud, and to that Art
Of Fighting train'd: who (faining to desert
The Punick Camp, arm'd with Deceit, their Hands,
And Arms had yielded) on the Romane Bands
Then Busie, in the Slaughter, with a Rage
United, fly, and all their Rear engage:
Nor did they Weapons want, Slaughter affords
A large Supply of Jav'lins, Darts, and Swords.
But Valiant Galba (whose still pious Love
To Virtue, no cross Fortune could remove)
Seeing an Ensign taken by the Fo,
Pursues with Speed, and with a fatal Blow
The Conqu'rour fells: but, striving to regain
The Eagle, which his dying Hands retain,
(And would let go, but slowly, at the Last)
Pierc'd by Amorgus Sword, who came in Haste
To's Friend's Relief, he fell, and in those great
Attemps, unhappy, sadly met his Fate.

But now, as if Enyo's Rage were still
Unsatisfi'd, Vulturnus, in one Hill
Of Dust, rolls all the Field; and the white Sand
Throws up: and such as Labour'd to withstand
His Fury, with strong Blasts, that strangely Roar,
To th'farthest Part of all the Champagne bore,
And 'gainst the Hollow Banks their Bodies thrown,
And bruis'd, within the swelling Flood did drown:
And, here, unhappy in his silent Fate,
The River Curio's Life doth terminate.
For, while, with inward Fury boiling, He
Labours to stop the Romane Troops, that flee,
And in their Way, himself opposing, stood,
Driv'n Headlong by the Throng into the Flood;
I'th'troubled Waves he sunk, and born away
Dead, in the Adrîack Sands, Inglorious, lay.

278

But the brave Consul, whose unshaken Minde
The worst of Ills could bear, who ne're inclin'd
To stoop to Fortune, meets the Conqu'ring Fo
With equal Fury, and himself doth throw
Amidst their thickest Arms; encourag'd by
A Martial Heat, and Confidence to dy:
When Viriathus, whom th'Iberian Land
Obey'd, pursuing with a Fatal Hand,
A Fo, now tyr'd, and weary'd in the Fight,
Near unto Raging Paulus, and in's Sight,
Cuts off. Oh Grief! Oh Tears! Servilius there,
Next Paulus, the best Part of all the War,
Fell by a barb'rous Hand, and in his Fall
Alone, with Envy, We may Cannæ call
Unfortunate. The Consul his sad Ire
No more endures, and, though the Winds conspire
To rob him of his Arms, and blind his Eys
With Dust, yet through a Cloud of Sand he flies,
And him, then tuning, (as 'tis us'd among
Th'Iberi) on his Shield a barb'rous Song,
Invades, and, through his left Pap driving, past
His Weapon to his Vitals: this the last
Of all his Slaughters was, no more could He
In Fight his Hand imploy: nor (Rome) for Thee,
In future Wars, must Noble Paulus stand.
For an huge Stone, thrown from a private Hand,
Dash'd on his Head, and deep into his Skull
His batter'd Helmet beats, and fills it full,
And all his Face with Blood: retreating then,
Against the Neighb'ring Rock as he doth lean,
Now almost choak'd with Dust, before his Face,
Besmear'd with Gore, his Target he doth place,
Like a fierce Lyon (lighter Shafts represt,
And scorn'd) when, piercing deep into his Breast,

279

At length he feels the Steel, amidst the Field
He trembling stands, and patiently doth yield
To ev'ry Weapon: while about his Nose,
His Jaws, and Main, a bloody Riv'let flows;
And, sometimes, turning his weak Limbs about,
From his wide Mouth, he foaming Goar doth spout.

But, then, fierce Hannibal spurs on his Steed,
Where e're the Storm, or Conqu'ring Sword doth lead;
Where furious Troops, and where those Monsters are,
That with their Iv'ry Teeth maintain the War.
Here, overwhelm'd with Darts when Piso spy'd,
The Libyan Captain over Bodies ride,
Raising himself Upright upon his Spear,
Pierc'd through his Horse's Flank, attempting there
(In Vain) to leap upon him being down.
To whom the angry Libyan (who soon
Himself recover'd, though his Plunging Steed
Pitch'd him upon his Shoulder) When they're Dead,
Do thus the Romane Ghosts revive (said He)
To fight? In Death nor will they Quiet be?
This said, into his Body, as He strives
To rise, up to the Hilts, his Sword he drives.

But, his Foot wounded with a Cretan Shaft,
As Lentulus, full Speed, on Horse-back left
The Field; the Stones besmearing with his Blood,
And, with a stern Aspect, to th'Stygian Flood
Sinking he Paulus spy'd: at that sad Sight,
His Mind's distracted, He's asham'd of Flight.
Then Rome appears to burn, and Hannibal
Ev'n at the Gates to stand: then, first of all,
The Field, that Italy devour'd, He saw.
What then remain'd, but the next Day might draw
The Tyrians to the Town? At length, he spake
To Paulus, thus; Dost Thou the Helm forsake

280

In such Distress? The Gods my Witness are,
Unless thou guid us through this cruel War,
And live (though 'gainst thy Will) in such a Storm,
Paulus, (Grief made his Language sharp) more Harm,
Then Varro, Thou wilt do. Then take, I pray,
(Of Rome's now sinking State Thou onely Stay)
This Horse: upon my Shoulders I will take
Thee up, and set Thee safe upon his Back.

As this he spake, the Consul, spitting Blood,
From his torn Mouth, replies: Go on, make good
Thy Father's Virtues; why should we despair,
So long, as such brave Souls remaining are
In Romulus his Empire? Spur thy Steed,
Which Way thy Wounds permit thee. Let with speed
The City-Gates be shut; for suddenly
This sad Destruction to the Walls will fly;
And (pray) advise, that Fabius may Command
In Chief: blind Rage my Counsel did withstand.
And what of my spent Life remaineth now;
But that to the rude Multitude I show,
That Paulus dares, and knows well how to Dy?
For, thus consum'd with Wounds, to them shall I
Be born? What would the Libyan give, that Me,
Turning my Back in Fight, He once might see?
Paulus hath no such Thoughts: nor will I go
So poor a Soul unto the Shades below.
No, I am one: but why do I delay
Thee thus, with mild Complaints? Haste thee away,
Hence quickly with thy Steed, with Service spent.

With this grave Charge, strait to the City went
Sad Lentulus: nor yet did Paulus dy
Without Revenge; but, as when, mortally
Wounded, a Tiger doth, at length, retreat,
And falls to struggle with approaching Fate,

281

He opens wide his weary Jaws to bite
In vain, and in Attempts, beneath the Height
Of his great Rage, licks, onely, with his Tongue
The Lances, and the Darts against him flung.

And now Ilerthes, who insulting near
Approach'd, and shook, secure of Wounds, his Spear,
He rising, with his sudden Sword, doth wound;
And, then, for the Sidonian Captain, round
About him, looks, desiring in his Hands
To quit his strugling Soul: but strait the Bands
Of Nomades, of Garamantians, Moors,
With Celtians, and Asturians, thick Showr's
Of Darts upon him powr'd, on ev'ry Side,
Oppress the Man. Thus Noble Paulus dy'd;
Thus that high, valiant Heart, whom (if the War
He sole had rul'd) perhaps we might compare
With Fabius: his brave Death a Grace became
To Rome, and plac'd among the Stars his Name.

But, when the Romanes Hopes were lost, and all
Their Courage, ruin'd in the Consul's Fall;
To cruel Arms the Headless Army yield
Their Backs: Victorious Africk through the Field
Rageth in Blood: Picenian Cohorts here,
And Warlike Umbrians fall; Sicanian there,
And Hernick Troops: those Ensigns scatter'd are
Upon the Ground, which Samnites, fierce in War,
Which the Sarrastes, and the Marsi brought;
There Targets pierc'd quite through, &, as they fought
Broke each 'gainst others Shields, and Helmets lay
With useless Swords, and Bridles torn away
From the fierce Horse's Mouths: the Neighb'ring flood
Throws up his Billows, swelling high with Blood,
Into the Fields, and all the Bodies slain
Returns, with Fury, to the Banks again.

282

See a Lagæan Ship, that, Island-like,
Floats on the Sea, if it by Chance do strike
Upon a Rock, while cloudy Eurus blows,
And Shipwrack over all the Ocean throws,
Strait Planks, with Oars, and Tackle, and tall Masts,
Pendants, and Sails, torn with impetuous Blasts,
And miserable Sea-men, that again
Spew up the Waves, are scatter'd on the Main.

The Libyan, by His Slaughters in the Fight,
Had measur'd out the Day: but, as the Night
The Aid of Light to His great Rage deny'd,
At length, he lai'd the cruel War aside,
And from the Toil of Slaughter spar'd his Men:
But yet, with Cares, his Mind still wak'd: nor then,
Amidst such Favour of the Gods, could He
Endure to rest; His Thoughts continually
Prompt him to enter Rome: and the next day,
Thence with drawn Swords, in Haste, to march away,
Is his Design: while yet their Blood was warm,
And Slaughter stain'd the Troops. Now with His Arm
The Gates He seiseth, fires the Walls, and seems
To mix with Cannæ the Tarpeian Flames.

Conscious of Jove's Displeasure, and the Fate
Of Italy, Saturnia, troubled at
What He design'd, endeav'ring to restrain
The Youth's rash Heat, and in Desires so vain
To curb his greedy Hopes, strait from His deep,
And silent Empire, She the God of Sleep
(By whose Assistance, She had often clos'd
Jove's weary Eys, and them to Rest compos'd)
Summons, and, smiling, said; I call not Thee
(Great God) to hard Designs: nor that to Me
Thou give up Jove, by thy soft Wings subdued,
Do I require: nor, that thou shouldst delude

283

And shut, in Stygian Night, his thousand Eys,
That Iö kept, and did thy Power despise.
But into Hannibal new Dreams inspire;
Nor now to visit Rome let Him desire:
Or Walls forbid, where Jove denies, that He
Should enter. Her Commands he instantly
Pursues, and Poppy, in a crooked Horn,
Mix'd with some other Juice, through Darkness born,
He silently descends, and to the Tent
Of the Barcêan Prince directly went.
Then, hov'ring o're his drooping Head, he spreads
His drowsy Wings, and Slumber gently sheds,
Like Dew, into His Eys, and with his Hand
Unto His Temples the Lethean Wand
Applies; when suddenly prodigious Dreams
Possess his furious Breast: and now he seems
To compass Tyber, with his num'rous Bands:
But, as, insulting, at the Walls he stands
Of Rome, he, frighted, sees Immortal Jove
Shining, on the Tarpeian Rock, above,
And, in his threatning Hand, he Thunder shook,
While all the Neighb'ring Fields with Sulphur smoak;
Blew Anyo; in cold Waters, trembling lies,
And oft (a dreadfull Sight) before his Eys,
Flashes of Lightning fly, then through the Air
A Voice was spread; Thy Progress, Youth, forbear;
Thy Honour's great enough, that doth arise
From Cannæ, Thou as soon our Marble Skies
May'st cleave, as through those Sacred Walls (when storm'd
By Thee) break way. Thus Juno's Will perform'd,
Sleep left Him, terrifi'd with what He then
Had seen, and fearing greater Wars: nor, when
The Night was done, did Day absolve his Mind
From that dire Image, which it left behind.

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A midst these Troubles of His Sleep, and vain
Disturbance, Mago tells Him, they had ta'ne
The Romane Camp, by Night, and brought away,
With their remaining Troops, a wealthy Prey:
To Him then promising a joyfull Feast,
Within the Capitol, when, to devest
The World of Day, the fifth Night should arise,
The General, concealing the Advise
Of Heav'n, and His own Fears, their Wounds in Fight,
And Strength exhausted pleads, and that they might
Not be too Confident of their Success.
The Youth dejected from his Hopes, no less,
Then if he had commanded Him to flee,
Ev'n from the Walls, and draw from Victory
His Ensigns, said, With all this Toil, not Rome
(As She believ'd) but Varro's overcome:
By what sad Fate, so great Success in Fight
Dost Thou neglect, and thus Thy Countrey slight?
Let the Horse march with Me, and (I will Pawn
My Head) the Iliack Walls shall be Thine Own,
The Gates shall open'd be without a War.
While these by furious Mago urged are,
And by his wary Brother not believ'd,
The Latine Souldiers, flying, were receiv'd
Within Canusium's Walls, and there apace
Began to fortifie. Inglorious Face
Of sinking Fortune! there no Eagles stand,
No Ensigns 'mong the Troops, no high Command
Of Consuls, nor by Lictours Axes born.
But faint with Fear, and, as with Ruin torn,
And maim'd, their Bodies on weak Members strive
To keep their Stand: oft sudden Clamours rive
The Air, and oft deep Silence, with their Eys
Fix'd on the Ground: here naked Companies

285

With broken Targets stand; the Valiant there
Want Swords: then all the Horsemen wounded are;
From their high-crested Casks their glorious Pride
Was torn, and Mars his Honour lai'd aside.
Their Corslets pierc'd with many Spears, and in
Their Mails Maurusian Shafts were sometimes seen
To hang: sometimes they sadly call upon
Their Friends, were lost here Galba they bemoan,
Piso, and Curio, worthy of a far
More Noble Fate, and Scævola, in War
Most fierce; all these of Course: but Paulus Fate,
As of a common Father, they regrate,
How He ne're ceas'd, with Truth, their present Woes
To Prophesie, and Varro's Minde oppose:
How oft, in Vain, that Day from Rome He sought
To turn; and, then, how valiantly He fought.
But such, who Care of future Things do take,
Either are busi'd, 'bout the Walls to make
Their Trenches, or to fortifie the Gates,
(As Need requir'd) and where the Field dilates
A plain, and easie Entrance to the Foes,
Firm in the Earth they fix Fire-hardned Boughs,
Like Horns of Stags, and secretly beside,
To wound them in their March, they Calthrops hide.
'Bove all these Miseries, and Wounds, that are
Not to be cur'd, the Reliques of the War,
And such as 'scap'd the Fo, through impious Fear,
And a more fierce Erynnis mov'd, prepare
(The Climate chang'd) the Punick Arms, by Sea,
Sidonian Swords, and Hannibal to flee.
The Chief of this Design, for Exile, was
Metellus, sprung from no ignoble Race.
The wav'ring Winds of that degen'rate Crew
In War, to Counsels base, and strange, he drew:

286

To look for Lands, where they themselves might hide,
As in another World, and there abide,
Where they might never hear the Libyan's Name,
And whither their forsaken Countrie's Fame,
Might never come. But, when this News was brought
To Scipio, with like Rage, as when he fought
I'th'Field 'gainst Hannibal, his Sword he snatch'd,
And to the House, where they this Mischief hatch'd
'Gainst Italy, he hasts, and breaking down
The Doors; and, entring, with a dreadfull Frown,
Shaking his Sword, before their frighted Eys,
He thus begun: Thou Chief of Deities!
Who dwell'st on the Tarpeian Rock, a Seat,
The next to Heav'n! and Thou, Juno, not yet
Chang'd with the Woes of Troy, and thou fierce Maid
Upon whose dreadfull Ægis are displai'd
The Gorgon Furies, and you Gods, that sprung
From Mortals, and are willingly among
Our Deities ador'd, and (which by Me,
Is equal held to any Deity)
By my great Father's Head, I swear, I ne're
Will the Lavinian Land forsake, nor e're
Permit, that it forsaken be, while I
Survive. Now then Metellus instantly
Attest the Gods, that, if in Libyan Fire
These Walls shall burn, Thou never wilt retire
Into another Land: unless thou swear
To this; although arm'd Hannibal were here,
Whom Thou dost dread, the Fear of whom doth break
Thy Sleep, Thou sure shalt dy, nor will I take
A greater Pride, in any Libyan's Fall.
These Threatnings crushing that Design, they all
A Sacramental Oath, as was enjoyn'd,
Swear to the Gods, and to their Countrey binde

287

Their Souls, and from that Crime their Breasts absolve.

While thus the Latines their Affairs revolve,
With troubled Thoughts: Victorious Hannibal
The Fields again survays, and numbers all
His own dire Acts; searching with greedy Eys
Their Wounds, and to the cruel Companies
Of Libyans, that round about Him stood,
Yields joyfull Spectacles of Romane Blood.
At the last Gasp, sore wounded through the Breast,
With Darts, lay valiant Clælius 'mong the rest,
Expiring his departing Soul to Air,
And lab'ring, faintly, his pale Face to rear:
Scarce, with his feeble Neck, from Earth his Head
Had lifted, when his Horse, that knew him, Neigh'd
Aloud, with prick'd-up Ears, and, Bounding, threw
Headlong upon the Ground Vagesus, who
Upon his Captive Back was born, and then
Flying with Speed o're Heaps of slaughter'd Men,
And through the slipp'ry Paths, with standing Gore
Made fat, and Bodies chang'd with Wounds, before
His dying Master stands, and there his Neck,
And Shoulders bowing, offers him his Back,
On bended Knees, as he was wont to do
And, trembling, seems his in-bred Love to shew.
None could more neatly mount a metled Steed,
Then he; none surer, as he ran full Speed,
Lay backward all along, or stood upon
His naked Back, or, when he chanc'd to run
A Race, more happily perform'd the Course.

But, not a little, wondring at the Horse
That equall'd Humane Sense, the Libyan strait
His Name, and Honours, who with adverse Fate
So bravely did contend, desir'd to know,
And, to dispatch him, gave the Mercy-Blow.

288

Then Cynna (for He to the Tyrians Side
Had turn'd his Arms) who near him then did ride,
A Slave to Fortune, answers: Sir (said He)
His Story worthy of your Ear may be.
In former Times, that Rome, which now disdains
With so much Scorn, to bear the Tyrian Reins,
Was under Kings; but, hating Tarquin's Sway,
Soon as She had his Scepter thrown away,
Strait mighty Armies, from Clusinum came,
(If either Cocles, or Porsenna's Fame,
Or Lidyan Camps, by Chance, thine Ear have found)
He, with Mæonian Aids, encompass'd round,
And Tyrrhen People strove again to bring
By War, into his Throne, the banish'd King;
Much, they, in vain, attempted: at the Gate
The Tyrant press'd; when, Peace concluded, strait
All Hate's compress'd, and by a League aside
The War is lai'd, and Faith by Pledges ty'd.
But, yet (good Gods!) the Romane Hearts, that know
Not how to yield, prepar'd to undergo
The worst of Ills for Honour! Clælia, who
Not yet the Age of twice six Summers knew,
One of the Latine Maids, that did remain
A Pledg of Peace, among the Virgin-Train
Transmitted to the King: She (not to speak
Of what the Men perform'd) that King, the League,
Her Years, the Flood contemning, fearless, o're
Admiring Tyber, from the Hostile Shore,
Swum, and the Billows broke with tender Hands.
Had Nature chang'd her Sex, the Tyrrhen Lands
Porsenna happily should ne're again
Have seen; but (that I may no more detain
You in her Story) from her Stock He came,
And from the famous Virgin took his Name.

289

As He this Story told, a sudden Cry,
On the Left-Hand, broke forth, appearing nigh,
Where Paulus Body, 'mong the Arms of Men,
And mangled Corps, in Ruin mix'd, they then
Dug up, amidst the Slaughter'd Heaps. Alass!
How alter'd? how unlike to Him he was,
That, lately, with his Shafts the Punick Bands
Had routed? Or, when the Taulantian Lands,
With Honour, he had vanquish'd, and did bring
Into Subjection the Illyrick King?
His hoary Locks all black with Dust; upon
His Beard dry Clots of Gore; a Mural Stone
His Teeth had broke: His Body all one Wound;
Which when, o'rejoy'd, the Libyan Captain found,
Fly, Consul Varro, now, securely fly;
And live (said He) since Paulus, here, did dy:
Fly; and to lazy Fabius, to the State,
And People, Cannæ's Story all relate.
If Thou desir'st, so greedily, the Light
Of Life, I'le grant Thee such another Flight.
But He, whose valiant Heart (that justly claim'd
Me, for a Fo) so brave an Heat enflam'd,
With the last Rites of Funeral, by Me,
And Decent Sepulture, shall Honour'd be.
How Great here Paulus dost Thou ly? Whose Fall,
Alone, is greater Joy to Me, then all
The Thousands We have slain; and so, when Fate
Me, with the Safety (Carthage) of thy State,
Shall call, do I desire to dy. This said,
T'Interr his Friends, when the next Morn displai'd
Her Blushes from her Bed, and to prepare
A Pyle of Arms (that to the God of War
Were to be burnt) He gives Command: then all,
Though weary, to the Work commanded fall,

290

And strait in sev'ral Heaps the Groves are lai'd,
And, on the shady Hills, tall Woods are made
To Eccho with their Axes: here to Ground
They fell the Ash, and shady Pop'lar, crown'd
With hoary Leaves, and there the Holm, that took
Root in their Grand-sire's Age, and firmest Oak;
With Pines, that flourish by a River, and
Sad Cypress, that near Sepulchres do stand,
A mournfull Ornament. These to the Field
They bear, and there, with Emulation, build
The Fun'ral Pyles (an Office to the Slain,
Fruitless, and sad) till in the Eastern Main
Sol drench'd his panting Steeds, and, by his Flight
From Heav'n, with Stygian Darkness rais'd the Night.

But, when again the Phaëthontian Reins
Shed their first Beams on the Eöan Plains,
And did to Earth its Colours all restore,
They Flames apply, and Corps, distilling Gore,
Burn, in an Hostile Land: an horrid Dread
Of various Chance, seising their Thoughts, is spread
With Silence through their Hearts, lest Fortune, by
An adverse Fight, might cause them there to dy.

But Sacred (Mars) to Thee, up to the Skies,
Like a vast Hill, a Pyle of Arms doth rise:
The General himself lifts up a tall
And flaming Pine, and thus on Thee doth call:
Great Father Mars! who, now, hast heard my Pray'r;
These Sacrifices of a Prosp'rous War,
And First-fruits of the Fight, within this Flame,
I, Hannibal, or'e the Ausonian Name
Victorious, burn, to Thee, and living Bands
Offer these chosen Arms, with gratefull Hands.
Then, throwing in the Torch, the greedy Fire
Devours the Pyle; and strait a flaming Spire

291

Breaks through the Smoak, and to the Stars ascends,
And a clear Light through all the Field extends.
Thence, hasting to the Tomb, and Funeral
To Paulus giv'n, the Honour of his Fall,
Insulting, boasts. A lofty Pyle, there, They
Had rais'd, and softer Beds, compos'd of Hay:
Gifts likewise added are, to th'Valiant held
A Fun'ral Honour: His dire Sword, and Shield,
(Of late a Terrour, and a stately Sight)
Then Fasces torn, and Axes ta'ne in Fight.
No Wife, no Sons, no Troops of Kindred near
Ally'd, were there; nor on the lofty Bier
(As Custom was) old Images precede,
And grace the Exequies: But, now, instead
Of other Pomp, was Hannibal, alone
Sufficient, to Eternize His Renown:
Shining with richest Purple (to the rest
Upon the Pyle) He, sighing, threw his Vest,
And, after that, His Gold-embroider'd Cloak:
Then to His Shade, with this last Honour, spoke.
Ausonia's Glory! go Thou thither; where
Souls, great in Deeds, and Virtue, seated are;
Thou, by Thy Noble Death, hast Honour gain'd:
Fortune, as yet, with her unconstant Hand,
Our Labours guids, and doth command, that We
Of future Chances ignorant should be.

Thus He, and, strait from crackling Flames, into
Ætherial Air, the joyfull Soul doth go.

Now Fame, her Voice encreasing, to the Skies,
The Sea, and Earth, and chiefest City flies.
They now distrust their Walls, and, trembling, all
Hope Safety onely in the Capitol.
For now, for their Defence, no Youthfull Bands
Survive; an empty Name Ausonia stands,

292

Without a Body: that the Enemy
Not yet broke through the Gates, they think to be
Delay, through Scorn: their Houses now appear
To burn, the Temples spoil'd, and ev'ry where
Their Sons, in cruel Slaughter, to expire
Before their Eys, and the sev'n Tow'rs on Fire.
One Day lamented the approaching Falls
Of twice an hundred Chairs, and sinking Walls
Of now-exhausted Rome, depriv'd of twice
Three hundred thousand Youth besides; and this
After sad Trebia, and the Tuscan Flood:
And of Allies, as great a Loss of Blood.

Amidst these Griefs, the Pious Senate all,
By Lot, to their appointed Charges fall:
Old Fabius, super-vising what was done
With Diligence, th'Affrighted calls upon.
Believ't, there's now no Reason to delay;
We must be speedy, that the Libyan may,
T'approach our armed Walls, attempt in vain.
By Sitting-still cross Fortune Strength doth gain
Among the Fearfull, and Adversity
Through Fear grows greater. Go, go speedily,
Snatch from the Temple Arms (Brave Youths) go make
The Courts, and Porches, naked; quickly take
The Targets from the Walls, were gain'd in War:
Enough our Numbers for our Countrey are,
If we loose nothing through our Fear to fight:
In open Fields, that horrid Plague may fright
Perchance; but the light-naked Moor shall ne're
Break through these Walls, or boast his Triumphs here.

While Fabius thus excites their Minds, with Dread
Dejected. 'Bout the Walls a Rumour's spread,
That Varro was at Hand, and ev'ry Breast
With secret Trouble, and with Doubt, 's possest.

293

As, when, a Vessel wrack'd, safe from the Sea,
Alone, the Pilot, swimming, makes his Way
To th'open Shore; the People trembling stand,
Uncertain whether they should lend an Hand
To help Him, or refuse Him, and, the rest
So lost, his sole Survival all detest.
How great his Infamy, who durst come near
The Ports, so sad an Omen to their Fear!
These Discontents, and Troubles to asswage,
And turn the wav'ring People from their Rage,
Fabius declares; How Base it was to be
Vex'd at Mis-fortunes in Adversity,
It did un-manly seem, in those to bend,
Who their Original from Mars pretend,
Who could not hide their Griefs, but were intent
To remedy their Woes by Punishment:
But, if they would permit him, to upbraid,
To Him that Day more Dismal shin'd (he said)
When He saw Varro marching to the Field,
Then that, wherein Dis-arm'd he Him beheld.

This Language all their Threats allay'd, and strait
Their Hearts were turn'd. Now they condole his Fate,
Now, summ up all the Comforts from them ta'ne
By the Sidonian, in two Consuls slain.
Then, to congratulate Him, out they run
In Troops; protesting, that whate're was done,
They did believe, proceeded from a great
And valiant Minde; That trusting to the Fate
Of their Fore-Fathers, and their mighty Power,
He not despair'd of the Tarpeian Tow'r.

No less sad, for his Crime, and full of Shame,
Towards the Walls, the Consul, weeping, came:
Not daring his dejected Looks at all
To raise, to see his Countrey, and recall

294

Their Griefs. The Senate, and the People, that
To meet Him went, seem'd not to gratulate
His Safety: but sad Parents to require
Their Sons, and Brothers; or, enflam'd with Ire,
To tear the Consul's Face; appear'd to come:
And therefore, with a silent Lictour, Rome
He, Private, enters, and through Grief contemn'd
That Honour, which the Gods, so late, condemn'd.

But Fabius, and the Senate doth provide
Speedy Relief, all Sadness lai'd aside;
And strait the Slaves are arm'd: nor doth that Shame,
For common Safety, move them to dis-claim
The Camp. But to reduce th'Æneïan State,
By any Means, within the Laws of Fate,
It is Decreed, and for the Sacred Tow'r,
Honour of Freedom, and Imperial Pow'r,
Ev'n Servile Hands to Arm. Now, they devest
Boys of their Garments, and their Shoulders prest
With Arms, to them unknown: stiff Helmets close
Their tender Cheeks, and in the Blood of Foes
They are commanded to grow up to Men.
But, when 't was mov'd the Captive Troops agen
Should Ransom'd be at easie Rates (for there
Of such, that sought it, many thousands were)
They to the wondring Libyan left them all.
So much the Possibility to fall,
Arm'd, into Bondage, did all Crimes exceed,
All other Guilt surpass. Then, 'twas Decreed,
That whosoever should Convicted be,
T'have fled the Fight in farthest Sicily,
Should serve, untill the Fo th'Ausonian Land
Should quite relinquish. Such then Rome did stand!
Next whom, Thou, Carthage, had the Fates thought good
To change her Manners, mightst, as Chief, have stood.

The End of the Tenth Book.

295

The Eleventh Book.

The Argument.

What People, after Cannæ's Loss forsake
The Romane Leagues, and part with Libya take.
The Capuans proud Demands at Rome: which She
Contemning forc'd the Messengers to flee
With a Repulse. Strait Capua entertains
The Libyans, which Decius disdains:
His Faith, and Noble Courage: He is sent,
In Chains, to Carthage: whither, as he went,
By Storms, upon Cyrene, he is cast;
Where, rescu'd from the Libyans, at last
He dies. With wanton, and luxurious Feasts
Loose Capua entertains her Libyan Guests.
Amidst their Mirth, the Death of Hannibal
Pactulus Son conspires. Mago, with all
The Spoils of Cannæ, is to Carthage sent,
The People's Acclamations, and Content,
When he arriv'd. He new Supplies demands
Of Men, and Monies: Hanno this withstands.
In fine, Mago prevails, and all, that He.
Requires, the Senate grants by a Decree.

But now what People to the Libyan Side,
And the Sidonian Camp, themselves apply'd,
Through Cannæ's famous Loss, let me unfold.
When Fortune sails, no Mortals long will hold

296

Their Faith. Their Hands now, openly, they strive
To the perfidious Libyan to give,
Too ready in Mis-fortune to despair!
Before the rest, the cruel Samnites are
Most eager, on Occasion, to renew
Their Hate, and long-concealed Rage to shew.
Next, the unconstant Brutians, who, with Shame,
(Too late) did afterwards the Fact disclaim.
Perfidious Apulians, next to these,
With their ambiguous Arms: then, hating Peace,
The vain Hirpini, who unworthily
Their Faith infring'd. A gen'ral Treachery
(Like the Contagion of some foul Disease)
Through all the Nations spreads: and now with these
Atella, now Calatia (common Fear
Depressing Justice) with their Troops appear,
In the Sidonian Camp. Then, with as bold
Inconstancy, Tarentum (that of old
Phalanthus built) the Romane Yoak deny'd:
Her friendly Gates high Croton open'd wide,
And taught the Thespian Nephews, at the Beck
Of Barb'rous Africans, to yield their Neck.
Like Rage possess'd the Locri, and the Coast,
Where Græcia Major Argive Walls doth boast,
And Windings, wash'd by the Iönian Sea.
These, following the Success of Libya,
And Fortune, in that Errour, fearfull, sware
To lend their Arms to the Sidonian War.
And, now, the stubborn Bord'rers on the Po,
(The Celtæ) strive t'encrease the Romanes Wo
Again, and, mindfull of their antient Hate,
With all their Strength, themselves associate.
But, whither is't more just, this impious War
To th'Celtæ, or the Boii to refer?

297

Or rather Capua's Madness; so to please
The Cruel Nation of the Senones?
And who would think those Walls, that, first, did rise
From Dardan Hands, and did, til I then, despise
The Friendship of a Barb'rous Tyrant, now,
At such a Time, so great a Change should show?
But Luxury, and Ease, that long had bin
Nurs'd in their Brothels; and, through frequent Sin
All Shame, all Modesty consum'd, beside
Infamous Honour, that, alone, rely'd
On Wealth, with Idleness, the City, void
Of Laws, and lazy People, quite destroy'd.
And then a cruel Pride provok'd their Fall:
Their Vices want no Aids; for none, of all
Th'Ausonian People, had a larger Store
Of Gold (so full a Sail their Fortune bore)
Then they: their long-Sleev'd Robes Assyrian Dy
Enrich'd; they Feast, with high Regality,
Ev'n in the midst of Day; soon, as the Sun
Diffus'd his Light, their Banquets they begun;
Their wanton Lives all Stains of Vices bear:
Beside, the Senate to the People were
Severe: the People, through the Senate's Hate
Incens'd, Seditions raise; and, with Debate,
Divide their Hearts: The Head-strong Youth, meanwhile,
Their Crimes encrease; and greater Sins defile
The Aged. And then such, as were of Base
Extraction, and whom an Ignoble Race
Defam'd, their Falling Countrey's Reins desire
To guide, and to the Chief Command aspire.
With Slaughter, likewise, 'twas their Use, of old,
T'exhilarate their Banquets, and behold
Dire Spectacles of such, as with the Sword
Contend, mix'd with the Feast; while on the Board,

298

Besmear'd with Gore, the very Goblets swell
Not more with Wine, then Blood of those, that fell.

With Cunning, These (that to the Tyrians He
Their Minds, deprav'd, might turn more eagerly)
The Libyan Prince attempts. Because He knew
Rome (notwithstanding all that Chance could do)
Would never yield. 'Twas easie to procure
What He desir'd: Pactulus (not obscure
For Guilt in this) He Counsels to require
A Share in Government, and to desire,
That, with a Sociate Consul, he might bear
Alternate Fasces. If an equal Share
To Him, in Pow'r, and Honour, they deny'd,
Nor to behold two Axes would abide,
He, a Revenger, in their View, would stand
Of that Repulse. Therefore a Chosen Band
With Speed was sent, and Virius (who the rest
In Eloquence excell'd) himself addrest,
Chief in the Embassie. His Birth, indeed,
Was mean; But yet his Fury did exceed
All else. Scarce what was impiously desir'd
By th'frantick People had He told, and fir'd
Their Ears with swelling Words, when a loud Cry,
From the whole Counsel rising, did deny
His Message with unanimous Disdain.
Then ev'ry One upbraids him, and the Fane,
Through the Contention of their Voices, shook:
And here the brave Torquatus, with a Look,
Grave as his Grand-sire's, said. Dost Thou presume
(Oh Capua!) such Messengers should come
Within the Walls of Rome? 'Gainst which to bear
Their Arms, nor Hannibal, nor Carthage dare,
After their Cannæ? Hath 't not touch'd your Ear,
That, when in the Tarpeian Temple, here,

299

The Latines proudly urg'd the like Demands:
Not with a Vote, or Words, but furious Hands
They were repuls'd, and He, who hither brought,
And with proud Language utter'd what they sought,
With so great Violence, was Headlong thrown,
Out at the Temple-Gates, that, bruis'd upon
The fatal Rock, he there did expiate,
In View of Jove, his Language, by his Fate?
And I, his Off-Spring, who that Oratour,
Then, from this Palace of the Thunderer
Expell'd, and Consul, with his naked Hand,
Defender of the Capitol did stand,
This Mad-man, who appears, with threatning Eys,
To view these Trophies of Rome's Victories,
And his Fore-Father's Faction to pursue.—

Vex'd Fabius seeing, that He fiercer grew,
In this Dispute, thus interposing, said,
Oh Impudence! Behold that Seat is made
Vacant by Storms of War, and whom of all
Your Crew (I pray) do you intend to call,
And substitute in Noble Paulus Place?
Doth thy Lot, Virius, with the Senate's Grace,
Cite Thee, before all other? Or doth now
The Purple to our Bruti Thee allow
As equal? Go thou Fool, go thither, where
Perfidious Carthage may, for Thee, prepare
Her Fasces. As with Heat he this Exprest,
Impatient ev'n with Sighs, within his Breast
Longer to keep his Anger (that thus broke,
Like Thunder, forth) aloud Marcellus spoke.
How dull a Patience (Varro) doth thy Minde
Possess? Confounded with this stormy Winde
Of War, so much, that, now a Consul, Thou
These mad, vain Dreams, art able to allow?

300

Why dost thou not, from hence, these Headlong throw
Out at the Gates? and make these Half-men know
How great a Pow'r the Consuls have, that be
Created by Our Custom? And, let Me
Advise (Thou, never-sober Youth! whose Fall
Is nigh) fly quickly hence. Our General
Shall, Arm'd, before your Walls an Answer make,
Such, as is meet. With that, they all forsake
Their Seats, and, with loud Clamours, press upon
The Capuans, who hasted to be gone;
While Virius, vex'd at that Repulse, lets fall
In murmur'd Threats, the Name of Hannibal.

But Fulvius, the Presages of whose Minde
His future Honour at that Time Divin'd,
And falling Capua's Image 'fore his Eys
Appear'd, Replies; Though, Crown'd with Victories,
Thou, Hannibal, His Neck in Chains, to Rome
Shouldst bring; Yet ne're, hereafter, shalt Thou come
Within these Sacred Walls: then take Thy Flight
(I pray Thee) whither Thy sick Thoughts invite.
At length, this angry Answer of the vext
Senate they bore away, with Threatning mixt.

Is it thy Will, Great Jove, that Fates should ly
Still Buried in so great Obscurity
An Age more happy shall hereafter come,
When a Campanian Consul Pious Rome
Shall gladly entertain, and shall afford
Secure those Fasces, of Her own Accord,
To valiant Nephews, that were long deny'd
Through Arms, & War: but of their Grand-sire's Pride
This shall a lasting Punishment remain.
Rome shall as soon the Suffrage entertain
Of Carthage, as of Capua. This Reply
When Virius, intermixing cunningly

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Fiction with Truth, did, with the Fates, declare:
The Fatal Signal of a Bloody War
Was giv'n, and the Campanian Youth, inspir'd
With Fury, Arms, and Hannibal desir'd.
The People, flocking from all Parts, invite
The Libyans to their Houses, and recite
What mighty Things the Libyan Prince hath done:
How He, like Hercules, had over-run
The Alps; and, in His Course, had pass'd those high
Aspiring Rocks, that to the Gods are nigh.
Who had, a Conquerour, choak'd up the Stream
Of Po, with Slaughter: And, how He (the same
Great Conqu'rour) troubled with Ausonian Blood
The Lydian Lake: and Banks of Trebia's Flood
Transmitted had, with an Eternal Name,
To Fame: How He Flaminius overcame,
And Paulus (Consuls) whom in Fight He slew.
Beside, how He Sagunthus overthrew,
In His first War. And then Pyrene's Heights,
Iberus, and His Father's Stygian Rites
They all extoll, and th'War, which long before
He, in His Childehood, at the Altar swore.
And, then, so many Gen'rals overthrown
In Fight; so many slain, that He, alone,
By all the Weapons of the Gods did stand
Untouch'd, in Battel. While He did command,
With such a Person therefore, they should joyn
Their Hands, and with Him, in a League, combine:
But, if that Bloodless People's high Disdain,
Vain Contumacy, and that Citie's Reign,
That equal Laws, and Fasces had deny'd,
(As to their Servants) Capua would abide:
Varro was then to be preferr'd, that He,
Consul, in Purple, might more Glorious flee.

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Thus boasting, they, by Lot, choice Men prepare
To send, that with the Tyrians might swear
A League: but Decius, then, the sole Renown
Of Capua, in his Breast reserv'd, alone,
Unconquer'd Courage: and, receiv'd into
The Midst of the Assembly (for He knew
He might not long delay) Why do ye make
Such Haste, dear Countreymen (said He) to break
Our Father's Laws? And, thus, to entertain
Into your Families that guilty Man,
For breaking of the League, condemned by
The Altars? How is thus all Memory
Of Justice lost? 'Tis Noble, still in great
Affairs, with private Men, or with a State,
To keep Faith in Distress. Time doth invite
Us now, for the Rutulians to fight:
Now should our Armies move, our Ensigns fly,
While their State totters, and a Remedy
Their Wounds require. That Kindness is, alone,
That's offer'd, when Prosperity is done,
And that gives Aid, where Fortune is declin'd.
For 'tis no Honour to a gallant Minde,
To hug the Fortunate. Then hearken now
To Me, their Souls like to the Gods I know,
And Hearts still greater, then their greatest Ills.
Believe Me, Them nor Thrasimenus fills,
Cannæ nor Paulus Memorable Fate:
Ev'n These are they, that with their Arms did beat
The Fo, fix'd on your Walls, and Capua
From the proud Samnites rescu'd: These are they,
Who gave you Laws, who all your Fears expell'd,
And which the Sidicinian Army quell'd.
Then what Allies, through Malice, do you fly?
Or, rather, whom d'ye entertain? Shall I,

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A Trojan, who from Father Capys came,
To whom he left his Sacred Rites, and Name
From Jove, of great Iulus Kin, shall I
Among these Half-men (Nasamonians) ly?
Or 'mong the barb'rous Garamantians (which,
In Grinning, salvage Beasts resemble) pitch
My Tent; mix'd with Marmarick Troopers? Or
Shall I endure a General, that for
The League, and Justice takes his Sword? and Praise
From Blood alone unto Himself doth raise?
No; Right, and Wrong, your Decius does not mix
With such Indifference, that he should fix
On such a Choice: you with no Good so great
Hath cruel Nature Arm'd, as with the Gate
Of Death; which, alwaies-open, gives you Pow'r
To leave a tedious Life, at any Hour.

Thus, to their Ears averse, while Decius spent
His Breath in Vain, a chosen Regiment
Made League with Hannibal: and, strait, a Band
Of light Autololes, with Noise, at Hand
Appear'd, sent by the General before,
While He, with a great Body, Marcheth o're
The Plains with Speed; and Decius agen
Exclaims, Come; now's the Time (dear Countreymen)
The Hour's arriv'd, while, following Me, you may
Perform an Action, worthy Capua.
Now let Us all those Barb'rous Troops destroy;
Let ev'ry one strive soly to enjoy
That Honour; if the Fo approach, the Gate
Obstruct with Carcases, and expiate
This Errour with your Swords. Such Blood alone
Can purge your guilty Souls from what is done.
While this (in Vain) to all unpleasant, He
Express'd; inform'd of his Severity,

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With an Heart full of Rage, the Libyan stands
Before the Walls, and, instantly, Commands
The Deputies into the Camp to send
For Decius, whom rought Valour did commend,
And a Breast arm'd with Faith; a Soul inclin'd
To Justice, and then Capua a Minde
More great; who, with undaunted Courage, took
Those menacing Commands: and, with a Look
Most fierce, as bitter Words returns again.
The Libyan Him, so full of brave Disdain,
Amidst so many Arms, and Ensigns, thus
Aloud upbraids: After Flaminius,
And after Paulus, We are challeng'd! See!
Alass! mad Decius would contend with Me,
To give a Fame, and Honour to his Fall!
But hence, my Souldiers, quickly march, with all
Your Ensigns, and, in Spight of Him, to Me
Let the Campanian City open'd be.
What new Wars He can raise I'de, gladly, try
'Gainst Us, to whom the Alps did openly,
And Rocks, that strike at Heav'n, o're which a God
Alone (before Impregnable) had trod.
With that He, angry, blush'd, and from His Eys,
Through Fury kindled, sudden Flames arise,
And, foaming at his Mouth, deep Sighs he draws,
That break, in dreadfull Murmurs, from his Jaws.

By the whole Senate thus attended, Hee
The City enters; and, his Face to see
The People flocking round, He venteth all
The Storms of his dire Rage, and burning Gall;
While the approaching Dangers more enflame
Brave Decius Minde, who saw the Instant came
Of Time, wherein He was to vanquish all
The Praise of an Unconquer'd General.

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Him neither Flight, nor Barricado'd Doors
Conceal. But Free, as if no Libyan Pow'rs,
No Hannibal, were then, within the Town,
He, with a Fearless Look, walks up, and down;
When strait, with cruel Arms, a furious Band
Seis'd Him, and forc'd Him at the Feet to stand
Of Hannibal; who, on a lofty Throne,
A Conqu'rour sate, and, with a Thundring Tone,
This bitter Language vents. Dost Thou presume,
Alone, to under-prop declining Rome,
And rescue Her from Ruin? Thou Fool, say;
Which of the Gods from Me shall take away
So great Enjoyments? Or, was I, to be
Subdu'd, reserv'd (dull Decius) to Thee?
Weak Decius! To whom no Woman, born
In Agenorean Carthage, but would scorn
To Yield. But Him (for why such high Disdains
Should We endure?) Fast in deserved Chains
(My Souldiers) binde. Scarce He an End had made
Of Railing; when stout Decius they invade,
And binde, with Chains, His Hands upon His Back.
Then, as a Lyon, on the lofty Neck
Of a young Bull, amidst the Herd, doth leap,
And murmuring with Rage, Victorious, deep
Into his trembling Flesh his Claws hath prest,
There hanging, feeds upon the groaning Beast:
So Decius raging, while His Chains they binde,
Come speedily (for such We ought to finde
Thy Entrance Hannibal) these Chains, the Prize
Of this unhappy League, close binde, (He cries)
So Decius may a Worthy Victime fall:
For 'tis not fit, that Thou, who placest all
Delight in Humane Blood, shouldst Sacrifice
Bulls to the Gods. Let Capua, in this,

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Behold thy Right-Hand; see thy League: as yet
The Court Thou hast not enter'd, nor hast set
Thy Foot with in the Temples; but We see
The Prison's open'd by the Cruelty
Of Thy Commands. Go on, and give Encrease
To Thy Beginnings, by such Acts, as these:
Fame shall to Me, when Dead, hereafter tell,
That Hannibal in Capua's Ruins fell.
But, here, they stop'd His Speech, and o're His Head,
To blinde His Eys, a Fatal Robe was spread,
And strait He's dragg'd away, in View of all
His Friends: and then Triumphing Hannibal,
With a more quiet Minde, and calmer Look,
Goes on; and, viewing all about Him, took
Survey of all the Buildings in the Town,
And Temples, and, what's worthy to be known
Enquires; Who built the Walls; What Numbers are
In Arms; How Great their Treasure was for War:
What was their Strength of Horse; How great withall
Their Infantry? To Him their Arcenal
They shew, and Stellate Fields with Store of Corn.

The Day now Phœbus to his Bounds had born,
With weary Steeds, and Hesp'rus, by Degrees,
Obscur'd his Chariot, hasting to the Seas:
When they (as Custom was) their Feasts prepare,
And, through the City, crown with Royal Fare
Their stately Tables. Of the Honour He,
And Entertainment of a Deity,
Thought worthy, sits aloft upon a Bed
Of Purple; that far off its Rays doth spread.
Nor was the Troop of Servants single; some
Serve in the Meat; others burn rich Perfume;
The sev'ral Dishes some, in Order, joyn;
Some serve in Drinke, and Antique Goblets shine,

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Of massive Gold, upon the Tables; Night,
By num'rous Tapers Flames, is put to Flight:
With Noise of those, that Up, and Down, do go
The high-Roof'd Palace rings. A Stranger to
Such lautious Banquets, with a wondring Eye,
The unknown Face of Stately Luxury
The Tyrian Souldier views: with Silence He
Feeds on, and blames such Prodigality
In Banqueting; and, that such Troops of Guests
Were entertain'd, at their delicious Feasts.

But when, at Length, His Hunger was allay'd,
And His rough Mind, with Wine, more Frolick made;
When Mirth upon His smoother Brow did rest,
And weightier Cares were banish'd from His Breast:
Cymæan Teuthras his Euboick Lyre
Tun'd, and His Ears, dull'd, with the Trumpet's Dire
Alarms, in War, with pleasant Eyrs delights.
Now Jove he sings, and his stoln Loves recites:
Electra's Bed (of Atlas Race was She)
From whence sprung Dardanus; a Progeny
Worthy the Gods: how, to Immortal Jove
Thence Ericthonius did a Nephew prove:
Whence Tros, whence Ilus came, and, in a long
Descent, Assaracus: at Length, He sung
Capys, who equal was in Deeds, and Fame,
To All, and gave unto those Walls their Name.
The Carthaginians, and Campanians, all
Applaud his Lays: and, first, the General,
With all due Rites, a Goblet Crown'd with Wine
Pays to the Honour of the Pow'rs Divine;
The Rest Him follow, and, instructed by
Their Custom, Bacchus Juice flows lib'rally
Upon the Boards, and fires their swelling Veins.

And, now, the Tyrians having giv'n the Reins

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To Mirth, a Valiant Soul, untouch'd with Wine,
(For willingly, brave Youth, Thy high Design,
Worthy all Memory, I'le not pass by
In Silence; nor deserved Fame deny
To Thy Attempts, which, though Imperfect, yet
Were clearest Demonstrations of a Great,
And Noble Courage) from all Venom free
Of Drink, the Honour ponder'd, silently
Within his Breast, of a Sidonian Fight,
And Death; and, that this Sacred Motion might
The rather be admir'd, Pactulus Son
Condemn'd those Arts His Father had begun.
He, closely following behinde His Sire,
Who, with the Feast oppress'd, did, Slow, retire
From the throng'd Palace, when He found a Time
To open what He thought, and tell to Him
His new Design; and when the Place was free
Behinde Them, from the Palace: Hear (said He)
My Resolution, worthy Capua,
And Us, (with that, turning His Gown away,
He shew'd His Armed Side) I now intend,
With this My Sword, this cruel War to end,
And bear the Libyan's Head to Jove: this Sword
Shall ratifie this Infamous Accord,
Made such by His Deceits; but, if Your Age
Cannot, in so great Spectacles, engage,
Or, tyr'd with greater Deeds, now fearfull be,
You may securely Home retire, and Me
Leave to my Thoughts. Thou Hannibal dost prize
As Chief, and to the Gods dost equalize:
But how much Greater, then a Libyan Name,
Will Thy Son be? With that a Dreadfull Flame
Seem'd from His Mouth to issue, and the Man
Already in his Minde the War began.

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But the Old Man, who, with a troubled Ear,
The Weight of a Design, so great, did bear,
Trembling, before Him sell, upon the Place.
And, as He did, with Kisses, oft imbrace
His Feet; Dear Son, by what remains to Me
Of Life, and by a Father's Rights (said He)
And by thy Safety (dearer far, then mine
To Me) desist (I pray) from this Design;
Let me not see Our Hospitality
With Murther stain'd, nor Friendly Cups to be
Fill'd up with Blood, and Tables overthrown
In Fury of the Fight. Canst Thou alone
Him, whom nor Armies, Walls, nor Cities dare
Withstand, when He comes near, and ev'ry where
Ejecteth Rays, like Lightning? Him, who throws
Something like Thunder from His Head, oppose?
If, when thy Sword is spy'd, that Dreadfull Voice
He should cast forth, by which He oft destroys
Whole Squadrons in the Field? You but deceive
Your self; if Him, thus Feasting, you believe
Disarm'd. Gain'd by so many Slaughters, by
So many Wars, Eternal Majesty
The Gen'ral Arms. If you approach Him, then,
That Cannæ, Trebia, and dire Thrasimen,
And Paulus mighty Shade before Thee stands,
Thou wilt admire; Will His Companions Hands.
Or those about His Person, in so great
A Danger Idle be? I Thee intreat
Forbear, nor wish Superiority
'Bove Him, o're whom Thou canst not Victour be.
Do not those Fatal Chains, that late did binde
Decius, instruct Thee to compose Thy Minde?

Thus talking, when He saw the Youth to be
Inflam'd with Love of Greater Fame, and free

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From Fear; I nothing more (said He) request:
Come let's return, with Speed, unto the Feast.
Thou canst not pierce the Breasts of all that Ring
Of Tyrian Youth, that now defend the King.
Try in this Throat Thy Hand; for first Thy Blade
(If Thou intend'st the Libyan to invade)
Must through My Bowels pierce. My tardy Age
Contemn not Thou; My Body I'le engage
Against Thee, and that Sword, which cannot be
Extorted now, I, by My Death, from Thee
Will force. With that He wept, and Hannibal,
By Heav'ns great Care, reserved was to fall
By Scipio's Arms. Nor then did Conscious Fate
Allow, a forein Hand should perpetrate
An Act so Great. But, of what Praise was He
Depriv'd, whose Glorious Magnanimity,
Worthy to Act in Deeds most famous, won
So much Renown, for what He would have done?
Then, both together, to the Feast they went
Again, and clear'd their Brows from Discontent,
Till Sleep dissolv'd their Banquet, and their Mirth.

But, as the next bright Morning to the Earth
The fiery Steeds of Phaëthon did raise,
His Chariot on the Surface of the Seas
Reflecting; fam'd Amilcar's Active Son
Already on His great Affairs begun
To think. Fierce Mago's Order'd to repair
To Carthage, to the Senate to Declare
What Hannibal had done. With Him the Prey,
And Captivated Men, are sent away,
And Spoils, that to the Gods Devoted are,
As Sacrifices of a prosp'rous War.
The next Part of His Care was to convey
Brave Decius (Alass!) to Libya,

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Reserv'd, at his Return, a Sacrifice
To his slow Rage, had not the Deities,
Pittying his undeserved Punishment,
The Youth, by Storms, to Battus City sent.
Here Ptolemy's Pelléan Pow'r the Man
Rescu'd from their dire Menaces, that than.
His Keepers were, and freed his Neck from Chains:
But the same Land, that sav'd his short Remains
Of Life, from Slavery, soon after gave
His Bones, inviolate, a quiet Grave.

In the mean Time, the Paphian Goddess findes
The wish'd-for Hour, t'involve the Libyans Mindes
In secret Ruin, through Prosperity,
And their insulting Hearts, by Luxury,
To tame; and, therefore, She her Sons commands,
Enticing Darts to scatter from their Hands
Abroad, and silent Flames to send into
Their Breasts. Then, smiling on the wanton Crew,
Now let proud Juno Us despise (said She)
(And 'tis no Wonder, for now What are We?)
Let Her go on, driv'n with propitious Gales.
She with her Hands, She with her Arms prevails:
We small Shafts onely, from a Childish Bow,
Expell, and from Our Wounds no Blood doth flow.
But, now, be doing; now's your Time: take Aim
(My Sons) and, with your silent Darts, enflame
The Tyrian Youths; that Army, which nor Fire,
Nor Sword, nor Mars, with slackest Reins, can tire,
With store of Wine, Embraces, and by Sleep,
Must be subdu'd. Into His Bowels deep
Let Hannibal imbibed Pleasures drink.
To ly on painted Beds, let Him not think
It Shame, and with Assyrian Sweets his Hair
Perfume; let Him, that, in Hybernal Air,

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Boasted, to lengthen out His Sleeps, delight
In Houses, rather, to consume the Night:
And let Him Learn to give the Idle Day
To Bacchus; and, when cloy'd with Feasts, He may
Be charm'd with Musick, and Luxurious Nights
Or sleeping spend, or waking in Our Rites?
This Venus; which the wanton Troops commend,
And strait, from Heav'n, with Snowy Wings descend:
The Libyan Youths, soon, feel their fiery Darts,
And the discharged Shafts inflame their Hearts.
Now Bacchus Gifts, and Banquets they desire,
And warbling Songs to the Piërian Lyre.
Now through the Plains no sweating Courser flies;
No Lance, thrown through the Air, doth exercise
Their naked Arms: in gentle Baths to rest,
Their lazy Limbs they cherish, and, opprest
With miserable Wealth, rough Valour's gone:
The General Himself, but breath'd upon
By flattering Desire, begins to Feast
Anew; and, oft invited, 's made a Guest.
And, by Degrees degenerate (His Minde,
Corrupted by those secret Shafts) declin'd
His Countrie's Arts. With equal Honour, all
Now Capua another Countrey call,
Another Carthage. Their Affections, free
Before, to greedy Vice, through Victory,
Now yield. Nor do the Capuans Measure keep
In Luxury; but, drown'd in Riot, heap
Lust upon Lust, and in their Feasts, between
Each Course, add Sports, and often change the Scene.
So 'bout the Lotos, on Lægæan Banks,
The Phrygian Minstrels, with lascivious Pranks,
Spartan Canopus fill. And, first, their Ears
With his sweet Eyrs (while Hannibal appears

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Extremely pleas'd) fam'd Teuthras, for his Skill
Most eminent, Delights with Voice, and Quill;
And, when he saw the Libyan Prince admire
The warbling Nerves, then the Aönian Lyre,
With Praise, he celebrates; and, as he sung,
His well-tun'd-Harp conspiring with his Tongue,
The Musick that of dying Swans exceeds,
And those sweet Lays 'mong many (for the Deeds
Of antient Heroes best the Ear affect)
Most pleasant for the Banquet doth select.

Once by the Argive People (strange to tell!)
A Lute was heard, that did the Rocks compell
To follow, and the flying Stones to stand,
Fix'd into Walls. Touch'd by Amphion's Hand,
This rais'd the Theban Walls; while to the Skies
Flints, of themselves, in Heaps, congested, rise
T'enchanted Tow'rs. Another by his Lays
The Phocæ tam'd, becalm'd the raging Seas,
And Protheus drew through all his Shapes, and bore
Arion, on a Dolphin's Back, to Shore.
But that, whose Sound, in the Pelîack Cave,
A Bridle to the Minds of Heroes gave,
And great Achilles Thoughts, the Centaure lov'd,
And when, upon the Strings, his Finger mov'd,
Hell's, or the Ocean's Fury 'twould allay.
He Chaos, and the World, once wanting Day,
Or Light, a starless Lump; and then how God
Diffus'd the Waters of the Deep abroad,
And bound the Globe of Earth amidst the Frame;
How high Olympus to the Gods became,
By his appointment, a Secure Abode,
And chaster Age of Father Saturne shew'd.
But those sweet Nerves, by Orpheus touch'd, to whom
The Gods, and Shades below, did listning come,

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Their Quill emerited, now shine among
The brightest Stars. His Mother his sweet Song
Admir'd, and her Aönian Sisters too;
His Musick the Pangæan Hills pursue.
Hemus, and farthest Thrace, Beasts, with their Woods,
Him follow, and the Mountains with their Floods;
Unmindefull of their Nests, Flight lai'd aside,
Birds, Captiv'd, in th'unshaken Air abide.
And, when the Pegasæan Ship (before
The Sons of Earth were skill'd beyond the Shore)
Refus'd the Sea to enter, by His Song,
Entic'd up to the Poop, the Waters throng.
He those pale Kingdoms, whither Ghosts retire,
And Acheron, that with Eternal Fire,
And Flames, still Ecchoes, by His Lays alone
Subdu'd, and fix'd the ever-rolling Stone.
Thus Teuthras, with His Thespian Lays their Hearts,
Hard'ned in War, to softer Ease diverts.

But, in the mean time, with propitious Gales,
Mago unto the Coast of Libya sails;
And the desired Port, with Lawrel bound,
The Vessel enters, as in Triumph, Crown'd
With captive Arms: the lofty Prow displaies
A Lustre over all the Neighb'ring Seas:
The Seamen in the Road the Ecchoing Shores
With Clamours fill, and, as they tugg their Oars
Against their Breast, rais'd by their num'rous Blows,
The Foam o're all the broken Ocean flows:
To catch their Joys, the eager People press
Into the Waves, and, proud of the Success,
With great Applause, and Emulation, all
Their Welcome celebrate. The General
Is with the Gods compar'd: Him, ev'ry where,
Matrons, and Nephews, (that instructed are

315

To Honour Him) commend: by Young, and Old,
The Senate, and the People, He's extoll'd;
And likewise, by slain Heifers, thought to be
Worthy the Honour of a Deity.

Into His Countrey thus proud Mago came,
And Gates, triumphing in His Brother's Fame,
Enter'd: the Senate to their Place resort,
And, with a full Convention, throng the Court:
There (as an antient Custom did enjoyn)
All Veneration to the Pow'rs Divine,
And the Assembly, pay'd; I bring (said He)
News of that broken Force, which Italy
Against Us us'd, and of that War, wherein
Your Mago no mean Part of Toil hath bin;
And, when We fought, the Gods Our Wishes crownd.
There is a Place, from Diomed Renown'd,
Possess'd of old by Daunus, the moist Grounds
Their Aufidus with rapid Streams surrounds,
And, through the Plains o'reflowing, cuts his Way
With Speed into the Adriatick Sea,
Where falling with great Noise, he beats again
The yielding Billows back into the Main:
Here Varro, and (a Name of Honour held
Among the Latines) Paulus, took the Field,
Before the Day had chac'd away the Night,
And kindled with their shining Arms the Light
Of the then rising Morn. Desire, t'engage
Enflam'd My Brother, and with equal Rage
Our Ensigns hasten on: Earth trembles, strook
With Horrour; high Olympus, groaning, shook:
And here the General (then whom the Earth
Unto a Greater never yet gave Birth)
In Slaughter hid the River, and the Field;
And, as He furious charg'd (this I beheld)

316

Ev'n with the very Noise, that He came on,
Scatter'd, through all the Plains, to Him alone
All Italy gave Way: ev'n I beheld,
When Coward Varro basely fled the Field,
And threw his Arms away: brave Paulus too
I saw, when standing o're his Friend, and through
His Body pierc'd, with Darts, at length He fell.
Ægates, and those Servile Leagues, that tell
Our former Infamy, that Glorious Day
With Streams of Romane Blood hath wash'd away.
If such another Day We live to see;
Then Carthage, surely, Thou the Head shalt be
Of ev'ry Nation, and shalt be ador'd
By all the World! These Trophies shall Record
The Slaughter; which, a Badg of Honour, there,
On their Left Hands the Noblest Persons wear.
With that pours forth (they wondring to behold)
A mighty Heap of shining Rings of Gold,
And ratifies His Words: and then again
Assumes His Speech; What then doth now remain,
But, that (said He) from its Foundation turn'd,
Rome, with the Ground, should levell'd be, and burn'd?
Let Us endeavour this, and now repair
Our Troops, that by so many Dangers are
Exhausted. Let the Treasures open'd be,
With greatest Freedom, to such Hands, as We
Have gain'd in War. Our Elephants (a Sight
Of Terrour to the Romanes) now are quite
Decay'd, and all Provisions grow low.
As this He mention'd, with an angry Brow,
He turn'd to Hanno, (whom the rising Fame
O'th' General did long ago enflame
With bitter Thoughts) Now we have giv'n (said He)
Proof of our Valour, and Designs to Thee.

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Is it now fit, that I a Latine Swain
Should serve? Or must We Hannibal again
Deliver up? Unhappy Wretch! forbear
Thy Pois'nous Envy, and Thy Thoughts, that are
Swell'd high with Stygian Gall. Behold! that Hand
(At Length Crown'd with so many Trophies, and
So many Titles) ev'n that Hand, which Thou
Wouldst have giv'n up to Romane Tortures, now,
Their Shores, Lakes, Rivers, & their Fields with Blood
Hath fill'd. Thus Mago, while the Senate stood
Inclin'd to favour Him in what He spoke.
But Hanno, whom both Envy did provoke,
And Anger, thus replies: I not, at all,
Admire the railing Language, now let fall
By that rash, foolish Boy. His Innate Pride,
And Brother's Spirit may be soon descri'd
In Him, and the vain Venom of His Tongue:
But, lest You should think Me so chang'd, among
His Vanities, as to desist, I say;
That now's the very Time, that We should pray
Their Peace, and this destructive War forbear:
And I beseech You to consider here
What 't is He brings; (there's nothing else beside
Left to Your Censure) 'tis, that We provide
Arms, Ships, Men, Mony, Elephants, with Store
Of Corn. If Conquer'd, We could give no more,
We have with Trojan Blood, already, cloy'd
Rutulian Plains, and Italie's destroy'd:
Now then (good Conquerour!) let's lay aside
Our Cares, and in Our Countrey safe abide;
Let not Our Families, that oft have been
Made empty, be exhausted now agen
By the Expenses of a wastfull War.
And, now, I'me sure, the fatal Day's not far

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Remov'd (I wish, that my Presage may be
False, and my Minde with a vain Augury
Deluded) but Their furious Hearts I know,
And see the future Anger that will grow
From what they suffer. And, for my Part, I
Ev'n Cannæ dread. For lay Your Ensigns by,
Try what is to be done: demand a Peace;
'Twill not be giv'n. Our Ruins will encrease
From what they feel: and they would sooner yield
To League with Us; if they had won the Field,
Then now, when overcome: But Thou, who dost,
With such proud Language, so Great Actions boast,
And, with such swelling Noise, invad'st the Ears
O'th' Ignorant, Thy Brother, (who appears
Equal to Mars in Arms, then whom the Earth
Unto a Greater never yet gave Birth,
For War) Why hath not He (I pray thee say)
Unto the Walls of Rome yet March'd away?
We Children, not yet fit the Weight to bear
Of Arms, may, from their Mothers, force to War,
And Rigg a thousand Ships at His Command,
And seek for Elephants through all Our Land;
That Hannibal, thus arm'd, His Empire may
Prolong, and Reign unto His dying Day.
But You, my dearest Countrey-men (for Us
No hidden Dangers compass) do not thus
Spoil Your dear Families; but moderate
The Arms, and Wealth of such, as in the State
Have Pow'r; let Peace, that is the Best of things
To Mortals known; Peace, that more Honour brings,
Then Myriads of Triumphs; Peace, that can
Our common Safety keep, and make This Man
Equal to That: into Our Countrey be
At Length recall'd, and let the Infamy,

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And Name of Treachery be banish'd from
Thy Walls (Phœnissa) but, if You're become
So greedy of a War, and still persist,
Not to give up your Arms, at the Request
Ev'n of your Countrey, truly I advise,
That hence your Fury may have no Supplies:
And this let Mago to His Brother say;

More He'd have said (for Speaking could not lay
His Anger) but the Clamours of the Rest,
Divided in their Votes, his Speech supprest.
At length, 'twas answer'd: If that the Renown
Of Libya (Hannibal) excell'd by none
In Arms, be Cause of Anger unto Thee,
Ev'n at the very Bounds, must therefore We
Be wanting to the Victour? Or our Aid
Refuse, that one Man's Envy may be made
A Bar unto that Empire, which We now
Have gain'd? With that they readily allow
Whate're for War is needful; proud, that so
Their Favour, in His Absence, He might know.
Then to Iberia they decree the same
Should be convey'd; while Envy did defame
The General's Immortal Deeds, and made
His Honour to be lessned by this Aid.

The End of the Eleventh Book.

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The Twelfth Book.

The Argument.

Through Luxury, and Ease, the Lybians, made
Effeminate, Parthenopè invade,
And are repuls'd. From thence to Cumæ, then
To Putzol, on they March, and are agen
Repuls'd: the Sulph'rous Soil, the Pools, and Lakes
Describ'd. From thence the Libyan Captain makes
His Army march to Nola, where they are
Or'ethrown. What Contributions for the War
At Rome are made: such as, would Service flie
In War, are punished with Infamy.
Torquatus prospers in Sardinia.
The Libyan, wasting Countries in his way,
And burning Towns, goes to Tarentum; where
The City is betraïd: the Romans are,
For Safety, so cd to flie unto the Fort.
The Ships, by them block'd up, within the Port,
By a new Stratagem unto the Sea,
Over the Hills doth Hannibal convey.
By his Host's Treach'ry brave Gracchus falls,
In vain endeav'ring the besieged Walls
Of Capua to relieve. The Libyan goes
To Rome; where Storms, and Lightning him oppose.

Now the sharp Winter, in the Earth again,
His Icy head, his Temples swell'd with Rain,
And Cloudy Brows had hid; and Spring, with clear
And warmer Air, and Winds, began to chear

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The fertile Fields; when forth the Libyan breaks
From Capua, and with Panick Terrour shakes
The neighb'ring Towns. As Serpents, that lay still
Conceal'd, while the Riphæan Winds were chill,
In warmer Days roll from their secret Beds,
And, shining new, erect their Radiant Heads,
And, from their lofty Jaws, their Venom Spout.

But soon as Libya's Ensigns Shin'd about
The Fields, through Fear, all Desolate was made,
And strait in Works, as Terrour did perswade,
Despairing Safety, they themselves enclose,
And Trembling, on the Walls, expect their Foes.
But then that Vigour, that did Arm'd invade
The Alps, and, breaking through, a Passage made,
That Trebia enjoy'd, and stain'd, with Blood
Of Bravest Romanes, the Mæonian Flood,
Was lost. Their Limbs with Wine, and Pleasure made
Effeminate, and, dull with Sleep, decai'd:
Those, that were wont in coldest Nights to ly
Loaden with Arms, beneath a Stormy Sky,
And oft, when Show'rs of Hail came Rushing down,
Contemn'd their Tents: who ne're by night were known
To lay their Quivers, Darts, Swords, Shields aside,
And Arms, as useful as their Members try'd;
Their Helmets, now, an heavy Burden call,
Their Targets Weighty seem, their Jav'lins all
So weakly thrown, that they with Silence fly.

The first of all, that was assaulted by
Their Arms, was Fair Parthenopé, a Town
Not Wealthy; but for Strength of some Renown:
But the convenient Port the General, who
Sought to secure the Ocean, thither drew;
That Ships from Carthage, there, might safe arrive.
The Citizens did then in Pleasure live,

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And entertain'd, in Peace, the Muses, free
From weight of Cares: Siren Parthenopè,
From Achelôus sprang, whose Musick long
Reign'd in those Seas, when Her delightful Song
Destroy'd the Mariners, that near Her came,
Left, to those Walls, Her memorable Name.

Assaulting this behinde, (for by the Sea
The Front was Safe) the Libyan no way
With all his Strength could force. Inglorious in
The loss of that Design, He doth begin,
With Rams, to Batter the obstructed Gates:
And there, that Conquerour, that ev'n the Fates
At Cannæ had Subdu'd, did stand, in Vain,
Before a Græcian Bulwark: and again
A cautious Resolution doth approve
By that Event; for that He did not move,
After the Daunian Field (that sadly swum
In Trojan Blood) unto the Walls of Rome.
Now You, that call me Idle, and that say,
I know not how, to give the Fates their Way;
For that I would not suffer you to Climbe
(Said He) the Walls of Rome, ev'n at a Time
When you had newly Fought: now enter, and
Within these Houses, which a Græcian Band
Onely defends, give Us that Festival,
Which once you Promis'd, in the Capitol.

While thus He them upbraids: incens'd with Shame
(Should He desert the place) of future Fame,
He ev'ry thing attempts, and eager Whets
Their Swords, with his accustomed Deceits.
But sudden Flames upon the Walls, and through
The Air, at ev'ry Breach, swift Weapons flew.
As, when an Eagle hides upon an High
Imperious Rock her Yong, if silently

324

A Serpent thither crawl, and gaping wide,
By his Approach, her Brood is terrifi'd,
She with her Bill, and Talons (wont to bear
The Arms of Jove) still Watchfull, ev'ry where,
Resists her Enemy, and flies about
The Circle of her Nest, to keep him out.
Weary, at length, to Cuma's Port He took
His Way, by various Motion to provoke
Fortune, and wave that Blow to His Renown.
But Gracchus, then Commander of the Town,
Was its Defence, and forc'd Him to retreat
Ev'n from the Walls, not suff'ring Him to set
Before the Gates, or hope for Entrance there.
Then, mounted on a nimble Steed, Despair
Seising His Minde, He views, and searcheth all,
And thus again doth on His Souldiers call,
With Arguments of Praise: Good Gods! (said He)
What Period (Friends) what Measure shall We see
Of standing, thus, at Grecian Towns, while none
Of You remember, what You once have done?
Is it because a greater Bulk doth stand
Before You, then the Alps? and I command,
That You should climb again those Rocks, that strike
At Heav'n? Should We another Land, that's like
To that now finde, where sudden Rocks, and Snow
Invade the very Stars, would You not go;
And boldly Arms, where're I lead You, bear?
These Walls (Alass!) and Cuman Rampires, here,
Despairing Gracchus hold, I who, perceive,
Ev'n in the least of Danger, dare not leave
Those Ports: but shall the World then think what You
Have gain'd by Toils, you did by Chance subdue?
I, by those Gods, that at the Tyrrhen Lake
Propitious were, entreat; for Trebia's sake,

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And by Sagunthus Dust, Your selves now shew
Worthy Your present Fame, and Cannæ to
Your Thoughts recall. As thus He sought to raise,
And fix with Words, their Minds, with wanton Ease
Made dull, and through Prosperity decay'd;
And, as he there the Avenues survai'd,
A shining Temple, on the Top of all
The Tower He spy'd, whose fam'd Original
Thus, Capua's cruel Captain, Virius told.

In this Our Age, that Fabrick You behold,
Was not (said He) erected, greater Hands
Built it: when Dædalus liv'd in the Lands
Of the Dictæan King (thus Fame doth say)
To quit the Earth, by flying, He the Way
First found; none else, in all the World, did dare,
On borrow'd Wings, himself into the Air
To lift, and shew men how to fly. But He,
His floating Body poising equally
Amidst the Clouds, soon mounted out of Sight;
Like a strange Bird, affrighting in His Flight
The very Gods. His Son likewise assumes,
By his Advice, the Shape of borrow'd Plumes,
To try the waies of Birds. But Him again
He fal'n beheld, beating the troubled Main
With his unhappy Wings, and broken Oars
Of Quills; and, as Indulgent, he deplores
His sudden Fate, moving his Hands unto
His Breast, unmindefull whither He would go,
Sorrow his Flight delay'd: but, to appear
Gratefull for his Cloud-wandring Passage, there
To Phœbus he first built that Holy Fane;
And lai'd aside his daring Wings again.

This Virius. But Hannibal each Day
Pass'd without Action Numbers, of that Stay,

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And cross asham'd he Sighs, and Quits the Town,
Resolv'd to satiate his Grief upon
The Dicarchæan City: but ev'n there
The Sea, and Industry of those, that were
Within, and lofty Walls, repell his Rage.
And, while a Tedious Labour doth engage
His Army, there to force a Passage, through
The rough obstructed ways, He takes a view
Of the Mirac'lous Pools, and Soil not far
From thence. The Chief of Capua present are;
And one among the rest begins to show,
Whence the warm Baiæ were so call'd, and how
One of the Fam'd Dulichian Ship, which came
Upon that Coast, left to that Pool his Name.
Another tells, the Lucrine Lake of old
Was call'd Cocytus; and commends the Bold
Adventure of Alcides, 'midst the Sea,
When He disperst its Waves, and brought away
Th'Iberian Heard: how Styx its Antient Name
Had to Avernus chang'd, of greatest Fame
Among those Silent Lakes: then the Dark Face
Of Groves, and Shadows, that invest the Place.
Fatal to Birds, it breaths, into the Air,
A dire Contagion, and is ev'ry where
Renown'd, for Stygian Worship. Near to this,
(As Fame reports) a Dreadful Pool there is,
Which leads to Acheron, and, op'ning wide
With a Deep Gulf, divides, on either Side,
The gaping Earth, and sometimes doth affright
The Ghosts below with unexpected Light.
Not far from this, the Place all Dark, they tell,
Where the Cymmerian People long did dwell,
In a Tartarean City, under Ground,
Press'd with Infernal Clouds, and Night profound.

327

At length, they shew those Famous Fields, that Fire,
Sulphur, and boiling Brimstone still expire.
From the parch'd Entrails of the Groaning Earth
Black Vapours break, like Waves, and, at their Birth,
Into the Air cast Stygian Blasts, that from
The trembling Caves, with dreadful Murmurs, come.
And as, sometimes, the Fire beats round about
Those hollow Rooms, and Labours to get out,
It sadly Bellows, with a threatning Sound,
And tears the mangled Entrails of the Ground,
Destroys the shaking Mountains, eaten through
With Flames. The Gyants there (if Fame say true)
Subdu'd by Hercules, the Earth that's cast
Upon them shake, and, often breathing, Blast
The Fields, and, when they Threaten to prevail,
And break their Chains, the very Heav'ns grow Pale.
There cruel Mimas Prison; Prochyté
Appears: and, farther off, Inarimé;
Which, with Black Storms, fuming Japetus down
Doth press. While frequent sulph'rous Flames are thrown
From his Rebellious Mouth, and, if he should
At any time get loose, again He would
Against the Gods, and Jove, the War renew.
Not far from these Vesuvian Cliffs they shew,
And on the Top the Rocks, devoured still
By Flames, with Ruins, round the broken Hill,
And Stones, that equal Ætna's Fates: and there
He sees Misenus, in his Sepulcher,
Keeping his Trojan Name, and on the Shore
Th'Herculean Bauli. Thus doth he explore.
With Wounder, both the threatnings of the Sea,
And Labours of the Land. These seen, away
To th'Pherecyades high Walls he hasts,
And the Nysæan Top of Gaurus wasts,

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Fertile in Gen'rous Vines. From thence amain
His Troops he leads to Nola; (in a Plain
Nola is scitnate, encompass'd round
With num'rous Tow'rs, guarding the Level Ground
With a deep Trench) but there Marcellus, who
Assum'd not Arms to be protected so
By Tow'rs, who would have Valour onely made
Their Wall's Defence, brought them both Strength, and Aid.
He, when far off the Libyan Fleet he spy'd,
Which thither Steer'd, and tow'rds the Walls apply'd
The Flow'r of all their Force; To Arms, said He;
The cruel Fo draws near. And instantlie,
Exclaiming thus, his Arms he takes in Hand;
And strait the eager Youth about him stand,
And in a Rage (as Custom was) put on
Their bloudy Casks. Then, running up and down,
The Troops he orders thus; Nero, by Thee
That Port, on the Right-Hand, shall guarded be:
Thou Tullus, who the Volci's Glory art,
Thy Larinantian Ensigns shalt divert,
And Country Cohorts, to the Lest; and, when
I give the Word, with sudden Fury then,
And Silence, force the Gates, and pour into.
The Fields your Show'rs of Darts against the Fo;
Into the Midst of them I'le charge, and force
From th'open Gates the Skirmish of their Horse.

As thus Marcellus spoke, the Libyans strove
The Bars, and Pallisadoes, to remove,
And the despised Walls to scale. Then, round
The Town, the Trumpets, and shrill Cornets sound,
With Shouts of Men, hoarse Horns, and clashing Arms
Against their furious Limbs. With these Alarms
The Elephants advance, incited by
The Darts upon them thrown: and suddenly,

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Like a rude Storm, the Troops of Horse came on,
And charg'd. As when, the Banks, & Locks, o'rethrown,
Unruly Rivers Inundations make:
Or, driv'n by Boreas, foaming Billows break
Against the Rocks: Or, an Eruption made
From their dark Prisons, Winds the Land invade.

Nor with that dreadfull Sight of Arms, and Men,
Could Libya hope to gain the Place. For then,
On's frighted Steed, the Dardan General
Advanc'd, and at their flying Backs, withall
His Fury, press'd His Lance: invoking thus
His Friends; The Gods, and Time, now favour Us.
Go on, this leads to Capua's Walls. And then,
Turning upon the Enemy agen;
Stay, whither haste Ye? I do not (said He)
Upbraid thy flying Men, but rather Thee,
Perfidious Hannibal; for in our Hands
The War, this present Field, and Army stands:
I'le quit Thy Troops from Slaughter, let Them see
A single Combate between Thee, and Me.
Marcellus this demands! This said, the Fame,
And Value, of the Danger did enflame
Him with the Libyan to begin the Fight.
But this to Juno was no pleasing Sight;
Who Him diverted, hasting to His Fall,
From what He then design'd: while Hannibal
Strives all He can to Rally, and to Stay
His frighted Troops. Such then from Capua,
And from those fatal Mansions, do We come?
(Said He) Oh stand, ye Wretches; You, whose Summ
Of Glory, is Dishonour! Credit Me,
No Place will Faithfull prove to You, that flee:
You have deserv'd, that all Ausonia now
Should rise against You; and it is from You,

330

You, that with so great Terrour routed are,
That all may both of Peace, and Life despair.
His Voice suppress'd the Trumpet's Sound; and, though
Obstructed, through their Ears, his Clamours go.

In Græcian Arms young Pedianus stood,
Most fierce in Fight, and from that Trojan Blood
Himself derived, that from Antenor came.
Nor less, then His Original, in Fame
Was He, Sacred Timavus Glory, and
A Name belov'd in the Euganëan Land.
To Him, nor Father Po, nor those, that boast
Their Aponus, nor the Venetian Coast
Could any Equal finde. Whether he fought,
Or in a studious Life the Muses sought,
Or tun'd Aönian Ditties with his Quill,
Not any was more famous for His Skill:
As He, in full Career, did close pursue
The Libyans at their Backs; and, near them, knew
The Cask, and Noble Spoils, of Paulus slain,
Worn by young Cinyps, who rejoyc'd (in vain)
In that great Favour of his General.
This Cinyps was belov'd by Hannibal:
None was, then He, more Beautifull in Face,
None in the Fore-Head had a greater Grace;
So shines that Ivory, that, in the Air
Of Tibur bred, Time never can impair;
Or Gems of the Red-Sea, which in the Ear,
For Whiteness of admired Price, We wear.
Him Glorious in His Helmet, and His Crest
Well known, in the last Rank, among the Lest,
When Pedianus spy'd, and to His Eys
Paulus, from Shades below, appear'd to rise,
Gnashing his Teeth, he charg'd him; Must (said He)
The Trophies of that Sacred Head by Thee

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Be worn; which not, without the Crime of all
The Gods, and Envy, ev'n your General
Could wear? See Paulus! (and, with that, upon
The Ghost of Paulus calls to see it done)
And, as he fled, his Lance, with all his Force,
Thrusts in his Side; then, lighting from his Horse,
Tears off the Cask, and Trophies of the Great
Consul, with his Right-Hand, and, while he yet
Could see, despoils him of his Honour: all
His Beauty is dissolved in his Fall.
And strait a Stygian Colour over-casts
His Snow-white Limbs, and all the Glory blasts
Of His admired Form; His Amber Hair
Disorder'd falls; His limber Neck can bear
No more its former Weight; but, as opprest,
Sinks with His Head into His Milky Breast.
So, when then Cythereian Star again
Rising, refresh'd, from the Eöan Main,
Himself to Venus boasts, if Clouds invade
His Face, the Lustre of his Beams will fade,
And soon, decreasing in that Mask of Night,
Retires his languishing, and fainting Light.
Ev'n Pedianus, as he takes in Hand
His Helmet, at his naked Face doth stand
Amaz'd, and checks his Rage, and then away
Bearing, with Shouts, unto his Friends his Prey,
He Spurs his furious Steed; which Stains with Gore,
From his fierce Mouth, the frothy Reins he wore.
But, then Marcellus, fierce in Arms, came on,
And meeting Him, the Honour He had won
Thus gratulates. Go, Antenorides,
Go on; and by such valiant Acts, as these,
Surpass thy Ancestours: it now (said He)
Remains, the Spoils of Hannibal should be

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Our Prize. Then, fir'd with Rage, his fatal Lance,
With dreadfull Noise, he threw; nor had, perchance,
His Wish been vain, had not the Obvious Force
Of Gestar with his Body stop'd the Course
O'th'flying Shaft: for, while He, fighting near
At Hand, defends his General, the Spear,
Not aim'd at Him, past through Him, ending all
His mighty Threatnings in His changed Fall.
With that the General, with Speed, withdrew,
Struck with the Danger of his Death, and to
The Camp retir'd. Then, with a Headlong Rout,
The Libyan Army turn'd their Arms about,
And all contend, who shall most Speedy fly:
Their Enemies Pursue, and satisfie
The long-contracted Anger of their Woes;
While ev'ry Man with Emulation shows
To the Revenging Gods, and Heav'n, His Sword,
All stain'd with Blood. That Day did first afford
That, which ev'n from the Gods none durst believe
Before; that it was possible to give
A Stand to Hannibal in Fight: but then
They took His Chariots, Elephants, and Men,
And strip'd the Living; and, thus joy'd to see,
That Hannibal did from the Slaughter flee,
Return. Marcellus to the God of War,
In Honour, is compar'd; and Greater, far,
In Triumph march'd, then when He once did bring
Opimous Spoils to the Tarpeian King.

But, when the Libyan Prince, with much ado,
Had from His Trenches forc'd the Conqu'ring Fo;
When, and with how much Hostile Blood, shall I
Wipe off this Stain? Ausonia saw Me fly.
Oh Jove! (said He) dost thou conclude, that I
Am worthy, after Trebia, thus to dy?

333

And You, My long-unconquer'd Troops! who are
(Alass!) now Vanquished without a War
By Capua's Wealth; I, not degenerate
From former Acts, have seen You turn of late
Your Conqu'ring Ensigns from the Latines, and
Shew'd them Your Backs: and, when I call'd to stand,
And fight, from Me You fled, Affrighted, all,
As if from the Italian General.
What then o'th'antient War remains (said He)
In You, who can, when I recall You, flee?
Thus Hannibal, while, with loud Shouts, their Prey
The Romane Troops to Nola bear away.

But Rome, which had been long inur'd to hear
The sad Disasters of their Friends, and ne're
Enjoy'd Success, the joyfull Tidings brought
At Length, how Happily they then had fought,
With that great Favour of the Gods erects
Her drooping Head, and Courage recollects.
But, first, those Coward Youths, that slowly to
The War were drawn; and, while it rag'd, withdrew,
And hid themselves from Danger, punish'd be
For their Concealment. Then with Infamy
They Mark all those, that, through a fond Desire
Of Life, had Arts invented to retire;
Or, in a League with Hannibal had bin
Involv'd: and purge the Nation from that Sin.
That fatal Counsel's punish'd, and Thy Crime
(Metellus) who consulted in a Time
Of Danger to desert Thy Native Land.
Such then the Hearts of Men: the Women stand
Resolv'd to equal them, and to require
A Share in Glory. Then their Antique Tire,
And Gems, which did their Heads, and Hands adorn,
And Carkanets, that from their Necks were torn,

334

The joyfull Matrons bring, and to the War
With Emulation Sacrifice; nor are
The Men unwilling, they should share so great
A Lot of Praise, and, to perpetuate
That Act, rejoice to give them Place. Next whom
A Noble Troop of Senatours doth come,
And all into the Publick Treasure heap
Their private Riches: none desire to keep
A secret Stock, in Store, for better Days:
But, ev'n the Vulgar strive the Banks to raise,
And with the Spoils of their poor Lares come.
Thus all her Limbs, and Her whole Body, Rome
At once employing, rais'd again to Heav'n
Her Bloodless Face: besides the Answer giv'n
At Cyrrha adds new Hopes, and seems t'allay
Their Woes; the Messengers reporting, they
Had joyfull Tidings heard, when from the Den
A Sacred Voice, like Thunder, broke, and when,
Inspir'd by Phœbus, the Prophetick Maid
This bellow'd out; Let all your Fears be lai'd
Aside, fair Venus Race! Whate're remain'd
Of Misery, in your sad War sustain'd,
Exhausted is: Light Labours are behinde,
And, without Dangers, Fears: be still inclin'd
To Pray'rs, and to the Gods Devotions pay;
Warm Sacrifices on their Altars lay:
Nor yield to Misery; for Mars will you
Assist, and the Cyrrhæan Prophet (who
Was ever prompt to ease the Trojans Woes)
Will all those Ills, that threaten you, oppose;
But let an hundred Altars, first of all,
Be Crow'nd with Fire, as many Victimes fall
To Jove; He this dire Cloud, and Storms of War
Shall, Violent, to Libya drive. From far

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Your selves shall see Him shaking, for the Fight,
His Ægis, which shall all the World affright.

When this, at Cyrrha sung, they did Proclaim,
And to the People's Ears Apollo came,
Up to the Capitol they flock amain,
There, prostrate to the God, the Holy Fane
With Blood they Honour, Pæans sing, and Jove
Entreat, the Answer may Authentick prove.

In the mean time, Torquatus, old in Arms,
Sardinia, with his Countrey's Force, Alarms:
For there (his Name from Trojan Blood deriv'd)
Hapsagoras unto the War, reviv'd,
The Tyrians call'd: brave Oscus was His Son,
Worthy a better Father, who, upon
His forward Youth relying, train'd His Young,
And tender Years (as Custom was among
Those Barb'rous Nations) in Arms. When He
Torquatus saw Advancing, furiously,
With hasty Ensigns, greedy to begin
The Fight; strait sallying forth, experienc'd in
Th'Advantage of the Place, a nearer Way
He takes, and, where thick Forests did display
Their shady Heads, through devious Paths, He flies,
And, in an hidden Vale, in Ambush lies.
The Isle, Man's Foot resembling, by the Sea
Encompass'd, and assaulted ev'ry Way
By Billows, and by Waves compress'd, contains
Vast Tracts of Land: at first the Græcian Swains
Call'd it Ichnusa; But, soon after these
(Boasting His Blood from Libyan Hercules)
From Himself, Sardus on the Land His Name
Impos'd; the Teucri likewise thither came,
And, there dispers'd through all the Sea, when Troy
Was overthrown, did forc'd Abodes enjoy.

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Then likewise, Iölaus, to the Land
No little Fame didst add; when with a Band
Of Thespians, in thy Father's Navy, there
Thou didst arrive. 'Tis said, when Cynthia Fair
Was by Actæon in the Fountain seen,
And, all his Members torn, his Crime had been
Sadly Reveng'd, affrighted at his strange
Unusual Fate, and his prodigious Change,
His Father Aristæus fled by Sea,
And to Sardinia came: they tell the Way
Unto that Coast, to Him before unknown,
Was by His Mother fam'd Cyrene shown.
The Countrey is from Serpents free, and void
Of Poison; but with Bogs, and Fens annoy'd,
The Air's unwholsom; where it looks upon
Th'Italian Shore, with Rocks, and Hills of Stone,
It breaks the sparkling Waves. Within, the Plains
With sultry South-Winds, when hot Cancer reigns,
Are Pale, and too much parch'd; but all the rest
Is Fertile, and with Ceres Favours blest.
Through this rude Tract of Land, & Pathless Groves,
The Fo, Torquatus oft deluding, moves,
And in Expectance of Iberian Aid,
And Tyrian Weapons, for the Battel stay'd.
At Length, the Fleet arriving, and his Men
Encourag'd more, without Delay, agen
He from his Covert leaps: and then at large
The adverse Troops drew out, and seem to charge,
And joyn, though Distant; and no Space between,
For hasty Darts, at Distance could be see:
Till, trustier Weapons, their try'd Swords they drew,
And then a cruel Slaughter doth ensue.
They kill, and fall alternately, and, on
Their fatal Points, descend to Acheron.

337

I cannot hope their num'rous Slaughters, and
So many horrid Acts, for a Command
So High, so Great, to utter, as I ought,
Or equal with my Words their Rage, that fought.
But Thou, Calliope, my Labours bless;
That, to Eternity, I may express
Our Poët's Noble Deeds, but little known
As yet, and Consecrate His due Renown!
Ennius, of King Mesâpus antient Line,
Who to the Honour of the Latine Vine
Did, by His Valour, add, led the Forlorn
To fight, sent thither from Calabria; born
Among the antient Rudiæ, now known
In His surviving Memory alone.
He (as, of old, the Thracian Singer, who,
When Cizycus with War shook Argos, threw
His Rhodopeian Darts, when He had lai'd
His Quill aside) with no small Slaughter made
Himself to be observ'd, when first he Charg'd,
And from the Slaughters of his Hand enlarg'd
His Fury. Oscus hoping, if that Stain
He wip'd away, Immortal Praise to gain,
Upon Him flies; and at Him throws his Spear,
With all His Force: Apollo, sitting near
Within a Cloud, derides what He design'd,
And, driving far the Shaft into the Winde,
Fond Youth (said He) Alass! Thou dost aspire
Loo high, to let His Spoils be thy Desire:
He 's Sacred, and the Muses greatest Care,
A Poët worthy Phœbus; who shall dare
The first, in Noble Verse, Italian Wars
To sing, and raise their Captains to the Stars:
He Helicon, with His Immortal Lays,
Shall make to Eccho; nor shall He in Praise,

338

Or Fame, unto the Old Ascræan yield.
Thus Phœbus; and through Oscus Temples thrill'd
A swift Revenging Dart: his sudden Fall
Makes the whole Army face about, and all
The Troops, affrighted, through the Champagn fled.
The Father, hearing that his Son was dead,
Groaning with Rage, pierc'd his own panting Breast,
And to the Shades below his Foot-steps prest.

But, Hannibal in Fight thus broken, and
Crush'd by Marcellus, wasts the Neighb'ring Land,
And turns His unjust Arms upon the Poor
Acerræ; which to Fire, and Sword, giv'n o're,
With no less Rage He on Neuceria falls,
And levels with the Ground her stately Walls.
Next, Casilinum's Gates, that long had bin
Stoutly defended by their Arms within,
By Fraud with much ado he gain'd, and sold
Unto the starv'd Besieg'd their Lives for Gold.
And then into the Daunian Fields He falls,
And, to what Place soe're His Malice calls,
Or Plunder doth invite, His Fury turns.
Then, smoaking in Her Fall, Petilia burns,
Unhappy in her Faith, the next to sad
Sagunthus Fate, and Proud, that once She had
Alcides Quiver kept. To th'Libyan Side
Tarentum, after this, her self apply'd,
And gave them Entrance; but a Latine Band,
Relying on the Place's Strength, remain'd
A strong Reserve within the Cittadel.
Here he remov'd his Navy (strange to tell)
That ready Rigg'd within the Harbour lay;
For, at two narrow Mouths, the crouded Sea
Breaks out between two Rocks, and, with a Large
Recess, a secret Ocean doth discharge

339

Into the Plains: But He the Ships (that there
Block'd up, by th'Arcenal Commanded were)
By Stratagem, recover'd from the Sea's
Embrace, another Way by Land conveys.
First slipp'ry Planks on ev'ry Oaken Wain
Were lai'd, and Hides of Oxen newly slain:
The nimbly-turning Wheels, through Meadows, drew
Theïr Load; and then o're lofty Hills, and through
Thick Groves, the Fleet arriv'd, upon the Shore,
And swum, brought to the Sea, without the Oar.

But Fame (the Navy by no usual Way
Transported) Him, that terrifi'd the Sea,
Now fills with frequent Cares (while He pursu'd
The War far off, and hop'd to have subdu'd
Th'Oëbalian Race) that Capua was then
On ev'ry Side besieg'd, the Bars agen
O'th' Gates forc'd open, and quite overthrown,
And the whole War upon that Wretched Town
Was turn'd. Enrag'd, He quits that Enterprize;
And, Shame, and Anger, Wings affording, flies
The next Way thither, with prodigious Haste,
And Threatning, to the Fight, desired, past.
So, of her Young depriv'd, a Tigress flies
From Covert, and with Rage-inflamed Eys
Explores all Caucasus, and in few Hours,
With the like Speed, o're Ganges Borders scours;
Till in her Course, their Tract She apprehend,
And on her Fo, surpriz'd, her Fury spend.

Him, in his March, Centenius (rashly prone
To all Attempts, and Dangers) falls upon
With sudden scatter'd Troops, but yet with small
Honour to the Sidonian General:
For, Rich in Latine Vines, the Pesants He
Had round about Him rais'd, and suddenly

340

An half-Arm'd Band oppos'd against the Fo.
Twice sev'n were slain, and still they forward go:
Then twice sev'n thousand Fulvius (then He
No more expert, but of a Family
Renown'd in Arms) all well Appointed led:
But He still over Heaps of scatter'd Dead,
A Conquerour, goes on, and cuts his Way
Through all; nor in his March admits Delay.
But the Ambitious vain Desires to raise
Unto Himself the empty Name, and Praise,
Of a Brave, Gen'rous Minde, upon Him call
To solemnize a joyfull Funeral.
For, while a Parley Gracchus did demand,
And the perfidious Promise entertain'd
Of the Lucanian People, (Sad to tell)
By His Host's Treachery, surpriz'd, He fell;
And Hannibal with Greediness assum'd
The wish'd for Praise, to see His Corps entomb'd.
But, soon as it was known, that, with such Haste,
To the Campanian Walls the Libyan past,
Affairs no where stand still. Both Consuls take
The Field with Speed. Nola, and Arpis make
What Strength they can; Young Fabius, among
The Rest, His hasty Forces brings along.
There Nero, here Syllanus, Day, and Night
Their Cohorts speed to the desired Fight,
And from all Quarters come; resolving all
Their Gen'rals to oppose 'gainst Hannibal
Alone. While, nearer to Tifata, He
Advances, where the Hill's Vicinity
Press'd on the Neighb'ring Walls; and, looking down
From that near Height, survays the lower Town.

But, when such numbers of Allies He found,
Which with their Arms the Gates encompass'd round,

341

That Entrance was deny'd to Him alone,
And that they could not sally from the Town,
Doubtfull of the Event, sometime He thought
Through all, that then oppos'd Him, to have fought
A Passage with His Sword; and then declin'd
Again whate're before He had design'd;
And seeks those Myriads by Policy
To draw from the besieged Gates, and free
Th'inclosed Walls. Thus therefore His resolves
He with Himself debates, and Cares revolves.
Oh! whither tend My troubled Thoughts? Shall I
In this unequal Place new Dangers try,
And Capua see Me fly? Or sitting still,
Upon the Top of this adjoyning Hill,
Shall I endure this Town of My Allies
To be destroy'd, and fall before mine Eys?
Such Me nor Fabius, nor Minutius found,
When I escap'd from Hills encompass'd round
With armed Troops: With Victory, compell'd
The affrighted Herd to scatter, through the Field,
Flames from their burning Horns, where e're they run.
Nor yet are all My Arts, and Projects done:
If Capua cannot now defended be
By Us, yet Rome may be Besieg'd. When He
Had thus His Resolution fix'd, before
The Sun had rais'd from the Eöan Shore
His Horses, breathing Day, both with His Hand,
And Voice, He draws His Troops together, and
Declares His high Design. Go on (said He)
My Souldiers, let all Difficulties be
Surmounted by Your Valour, and (as fast,
As You can March away) now boldly haste;
To Rome You go: this March the Alps to You,
This Cannæ did decree. Go, and into

342

Th'Ilîack Walls your Targets drive, and there
Retalliate Capua's Ruins, which so dear
Shall cost, that you shall see high Tow'rs, and Jove
From his Tarpeian Temple to remove:

Instructed thus, away the Army hies:
Rome in their Ears, Rome onely in their Eys
Is fix'd; and they believe the Diligence
Of Hannibal that Action did commence
More aptly, then had He conducted them
From the Ætolian fatal Field. The Stream
Of swift Vulturnus overpast, the Rear,
To stop th'Italians, that behinde them were,
Burn all their Boats; and then, with nimble Bands,
March over all the Sidicinian Lands,
And Thracian Cales, that its antient Name
Did from thy Son (fair Orithya) claim:
Then Alifanus, that great Plenty yields
Of Bacchus Fruits, and the Casinian Fields,
Inhabited by Nymphs; and straitway, near
To those, Aquinas, and Fregellæ, where
The smoaking Giant buried lies, in Haste
They over-run: Then, with like Speed, they past
O're lofty Hills, where Warlike Frusino
Sticks on hard Rocks, and where Anagnia too
Hangs on a rising Hill, and Plenty yields
Of Corn. At length, into Labîcus Fields,
And Plains, He enters, and those Walls declines,
Batter'd by Telegon. His high Designs,
Admit no Stop: nor pleasant Algida,
Nor yet Gabinian Juno's Tow'rs can stay
His March; but on, like a rude Storm, He goes
To those low Banks, where Anyo gently Flows
With sulph'rous Waters, and, with Silence, to
Old Tiber's Arms. When here the Line He drew

343

Of's Camp, and set His Standard up, and shook
The Banks with's Cavalry; first, Ilia, strook
With Fear, flies to her Husband's Sacred Cave,
And all the frighted Nymphs the Waters leave.

But the Italian Dames, as if they had
No Walls at all, Affrighted run, like Mad,
About the Streets; and, figur'd by their Fear,
Those wounded Ghosts before their Eys appear,
That at sad Trebia, and Ticinus Stream,
Were slain; brave Paulus, Gracchus, and with them
Flaminius seems to wander up, and down.
The Waies, and all the Passes of the Town
Are throng'd. The Stately Senate troubled to
Behold their Fear, endeavour to subdue
Their sad Distraction with an angry Frown;
Yet Tears sometimes, with Silence, trickle down
Under their Helmets, as they Doubtfull are,
What Fortune threatens, or the Gods prepare.
Through their high tow'rs, the youth dispersed, thought
Affairs were then to such a Period brought,
That 't was enough, for Rome, Her Walls to keep.

But Hannibal, who scarce the whole Night's Sleep
Had to His weary Souldiers granted, rose
Betimes, an Enemy to all Repose,
And thinking whatsoever Time was spent
In Slumber, that so much from Life was rent,
His Radiant Arms puts on, commands His Light
Numidians to break forth: and then, in Sight
Of frighted Rome, with Nimble Coursers, round
About her trembling Bulwarks, with a Sound,
Like Thunder, Rides. Sometimes the sev'ral Ways
The Avenues, and Passes He survays:
Now 'gainst the Barricado'd Gates His Spear
He strikes, and seems delighted with their Fears:

344

Then, Pleas'd, He to the lofty Hills retires,
And, entring with His Eys the Town, enquires
Of Places, and their Causes: and in that
Survey had taken Time to penetrate
Into all Parts, and ev'ry thing had seen;
Had Fulvius, with a strong Relief, not been
At Hand: nor was the Siege of Capua quite
Relinquish'd; but the Libyan, with the Sight
Of Rome much satisfied in His Desires,
With His insulting Troops, to th'Camp retires.

But, when the Night from Heav'n was chas'd away,
And with the first Appearance of the Day
The Ocean blush'd, and Morn reviv'd again
Their Labours, breaking down the Works, amain
He pours His Forces out, and with a Cry,
As loud as He could make; Oh Souldiers! by
Our many Trophies, and our Hands in Blood
Now Sacred, make (said He) Your Wishes good:
Equal Your own Desires; Attempt, and Dare
As much in Arms, as Rome hath Cause to Fear.
Destroy this Heap, and there is Nought for You
In all the World beside left to subdue:
Nor let the Fame of their Original
From Mars retard You; You that City shall
Now take by Myriads, enter'd long ago
Of Warlike Senones, accustom'd to
Be taken; and, perhaps, amidst their Fears,
Their Senatours in their Triumphal Chairs,
Like their Fore-Fathers, sit, expecting by
Your Hands a Noble Death, resolv'd to dy.

Thus He: but the Oënotrian Youth require
No Language of their General, to fire
Their Thoughts: their Wives, and Children, with their Dear
Parents, that up to Heav'n, lamenting, rear

345

Their feeble Palms, sufficiently excite
Their Courage; and, presenting to their Sight
Their Babes, ev'n penetrating with their Cry
Their Hearts, their armed Hands with Kisses ply.
On they desire to go, and to oppose
Their Bodies, for their Walls, against their Foes:
Then, on their Friends reflecting, swallow down
Their Tears: But, when the Gates were open thrown,
And the whole Army sallyed forth, a Cry,
Mingled with Pray'rs, and Groans, invades the Sky,
From the high Walls: the Matrons, with their Hair
Dishevel'd, howle, and lay their Bosoms bare.

But, Fulvius, flying out before the rest,
Exclaims, Who knows not, that the Libyans prest,
Through a Necessity, to come before
Our Walls? He flies from Capua's Gates:—As more
He would have said, with horrid Murmurs, from
The broken Clouds, loud Cracks of Thunder come.
For, when the threatning Libyan Father Jove
(As He from Æthiopia did remove)
Beheld approaching near the Romane Walls,
The other Gods he strait together calls,
Commands the Dardan Temples to defend,
And quickly into the sev'n Tow'rs descend.
Himself, high seated on the Capitol,
Musters up all his Forces, summons all
The Winds, and Clouds, with Storms of Hail: then powr's
Thunder, and Lightning down, with Stygian Show'rs.
The Poles with Horrour shake, the Heav'ns are quite
Obscur'd; the Earth is cover'd o're with Night;
The Tempest blinds their Eys; and Rome, though near,
To the approaching Fo doth disappear.
Flames, from the Clouds, upon the Army, thrown,
Continue still their Noise, and hiss upon

346

Their blasted Limbs: here Notus, Boreas there,
And Africus, with Cloudy Wings appear,
And War with such a Rage, and Fury, move,
As might suffice the Wrath, and Minde of Jove:
Then sudden Cataracts of Water fall,
Mix'd with black Storms, and Blasts, and cover all
The Neighb'ring Champagn with a foaming Flood.
Jove on the Top of all the Mountain stood,
And, as He Thunder poiz'd in his Right-Hand,
It 'gainst the Shield of Hannibal (His Stand
Not yet resolv'd to quit) with Fury throws:
His Lance's Head strait melts, and His Sword flows,
As from the Forge it were but newly ta'ne.

At length, His Arms thus burnt, He doth restrain
His Men, declares the Vanity of all
That secret Fire, that from the Clouds did fall,
And Murmurs intermix'd with Winds: But, then,
After so many Miseries of His Men,
And Ruins, pour'd from Heav'n, the Fo not seen,
Nor Sword in all the Storms, that there had been;
He bids His fainting Army to retire
To Camp, and sadly thus revives His Ire.
Well: to the Winds, and Winter-Storms, Thou now
(Oh Rome) the Safety of one Day dost ow:
But Thee the Morrow's Light shall not defend
From Us; though angry Jove himself descend
To Earth, to guard Thee. And, as this He spoke,
From the clear Heav'ns a sudden Lustre broke,
And all the Clouds dispers'd. The purged Sky
Shin'd out again, the Romanes instantly
Perceiv'd the God, and straitway, laying all
Their Arms aside, to the high Capitol
Erect their humble Hands; and, Pious, round
The Sacred Hill, their joyfull Laurel bound:

347

And then the chearfull Face of Jove, bedew'd,
Of late, with no small Sweat, thus praying, View'd.
Grant Father Jove (say They) Thou Chief of all
The Gods! O, grant, that Hannibal may fall
By thine own Sacred Shaft, in Fight! for none
Can Him destroy, We fear, but Thou alone.
As thus they pray'd, the Ev'ning 'gan t'invest
The Earth with Shades, and Silence stop'd the rest.

But Night, by Sol dispers'd, as from the Sea
He rais'd his Lamp, and use of Life, with Day,
Restor'd to Mortals, Hannibal agen
Came on: nor did the Romane Youth within
Their Trenches keep. But, when they came as near
To fight, as one might well have thrown a Spear,
Their Swords scarce drawn, the Light of Heav'n began
To fail, thick Darkness suddenly o'reran
The Skies, the new-born Day was put to Flight;
And Jove began again to arm for Fight,
The Winds blew high, and a thick Globe of Show'rs,
By Auster driv'n along, grew Hot; Jove pou'rs
His Thunder down, by which he Atlas shakes,
With Taurus, Pindus, Rhodope: the Lakes
Of Erebus it heard, and, buried far
In Darkness, once again Celestial War
Typhæus saw. Now Notus, whistling loud,
Comes on, and whirling round a pitchy Cloud,
Full fraught with Hail, the Libyan charg'd, in Vain
Struggling, and threatning, and Him forc'd again
Into His Camp: but He no sooner there
Had lai'd His Arms aside; but strait a clear,
And joyfull Face of Heav'n again was shown:
Nor could you think mild Jove his Bolts had thrown,
Or had with Thunder torn the Peacefull Sky.
All this He, vex'd, endures with Constancy,

348

And oft affirming, the ensuing Day
No more should be against them. Onely they
Their Valour of their Countrey must assume,
And, lest they should believe to ruin Rome
Might prove a Sin, Where was (I pray, said He)
The Thunder of their Conqur'ing Jove, when We
With these our Swords th'Ætolian Champagn strow'd
With Slaughter? when the Tyrrhen Pools o'reflow'd
With Humane Blood. If now the King of Gods
Fights for the Romane Walls, with so much Ods
Of Thunder thrown; Why strikes He not at Me,
Who fight against Him 'midst this Noise? No; We
Most poorly turn Our Backs to Storms, and Winde:
Oh! (pray) resume that Courage, and that Minde,
Which, while as yet the Leagues, and the Decrees
Of Senate were in Force, did prompt Us these
Our Arms to take in Hand. Thus ev'ry Breast
He fires, till Sol his weary Steeds releast.
The following Night could not His Cares allay;
Sleep durst not once approach Him: With the Day
His former Rage returns, and then agen
He summons to the Fight His frighted Men,
And strikes His dreadfull Shield; the Noise, and Storms
Of Heav'n so imitating, with His Arms.

But when He found, that Rome so confident
Was of the Gods, that She Supplies had sent
Unto the Betick Coast, and that by Night
The Troops march'd from the Walls full of Despight,
And Rage, that the Besieg'd such Leisure had,
(As now secure of Hannibal) more Mad
He presseth forward; and Advanceth near
The Walls: when Juno, almost sick with Care,
Thus Jove with Counsel seeks to qualifie.
Sister (said He) and Wife, most Dear to Me,

349

When wilt thou check this Tyrian Youth? or when
Wilt thou restrain this furious Man agen?
Let it suffice, Sagunthus to destroy,
To level the high Alps, and to annoy,
And Chains impose upon the Sacred Po,
And to pollute the Lakes. He's ready now
Into Our Temples, and Our Tow'rs to break.
Stop Him, for you may see (as now We speak)
How He prepares, how He for Fire exclaims,
To imitate Our Thunder with His Flames.

To this Saturnia giving Thanks, through Air
(Much troubled) to the Earth descends, and there
Seising the Youth's Right-Hand; Whither, said She,
Thou Mad-Man, dost Thou run? and, not to be
Maintain'd by Mortals, dost a War pursue?
'Tis Juno speaks to Thee: (with that She drew
Her Vail of Clouds away, and shew'd her Face)
Thou hast not now with Phrygian Swains (Alass)
Or the Laurentines, to contend: behold!
(For 'Ile remove the Mist awhile, t'unfold
All Things to Thee) observe, and see Thou where
That Hill's high Top ascends into the Air,
(The Palace call'd of the Parrhasian King)
By Phœbus 'tis possess'd; who, menacing,
Prepares his Ecchoing Quiver, and his Bow
For Fight: but where upon the lofty Brow
Of Neighb'ring Hills, the Aventine doth rise,
See! how Diana shakes, before thine Eys,
Her Torches, fir'd from Phlegethon! how She
Hath strip'd her Arms for Fight! Then that way see,
How Mars, in cruel Arms, that Field, that bears
His Name, hath fill'd! there Janus, furious, Wars;
And here Quirinus: ev'ry Deity
Fights from his Hill; but then observe with me,

350

How Jove his Ægis, breathing Storms, and Fire
Shakes, and with how great Flames he feeds his Ire:
Or this way turn thy Face, and, if Thou dare,
Behold the Thunderer, what Tempests are
Beneath his Nod! or, when he shakes his Head,
What Thunder falls! what dreadfull Flames are shed
Against Thine Eys! at length, give Way unto
The Gods, nor such Titanian Wars pursue.

This said, the Man, intractable to Peace,
Or Rule, yet wondring at the stormy Face,
And fiery Members of the Gods, with Pain
Away She drew, and Peace to Heav'n again,
And Earth, restor'd. He, looking still behinde,
Retires, and to the Camp, much vex'd in Minde,
Commands His Ensigns strait to march away,
And threatens to return another Day;
When through the Air a clearer Light displaies
It self, and Phœbus gilds the trembling Seas.

But, when the Romanes from the Walls beheld
Far off, that Hannibal had left the Field,
And pull'd His Ensigns up, they, Silent, view
Each other's Face; and, Nodding onely, shew
That, which as yet, through Greatness of their Fear,
They durst not then believe, nor willing were
To think Him gone; but rather, that He then
Practis'd His Punick Frauds, and Arts agen.
In this Suspense each silent Mother stands,
Kissing her Children, till the Punick Bands
Quite vanish'd from their Eys, and, Fear remov'd,
All his suspected Plots but Fancies prov'd.
Then to the Sacred Capitol they throng,
And, mutually imbracing, chant a Song
Of Triumph to Tarpeian Jove: and, there
Adorn the Temple of the Thunderer.

351

Now all the Gates fly open, ev'ry where
Those Joys, which they so lately did despair,
The People rush to see: these view the Place,
Where the Sidonian King's Pavilion was,
And where He proudly, from a lofty Throne,
Spoke to his summon'd Troops; those look upon
The Place, where Warlike Astur lay, and where
Fierce Getes, and cruel Hanno Quarter'd were.
This done, their Bodies purg'd in living Springs,
Each Hand its Aid, to build up Altars, brings
To th'Anienian Nymphs; and, Joyfull, then
Hallowing the Wall, return to Rome agen.

The End of the Twelfth Book.

353

The Thirteenth Book.

The Argument.

Repuls'd by Storms, and Lightning, from the Gates
Of Rome, resolv'd to try again the Fates,
The Libyan returns. Agrippa shows
What Miseries, and Plagues attended those,
That fought against the Places, that contain'd
The fam'd Palladium. By this restrain'd,
Away He marcheth to the Rhegian Coast:
In the mean time besieged Capua's lost.
What Wealth, and Trophies, there the Romanes gain,
In Spain two Noble Scipioes are slain.
Grief, for his Friends, oppressing Him, and Cares,
Young Scipio to Autonöe repairs.
Apollo's Priestess, who, by Magick Spels,
Cumæan Sybil's Ghosts doth raise, which tells
To Him ensuing Fates, describeth Hell,
And where the Blessed Souls, in Pleasure dwell.

The Capitol's high Top He scarce discern'd
In His slow March, when strait the Libyan turn'd
Towards the City His fierce Eys again,
Preparing to return, and in that Plain

354

Encamp'd, where Bankless Thuria overflows
The level Meadows; and, Inglorious, goes
Into the Thuscan Sea, a silent Stream.
Here sometimes on his chiefest Friends the Blame,
Sometimes upon the God's commands, he laies,
Then on Himself. Tell me at length (He saies)
Thou, by whose slaughtring Hand the Lidyan Lake
Increas'd, who mad'st the Daunian Land to shake
With Thunder of thine Arms, discourag'd now,
Into what Countrey back again, dost Thou
Thine Ensigns bear? What Sword Thy Breast, what Spear
Hath pierc'd? Should Towred Carthage now appear
Before thine Eys, what Reason couldst Thou yield
Souldier, unwounded thus to quit the Field?
Wouldst Thou alledge from Storms (dear Countrey) I
From Tempests mix'd with Blood, and Thunder, fly?
Let this Effeminate Stain be far, Oh far,
From Tyrian People, as unfit for War,
But in fair Weather, and in Air that's clear.

The Army, though as yet a Panick Fear
O'th' Gods possess'd them, and a recent Smel
Of Lightning on their Arms, as yet, did dwell;
And 'fore their Eys the Fight of angry Jove:
Yet still a Vigour to obey, and move,
Whereever He should them command, appears,
And, by degrees diffus'd into their Ears,
(By what He said) Desire in ev'ry Breast
To bear their Ensigns back again, encreast:
As when a Stone the Water breaks, it makes,
At first, small Rings; but as its Motion shakes
The trembling Liquour, while it still descends,
The numerous Orbs increase, till it extends
The curling Circle, ev'ry Way, so wide,
That it may touch the Banks on either side.

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But, contrary to this, Agrippa (who
His fam'd Descent from Diomedes drew)
Among th'Oëtolian People, much Renown'd,
And of a Noble Name, with Riches Crown'd,
But Faithless, and, when Rome's Affairs declin'd,
With the successfull Libyan had joyn'd;
Revolving these Traditions, that of old
To him his Ancestours before had told,
Thus pleads; When Teucrine Pergamus with long
Protracted War was shaken, and among
The Grecian Souldiers, unengag'd in Blood,
The God of War before the Rampires stood,
Calchas (for this, full oft at the Request
Of Daunus, kept within his faithfull Breast,
Amidst their Feasts did Diomed express)
Calcas assur'd the doubtfull Greeks, unless
The fatal Image of the Warlike Maid,
Kept in the Arcenal, they thence essai'd
To gain, the Spartan Arms should ne're prevail
O're Troy, nor should they, with their Honour, sail
Back to Amycle. For it was by Fate
Ordain'd, that none those Walls should penetrate,
That did possess that Image, and then Our
Tydides, joyn'd with Ithacus, the Tow'r
Entred by Stratagem, and having slain
The Guard, just at the Entrance of the Fane,
Thence the Celestial Image strait convai'd,
And Troy unto our Fates was open lai'd.
But, when, on the Oënotrian Coast, he built
A City, troubled at his former Guilt,
T'appease the Phrygian Goddess with His Pray'rs,
And Ilian Gods, Devoutly He prepares.
Then, on a lofty Tow'r, a Temple strait
(To Trojan Pallas, a most hatefull Seat)

356

Was rais'd. When, 'midst his Sleep, the threatning Maid,
Discov'ring her great Deity, thus said;
This Fabrick, Diomed, which here you raise,
Unworthy's of the Honour of such Praise.
To Us Garganus, nor the Daunian Land
Are due: Him rather seek, whose Pious Hand
Now the first Walls of better Troy doth rear
In the Laurentine Fields. Go thither, there
That captiv'd Relique of their Fathers lay.
Troubled at this advice, He hasts away
To Saturn's Kingdom, where Anchises Son,
A Conqu'rer, then, Lavinian Troy begun,
And's Dardan Arms, in a Laurentine Grove,
Had fix'd. But, as the Daunian Fleet did move
Near Tiber's mouth, and Diomedes there
On Shore had pitch'd his shining Tents, with Fear
The Trojans trembled, till, in his Right-hand
A Pledg of Peace extending to the Land,
(An hoary Olive-bough) Tydæus Son,
Amidst the Trojans Murmurs, thus begun;

Thy mindeful Rage (Æneas) and thy Fear
Now confidently lay aside; whate're
At Troy, at Simöis, or Xanthus Flood,
Or near the Scæan Port, with so much Blood,
And Sweat, by Us was done, was not (Alass!)
Our Crime: the Gods, and Fate it brought to pass.
Now think on what remains; why do not We,
With better Auspicies of Time, agree
To live? Let's joyn our peaceful Hands: This shall
Be Witness of our League: and shew'd withall
Trojan Minerva from the Poop. By Her
Fell the Bold Gauls, that Rome invaded, nor
Of that Great People did there One remain,
That to his Native Land return'd again.

357

Dismai'd at this, the General his Bands
(Much joy'd, that they should March away) Commands
To pull their Ensigns up, and to remove
Into those Fertile Plains, where in a Grove
Wealthy Feronia's Worshipp'd, and o're all
The Grounds Capêna's Sacred Waters fall.
From Birth of Antient Faunus (as 'tis said)
Through a long Tract of time, together lay'd,
Great Wealth, by frequent Gifts encreas'd, and there,
Alone, preserv'd by a religious Fear,
The Gold untouch'd for many Ages lay:
Their barb'rous Hearts, and greedy Minds, the Prey
Pollutes, and arms them to contemn the Gods.
From thence it pleas'd him through remoter Rodes
To turn, where Fields, Plough'd by the Brutian Swain,
Extended are to the Trinacrian Main.

While, Discontented, thus the Libyans go
To th'Rhegian Coast, Brave Fulvius (the Fo
Remov'd from's Country) at the Walls appears
Of Capua, and to the Besieged bears
Th'unwelcom News. Their Miseries were than
Extreamly high, when Fulvius thus began
To all of Name in Arms: Take this Disgrace
Away by Valour. Shall this Treach'rous Place,
(To Us another Carthage) after all
Her violated Leagues, and Hannibal
Sent to our very Gates, Her proud Demand
Of an alternate, equal Consul, stand?
And from her lofty Turrets, now dismai'd,
Still look for Libyan Cohorts to her Aid?

Deeds to his Words he adds, and, streight, he calls
For Tow'rs of Oak, by which the highest Walls
He could surmount, and, instantly, commands
To joyn huge Beams with Cords, and Iron Bands,

358

By which the tallest Posts of Gates He brake,
And all Delays of Bars would quickly shake.
Here, fenc'd with Starlike Piles on ev'ry Side,
A Mount is rais'd, and there they are imploy'd
To raise the Vinea, arm'd above, and all
Soon done, which he could Necessary call,
He gives the Sign to scale the Walls, and fills
The Town with Terrour of impending Ills;
When suddenly an happy Omen shin'd
On His Attempts: an Hinde (which rare We finde
Of such a Colour) that the Swans, or Snow,
Surpass'd in Whiteness; which, when with his Plow
Capys the Circuit of those Walls design'd,
A Countrey-Present, taken with its Kinde
Familiarity (when Young) he fed,
And a kinde Sense of Man had in it bred.
All Wildness lost, She us'd to take her Stand
To feed at Table; by her Master's Hand
When stroak'd, much pleas'd, oft the Campanian Dames
Smooth'd her with Combs, and in the Neighb'ring streams
Renew'd her Whiteness: thus the Hind became
The Deity o'th' Place, and had for Name
Diana's Servant; and, as to a God,
With holy Ensigns they the Altars load.
Lusty, and strong in Life (though Aged) She
A thousand Years, with great Felicity,
Had past, and Houses built by Trojans there
Equal'd in Age; but now her Death was near:
For chac'd by cruel Wolves, that suddenly
Into the Town, (a dolefull Prodigie
In War) by Night had enter'd; as the Day
Began to break, out at the Gates, away
She ran, and, frighted, fled into the Plain,
Near to the Walls; where, by the Souldiers ta'ne,

359

(Who joyfully contended in the Chase)
To Thee, Latonian Goddess, on the Place
The General off'ring her (for unto Thee
He knew that Sacrifice must pleasing be)
Pray'd His Design might, by thine Aid, be crown'd:
And strait, relying on the Goddess, round
The City mov'd his Troops, and where into
An Orb the Walls were bent, obliquely, drew
A strongly-guarded Trench, and kept them there
Inclos'd with Arms, like Beasts in Toils. While Fear
Increas'd in others, with a stately Plume
Out at the Ports doth Warlike Taurea come,
Chafing His foaming Steed (to Him, for brave
Exploits, Maurusian Shafts the General gave
But lately, and an Autololian Band)
He spurring on his Steed, which scorn'd to stand,
Hearing the trembling Cornets, when so near
He came, that He perciev'd the Fo might hear
His Neighb'ring Call, said Claudius, (who i'th' Art
Of War excell'd, and Honour, with Desert,
In many a Fight had gain'd) if yet upon
His Valour He rely, may He alone
Enter the Field, and fight with Me. What stay'd
The Romane, when 'twas heard what He had said,
Was, that it was Ordain'd before, on Pain
Of Death, that none should dare to entertain
A single Fight, without the General's Leave.
But soon as Fulvius His Permission gave,
Into the open Plain, with Joy, he flies,
And strait thick Clouds of Dust, like Billows, rise.
But scorning all Assistance of the Thong,
Or Loop, to make His Weapon fly more strong,
Taurea, with his bare Strength, His Spear advanc'd,
And it with Headlong Rage, and Fury, lanc'd

360

Into the Air: while, of another Minde,
The brave Rutulian, seeking where to finde
A certain Place to give a Wound, now shook,
Then couch'd His Spear, and many a threatning Stroke
Pretends; till fix'd in's Shield his Jav'lin stood:
But was depriv'd of the desired Blood.
Then instantly he drew his Sword, when strait
Taurea, to fly the Menaces of Fate,
With his steel'd Heel drives on his nimble Steed.
While, at his Back, the Romane with a Speed,
Great as his Rage, pursu'd, and very near
Giving the Reins, approach'd him; and, as Fear
The Conquer'd, so the Conquerour Desire
Of his deserved Blood, Honour, and Ire
Into the Gates invite; and, while they there
Scarce Credit what they see, that He should dare,
Alone, to break into their Walls, and haste
So boldly through th'amazed Town, he past
Through th'adverse Port, and to his Friends retir'd.
With that th'Mindes of all the rest were fir'd
With the like Heat, and Industry t'invade
The Walls; and where he had a Passage made,
To enter, Flames, and Swords strait shine; then Showrs
Of Stones, and Darts, assault the highest Tow'rs:
None could the Rest in Courage to engage
Excell, all Hands were equall'd by their Rage.
Dictæan Shafts fly through the Air, and fall
With Wounds i'th' midst o'th' Town. The General
Is pleas'd to finde, that they had left no Room
For his Encouragement; they all assume
So eagerly their Task. Whom when he spy'd
So well resolv'd, and Fortune made a Guide
To all; up to the Gate he, Furious, came,
And sought with Danger to encrease his Fame.

361

Three Brothers (Twins) who each a chosen Band
Had of an Hundred men, at their Command,
Guarded that Pass, and there their Station held:
Of these in Beauty Numitor excell'd,
Laurens in Running, and Laburnus Tall
Above the other: but their Weapons all
Were diff'rent; One Renowned for his Bow;
For's Spear the other, wont in Fight to throw
His poison'd Lance, and not to trust his Sword:
But Lamps, with Flames, and Sulphur mix'd, the Third
Compos'd. So (famous in a former Age)
That horrid Monster of a Triple Rage,
Gerîon, fought on the Atlantick Shore,
Whose three Right-Hands three sev'ral Weapons bore;
One cruel Flames; Behinde him t'other drew
His Bow; the third his trusty Jav'lin threw:
And dealt three sev'ral Waies, at once, a Wound.
When these, thus varying Fight, the Consul found
With diff'rent Arms, the Slaughter, that appear'd
At th'Entrance of the Gate, and Posts besmear'd
With Blood of such, as thither did advance,
With an inraged Force his twisted Lance
He throws. Importing Death, th'Italian Yew
Cuts through the Air, and, where (as then he drew
His Bow, and from above his Arrows ply'd)
Stout Numitor was Naked, pierc'd his Side.

But, not Content to fight, besieged there,
In War Unskilfull, though still apt to dare,
With headlong Heat, rash Virius open threw
The Gate, and broke into the Field, and to
The Conqu'rours Rage his miserable Men
Expos'd: these Scipio fiercely charg'd. But then,
As he the offer'd Troop, insatiate, kills,
Calenus, born upon Tifata's Hills,

362

Bred up to bold Attempts, His Courage great,
As was His Body, often wont to beat
Lyons, to fight bare-Headed, to Contend
With Steers, and down the winding Horns to bend
Of fiercest Bulls, by Force, unto the Ground,
And for his vigorous Fate before Renown'd:
He, while bold Virius from the Town expell'd
Some rash Assailants, whether, that He held
His Breast-Plate useless, or to shun Delay,
Into the Field had, Naked, made His Way,
And, nimbler now, the panting Fugitives
O'retakes, and sev'ral Ways, Victorious, drives:
And now, already, Veliternus through
The Belly he had thrust; and Marius, who
With equal-Sport was wont to exercise
Equestral Fights with Scipio, by him dyes,
Struck backward to the Ground by an huge Stone,
Torn from the Earth. Expiring, with a Groan
H'implores his Friend; and, Gaping, underneath
The Rock was crush'd. But, Sorrow for his Death
Doubling his Strength, while all his Face o'reflows
With Tears, his singing Cornel Scipio throws,
Hasting to his Expiring Friend, to show
The wish'd-for Comfort of a dying Fo.
The Shaft, as if a Bird the liquid Air
Divided had, past through his Brest, and there
Dissolv'd his mighty Frame: swift, as its Way
A nimble Galley makes upon the Sea,
Which flies more nimbly, then the Winds, as oft
As, to their Breasts reduc'd, the Oars aloft
The curling Surges strike, and with the Strength
Of one joynt Strook runs farther, then her Length.

But Volesus Ascanius (who had cast,
His Arms away, that he might lighter haste

363

Unto the Walls, as through the Plain he fled)
Pursues. Strait sever'd by his Sword, his Head
Drops at the Owner's Feet: but, by the Force
Of running forward, in its speedy Course,
The following Trunk, at length, beyond it falls.

No longer, now, to keep their open Walls,
Did the Besieged hope. When strait about
They Face, and shut their own Companions out,
That beg to be receiv'd. Their Hinges then
They turn, and strive, too late, their Bars agen,
And Bolts to fix. At this th'Italians prest
More fiercely on, and the Besieg'd infest.
And, had not Earth been taken from their Sight,
Wrap'd in the Stygian Bosom of the Night,
The Souldiers their Assault so furious made,
The broken Gates had then been open laid.

But yet the Darkness brought not equal Rest
To all. These Fearless Slumbers (such, as blest
With Victory, Men know) enjoy; but there
With dolefull Cries of Women, ev'ry where,
With dire Complaints, and trembling Parents Groans,
Capua affrighted, her sad Fate bemoans,
And prays a Period of her Woes to see.
The Head, and Authour of her Treachery
(The Senate) murmurs. Virius, all Cares
Of Life, now, lai'd aside, aloud declares
No Hopes of Aid from Hannibal. Said He;
I hop'd to rule o're Rome, and did agree,
If Gods the Libyan Arms, and better Fate
Assisted had, to Capua to translate
Trojan Quirinus Empire. It was I,
That sent that Force to shake their Walls, and high
Tarpeian Tow'rs. I had the Courage there
To ask an equal Consul, that might bear

364

The Fasces, in Our Name. It hitherto
Suffideth, We have liv'd; and, while We now
Have Night enough, whoever in his Minde
Affecteth it, at Acheron may finde
Eternal Liberty: let Him repair
Unto my Table, and My Cates, and there
Drenching himself in Bacchus Fruits (his Minde
Subdu'd) he soon a Remedy may finde
For all his Woes; the Sting of Death may charm,
And, with that pleasant Poison, Fate disarm.

This said; a Multitude attend him Home.
Amidst his Palace, in a spacious Room,
A mighty Pyle of Wood did still remain,
The common Receptacle of the Slain.
But, yet the People Grief, and Fear, distract;
While now, too late, on Decius they reflect
Their Thoughts, and his brave Valour, punish'd by
A cruel Banishment. Then from the Sky
Divinest Faith looks down, and vexeth their
Fallacious Hearts, and strait through ev'ry Ear
A secret Voice is spred: Break no Accord,
Or Oath (Ye Mortals!) with the cruel Sword;
But keep Your Faith Inviolate: for This
Then Thrones, that shine with Purple, better is.
For who with Fallacies delights to break
A League, or shall the slender Hopes forsake
Of his afflicted Friend; his House, his Wife,
Perpetual Trouble shall attend: his Life
Shall ne're want Tears; but both by Night, and Day,
Despis'd, and violated Faith, by Sea,
And Land pursuing, shall him still torment.

Then, in a Cloud disguis'd, Erinnys went
To all Assemblies, touch'd their Tables, and
Sits down, and feeds, and then, with her own Hand,

365

Bowls, froathing up with Stygian Gore, prefers,
And largely Plagues, and Death, administers.
But Virius (while yet Ruin She pretends,
Diving into his Soul) the Pyle ascends,
And sticks in her Embrace, commanding strait
To Kindle it, and so to joyn their Fate.

The Night her Limits touch'd, and now, amain,
The furious Conquerour came on again.
When the Campanian Youth upon the Walls
Milo, who thither his Companions calls,
Beheld: Affrighted, strait, they open threw
The Gates, and such, as wanted Courage, to
Avoid their Punishment by Death, with low
And trembling Knees, now entertain the Fo.
The Town her Houses, by the Tyrian Guest
Polluted, op'ning, her blinde Rage confest.
Women, and Children, in Confusion, run,
With the sad Senate (that their Woes begun)
And vulgar Crew by none lamented; whiles
The Army all stood leaning on their Piles,
To view those Men, who nor Prosperity,
Nor Misery could bear: sometimes to see
Them sweep the Ground with Beards, which Trimm'd they wear
Down to their Breasts; with Dust their Whiter Hair
To stain, and, poorly Weeping, to entreat
Most shamefully, and yielding Air to beat
With their effeminate Howlings. But, while these
Unmanly Acts the wondring Souldier sees,
And, still Incens'd, expects the Signal to
O'rethrow the Walls, behold! Religion through
Each Breast, with silent Sense of Pity, goes,
And their fierce Mindes doth by her Pow'r compose.
A gentler God doth sensibly inspire
Their Hearts, to lay aside all Thoughts of Fire,

366

And their destructive Torches: not to burn,
And into Dust, at once, the Temples turn.
He likewise then suggests (to all unseen)
That that proud Town's Foundation had been
By Capys lai'd of old: He tells them there
Fair Houses, fit for Habitation, were
Extended far into delicious Fields.
Thus, by Degrees, their former Fury yields
To milder Thoughts, and, quickly mollifi'd
In ev'ry furious Breast, all Anger dy'd,
The Trojan Houses willing safe to keep,
Jove, likewise, thither sent the God of Sheep,
Pan, who still seems as he were Hanging, and
Scarce on the Earth imprints, wheree're he stand,
One horned Foot; his Right-Hand wanton plays
With a Tegæan Hide, and in cross Ways,
Wagging his Tail, desired Stroaks bestows.
A Pine surrounds his Hair, and Shady Brows:
On his red Front arise two little Horns;
His Ears upright; a squallid Beard adorns
His Chin; a Past'ral Staff he alwaies bears,
And a slick Do-Skin on his Left Side wears:
No ragged Rock so Steep, and High doth rise,
On which, his Body poiz'd, like one that flies,
He will not dare, through pathless Waies, to tread:
Sometimes, he laughing, backward turns his Head,
To see the Sportings of his bushy Tail
Upon his Back; then lifts his Hand to vail
His Forehead from the Sun's too fervent Rays,
And Pastures with his shadow'd Sight survaies.

He, when he had the God's Commands fulfill'd,
Their raging Hearts appeas'd, and Fury still'd,
To the Arcadian Groves away He speeds,
And his lov'd Mænalus, where on shrill Reeds

367

He sweetly plays, and with his Rural Song
Leads, from the Sacred Hill, his Flocks along.

But, Fulvius commanding that the Fire
Should from the Gates be kept, and leave entire
The Walls, th'Ausonian Legions, to shew
The noble Temper of their Minds, withdrew
Their Flames, and Swords; but from the Temples, and
The Houses, that enrich'd with Gold did stand,
A wealthy Prey they took, with that, which fed
Their Riot, and by which they perished,
Effeminate Garments, that their Men array'd,
And Tables rich, from forein Lands convey'd;
With Goblets, that provok'd to Luxury,
Set with Eöan Gems: nor could they see
An end of Silver, and the carved Weight
(Expressly made for Feasts) of golden Plate.
Then came the Captives, in a num'rous Train,
With all their Coin, sufficient to maintain
Along-protracted War: with Servants, that,
In Multitudes, did at their Banquets Wait.

But, when from Plunder of the Town, agen,
The Gen'ral, by the Trumpet's sound, His Men
Had call'd (a Noble Cherisher of Great
Attempts) to Milo, from his lofty Seat,
He thus began: Lanuvian Youth, whom We
From Juno Sospita receive, from Me
This Martial Honour, for thy Victory,
Accept, and 'bout thy Tower'd Temples try
This Mural Crown. This done, he streightway sent
For all the Nobles, that first Punishment
Had merited, and, for their treach'rous Deeds,
Beneath his juster Ax each Guilty bleeds.
But, that fierce Valour, Taurea (for to hide,
Ev'n in a Fo, that Honour had been try'd,

368

Were base) with a loud Voice exclaims; Shalt Thou,
Thus Unreveng'd by Me, deprive Me now,
(A Soul more Great, then Thine) of this My Sword?
Or by the Lictour (when thou giv'st the Word)
Shall this most Valiant Head dissever'd fall
At such base Feet? On Us this never shall:
Be by the Gods allow'd. Then with a Look
Threatning, and full of Rage, he sudden strook
His Warlike Sword quite through his Breast, and dy'd.
To whom the Romane General reply'd;
Go, and the Ruin of thy Countrey thus
Accompany in Death. What Minds in Us
Remain, what is Our Valour, what We are
(Each Man of Us) shall be discern'd in War.
If thou dost think it Shamefull to abide
Just Punishment, thou mightst have fighting dy'd;
Thy Countrey suff'ring, at the very time,
With Streams of Blood for her unhappy Crime.

But, mixing Joys with Sorrows, the dire Hand
Of Fortune, then in the Iberian Land
Two Noble Scipioes had destroy'd, that there
Great Griefs, and Honours to their Countrey were.
By Chance a Youth, of that Illustrious Name,
Into the Dicarchæan City came,
After Extremities of War: and there
Resided. Fame, reporting to his Ear
His Friend's sad Destiny, and Tears, (though He
Ne're us'd to stoop under Adversity)
Beating his Breast, he tears his Garments: nor
Could Sense of Honour, or a Souldier,
Nor the Perswasions of his Friends prevail;
But still his angry Piety doth rail
On the unequal Gods; hates all Relief,
And usual Comforts of encreasing Grief.

369

And now some days were spent in sad Complaint,
And still his Father's Ghost seems conversant
Before his Eyes, and therefore he intends
To raise the Souls, and Manes of his Friends,
And by Discourse with them, at length, the Rage,
And Smart of his great Sorrows to asswage.
So, by a Neighb'ring Lake invited, where
The Acherusian Liquour doth Declare
The horrid Entrance to Avernus, strait
His Thoughts are fir'd to know ensuing Fate.
And therefore to Autonöe (who then,
Under Apollo's Name, the sacred Den,
And Tripods kept) He goes, and open lays
The Counsels of his troubled Breast, and prays
To see his Father's Face. Without delay,
The Prophetess commands him strait to slay,
To th'Shades below, the usual Sacrifice,
Two Coal-black Lambs, as Day began to rise;
And, while they yet were Breathing, as they dy'd,
The flowing Blood within the Earth to Hide,
Then shall the Stygian Empire send to Thee
Her People. What thou more desir'st (quoth She)
To know, a greater Prophetess shall Sing.
For I to Thee true Oracles will bring
From the Elysian Fields, and Thou shalt see,
Amidst old Sibyl's Rites performed by Me,
That fam'd Phœbean Breast's Prophetick Shade.
Go then, and, when the dewy Night hath made
Her course beyond her middle Line, then bring
Th'aforesaid Victims to the Stygian King,
Chast, to Avernus Entrance. Likewise joyn
To them choice Honey, and the purest Wine.
He, quickned by Her Counsel, and no less
With the great Name o'th' promis'd Prophetess,

370

The Sacrifices for his dark Design
Prepares, and, when to the appointed Line
The Night arriv'd, and what was finished
Equal'd the following Darkness, from his Bed
He rose, and to the troubled Entrance went
Of the Tartarean Port; where, Diligent
To keep her Word, the Prophetess had then
All things fulfill'd, and sate i'th' Stygian Den.
Then that Way, where at first the broken Ground,
A Cave, that ne're by Sun was seen, is found,
And sadly groaning, from its hollow Mouth,
Belcheth Cocytus bitter Streams, the Youth
Into't She leads; commands him, in the Ground
With's Sword to dig an Hole; and, Trotting round,
Mutt'ring a secret Charm, She bids, that all
The Beasts for Sacrifice, in order, fall.
To Pluto first a Bull; to Hecate,
With a chast Neck, and Heifer; then to Thee,
Alecto, and Megæra (ever sad)
The chosen Bodies of two Sheep, that had
But two years liv'd: on these they Milk infus'd,
Honey, and Wine. The Youth stood still amus'd,
While the old Prophetess exclaim'd, She well
Perceiv'd each Face, that did with Pluto dwell.
I see, said She, all Hell approaching, and
Now the third Empire in my View doth stand.
Behold what various Shapes, and whatsoe're
Was born of Man, and dy'd together, there
From deepest Chaos come. The Cyclops see!
Scylla, and those, that with such Cruelty
Their Thracian Horses fed with Flesh of Men!
Attend, and mark; and, without Fear, agen
Put up thy Sword. Those Souls, that in such Haste
March on before, the Off'red Blood to Tast,

371

Let pass, till the chast Sibyl's Shade appear.
In the mean time, Behold! how Speedy there
Comes that Unburied Ghost to speak to Thee,
And hath (as when Alive) the Liberty
To use its Voice, till on the Fun'ral Wood
Its Body burn, if it hath touch'd no Blood.
This noble Scipio saw, and, troubled at
The sudden Apparition, said; O what
Sad Chance Thee from thy sinking Country, when
Our horrid Wars require such Gallant Men,
Renowned Captain, snatch'd? for none could Thee
(Appius) in Valour, or in Policy
Excel. Ten times the glorious Lamp of Day
Hath rose, since I return'd from Capua,
And saw Thee, then, Bathing thy Wounds, and sad
Onely, that they continued still so Bad,
Thou could'st not go unto the Walls, and quite
Depriv'd Thee of the Honour of that Fight.
To which the Ghost reply'd: Th'ensuing Day
The pleasant Horses of the Sun away
From Me (then fainting) turn'd, and banish'd Me
To the dark Waters for Eternity.
But while vain Vulgar Rites the tedious Care
Of Friends pursues, my Body they forbare
To burn; that far about, at length, they may
It to my Father's Sepulcher convey.
But by thy glorious Deeds (which emulate
Those of our Father Mars) I Thee entreat,
Let Drugs, that keep the Bodies of the Dead
Entire in other Lands, be Banished
From Me, that so my Wandring Shade may soon
Go freely to the Gates of Acheron.

Most noble Branch of antient Claudus Line,
None of my Cares shall be preferr'd to Thine,

372

The Youth replies, although they are not small,
That now Afflict Me: for I know, through all
The Nations of the World, a various Sense
Of Tombs, and Ashes, keeps a difference,
And varies much the Fun'rals of the Dead.
In the Iberian Country (as 'tis said)
An antient Custom 'tis, that Vulturs tire
On their Dead Bodies. When their Kings Expire,
Th'Hyrcanian People think it best t'expose
To Dogs their Members. The Egyptians close
In Stone perfum'd their Bodies, after Fate,
And hardly from their Tables separate
The Bloodless Ghosts. In Pontus they Ordain,
The Heads of Men to empty of the Brain,
And so Embalm'd, for many Ages, keep.
What should We say of those, that Buried deep
Dig naked Garamantians up in Sand?
Or of the Nasamonians, that command,
Their Dead to bury in the cruel Seas
Upon the Libyan Coast? The Celtæ please
Their empty Skuls with Gold about to ring,
And such for Cups unto their Tables bring.
But the Cecropians did by chance Ordain,
That such, as in their Country's Wars were Slain,
Should be together Burn'd. Oppos'd to these,
Time onely doth interr the Carcases
Of Scythian People; who, on Stakes of Wood
Impal'd, hang melting with corrupted Blood.

As thus he talk'd, Autonöe (the Shade
O'th' Sibyl rising) Set a Period, said,
To your Discourse. Behold that Priestess; who
So much of Future things, when living, knew,
That ev'n the Gods, that they knew more, deny'd.
And now 'tis time your Men should go aside,

373

That You, and I, the Beasts may burn. This said;
With Myst'ries fill'd, the old Cymæan Maid,
After the Sacrificed Blood her Mouth
Had touch'd, and tasted, viewing well the Youth
(Whose Face was Beautiful) began: When I
Etherial Light, not idly, did enjoy,
My voice was heard in the Cymæan Den
To answer People; and Thee (Scipio) then,
In future Ages, and in Rome's Affairs
Concern'd, I sung. But yet thy Father's Cares
Scarce merited my Words: for they nor made
A due Enquiry after what I said,
Nor yet observ'd it. But now mark; since Thou
Desir'st to know the Fates of Rome, which now
On Thine depend (for I thy Diligence
To take the Oracles of Life from hence
Perceive) and here thy Father's Manes see:
On th'arm'd Iberian Thou, with Victory,
Thy Father shalt Revenge: to Mars before
Due years entrusted; and thy Sword the Moor
Shall of his Joys deprive. Thou shalt rejoyce,
When Thee, as Omen to the War, the Voice
Of Rome shall choose: when, in th'Iberian Land,
Carthage Thou shalt subdue. Then to command
More eminent Thou shalt be rais'd, nor Jove
From Thee his Care, and Kindness shall remove,
Till the whole War He into Libya drive.
And there to Thee ev'n Hannibal shall give
To be Subdu'd. But, oh Ingrateful Rome!
Which after all these Honours Thee of Home,
And Country shall deprive. As this She spake,
She turn'd her Steps towards the Stygian Lake.

Whate're ill Chance of Life attends Me, I
(The Youth replies) will my Endeavours try:

374

Yet may my Breast be free from Guilt! but now
I pray thee (since the onely Cause, that Thou
Didst live, was Humane Labours here to Aid)
Awhile thy Steps restrain (renowned Maid)
And unto Me the silent Shades report,
With all the Terrours of the Stygian Court.
She soon assents to that, which he requir'd,
But Thou a Kingdom, not to be desir'd,
(Said She) dost open: for the Darkness there
People, that once Innumerable were,
Inhabite, and through endless Shadows fly,
And yet make up but One great Family.
I'th'midst a dark, and airy Space, of large
Extent, there is, which common Death doth charge
With all, that from the Teeming World's first Birth
The fiery Air produc'd, the Seas, or Earth.
Thither all things descend, what hath, or shall
Perish, that gloomy Field devoureth all.
Ten Gates this Kingdom compass, whereof One
Receives the Warlike Sons of Mars alone:
Another those, that Famous Laws have made,
And the Foundations, first, of Cities lay'd.
The Third's for Ceres harmless Tribe, that go,
By Fraud unpoison'd, to the Shades below.
Next Those, that pleasant Arts did first invent,
And Way of Living, full of all Content,
And (which not Father Phœbus would Disdain)
Verses compos'd, their proper Gate maintain.
The next the Shipwrack Port, (for so that Gate
Is Nam'd) is kept for such, as meet their Fate
In Winds, and cruel Storms. Another wide,
And near this stands, for such as Guilty dy'd,
And there confess their Sins: Their sev'ral Pains
Ev'n at the Entrance Rhadamanth Ordains,

375

And empty Death inflicts. The Seventh to Bands
Of Women, that flock thither, open stands:
Where her pale Groves the Chast Proserpina
Maintains. And, near to this, another Way,
And Gate there is, well-known by Infants Cries,
To them assign'd, and all those Companies,
That in the Port of Life extinguish'd are:
And Virgin Troops, whose Nuptial Tapers were
Turn'd into Fun'ral Flames. But then, remote
From this, there is another Gate, of Note,
Which, Night dissolving, shines like rising Day,
And, through the Shadow of a secret Way,
Leads to th'Elysian Fields: Here, nor to Hell
Subjected, nor in Heav'n the Pious dwell.
But quite beyond all Seas, upon the Brink
O'th'Sacred Fountain, thither throng to Drink
Forgetfulness of Minde, in Lethe's Streams.
The Last, with Gold refulgent, feels the Beams
Of Light, and Shines, as if the Moon were there.
This way the Blessed Souls to Heav'n repair,
And, when a thousand Lustra Time hath past,
Forgetting Dis, into their Bodies haste:
Death, his black Jaws wide op'ning, to and fro,
Through all these Ways, and Ports, doth wandring go.
Then a slow Gulph, without a Body, far
Extended, and dark muddy Lakes there are,
Where Phlegethon with swelling Waters burns
The Banks, on ev'ry side, and, Roaring, turns
The flaming Quarries up, with Storms of Fire.
Then, in another Quarter, with as Dire
A Rage, Cocytus rolls black Waves of Blood,
And runs, a Torrent, with a foaming Flood.
But Styx, which Jove himself, and all the rest
Of the Immortal Gods, do still Attest,

376

Dreadful with Pitch, and Sulphur, smoaking Mud
Drives through his Chanel. But (then These a Flood
More dismal, froathing with Corruption, and
Thick Poison, Belching up the gelid Sand,
With horrid Murmurs) Acheron, through all
The Pools, with a black Stream, doth slowly fall.
This Venom'd Three-mouth Cerberus desires,
This for her Drink Tisiphone requires:
This dire Megæra craves; nor yet can they,
With all their Drink, their raging Thirst allay.
But the last River breaketh out before
The Entrance, and inexorable Door
Of Pluto's Palace, from a Fount of Tears.
There a fourth Tribe, in sev'ral Paths, appears
Of Monsters, still to Watch, and Terrifie
The trembling Ghosts with their confused Cry.
Devouring Grief; and Leanness, that on ill
Diseases waits; with Sadness, feeding still
On Tears; and Paleness without Blood; with Cares,
Base Treachery, old Age, that nothing bares
Without Complaint; Envy, with both her Hands
Crushing her Throat; and Poverty, that stands
Deform'd, and Prone to any thing that's Bad;
With wandring Errour, and Dissension, glad
To mingle Seas with Heav'n; Then Briareus,
That with his hundred Hands the Gates doth use
Of Hell to open; Cruel Sphynx, with Blood
Her Virgin-mouth Besmear'd; the furious Brood
Of two-formed Centaurs; with fierce Scylla there,
And the Rebellious Giants Ghosts, appear:
Here the three-headed Dog, when he hath broke
His Chains, and off a thousand Fetters shook,
And up and down, through Hell, doth Wandring go,
Neither Alecto, nor Megæra, though

377

With Fury swell'd, come near; while 'bout his Loins
His Vip'rous Tail, he fiercely Barking, twines.
On the Right Hand, a Yew, that like a Wood
Its Branches spreads, and, by Cocytus Flood
Water'd, more Leavy grown, there stands: here dire,
And fatal Birds, Vultures, that rav'ning tire
On Carcases; and num'rous Owls reside:
Schreech-Owls, with Specks of Blood their Pinions dy'd,
And greedy Harpyes build their Nests, and thick
Among the Leaves on all the Branches stick,
And make the Tree with dolefull Cries to nod.
Among these dreadfull Shapes, th'Infernal God
Sits on a Throne, examining the Crimes
Of Kings, and what they did in former Times.
Enchain'd they stand, and 'fore the Judge repent
Too late, while all the Forms of Punishment,
And Furies, round about them fly: and now
How glad would they their Scepters disavow!
Those Souls, which, when on Earth, unworthy, and
Unequal things endur'd, with harsh Command
Insult, and what they living, did not dare
To utter, now Complain of, freely, there.
Then One in cruel Chains is bound upon
A Rock, another rowls a restless Stone;
While, with her Snaky Whip, Megæra still
Pursues him, lab'ring up the lofty Hill.
Such bloody Tyrant's Punishments shall be:
But now the Time's arriv'd, that We to Thee
Must shew thy Mother's Face, whose Shade in Place
The first appears, and hither comes apace.
Pomponia, pregnant by Jove's Stealth, drew nigh.
For, when the Libyan War, in Italy,
Fair Venus knew, endeav'ring to prevent
All Juno's Plots, a silent Flame She sent

378

Into her Father's Breast: which had not She
Foreknown, the conquer'd Romane Altars We
By Tyrian Virgins kindled now had seen.
But, when the off'red Blood had tasted been,
(As the old Prophetess advis'd) and both
Each other's Faces knew, thus first the Youth
Began: My dearest Mother, who to Me,
Like some great Deity, appear'st; that Thee
I might have seen, how willingly would I
Have dy'd! Oh! what was our sad Destiny,
When that first Day, that gave Me vital Breath,
Thee, without Honour, snatch'd away in Death.
As thus He spoke, his Mother thus again
Replies: O Son, my Death was free from Pain:
For when the Burthen of my Womb was lay'd,
By Jove's Command, Me Mercury convei'd
To the Elysian Fields, and gave Me there
An equal Place, where Læda now, and where
Alcmena by his Sacred Bounty dwell.
But, since We now have time (my Son) to tell
Whence thou didst spring (that thou no Wars maist fear,
Nor doubt to Heav'n by Deeds thy self to rear:
Know this; when I, by Chance, in mid'st of Day,
Retired to repose, and Sleeping lay,
A sudden close Embrace my Members bound,
Not such, as I before my Husband's found,
Nor easy unto Me, and then I clear
(Although my heavy Eys in Slumber were
Involv'd) great Jove beheld (You may believe
This Truth) nor could his borrow'd Shape deceive
Me then, though, turn'd into a scaly Snake,
He, coyling, did a thousand Circles make.
But, soon as Thou wert born, that I should dy
It was Decreed, and then how much did I

379

Lament, that I to Thee could not declare
These things, before my Soul resolv'd to Air.
At this, t'embrace her Neck he thrice Essai'd
In vain, and lost as oft the fleeting Shade.
This done, two Ghosts of Men, that well agreed,
His Father's, and his Uncle's, strait succeed.
While, through the Shadows pressing on, he there
Vain Kisses sought, and strove those Ghosts, that were
Like flying Smoak, and Clouds, to apprehend:
Oh Thou! on whom our Empire did depend
(My dearest Sire) what God, an Enemy
To the Ausonian Land, did us of Thee
Deprive (said he) Oh Wo to Me! for why,
Was there the least of Time, that, Cruel, I
Should absent be from Thee? thy Death I might
Have chang'd, by this my Brest, oppos'd in Fight.
What Groans th'Italian People, ev'ry where,
Give at your Funerals! The Senate rear,
In Mars's Field, to each of you a Tomb.
Amidst his Speech, the hasty Ghosts assume
The Word: and first his Father's Manes barr'd
His farther Language thus; A fair Reward
Is Virtue to her self; yet it descends
Sweet to the Shades below, when 'mong our Friends
The Glory of our Lives survives: nor our
Due Praises dark Oblivion can devour.
But say, how great a War doth Thee molest?
(Our dear Renown!) how oft doth Fear my Brest
Invade, when I but think how fiercely Thou
Go'st on, when Dangers meet thee! but I now
Conjure thee, by the Cause of our sad Fate,
(Most valiant Youth) thy Rage to moderate,
And thy Desire to Fight; sufficient be
Th'Examples of our Family for Thee.

380

For the eighth Summer then had reap'd the dry,
And rusling Sheavs of Corn, when conqu'ring I
Had all suppress'd, and the Tartessiack Land
The Yoak accepted from my Brother's Hand.
Her then reviving Walls, and Houses, we
To poor Sagunthus gave. They Bætis, free
From Foes, then Drunk: oft Hasdrubal to Us
His Back had turn'd. But, oh their barbarous,
And still corrupted Faith! When Victour I
Advanc'd 'gainst Hasdrubal, with Misery
Almost Destroy'd (a sudden Change) Behold!
The Spanish Troops, which with his Libyan Gold
(A Mercenary People) Hasdrubal
Had made, breaking their Ranks, their Ensigns all
Forsook: then straitway Us, deserted by
Our Auxiliary Bands, the Enemy
With a thick Ring (more numerous in Men)
Encompass'd round; nor did we Poorly then,
Or Un-reveng'd, the last of all our Days
On Earth conclude, but ended it with Praise.

To this his Brother thus began to joyn
His own Mishaps, and said; In the Decline
Of our Affairs, a lofty Castle I
For a Retreat desir'd, and thereto try
Our last Attempt: a thousand Torches they
With Lamps, and smoaking Fire-brands, ev'ry way
Into it threw. For what concerns my Fall,
I of the Gods make no Complaint at all:
For they my Body burn'd, and to a Grave
Of large Extent, my Arms fix'd on it, gave.
But I am griev'd, lest, since We both are slain,
The Libyans should o'rerun oppressed Spain.
To which the Youth, his Face with Tears o'respread,
Replies. Ye Gods! as She hath merited,

381

May Carthage all just Punishment endure
For these foul Deeds! But He, who under your
Command was try'd, brave Martius, hath restrain'd
The fierce Pyrenean Troops, and entertain'd
Our weary Friends, and with known Arms the War
Maintains: and, it is fam'd, the Conquerour
In Battel lately was o'rethrown, and all
Due Piacles exacted for your Fall.
Much joy'd at this, the Gen'rals went again
To those sweet Places, where the Bless'd remain.
The Youth, adoring them, with eager Eys
Pursues them: and now Paulus Ghost supplies
Their Room, scarce to be known, as then he stood,
'Mong many Ghosts. But, having drunk the Blood,
He thus began: Thou Light of Italy,
Whose Martial Deeds, then one Man's greater, I
Have seen. Who now hath instigated Thee
These Kingdoms, where once All must dwell, to see?
To whom again sad Scipio thus replies;
Great General, how long, with weeping Eys,
Did Rome thy Fate lament? how near with Thee,
Falling to Stygian Darkness, did we see
Oenotrian Palaces! The Tyrian Fo
Did on Thee Dea da Sepulcher bestow,
And in thy Honour sought for Praise. With Tears
While Paulus thus his Hostile Burial hears,
Before their Eys Flaminius, Gracchus, and,
With a sad Countenance, Servilius stand,
At Cannæ slain. A great Desire he had
To speak to them, and farther Language add:
But stronger Inclinations to know
More antient Ghosts made him desist, and now
Brutus, that merited immortal Fame
By's cruel Ax; Camillus then, that came

382

Near to the Gods in Praise, and, hating Gold,
Curius he sees, (their Names the Sibyl told,
And shew'd their Faces, as they came) That's He,
That, though of Sight depriv'd, the Treacherie
Of Peace, and Pyrrhus from the Gates repell'd:
And that, the Bridg behinde him broken, held
His Station valiantly, and did exclude
Returning Scepters, when the King pursu'd
To Tyber's Banks. If you desire to see
The Man, that in the former War (said She)
The League with Libya made, Lutatius there
Behold, with Naval Arms, a Conquerer.
But, if Amilcar's cruel Shade you'd know,
See! That is it, that stands far off; his Brow
(Not smooth'd by Death) as yet his rabid Ire
Retains: to talk with him if you desire,
Tasting the Blood, with your permission, He
May speak; which granted, and when Greedily
The thirsty Shade had drunk; first Scipio thus
With angry Looks upbraids him: Such with Us
(Thou Sire of Fraud) are then thy Leagues? with Thee,
Captiv'd, on the Sicanian Coast, did We
This Contract make? Against all Leagues, thy Son
Ausonia, with War, doth over-run,
And comes upon Us, breaking through the Bars
O'th' Alpes. All Italy with barb'rous Wars
Is now inflam'd, and back, obstructed by
Sad Slaughters, to their Springs our Rivers fly.
To this the Shade reply'd: So soon, as He
Was ten Years old, the Latine War, by Me
Commanded, He espous'd. Nor must He now
Deceive those Gods, attested to the Vow
Made to his Father. But, if now with Fire
He Italy destroy, and still aspire

383

To overthrow that State, deriv'd from Troy.
O Piety! O holy Faith! O Boy,
Indeed mine Own! and would to Heav'n He might
Repair that Honour, We have lost in Fight!
Seeming to swell, with Speed (as this he said)
He vanish'd, and retir'd a greater Shade.

Next these, the Prophetess those Ghosts disclos'd,
That, Arm'd, to conquer'd Nations dispos'd
Their Laws: with those, that first the Romanes taught
Those Sacred Laws, from Pallas City brought.
Scipio, well-pleas'd, with an infatiate Ey
Views all their Faces, and would willingly
Have talk'd with all, had not the Prophetess
Inform'd him, that their Troops were numberless.
What Myriads in all the World dost Thou
Believe descend to Hell, since here you now
All these behold? A boundless Torrent there
Of Shades continually run down, and are
In Charon's spatious Vessel wasted ore;
And that base Boat's sufficient, were they more.
Many past by, the Virgin to his View
Presents a Youth. This is that Wand'rer, who
His Ensigns, where He march'd, did Conqu'ring bare;
By whom the Bactrii, and the Dacæ were
Subdu'd; who Ganges drunk on conquer'd Ground;
With a Pellæan Bridg Niphate bound,
Whose Walls now stand where sacred Nile doth run.
To him Ænëades: Thou certain Son
Of Libya's horned Hammon! Oh, how far
Doth thy indubitable Fame, in War,
All Generals excel! The like Desire
(Renowned Shade) hath set my Brest on Fire,
To know which Way thou took'st thy self to raise
To that proud Honour, and great Height of Praise.

384

To whom the Ghost: A dull Sedulity,
In War, is base. Thou by Activity,
And Daring, may'st accomplish greatest Wars.
Slow Valour never yet unto the Stars
Her self hath rais'd. Do Thou precipitate
The time of thy great Deeds. Black Death doth wait
Upon the Active Man. Thus having said,
He vanish'd. Strait succeeded Crœsus Shade,
Rich, when alive; now, levell'd with the Poor.
But when, arising from th'Elysian Shore,
The Manes of a Beautious Youth he spy'd,
Whose Tresses, with a Purple Fillet ty'd,
Flow'd on his radiant Neck: Divinest Maid,
Tell me (said He) who is that glorious Shade,
Whose sacred Fore-head with a Light's indu'd,
To him peculiar, and a Multitude
Of Souls, admiring, follow, and, about
Him thronging, seem to give a joyful Shout?
Oh, what a Face! did I not see him here
I'th' Stygian Shade, I easily should swear
He were a God. Nor art deceiv'd (quoth She)
He hath deserv'd to seem a Deity:
Nor in so great a Breast was there a small
Divinity. For He in Verses all
The Seas, and Earth, with Heav'n, and Hell compris'd,
And in his Song the Muses equaliz'd,
In Honour Phœbus: when he could notsee,
All this unto the World, in order, he
Divulg'd, and rais'd your Troy unto the Skies.
Scipio, the sacred Shade with joyful Eys
Beholding, said; Would but the Fates allow,
That through the Universe this Prophet now
Might sing the Romane Deeds; how much more great
Would the same Things, with his Certificate,

385

Pass to succeeding Times? Thrice happy You,
Æäcides, to whom it happ'ned, to
The World by such a Tongue to be express'd:
For by his Verse thy Valour still encreas'd.
But what's that Troop, that such Applauses give,
Seeking the Ghosts of Heroes, and receive
The Greater Shades? With that Achilles He,
And mighty Hector, is amaz'd to see.
And then the Valiant Ajax stately Pace
Admires, and Nestor's venerable Face.
But he was pleas'd, when he beheld the Two
Renown'd Atrides, and Ulysses, who,
In Prudence, equall'd great Achilles Deeds.
To these Ledæan Castor's Shade succeeds,
About to live; for then Alternate Light
Pollux in Heav'n maintain'd. But, to his Sight
Presented, strait: Lavinia's Shade withdrew
His Face: for then the Maid advis'd him to
Consider Womens Shades, lest rising Day
Should summon Her (protracting Time) away.
This Venus happy Daughter is (said She)
That Trojans long-deriv'd Posterity,
Joyn'd to the Latines. Would you see the Bold
Quirinus Bride? Hersilia there behold,
Once by Her Sheepherd Husband ravish'd, when
Their Neighbours scorn'd such rough, unpleasant Men,
Yet She, well-pleas'd, his homely Cottage saw,
And lay with him on Pallets made of Straw,
And angry Sires, from 'vengeful Arms, withdrew.
But now Carmenta's Godlike Gesture view;
She was Evander's Mother, and Divin'd
Your present Labours. If you have a minde
To see the Face of Tanaquil: that's She,
Whose Chaster minde prevail'd in Augury,

386

And to her Husband did his Throne foreshew,
And in the Bird the Gods propitious knew.
There see, of Romane Chastity the Grace,
Lucretia, glorious in her Death, her Face,
And Eys fix'd on the Ground still bears. Thou (Rome)
Must not, alass! nor doth it Thee become
To wish the long Fruition of so great
A Praise. Near Her, Virginia see; who, yet
The Wound retaining, in her bleeding Breast,
(Sad Monument, that Chastity exprest
Defended by the Sword!) her Father's hand
Applauds, in that dire stroke. Next her doth stand
The famous Clælia, who to fly thy Yoak
(Porsenna) her Weak Sex contemn'd, and broke
The Lidyan War, and Tyber: such, as She
(A Virgin) Rome once Wish'd her Men to be,
This sudden Apparition much Dismai'd
Yong Scipio, who, more enquiring, said;
What may those guilty Manes be, and why
Are they Tormented? She gave this reply.
That Tullia, who with her Chariot tore,
And broke her Father's Members, and stood o're
His trembling Face with her contracted Reins,
That She may ne'er be free from lasting Pains,
Swims in hot Phlegethon, that, rapid, springs
From smoaking Furnaces, and upward flings
Burn'd Rocks, made harder by the River's Heat,
And still with Flaming Flints her Face doth beat.
But She, whose Lungs a Bird's sharp Bill destroys,
(Hark! with his beating Wings how great a Noise,
Returning to his Food, the Bird of Jove
Now makes!) Oh horrid Wickedness! for Love
Of Gold, the Capitol, that Treach'rous Maid
(Tarpeia) to the Sabine Troops betrai'd.

387

Then dost not see (for lighter Crimes our Laws
Scarce touch) dire Orcus still with hungry Jaws
Doth bark? Of old the monstrous Guardian He
Of the Iberian heard, and eagerly
Assaulteth with his Teeth, and fiercely Trails
The Entrails out with his polluted Nails.
Yet is the Punishment inferiour to
The Sin, that Vestal voluntary threw
Her Virgin Zone away, and sacred Rites
Of Vesta stain'd. But now these sev'ral Sights,
Which you have seen, sufficient are, I strait
To Thee (concluding) will enumerate
Some Souls, that now Oblivion drink (they are
But few) and so again to Night repair.
That Marius (for the Time's not long when he
Shall go into Etherial Light) shall be
Your Consul, and shall long Command procure
From humble Birth. Nor shall Sylla endure
Long to drink drowsy Lethe, or Obey.
Fate, which no God can Change, and Life away
Him call. He first shall Seize, as by Assault,
The Empire, but the glory of his Fault
Shall be, that he shall it restore alone,
And in so great a Name there shall be none,
That shall desire to second Sylla. He,
Whose Hair erect on's rugged Front, you see
Is Pompey, a most glorious Head on Earth,
And by the World belov'd. But He, that Birth
O'th'Gods, who lifts his Starry Head so high,
As Cæsar, of Iülus Progeny,
When these break from their dark Abodes, by Sea,
And Land, how great, how mighty things will they
Attempt? Alass, how oft will they Contend
In Fight through all the World? nor in the End,

388

Shalt thou (the Conquerour) less Guilty dy,
Then He, o're whom thou gain'st the Victory.

Then Scipio, Weeping, said: It grieves me much,
That the sad Order of Affairs is such
For Italy. But if, when Life is done,
There be no Pardon, and ev'n Death must run
The hazard of Desert; say, in what part
Of Phlegethon, his Sins still burning smart
Shall Hannibal endure? or, tell me, where
Shall a fit rav'nous Fowl for ever tare
His Limbs, which for her Food shall still encrease?
Oh! fear not that, exclaims the Prophetess,
A Life inviolate he shall not lead,
Nor in his Country shall his Bones, when Dead,
Be lay'd to rest. For when he shall in Fight
Be Vanquished, and all his Forces quite
Dispers'd, he shall endure to be O'rethrown,
And beg inglorious Safety. Macedon,
For War, shall give him Hopes again to rise
In Arms; and then (condemn'd for Treacheries)
His constant Wife, and Son forsaken, He
Shall Carthage quit, and through the Ocean flee
In a small Ship. Cilician Taurus then
Hee'l visit. But (alass!) how foolish Men
Will rather choose hard Servitude to bare,
The Hot, and Cold Excesses of the Air,
With Hunger, Flight, and Seas; then once to Dy.
He, after these great Wars, in Italy,
A Servant to th'Assyrian King shall be,
And thence, depriv'd of his Desire to see
Ausonia embroil'd, with doubtful Sails
Shall put to Sea, until, with lazy Gales,
Brought to the Prusiack Coast, grown weak with Age,
He in another Service shall engage,

389

And, through that Kingdom's Aid, a Shelter finde:
Till, that their Enemy may be resign'd
The Romanes urging, secret Poison there
In Haste he drinks, and from continual Fear
Absolve the doubtful World. Thus having said,
To hollow Shades of Erebus the Maid
Again withdraws; and Scipio strait ascends
Unto the Port, and his rejoycing Friends.

The End of the Thirteenth Book.

391

The Fourteenth Book.

The Argument.

Sicilia describ'd: the wanton King
Is slain. The Libyans, and the Romanes bring,
Into that Land, their Arms. What Victories
Marcellus gaind. Both sides have their supplies
From the divided Land. By Land, and Sea,
To Syracusa's Walls the Romanes lay
Close Siege. What Arts by Archimedes were
Found out, for their repulse. New Aids appear
From Libya by Sea. A Naval Fight,
Wherein some Libyan Ships are put to flight,
Some Captive made, some sunk. Both Armies are
Infected by a Plague: which ceas'd, the War
The Romanes strait renew. To one Assault
Rich Syracusa yields: the Souldier's Fault,
Who Archimedes, as He Figures drew,
Studious, upon the Sand, not knowing, slue,
The General deplores. What praises He
Deserv'd, whose Mercy crown'd his Victory.

Yee Pow'rs of Helicon, now turn your Lays
To Sicily, and the Ortygian Seas:
Sometimes to Daunian Kingdoms your Resorts
To make; sometimes to the Sicanian Ports,

392

Or Macedonian Palaces to see,
And the Achaïck Land, your Task must be:
Or wandring, where Sardôan Floods enfold
Your Steps; or, where in Cottages, of old,
The Tyrians reign'd, to go; and farthest Day
To visit; and where Earth's vast Globe by Sea
Is Limited: all this the Scenes of War,
That, in their sev'ral Quarters, Acted are
By Mars, require. This therefore We must do,
And, where the War, and Trumpets call, pursue.

Of large extent, a Port of Italy,
Trinacria was, till once Assaulted by
Notus, and raging Waves, against it heav'd
By the Cœrulean Trident, it receiv'd
The Ocean in: for, by an hidden way,
The Earth's torn Entrails the impacted Sea
Asunder threw, and, breaking through the Land
With a full Tide, at once the People, and
The Cities, by the Tempest's secret Force
Bore quite away. Since, keeping that Divorce,
By an impetuous Flood, th'unruly Main
Permits not the Disjoyn'd to meet again.

But yet the space, that the two Lands divides,
As Fame reports (so narrow are the Tides,
That run between) Barking of Dogs, and Lays
Of early Birds, to either Side conveys.
So rich the Soil, that it the Garners fills
Of Husband-men: with Olives shades the Hills,
Titles creats to Bacchus, and swift Steeds,
That will endure the sound of Trumpets, breeds.
Cecropian Tapers Hybla, ev'ry where
Renown'd, from her sweet Nectar, kindles: there
Pæonian Streams with secret Sulphur spring;
There, by the Muses grac'd, fam'd Poets Sing

393

Worthy Apollo, who their Lays diffuse
Through Sacred Groves: whose Syracusian Muse
Makes Helicon resound. The People are
In Language prompt; but, when emploi'd in War,
Their Ports are Crown'd with Trophies, from the Seas.
After the Reign of dire Antiphates,
And Cyclops Rule, Sicanian Plows began
First to turn up the untill'd Ground, and then
From high Pyrene thither People came;
Who on the vacant Land impos'd the Name
Of an Iberian River. After these,
There soon arriv'd stout Bands of Ligures,
By Siculus Commanded, who by War
Possess'd the Land, that still his Name doth bare.
Nor was it Loss of Fame, or held a Shame
For Siculus to change Sicania's Name.
Next Neighb'ring Minos, making his Demands
Of Dædalus, his Eteocretian Bands
Led to the hapless War: and, after He
A Judg of Hell, through cruel Treachery,
And Plots of the Cocalides, was made,
Weary of making War, his People lay'd
Their Arms aside, and dwelt in Sicily.
Trojan Acestes, then, his Progeny
Had mix'd with Trojan Helymus, who there
(Some Bands of Youth soon following) first did rear
Those Walls, that since from Them retain the Name.
Neither are Zancle's Walls obscure in Fame,
Which Saturn, laying down his Sickle there,
Renown'd. But in th'Ennæan Land none are
More fam'd, then those were Founded by the Name,
That thither from Sisyphian Istmus came,
And, in the Ephyræan Offspring, all
Doth much Excel. Here doth Alphæus fall

394

Into his Arethusa's fishy Springs,
And of a Sacred Crown the Figure brings.

But in Trinacrian Caves the Lemnian God
Delights, and there hath settled his Abode.
For feeding, under ground, in Forges vast,
Lipare from her hollow Head doth cast
A sulph'rous Smoak. But her continual Fires
Ætna, inflam'd, from trembling Rocks expires;
While, with included Groans, the raging Sea
She imitates, and restless, Night, and Day,
Through secret Ruptures murm'ring Thunders. So
From Phlegethon the flaming Billows flow,
And from the melting Caverns rolls (among
Those pitchy Tempests) half-burnt Rocks along.
But though, within, it boileth with so Dire
A Storm of Flames, and still-encreasing Fire:
Yet White upon the Top, 'tis strange to tell,
How near those very Flames the Snow doth dwell;
How th'burning Rocks are with Eternal Cold
Congeal'd, and horrid; and how they behold
Perpetual Winter on the Mountain's Head,
And Snow with glowing Ashes overspread.
What should I say of the Æölian Land?
That Dwelling of the Winds, and Bars ordain'd
'Gainst Storms? Here, wash'd by the Iönian Main,
Turn'd to that Land where Pelops once did Reign,
Pachynus Cliffs appear: There opposite
To Libya, and the raging Cauri's Spite,
The noble Lilybæum hath in view
The bending Chelæ. A third Frontier to
The Shore extended, and to Italy
Oppos'd, upon the other Side, the high
Pelorus riseth, with an Hill of Sand.

Here long in Peace did Hieron command

395

His People, with a milde, and easy Sway,
And ne're the Hearts of those, that did Obey,
With cruel Fears perplex'd! nor could He be
Induc'd to violate that Faith, which he
Had at the Altars sworn. For many Years
His Social League, with the Ausonian Peers,
Entire he kept. But, when the Fates dissolv'd
His aged Life, the Fatal Crown devolv'd
To's eldest Nephew, and unto that Court
(Of late so Good) unruly Minds resort.
Not sixteen Years of Age the King had known,
When he Eclips'd the Glory of his Throne;
Unable to sustain his Kingdom's Weight,
Too Confident of his too fickle State.
In a short time all Crime's protected by
The Force of Arms; there all Impiety
Familiarly was known: the very Name
Of Justice banish'd, and a modest Shame
Was in the King held Vile. His Mother's high
Descent from Pyrrhus, the great Family
Of antient Æäcus, and Thetis Son,
(In Verse Eternal) spurr'd this Fury on
To that so great a Precipice. And strait
His Breast's invaded by a sudden Heat,
To favour the Designs of Libya,
And, this his Sin admitting no Delay,
He makes new Leagues; by which it was agreed,
That the Sidonian Army should recede
From Sicily, if they the Conquest gain'd.
But yet his Punishment for this remain'd
Still fix'd, and dire Eirnnys him a Tomb
Ev'n in that Land deny'd, where he no room
Would yield to his Ally. For some, whom Ire,
And dayly Fears, invited to Conspire,

396

(Resolv'd his Youth no longer to abide,
Inflam'd with cruel Lusts, and bloody Pride,
And adding to his Tyranny abhorr'd,
And vilest Acts) him slew. And then the Sword
No measure knew. To this the Slaughter they
Of Women add, and seizing, as a Prey,
His guiltless Sisters, kill them. Thus rag'd new
Recover'd Liberty in Arms, and threw
The Yoak away. Some Punick Camps require;
Some the Italian, and known Friends desire:
Nor was there wanting some, that, full of Rage,
Refus'd in League with either to engage.

Such were Trinacria's Broils, such was the State
Of Sicily, by the young Tyran's Fate;
When high in Honour (for, as 'twice before,
Then, a third Time, He Latian Fasces bore)
Marcellus with his Fleet arriv'd upon
Zanclæan Coasts: and, when all things were known,
The Murther of the King; th'ambiguous Minde
O'th' People; and what Places Arms had join'd
With Carthage; what their Strength; who firmly stood
In Amity with Rome; what vain, and proud
Conceits then Arethusa entertain'd,
Who at the Gates his Entrance did withstand;
Close to the War he falls, and, with an high
Incensed Breast, lets the whole Fury fly
Of's Arms, through all the Neighb'ring places. So
Himself, from Rhodope, doth Boreas throw,
And with Tenth Waves against the Earth doth raise
The Main, and, following th'ejected Seas,
Raves with his roaring Wings. By the first War
Leontine Territories wasted are;
A Land, where once the cruel Læstrigon
Did reign. The General went, Furious, on;

397

To whom it seem'd all one, if slowly He
Subdu'd the Græcian Forces, as to be
O'recome. Through all the Plain they, Frighted, fly
So, as you'd think they were a Company
Of Women, that his Men at first withstood,
And Ceres Fields made Fertile with their Blood.
In ev'ry Place they 're slain: nor, as they run,
Would furious Mars permit them Death to shun.
Such, as hop'd Flight some Safety might afford,
The General prevented with his Sword:
And, urging on his Troops, that seem'd too slow,
With his Shield's Point, exclaims: Go, quickly Mow
With your keen Swords that coward People down;
That in their Wrastling Exercise, alone,
Are Skill'd; whose lazy Youth with Joy affect
The slender Praise, to be with Olive deckt;
When they those easy Conflicts, in a Shade,
Have undergon, and a poor Conquest made.
This must your onely Honour be, if You
The Enemy, as soon as Seen, subdue.
This from the Gen'ral heard, the Army, strait,
More furiously fall on, and press on Fate:
Now the sole Contest 'mong themselves remain'd,
Who should the Foremost be; what valiant Hand
The rest Excel in noblest Spoils. Not more
Enrag'd, the Billows of Euripus roar,
Broken 'gainst Caphareus: Propontis so
The bellowing Sea, with Violence, doth throw
From its strait Mouth: nor near the farthest Sun,
With greater Tumult, doth the Ocean run,
And strike th'Herculean Pillars. Yet in Heat
Of Blood, and Fury of a Fight so great,
Was the milde Grace of Noble Valour fam'd.
A Tyrrhene Souldier, Alylus Nam'd,

398

At Thrasimenus Lake once Captive made,
The milde Commands, and easy Bondage, had
Of Berra undergone, and Home agen,
With his kinde Master's leave, return'd: and then,
Resuming Arms, his former Misery
Reveng'd in the Sicilian War: while He
Was mingled, in the midst of all the Fight,
And did by Chance on's Master Berra light,
(Who, to the League from Carthage sent, did there,
Entring the Social War, an Helmet wear
Of Brass, that, shutting close, secur'd his Face)
The Youth He with his Sword invades, and as,
Fainting with feeble Steps, he left his Stand,
And Backward went, o'rethrew him on the Sand.
Hearing the Conqu'rour's Voice, poor Berra, strait
His fearful, lingring Soul from instant Fate
Recov'ring, from his Chin the Fastning tares
Of his then treach'rous Helmet; and to Pray'rs
Had farther Language added: but, amaz'd
At that so sudden Sight, Asylus gaz'd
On his known Face, and, as his Sword he stai'd
With's Hand, with Groans, and Tears obortive said;
Oh! beg not Life, I pray, or Doubtful so
Entreat: 'tis just, that I defend my Fo.
He the best Souldier is, who first, and last
In War, defends his Faith. Me, first, Thou hast
Rescu'd from Death, and, not preserved by
Thy Fo, didst him preserve. I'de not Deny
My Self (who have endur'd so much of Ill)
To be Unworthy, and deserving still
To fall into things Worse, should this my Hand
Not make thy Way where Fire, and Sword withstand.
And kindly raising him, as this he said,
With Life the Benefits of Life repay'd.

399

His first Attempts in Sicily thus blest
With Quiet; Troops Marcellus forward prest,
And his Victorious Eagles turning to
The Ephyreian Walls, he straitway drew
About the Syracusian Towr's a Line:
Yet did his love of Fighting now decline.
With grave Advice he strives to take away
Their blind Resolves, and Fury to allay.
But (lest perhaps they might refuse, or fear
To credit Offers, that so Gentle were)
The Siege with strictest Guards still forward went,
And He, with cautious Arms, then more intent,
Watch'd, fearless, in the Front, with secret Care
Designing Dangers, not expected there.
So in the Po, or in Cayster's Streams,
Swims the White Swan, and, while her Body seems
Unmov'd, with the prone River forward goes,
And with her Feet through silent Surges rows.

But, while the Town, Besieg'd, still doubtful stands,
What to resolve; their Arms, and Social Bands,
Th'excited People, and the Cities sent
T'enforce the Camp. Thither Messana went,
That lies upon the Sea, from Latian Ground
Too far disjoyn'd, by Oscan Tribes renown'd:
Then Catinè, too near Typhæus Flame,
And for two pious Brothers known to Fame;
And Camerina, not by Fates to be
Once mov'd: then Hybla, that presumes with Thee
(Hymettus) Hives of Nectar to compare.
Selinis, that so many Palms doth bear;
And Myle, once a Port secure, but now
The Shore alone a Refuge doth allow,
And dangerous to such as scape the Sea.
Then lofty Eryx and Centuripe,

400

From her high Mountain, with Entella, came,
Entella plentiful in Wine, a Name
To Troy's Acestes dear. Then Tapsos, and
Acra, that high on Icy Hills doth stand.
With these an Agathyrnian Band was there,
And Tyndaris, that glories in her Pair
Of Læda's Sons, and Agragas, that breeds,
And brings her num'rous Troops of Warlike Steeds,
That all the Air inflame with Neighing loud,
And roll unto the Walls a dusty Cloud.
Their Leader Grosphus was, whose carved Shield
The Monument of antient Torture held;
A fierce Bull's Image; which, while Bodies, burn'd
By Flames put underneath, to bellowings turn'd
Sad Groans, and you'd believe some Oxen goar'd,
And driven from their Stalls, then truly roar'd.
But, this reveng'd, th'Inventer of so Dire
An Art; did, bellowing, in his Bull expire.
Thither came Hesa, thither Gela came,
Gela, that from the River takes her Name:
And the Palîci, where the Perjur'd are
Tortur'd by present Punishment: and there
Trojan Acesta was, and Acys, who
Through Ætna's Vales into the Sea doth flow,
His dear Nymph washing with a pleasant Stream,
Once in thy Flame a Rival, Polypheme:
But, while He fled thy Barb'rous Rage, into
Small Streams dissolv'd, at once, he scap'd his Fo,
And his victorious Waters mix'd among
His Galathêa's Waves. With These, along
Came Those, that murm'ring Alabis; and those,
That Hyspa drink, and the perspicuous Flows
Of clear Achates: Vagedrusa too,
And Hypates, whose Chanel runs so low:

401

Pantagya likewise, easy to be past,
Through his small Current; and, which runs so fast,
The Yellow-Stream'd Siméthus. Thermæ then,
Of old enrich'd with Muses, Arm'd her Men,
Where Hymera descends into the Seas:
For it divides it self two sev'ral Ways,
And runs to East, and West, with equal Force.
Two-Crown'd Nebrodes keepeth this Divorce;
Then which, no Hill with a Sicanian Shade
Doth rise more Rich: this lofty Enna made
A sacred Fortress to the Groves of Gods.
Here a dark Path to Stygian Abodes
A Cave, that opens wide the gaping Ground,
Detects, through which a strange new Lover found
A Way to unknown Coasts. Pluto this way,
Inflam'd with Lust, durst venture up to Day,
And, leaving doleful Acheron, above,
On the forbidden Earth, his Chariot drove.
Then, having Ravish'd the Ennæan Maid;
In Haste, retiring, his black Steeds, affrai'd
To view the Face of Heav'n, and flying Day,
Drove back to Styx, and hid in Shades his Prey.
Petreia Romane Leaders then desir'd:
And Romane Leagues Callipolis requir'd;
And Eugion, arch'd with Stone: and there they see
Hadranum, and Hergentum, Melitè,
Proud of her stately Webs, and wealthy Store
Of Wool: Melactè, with a Fishy Shore:
And Cephalædias, near the stormy Main;
Whose boist'rous Coast, in the Cœrulean Plain,
Feeds the vast Whales: the Tauromenians too,
Where Ships by dire Charybdis, in their view,
In quick-devouring Gulphs are swallow'd down,
And from the Bottom strait again are thrown

402

Up to the Stars. These Latine Arms approv'd,
And under the Laurentine Ensigns mov'd.

The rest of the Sicilian People there,
With Elysæan Vows, in Arms appear.
A thousand were the Agathyrnian Bands;
As many Strongylos, that South-ward stands:
A thousand sent Fascellina, the Seat
Of the Thoantean Goddess: Thrice as great
A Number gave Panormos; some, that kill'd
Wilde Beasts in Chase; and some in Fishing skill'd;
And some, that could the Birds from Heav'n allure.
Herbesos then, nor Naulochum secure
Of Danger sate: nor, with her Shady Plains,
Morgentia from this treach'rous War abstains.
Joyn'd with Nemæan Forces, thither came
Amastra; thither Thisse small in Name;
Netum with these, and Micitè combin'd;
With these Achetum, and Sidonia joyn'd;
And Depane; and, vex'd with roaring Waves,
Helorus; and Triochala, by Slaves
Soon after Wasted; Arabeia fierce;
Iëtas high; and Tabas, to converse
With Arms most ready; and Cossyra small,
And Mutè, which not Megara at all
Exceeds in Bigness, came, with joynt consent,
To Libya's Aid; with Caulon eminent
For her calm Sea; when She the Halcyon hears
Singing, and the scarce-moving Water bears
The swimming Nests on Surges strangely still'd.

But the fam'd City (Syracusa) fill'd
Her spacious Walls with various Arms, and Men,
Collected from all parts. The People, then
Facile, and ready Tumults to desire,
Their Leaders with this boasting Language Fire;

403

That their four Tow'rs, and Walls, no Fo, as yet,
Had entred; That their Fathers saw how great
A Cloud, so inaccessible a Town,
Through situation of her Port, had thrown
Upon the Salaminian, Victories,
And Eastern Trophies; when, before their Eyes,
Three hundred Ships, and Athens, in whose Ayd
The Ruins of the Persian King were made
To serve, in one great Wrack, while they sustain
No Loss at all, were swallow'd in the Main.
Two Brothers (born in Carthage, and ally'd
To Carthaginians, by the Mother's side,
Whose Father, a Sicilian, banished
From Syracuse, had them in Libya bred;
In whom Sicanian Levity conspir'd,
With Tyrian Fraud, the giddy People fir'd.
Which when Marcellus saw, and that no Cure
The Wounds of their Sedition would endure,
(The War still growing, from the Fo, more high)
He streight attests the Gods of Sicily,
Thy Fountains, Arethusa, and the Lakes,
And Rivers; That unwillingly he takes
The War in hand, and that those Arms (which He
Ne're of himself assum'd) the Enemy
Forc'd him to bear. With that, the Wall he storms,
And Thunders on the City with his Arms.
An equal Fury them together all
Draws on: on either side they Fight, and Fall.
With many Cov'rings seeming to invade
The Stars in height, and by a Græcian made
Ten Stories high, which Shades of many a Grove
Consum'd, a Tow'r there was, from whence they strove
To roll down mighty Stones, and Engines, which
With Fire were Arm'd, and pow'r down scalding Pitch.

404

Here Cimber, at a distance having thrown
A burning Lamp, the Fatal Weapon on
The side had fix'd: The Fire, assisted by
The Force of Wind, quite through the Tow'r doth fly,
And through the lofty Machine's sev'ral Floors,
Encreasing, climbes, and trembling Beams devours
With rapid Flames, which (Smoak, like Billows, thick
To Heav'n ascending) soon Victorious, lick
The shining Top. All places, fill'd with Smoak,
And Clouds of Darkness as, with a fierce Stroak
Of Thunder dash'd, none scaping it, they all,
In one vast ruin, into Ashes fall.

Like Fortune on the other Side, by Sea,
The Ships attended. For, when nearer they
Unto the City, and the Houses, drew,
Where the Port brings the calmed Waters to
The Walls, a Mischief Unexpected there
Fills (by a new Device) their Hearts with Fear.
A Beam (exactly Smooth, and ev'ry where
Like a Ship's Mast, the Knots shav'd off) did bear
Strong Grapples, firmly fix'd, and seising all
That Fought, from the high Rampart of the Wall,
Caught them aloft with Hooks of Ir'n, and to
The midst of all the City, backward, threw.
Nor did this Force thus toss the Men alone,
But, when the Steel, impuls'd, was downward thrown
Upon a Ship, and the impetuous Stroak
Fix'd the tenacious Teeth within the Oak,
Aloft the Vessel's tost, and suddenly
The Chains, with Art, let loose (most Sad to see)
With such a Force into the Sea agen
Is thrown, that it there sinks with all the Men.
Beside these Stratagems, the Wall, by Art
Made hollow, narrow Loop-holes did impart;

405

Through which, upon the Fo they might, secure,
Discharge their Weapons, from the Counter-Mure:
And this so cunningly Contriv'd, the Fo,
Through the same Way, no Shafts again could throw.

Thus Græcian Policy, and Art excell'd
Their Arms, and both by Sea, and Land, repell'd
Marcellus, with his mighty Threatnings, and
Before the Walls a dreadful War doth stand.
The Man (th'Isthmiack Swains Immortal Fame)
In Wit, with ease, all other overcame,
That then the World produc'd. Not rich; but One,
To whom the Heavens, and all the Earth was known.
He, by the Sun's obscured Rays, at Birth
Of Day, could tell what Storms would fall: if Earth
Were Fix'd, or did Instable hang: why, bound
By certain Leagues, this Globe's encompass'd round
By Thetis Waves: the Labours of the Sea,
And Moon, what Laws the Ocean's Tides obey.
Nor is it vain to think, that He the Sand
Of the vast World could Count; who, by the Hand
Of a weak Woman, could, with so much Skill,
Draw Ships, and heaps of Stones against an Hill.

While thus, with Stratagems, He wearied all
The Teucri, and the Romane General;
An hundred Sail of Tyrian Ships their Way
Made towards their Relief, and plow'd the Sea.
Erected now with sudden Hopes, their Fleet
Lanch'd from the Port, the Syracusians meet,
And joyn with them: nor, on the other Side,
Was the Ausonian backward to provide
His Navy; but, with drowned Oars, apace
Cuts through the Ocean, whose beaten Face
With frequent Stroaks grows White, and, where they cleave
The Billows, a broad Path of Foam they leave.

406

Both, equally, insult upon the Main;
And Neptune's Empire with new Storms again
Trembles, through which their Shouts, and Clamours sound,
And Ecchoes, full as loud, from Rocks rebound.
And now, drawn out for Fight, the Warriours stood,
And compass with their Wings the spacious Flood,
And with their Naval Toils the Wat'ry Plain
Include. Both Navies, in like Form amain,
Came on, and with their Moon-like Circles crow'd
The foaming Waves. Now, no Delay's allow'd;
The dreadful Murmurs of the cruel Brass,
Sounding the Charge, through all the Ocean pass:
Which rouzing Triton, frighted him; their Yell,
And Noise, contending with his crooked Shell.
Scarce they the Sea rememb'red, with so prone
A Fury to the Battel they go on,
And, standing on the Gallie's Margents, throw
Uncertain Darts, still nodding to and fro:
The Sea between them is with Weapons strew'd;
While the tall Vessel rising, as they row'd
With lab'ring Stroaks, the foaming Billows cleaves
With the black Keel, and so their Aim deceives.
But some in Fight were torn, and with the stroke
Of the Assaulting Ship their Oars were broke;
Some swiftly through the Bulk of others strike
With their sharpe Prows, and in the Breach alike
Are stop'd, and stop. But then, amidst them all,
A Gally (terrible to Sight, and Tall
Above the rest, then which none had before
More large been Lanch'd from the Sidonian Shore)
Strikes with four hundred Oars, at once, the Main,
And, Proud of her large Sails, that could retain
Strong Boreas, and gather ev'ry Blast
With her wide Yards, but very slowly past,

407

If onely driv'n with Oars, She put to Sea.
The Latine Ships, more ready to obey
The Pilot's hand, and charg'd with fighting Men,
Made Way with more Celerity. Which when
Himilco, through the calmed Ocean, spy'd,
Advancing, and commanded on his Side
To give the Charge, obliquely with their Prows,
All the Sea-Gods invoking to his Vows,
(As was his Custom) strait an Arrow to
Th'extended Nerve he fits, and 'gainst a Fo
Directs it with his Ey, and when, again
His Arms releas'd, he shew'd the flying Kain
Its Passage through the Air, his steddy Look
Pursuing, brought it to a Wound; and strook,
Nailing it to the Helm, the Pilot's Hand;
Which, now, no more was able to command,
So maim'd, the yielding Stern, where he was plac'd:
And, while unto his Aid the Sea-Men haste,
As if the Ship were taken, 'midst them all,
With the like Fate, and Nerve, a Shaft doth fall
Again, which Taurus, as he undertook
The vacant Helm, quite through the Body strook.

But now, at length, a Cuman Ship broke in,
Which Corbulo commanded, and had been
With chearful Youths at Stabiæ fill'd, of late.
The Guardian Goddess (neighb'ring Venus) sate
On the high Poop. This charging very near,
The Object of all Shafts, amidst them there
Sinking, the yielding Waters doth divide;
And their Mouths foaming Nereus (as they cry'd
For Aid) fills with his Brine, and, as they strove
In vain, the Sea them sucking in, above
The Waves their Hands appear. But here, behold!
With an huge Leap, quite cross the Billows, bold

408

With Rage, leap'd Corbulo upon the Decks
(For now the Gallies, which strong Bands connex
Of Ir'n, a Tow'r of Oak brought up) and there,
Like a dire Comet, shaking, in the Air,
On the high Top, a flaming Pine, the Fires
With Brimstone fed, with which the Winde conspires,
Throws 'mong the Libyan Flags. The Lemnian God
Soon enters, and their Hatches, all abroad
Diffus'd, strait fills: the Rowers, full of Fear,
Forsake their Benches; yet, although they were
So hard Beset, the Noise of that so great,
And fatal Mischief, did not Penetrate
To those below, till running fiercely down,
By unctuous Lamps, and Torches thither thrown,
Victorious Flames whizz through the Hold. Yet where
From Dardan Fire, and Smoak, as yet, they were
Untouch'd, and Free, the dire Himilco held
His Gallie's Fate, and them with Stones repell'd.
And here poor Cidnus, while a flaming Brand
I'th' Air He brandish'd, from Lichæus Hand
Into the Ocean, by a Mural Stone,
From the Decks, slippery with Blood, was thrown.
Then, with a filthy Stink, a Lamp the Air
Pollutes, and Hisseth on the Waves: and there
A missile Weapon Sabrata lets fly,
From the adored Poop: the Deity
O'th' Libyan Ship was Hammon, who survay'd
With his Horn'd Brow the Sea. Now, Father, Aid,
And graunt (Thou Garamantick God) that We
May 'gainst the Romanes fling sure Darts (said He.)
Then from the trembling Throng, as this he spoke,
A Cornel came, that through the Visage broke
Of Neptune's Neighbour, Telon: nev'rtheless
He, in the Gate of Death, doth forward press

409

On those, who Flying, in a Crowd, retir'd
Into a part o'th' Ship as yet not fir'd.
But, when th'inevitable Fire had past,
Like Lightning, through whate're was next, at last,
The whole Ship to victorious Flames was made
A Prey: but first Himilco, by the Aid
Of a Sea-Rope (where Vulcan had not yet
Rais'd to extreamest height his Stygian Heat)
A little scorch'd, slips down into the Sea,
And, by the Oars of Friends, is born away.
Next, wretched Batho, did thy Fate deprive
A Ship of a good Pilot, who couldst strive
With roughest Seas, and Weather by thy skill
The highest Storms; He could prevent what chill
Boreas next day, or Auster did intend:
Nor, Cynosura, couldst thou, though thou bend
Thy Course obscurely, his still-watchful Eye
Deceive. When he perceiv'd their Misery
No Measure had; Thou, Hammon, who dost see
This our unequal Fate, receive (said He)
My Blood. With that, into his Breast he drives
His Sword, and in's Right-Hand the Blood receives,
Which largely, 'twixt his Sacred Horns, he pours.
Daphnis, 'mong these, unhappy Fate devours,
(An antient Name) who chose to leave the Woods,
And chang'd his Farms for the perfidious Floods.
But how much more, under a Shepheard's Name,
Did the first of that Race excel in Fame?
To Daphnis the Sicelides inclin'd,
And a Castalian Pipe to him the kind
Apollo gave; commanding, when he lay'd
Himself along upon the Grass, and play'd,
To Daphnis the joy'd Flocks, through Medows, and
Through Fields, should haste, and Rivers Silent stand.

410

When on his seven-fold Reeds he play'd, the Woods
He charm'd, the Syrens, in their briny Floods,
Forgot to Sing, and Scylla's Dogs no more
Would bark, a quiet Face Charybdis bore,
And 'mong the Rocks, the Cyclops, overjoy'd,
Would hear his Lays. But here, by War destroy'd,
Fell the whole Progeny, and that great Name,
So Amiable for his sacred Flame.
On smoaking Planks fierce Ornytos away
Then swum, and lingred out a Death by Sea.
So Ajax, when her Thunder Pallas threw,
Did rising Waves with burning Arms subdue.
Marmarick Scyron, wounded by a Stem's
Sharp Point quite through the Belly, part of's Limbs
Swim under Water, part above, and so
Through all the Ocean, on the Fatal Prow,
Is born away. The Ships the Fight pursue
Close, on both sides, and with a bloody Dew
From lab'ring Oars the Faces dash of those
That fought. With such fierce strokes Marcellus goes,
That his stout Gally overcame the Wind,
Which, as Libæus seizing fast behinde,
With eager Hands, endeavovur'd to have stop'd
With a sharp Ax his Members off were lop'd,
And, sticking to their Hold, were born away
By the swift Vessel. In this bloody Fray
Æölides Podetus did engage,
In a Sicanian Ship, although his Age
Not yet arriv'd to Man. He, whether by
Sinister Gods drawn thither, or his high
Hot spirit, and desire of War, not yet
Full ripe for Honour, painted Arms did fit
To his white Shoulders, proud so, with his tall
Chimæra, to disturbe the Sea. Now all

411

Rutulian Ships, now all the Libyan, He
Better in Oars, and Darts Triumphantly
Outstrip'd, and Nessus had already drown'd
In cruel Waves; Nessus with Turrets crown'd:
Alass! vain Glory! that did then so ill
Perswade a Boy to Fight, which wanted skill.
While for Marcellus Crest, which then he wore
On's dreadful Caske, and Spoils, he doth implore
The Gods, as he, too rashly, did advance,
A deadly Wound by a returned Lance
He took. Oh how much prais'd, whither he threw
The Discus, shining near the Stars; or drew
His Bow, and to the Clouds his Arrows sent:
Or run with winged Feet, and as he went
Scarce touch'd the Ground: or o're the measur'd Plains
By leaping past, taught by continual pains:
Enough of praise (fond Youth) didst thou acquire,
In such safe Conflicts, why didst thou aspire
To greater Deeds? When he was beaten down
And sunk, through num'rous Darts against him thrown,
Under the Waves, his shipwrack'd Corps, the while,
Deprived of his Syracosian Pile,
Cyclopean Rocks bemoan, with Cyane,
Anapus, Arethusa, and the Sea.

But Tiberinus, in another place,
Where then the Libyan Admiral did pass,
Drives on his Ship, and streight they Iö cry'd,
And cast their Grapples in on either side:
The Ships stand bound unto the Combat; nor
With Shafts, and Darts, at distance thrown, the War,
Do they pursue; but Fight it near at hand,
And with the Sword, as in a Fight at Land.
Where the first slaughter open'd, and did shew
A passage, the Italian Ships broke through;

412

While the vast Chains, and Iron Bands his Friends
Mæla advis'd to break, and sointends
Such, as had Boarded him, to bear away
Farther, from their then equal Arms, to Sea.

Yong Polypheme in an Ætnéan Cave
Was bred, and thence affected still to have
The Name of antient Fierceness, nurtur'd by
A She-Wolf, when a Childe; his Stature high,
And terrible of Bulk; a cruel Minde;
Rage ever in his Face; his Heart inclin'd
To Blood, as all the Cyclops: He, at length,
The Chains got loose, with all his Bodie's Strength,
Had driven on the Ship, and, in the Sea
Drowning his Oars, had born her quite away,
Had not Laronius, with a sudden Blow
Of's Lance, as he his Body rais'd to row,
Nail'd him to's Seat. Scarce he, in Death, forsook
What he begun: for, as its wonted Stroke
His Hand, then languishing, did still pursue
Upon the surface of the Sea, he drew
The lazy Oar; struck with the adverse Prow,
On one side, to the other, from the Fo
The Libyans throng'd; when with their sudden Weight
Oppress'd, Waves leaping in, on that side, strait
The Vessel under Water sinks, and there
Targets, and Crests, and useless Darts, that were
Pointed with Steel, with Guardian Gods, upon
The Ocean float. All Weapons lost: here One
Fights with a broken Plank, and so agen,
By Shipwrack, Arms himself for Fight; and then
Another, whom blinde Rage too rashly heats,
Spoils of her Oars the Ship, teras up the Seats
O'th' Seamen, and with no Distinction throws.
Neither from breaking Sterns, nor yet from Prows,

413

To deal intended Wounds, do they abstain,
And snatch up Weapons swimming on the Main.
The Waves at gaping Wounds break in, which strait
Their fleeting Souls with Sighs regurgitate,
Into the Sea. Some in a strict Embrace
Are drown'd, and, where no Weapons else have Place,
Kill, in their Death, their Foes. The Rage of those,
That from the Bottom rise, more Cruel grows,
And they resolve, for Swords, the briny Flood
To use, while Whirl-pits, coverd o're with Blood,
The turning Corps devour. Loud Clamours here
Are heard: sad Deaths, and Flight, and Groanings there,
With cracks of breaking Oars, and Stems, that beat
The Air with dreadful Ecchoes, as they meet.
Thus chaf'd, and overspread with War, the Sea
Grew hot; when, in a little Bark, away
Himilco stealing, weary of the Fight,
Towards the Coast of Libya, takes his Flight.

At length, both Greeks, and Libyans quit the Sea,
And now the captiv'd Ships are born away,
In a long Train, together link'd, to Land,
While some amidst the Deep still burning stand.
The Lemnian God shines o're the glitt'ring Seas,
Which brandish up, and down his trembling Rays.
There known at Sea burns Cyané, and here
The winged Siren burns, Europa there,
Who, in a white Bull's Shape, by Jove was born,
And cross'd the Ocean, holding by his Horn.
And Nerëis, who, with Hair dishevel'd, rides
A crooked Fish, and through the Ocean guides
The wat'ry Reins: there Phyton wand'ring o're
The Waves, and Hammon burns; with That, which bore
Eliza's Image, and, on either Side,
With twice three Oars, did o're the Billows ride.

414

But chain'd Anapus to his Native Shore
Is drag'd, with nimble Pegasus, that bore
His Gorgon Wings up to the Stars; and that
Tall Ship, where Carved Lybia's Image sate,
And Triton Captivate, and Ætna high
With Rocks (where buried, deep in Flames, doth ly
Panting Enceladus) is drag'd away,
With their Cadmæan Sidon. Nor had they
To break into their trembling Walls delay'd,
Nor from the Temples of the Gods had stay'd
Their Conqu'ring Engins then, if suddenly
Rais'd by the Envy of the Gods, and by
Their Toils at Sea, a dire Contagion, and
Devouring Sickness, had not set a stand
To all their Joys. For Sol with flaming Hair,
And influence of Fiery Stars, the Air
And Cyane, that open lyes, and swells
With Fenny Waters, round, with noisom smells
Of dire Cocytus fills, and so pollutes
Autumn, then Flourishing with store of Fruits,
And it inflames with Lightning: the thick Air
With Clouds of Darkness smoaks. Earth, ev'ry where,
Parch'd, with a vitiated Face appears,
Affords no Food, nor any Shadows bears
For fainting Man, and in the Pitchy Air,
Black Vapours move. Dogs are the first, that bear
The fury of this Plague; next, as they Flie,
Birds fall with flagging Pinions from the Skie;
Then Beasts within the Forests dy; at last
It creeps into the Camp, and there doth wast
Th'infected Troops: their tongues dry'd up, cold sweat
Creeps through their Entrails, or'e their Limbs: the Meat
Appointed for their sustenance, their dry,
And parched Jaws refuse to swallow: by

415

Sharp Coughs their Lungs are torn, and, Thirsty, from
Their panting Throats, a fiery Breath doth come.
Their Eys, scare able to endure the Light,
Sink from their crooked Noses, while they spit
Corruption mix'd with Blood; a shrivel'd Skin
Covers their Bones, the Flesh consum'd within.
Oh Greif! in their known Arms renowned, by
A lazy Death, the valiant Souldiers Dy:
Their stately Trophies, gain'd in many a War,
Are thrown into the Fire, no Med'cines are
Of Pow'r, but all too weak for the Disease.
Heap'd up, the Ashes of the Dead Encrease
To a vast Hill, though Bodies ev'ry where
Forsaken, and Unburied ly, through Fear
To touch infected Limbs. Thus sadly fed,
The Acherusian Plague doth farther spread,
And shakes with no less Grief Trinacrian Walls,
And on the Libyan Camp as fiercely falls.
Now, equal in their Ruin, ev'ry Place
The common Wrath of Heav'n, and the same Face
Of Death frequents: and yet no Force of all
These Ills could vanquish (while their General
Was safe) the Romanes: He, alone, secure,
Doth balance all the Woes, which they endure.

Soon, therefore, as the burning Dog allay'd
His deadly Heat, and the Contagion stay'd
The greedy Hand of Death, (as when the Seas,
The South-Winds ceasing, their rude Waves appease.)
The Fisher drives his Bark into the Main.
So his Youth, wasted by the Plague, again
At length Marcellus Arms, and ev'ry Band,
Purg'd with due Sacrifice, now Chearful stand
About their Ensigns, and o'rejoy'd appear,
That they then liv'd the Trumpet's Sound to hear.

416

Against the Fo they March, well-pleas'd, that they
(If Fates determine so) in Battel may
Dy by the Sword; it grieves them for their Friends,
Who, like to Beasts, by such Inglorious Ends,
Their un-commended Souls expired-in
Their Fatal Beds. Then to their Tombs agen,
And worthless Fun'ral Piles, they turn their Eys,
And rather wish, then see by Maladies
To be o'recome, to have no Graves at all.

The first, whose lofty Ensigns to the Wall
Advanc'd, the Gen'ral was. Their Faces in
Their Helmets hide that Leanness, which had bin
Contracted by their lying still: and so
That Paleness, which might animate the Fo,
Is from their Sight conceal'd. Then on they fall,
And in thick Bodies scale the batter'd Wall.
So many Houses, and strong Tow'rs by War,
Before unenter'd, by the Soldier,
At one Assault, are now surpriz'd. The Sun,
Wheree're his Chariot through the World doth run,
Could not behold a Town, that might compare
With Syracusa then: so many were
The Temples of the Gods, within the Wall
So numerous their Havens, and withall
Their Market-places, and their Theatres,
On lofty Columns rais'd, and mighty Bars
Contending with the Sea. Then add to these
Innumerable stately Palaces,
That, in long Rows, most spatious, appear
Like Countries; with the Groves, which Sacred were
To Sports of Youth, which Limits large enclose
With ample Galleries: then captiv'd Prows,
And Stems of Ships adorn the Temples, mix'd
With num'rous Arms, that to the Gods were fix'd;

417

Which or the Marathonian Fo had lost,
Or else were brought from Conquer'd Libya's Coast.
And there Agathocléan Trophies shin'd;
There Hieron's great Riches: there they finde
Antiquity by Artists Sacred made.
Not any Place, in any Age, ('tis said)
More glorious was in Pictures: there they take
All Works of Brass, that Ephyrè could make;
Garments with Yellow Gold contending, where
The Images in Texture breath: and, there,
What Babylon could boast engrav'd, or Tyre,
Proud in embroider'd Purple, could admire;
What in Attalick Arras Needles wrought,
And varied with Art, or could be bought
From Pharian Looms, with Silver Goblets, rich
With Gems, and Images of Gods, the which
The Deity, first giv'n by Art, retain:
Beside the Spoils o'th' Erythræan Main
Was made their Prey, with Fleeces, which from Trees
The Serian Women card. This Wealth, and these
Rich Houses, when the Romane General
Had taken; standing High, upon the Wall,
The City (Trembling with their Shouts) he views,
And, when he found it left to his Refuse,
Whether the Fabricks, there, of Kings should be
Left standing, or the following Day should see
No Walls at all, he sadly Groans: and then,
Griev'd, that so much was left to cruel Men,
He speedily recalls the Souldiers Ire;
Commanding, that the Houses stand entire,
And that the Antient Gods their Temples there
Inhabit still. The Conquer'd thus to spare
Was better worth then Spoil, and Vict'ry stood
Content, and clap'd her Wings unstain'd with Blood.

419

Tears, for Thee, likewise, from the General
(Thou fam'd Defender of thy Country) fall,
Whom, drawing Lines, and Figures in the Sand,
(While in so great a Ruin thou dost stand
Untouched, and Idæas dost pursue)
By Chance an Ign'rant Common Souldier slew.

But now again their minds the People give
To Mirth, in which the Conquer'd seem to strive
Ev'n with the Conquerours. He, emulous
O'th' nature of the Gods, preserving, thus,
The City, built it: which still stands to be
A glorious Trophy to Posterity,
And shall continue, that the Manners, so
Of antient Generals the World may know:
Happy the People, if, as Antiently
In War, our Towns could now preserved be
From Spoils in Peace! for if his Care, by whom
We now, enjoy our Peace had not o'recome
That boundless Rage of Plundring all: the Hand
Of Rapine had quite bar'd both Sea, and Land.

The End of the Fourteenth Book.

419

The Fifteenth Book.

The Argument.

Scipio (his Father, and his Uncle, slain)
Made Consul, undertakes the War of Spain;
Though but five Lustra old. The vain Delights
Of Youth, to which fond Pleasure him invites,
He flyes, and Virtue follows. Then by Sea
To Spain he hasts: and, in one happy Day,
An Omen to his future Conquests makes
New Carthage, which he, sudden, storms, and takes.
His Chastity: that to her Princely Spouse
A Captiv'd Beauteous Maid, untouch'd, allows.
The Macedonian King incursions makes
Upon the Græcian Coasts. Old Fabius takes
Tarentum. The Numidian Troops surprize
Marcellus by an Ambush, where he dies.
His Obsequies by Hannibal perform'd.
The Libyan Camp, in Spain, by Scipio storm'd
Young Hasdrubal over Pyrene flies:
Perswades the Gauls with him, in Arms, to rise,
And Italy invades, where he again
Is by the Romans overthrown, and slain
By Nero, who his Head upon a Spear,
In Triumph, to the Romane Camp doth bear.

But a new Care Rome's Senate now perplext
(The Nations trembling at their Loss) who next
Should Rule, and undertake the War of Spain.
By a proud Fo both Scipioes were slain

420

(Two Warlike, Valiant Brothers) hence a Fear,
Lest the Tartessiack People should adhere
To Tyrian Laws, and dread the War, at Hand.
The State thus shaken, sad the Senate stand:
Looking about for Remedies, and pray
Th'Immortal Gods to give them One, that may,
With Courage, in the shatter'd Camp succeed,
As General. The Noble Youth, indeed,
Eager his Father's, and his Uncle's Shade
To vindicate, sad Troops of Friends disswade,
And, adding by their Sorrows to their Fears,
Sadly recount the Number of his Years:
Should he into that Fatal Country go,
Amidst the Ashes of his Friends; that Fo
He there must Fight, who had the Counsels foil'd,
And Arms of two great Generals, and boil'd
With Pride of his Success. Nor was it for
His tender Arms to Manage such a War;
Or that Command, at such Unskilful Years,
To undertake. The Youth these Cares, and Fears,
(Alone, retiring to the farthest Part
Of all his House) revolved in his Heart,
Under a Laurel Shade. When suddenly,
Here Virtue, Pleasure there, (her Enemy)
Descending through the Air, on either hand,
Exceeding Humane Stature, by him stand.
The One breath'd Persian Odours from her Head;
Her Amber-Hair upon her Shoulders spread;
Shining with Yellow Gold, a Tyrian Vest
She wore; the Beauty of her Front exprest
The Bodkin's Art; and from her Wanton Ey
The frequent Flames, with dubious Motion, fly:
A diff'rent Habit did the Other wear;
Her Forehead rough, and never chang'd by Hair

421

Compos'd; a steddy Look; her Gesture nigh
To Man's, and such her Face; with Modesty
Chearful; upon her lofty Shoulders shin'd
A Snow-white Robe. Then Pleasure first (inclin'd
To promise Much) thus seizeth him. What Rage,
What Fury's this (brave Youth) thy Flow'r of Age
Thus to Consume in Fighting? Art thou so
Unmindful of dire Cannæ, and the Po?
Or Thrasimen, then Styx more grievous far?
To what end do you Thus the Fates, by War,
Provoke? Th'Atlantick Kingdoms you prepare
To try, and Tyrian Houses. But forbear
(Let me advise) to strive with Dangers so,
Or thy Self rashly, as before, to throw
Into those Storms of Arms; unless you shun
Those Rites, sad Virtue, here, will bid you run
Into the midst of Armies, and through Fire.
'Tis She, that (Prodigal) thy noble Sire,
Thy Uncle (Paulus) and the Decii, down
Into the Lakes of Erebus hath thrown;
While Titles to their Ashes She proclaims,
And gilds their Tombs with Memorable Names.
Yet are their Souls Insensible what She
Performs. But, Youth, if Thou wilt go with Me,
In a smooth Path thy Days (allow'd by Fate)
Shall pass. No Trumpet's Sound shall violate
Thy troubled Sleeps: nor Northern Frosts, nor Heat
Of burning Cancer shalt thou Feel. Nor eat
On Tables, oft compos'd of bloody Grass.
Dire Thirst, Dust, swallow'd under Casks, shall pass
By Thee, and Labours, undergone with Fear.
But bright thy Days, and all thy Minutes clear
Shall run. Thou may'st grow Old with dainty Fare.
What mighty things by God provided are,

422

For Man's more chearful Use? what Joys hath He,
With a full Hand, bestow'd? and Him to be
Th'Example of a Quiet Life we finde,
Living at Ease, with an untroubled Minde.
I'me She, that Venus, near to Simois Stream,
Joyn'd to Anchîses, whence the Authour came
Of your Great Race. Ev'n I am She, for whom
Jove sometimes hath been willing to become
A Bird, sometimes a Bull; and this Advice
Observe. Life swift from Mortals runs; nor twice
Can any Man be born: away Time flys;
And Hell's swift Torrent, swallowing all, denies,
That You, if any thing hath pleas'd you here,
It to the Shades below, from hence, shall bear.
And who is He, that grieves not, at the last
(Too late alass!) that all my Hours are past?

When She was silent, and an End had made
Of Speaking. In what Darkness (Virtue said)
What Cheats of Life, this Youth, in's prime of Age,
Dost thou endeavour (flatt'ring) to Engage?
Unto whom Reason, by the will of Heav'n,
And a great Mind's celestial Seeds are giv'n.
As much as Gods above do Men exceed,
So They all other Creatures. For, indeed,
Such Nature to the Earth, as lesser Gods,
Hath giv'n: and hath Condemn'd to Hell's Abodes,
By fix'd Decree, degen'rate Souls. But All,
That keep their Heav'nly Seed's Original
Entire, shall enter Heav'n. What should I tell
Of great Alcides, who did all debel?
Or Bacchus; whose Triumphal Chariot, through
The Cities, fierce Caucasean Tigers drew;
After the Seres, and the Indians He
Had Conquer'd, and brought Home, with Victory,

425

His Ensigns from the East? What should I say
Of those fam'd Twins, to whom the Sea-men pray
In Danger? or of your Quirînus? See
How God to Heav'n hath rais'd Man's Face, which he
Erect hath made! While Birds, and Beasts, with all
Of baser Kinde, upon their Bellies fall.
Thrice Happy and (if they the Gifts Embrace
O'th' Gods) to Honour born is Humane Race.
Do but consider this; (I'le not repeat
Too many things) by Valour, now, how Great
Is Rome become? once, much Inferiour to
Threatning Fidenæ, and Content to grow
In a poor Sanctuary. Then behold,
What wealthy Cities Luxury, of Old,
Hath overthrown! For not so much the Ire
Of all the Gods, nor Swords, nor Foes conspire,
To Ruin; as when Pleasure seizeth on
The Minde alone. Thy sure Companion
Is Drunkenness, with Riot: and on Thee
Still, with black Wings, waits Infamy. With Me
Is Honour, Praise, and, with a chearful Ey,
Glory, with fair Renown, and Victory,
Unstain'd, as are her Snow-white Wings. His Head
With Lawrel compass'd, Me doth Triumph lead
Up to the very Stars. My House is Chast,
And on a lofty Hill my Dwelling's plac't.
The Way, that up the stony Cliff doth go,
At first is rough (I'm not Accustom'd to
Deceive) and they must Labour, that intend
To enter there. Nor doth that Wealth ascend
With them, which faithless Chance hath giv'n, and can
Force back again. Strait the whole Race of Man,
(Standing above) beneath Thee, thou shalt see,
And all things contrary to that, which She

426

Doth, flatt'ring, promise, must be undergone.
You sleepless Nights, under the Stars, (upon
The hard Ground lying) must Endure. You must
Hunger, and Cold subdue: so strictly Just,
That, whatsoever things you take in Hand,
Think that the Gods as Witnesses shall stand
Of all your Deeds. Then, when your Country's, or
The Dangers of the State require, for War
Be you first ready, Hostile Ramparts scale
The first: let neither Gold, nor Swords prevail
Upon your Minde. Robes stain'd with Tyrian Dye,
And sweet Perfumes (in Men unhansome) fly;
I'le bring to pass, that He, who now the Land
Infests with cruel War, shall by thy Hand
Be vanquish'd, and, the Libyans quite Destroy'd,
Thy Lawrel in Jove's Bosom shall be lay'd.

This sung by Virtue, from her Sacred Breast:
The Youth, whose Looks approv'd what She exprest,
With these Examples joy'd, She turns: but yet
Pleasure holds not her Tongue, but, in a Heat,
Exclaims. I weigh You not at all, 'twill come,
My Time (I'me sure) will come, when easy Rome,
With all her Might, my Empire will obey,
And unto Me alone will Honour pay.
Thus having said, shaking her wanton Head,
Into dark Clouds, from them, away she fled.

But the Youth, full of Precepts, and inflam'd
With Love of Virtue, so appearing, aim'd
At Mighty things, within his Heart: and then
Ascends the Rostra, and, while other Men
So hot a Service shun'd, desires to bear
The heavy Charge of that ambiguous War.
The Minds of all intent upon him were:
Some thinke his Father's Eys, some thinke they there

425

Behold again his Uncle's furious Look.
But yet (though, with deep Silence, Terrour strook
Their Hearts) sad with great Dangers: with their Fears
That War's great Weight they ponder; then his Years
Their anxious Favour numbers. But, while they
These things, with their confused Murmurs, weigh;
From a cross Quarter of the Heav'n, behold!
A Serpent, shining Bright with Spots of Gold,
Seems 'mong the Clouds to pass, and, through the Air
Rays from the flaming Tract diffusing, where
The Clime to Heav'n-supporting Atlas tends,
The Pole resounding with the Noise, descends.
Jove to the Augury adding twice, or thrice,
A shining Bolt, the scatter'd Thunder flies
Through all the shaken World. Then they command,
That, instantly, he take his Arms in hand;
And, humbly prostrate on their Knees, full low
Salute the Omen, and now bid him go
Whither (as it appear'd) the Gods did lead,
And the Path, shew'd him by his Father, tread.

And, now, with Emulation, such as are
Joyn'd in Affairs, and Ministers of War,
Together flock, and Earnest are to share
The hardest Labours: the same Arms to bear
With him, is Honour held. Then strait to Sea
Goes a new Fleet: on him Ausonia
Attends, and is transported into Spain.
As when dire Wars on the Cœrulean Plain
Fierce Corus makes, with hollow Floods, he heaves
The lofty Isthmos up, and with rude Waves
Forcing, at length, through groaning Rocks, his Way,
Mingleth th'Iönian with Ægêan Sea.

Stately, in Arms, shines Scipio, and, within
The foremost Ship, to Neptune doth begin.

428

Now th'seventh Day, by bright Hyperion's Flame,
Arose, when sensibly they nearer came
To the Town's Tow'rs; whose Tops encreas'd, as they
Approach'd, and Lælius, at his Time, by Sea
Arriving (as before the General
Appointed had) his Navy to the Wall
Draws up, and with his num'rous Ships, behinde,
The Town invests. Carthage, by Nature's kinde
Assistance, hath high Walls, which by the Sea
Encompass'd are, and, tow'rds the rising Day,
A little Isle, its narrow Mouth doth close.
But, where it looks to Phœbus fall, it throws
Up standing Pools, into a muddy Plain,
Which coming Tides encrease, and Ebbs again
Abate. But, where it Fronts the Northern Bear,
Standing upon a lofty Hill, it there,
Steep, to the Neighb'ring Ocean descends,
And with Eternal Floods her Wall defends.
But the bold Soldiers, as if, marching in
A Plain, they Conqu'ring Ensigns brought, begin
To climb the Hill. Arris Commanded there
In Chief, and, had against them, through a Fear
Of some Distress, himself with Aids supply'd,
And all the Hill, and Castle fortifi'd.
A Fo the nature of the Place doth prove,
And with small Force, of those that fought above,
Th'Assailants tott'ring, through the places High,
And Steep, are tumbled down, and maimed Dy.

But, when the turning Tide retir'd again,
And, with a rapid Fall into the Main,
The Billows fled; where tall Ships, lately, Plough'd
The Waves, safe Passage Nereus there allow'd
A Foot. And this Way noble Scipio,
Consulting with his Thoughts, resolv'd to go,

429

Draws through the Sea his Men, and suddenly
Up to the Walls doth through the Waters fly.
And, when with Speed, behinde, they hasten on,
Where Arris, trusting to the Sea, the Town
Had left without a Guard; strait (sad to tell)
His Neck in Chains, the Libyan Prostrate fell,
And bade the People all, disarm'd, to yield.
This City Titan, when he rose, beheld
Circled with Camps; and captiv'd saw the same,
Before in Western Seas he hid his Flame.

Th'ensuing Morn from Earth had chas'd away
Night's Shades, when first they Altars raise: then Slay
Unto the God of Seas, for Sacrifice,
A Bull; and so to Jove. Then equallize
Rewards to all Deserts: and, gain'd with Blood,
Valour her Crown receives. Here, shining, stood
One with rich Trappings on his Breast; and there
Another, on his Warlike Neck, did wear
A golden Snake: this with a Mural Crown
Was honour'd. But then, Lælius (in renown
Both of his Family, and Valour, all
Excelling) is created Admiral.
Besides a Gift of thirty Oxen, and
The Libyan's Arms that did, in Chief, command.
Then Spears to some, and Martial Ensigns are
To others giv'n (as they deserv'd) and share
Of Spoils. And when the Praise of Gods, and Men,
Was perfected, their Captive Riches then
Survay'd, and Prey lay'd up; this Gold was for
The Senate, and those Talents for the War.
This Kingdom they for Donatives Design;
That for the Temples of the Pow'rs Divine
Is Chiefly kept: whatever else remains
Rewards the Souldiers Valour, and their Pains.

430

Then the Iberian King, whose Sponsal Flame
Was fix'd deep in his Bones, as summon'd, came;
To whom, much joy'd, his Spouse, a Virgin Fair,
And Pure, he chearful gave. Then, free from Care,
Their Tables spread upon the Neighb'ring Shore,
And feasting High, with solemn Sports, before
The rest, thus Lælius. Brave General,
Go on, ador'd, for thy Chast Minde, through all
The World! To Thee the Glory, and the Praise,
And (celebrated in Immortal Lays)
The Valour of great Heroes shall give Way.
That Captain, who a thousand Ships by Sea
From the Mycenæ drew, and Argive Arms
Joyn'd with Thessalian, through a Woman's Charms,
Infring'd his Social League, and they beheld
All Tents, within the Phrygian Army, fill'd
With Captive Beds. A Barb'rous Maid by Thee
Alone, more spotless, in Virginity
Is kept, then Troy's Cassandra. Thus the Day,
In Talk, they spent, till Night in dark Aray
Rais'd her black Steeds, inviting all to Rest.

In the mean Time, Æmathian Broils infest
Th'Ætolian Land, invaded suddenly
By Macedonian Ships: an Enemy,
With whom the Acarnanian quickly joyn'd.
For then King Philip, in a League combin'd
With Libya, against the Romane Name
Those new Commotions had rais'd. The Fame
Of his Descent, his Antient Crowns, and Throne
From the Æäcides, and Thetis Son,
(His Grand-Sire) puff'd him up. Now, He with Fear
Of's Arms, by Night, fill'd Oricon: and where,
On the Illyrick Coast, Taulentians dwell,
In small, and nameless Walls, upon them fell.

431

With furious War. Thence passing on by Sea,
Tesprotian Borders, and Phœnicia
Alarm'd: with vain Attempts, he Epire view'd,
Then on the Coast of Anactorium shew'd
His Ensigns: then th'Ambracian Bay, and Shores
Of Pella scour'd with rapid War, his Oars
Beating Leucate's chafing Waves, he streight
At Actium saw Apollo's sacred Seat.
Nor left he Ithaca (Laërtes Throne)
Untri'd: nor Sames; nor those Rocks whereon
White-foaming Floods the Cephalenians see.
And Neriton with Rocky Fields: then He
To Pelops Countrey went, glad to behold
Achaian Walls, and Calydon of old
Affected by Diana. After these
To the Caretes, and Oeniades,
With promise, to the Greeks, 'gainst Italie,
To use his Arms, he went: then Ephyre,
Patræ, and Princely Pleuron he survay'd:
Two-crown'd Parnassus, and (by Phœbus made
To speak) Prophetick Rocks; and, though agen,
Often by War call'd homeward: sometimes when
Sarmatian Orestes did infest
His Kingdoms, or fierce Dolopes opprest
His Countrey, yet unwilling to forbear
His vain Designs, the shadow of a War
He carried up, and down, the Grecian Coast;
Till all his hopes, plac'd in the Libyans, lost
By Sea, and Land, a Suppliant, he sign'd
A League, with the Dardanians, nor declin'd
From them, in his own Kingdom, to receive
The Law: But then Tarentum's Fortune gave
To Italy encrease both of Renown,
And Riches. For, at length, that treach'rous Town,

432

Was by old Fabius conquer'd, and of all
His Titles, of a Wary General,
The last became. For then his Industry
Gain'd that safe Honour, that the City He
Had taken without Blood. And, when 'twas known,
That a Sidonian Captain, in the Town,
Burn'd with a Woman's Love: and that, through Ease,
A silent Treason thence might Valour please:
To his lov'd Sister, strait, her Brother (who
Then bore Rutulian Arms) is forc'd to go,
Instructed to subdue the Woman's Minde
With ample Promises, if She inclin'd
The Libyan to betray the Gates. And, thus
The Libyan overcome, old Fabius
His Wish enjoy'd, and, through th'unguarded Walls
By Night, into the Town the Army falls.

But who, that heard Marcellus then was slain
In Fight, would think, that Sol should joyn again
His flaming Steeds, so turn'd away from Rome.
That noble Person, that brave Breast, in whom
The God of War inhabited, who nev'r,
In its most horrid Shape, did Danger fear,
In Combat fell: in his renowned Fall,
(Alass) how great a Blow to Hannibal!
In him thy Terrour Carthage prostrate lay,
Who had perhaps from Scipio born away
(Had but the Gods been pleas'd awhile to spare
His Life) the Name of finishing the War.
Which seated, then, within the Daunian Land,
Between both Camps, a little Hill did stand.
Crispinus with Marcellus bore like Share
In Cares, and Honours, and the Common War
Pursu'd: to whom Marcellus thus began.

I have a Minde to view those Woods, and on

433

The Hill to lodg our Men; left first it be
Possess'd, in Ambush, by the Enemy.
I would Crispinus (if you please) that you
Would share in this Design; for seldom two
In Counsel fail. When this they had Decreed,
Each Man contends to mount his eager Steed.
Marcellus, when he saw his Son, among
The rest, put on his Arms, and in the Throng
Joyful, and Brisk: Thou dost appear more Great
(Said He) then Me, by thy admired Heat.
May this thy early Labour Happy be!
Such, as, at Syracusa once, I Thee
Beheld, before thine Age would Thee allow
As fit for War, engaging with a Brow,
Like mine. Oh! hither come (my Glory) stand
Close to thy Father's side, and by my Hand
Learn a new Way of Fighting. Then he lay'd
His Arms about his Neck, and briefly pray'd.
Grant, from the Libyan Gen'ral (Oh! thou King
Of Gods) that on these Shoulders I may bring
Opimous Spoils to Thee! As here he ends;
From the clear Sky a bloody Dew descends,
And Jove the Fatal Drops had sprinkled on
His (then successess) Arms. Scarce had he done
His Speech, when through the Straits, advancing up
The Fatal Mountain, strait a nimble Troop
Of Nomades upon them fly, and pour
Their Darts, as thick, as an Etherial Show'r:
While, from their secret Ambush, they supply'd
The Fight, with armed Troops. On ev'ry side,
When Valour found her self thus close beset;
And nothing, now, remaining, as a Debt
Unto the Gods: He onely sought to go,
With a great Name, unto the Shades below.

434

Then, at a distance, his contorted Spear
With all his Force he throws: now fights, more near
At Hand, with's Sword; and had escap'd, perchance,
That cruel Storm of Danger, if a Lance
Had not transfix'd the Body of his Son.
But then (alass!) the Father's Hands begun
To shake, and, weak through Sorrow, loosely bare
His hapless Arms, untill an obvious Spear
Pierc'd through his naked Breast; by which sad Wound
He falls, his Face imprinting on the Ground.
When Hannibal perceiv'd (amidst the Fight)
The Fatal Lance within his Bosom light,
Aloud he crys: now Carthage, cease to fear
The Romane Laws; the Name of Terrour here
Lyes prostrate, and the Column of their State.
But that brave Hand (so like mine own of late)
Shall not obscurely to the Shades be sent.
True Valour's void of Envy. Strait they went
About to build his Pyle, which to the Skies
By mighty Oaks, brought from the Woods, doth rise.
You might believe the Libyan General
Had dy'd! then Incense, Cates, his Shield, withall,
And Fasces (his last Pomp) are brought, and while,
With his own Hand, the Taper to the Pyle
The Prince applies; Eternal Praise (said He)
We have acquir'd. For of Marcellus We
Have Italy depriv'd. Perhaps they may
At length, now, lay down Arms. Go then, and pay
To that great Soul, and to his Dust, all Dues
Of Funeral. I never will refuse
Thee this (O Rome) that thou the Sepulcher
Of one, whose Valour made him Great, in War,
With Titles may'st adorn: and lasting Fame,
Among Rutulian Nephews, crown his Name.

435

Such is your other Consul's Fate, whose Steed
Him, breathless, to your Camp convey'd, with Speed.

Such, then, Affairs did in Ausonia stand.
But not the same, in the Iberian Land,
Was the Event of Arms. The quick Surprize,
And Conquest of New-Carthage, terrifies
The Nations round about. The Gen'rals there,
Unless they joyn with Social Aids, despair
Of Safety: since Young Scipio had fought
(As if He Thunder in his Arms had brought
From Italy) with so great Auspicies,
That he a fenced Town (whose Height their Eys
Could hardly reach, as on an Hill it stood)
Had taken in one Day, and fill'd with Blood.
While, ev'n their Warlike Hannibal, before
He overthrew Sagunthus, that for Store
Of People, and for Wealth might not appear
As Equal unto that, had spent a Year.

To his great Brother's Deeds aspiring still,
The next was Hasdrubal; who on a Hill
Encamp'd, encompass'd with a rocky Wood.
Here, his chief Strength, fierce Cantabrians stood;
Mix'd with rebellious Africans: and there,
Then the swift Moor more swift, Asturians were.
And with as much of Majesty did he
Iberia rule, as then in Italy
His Brother Hannibal with Terrour liv'd.

It chanc'd, a Tyrian Solemn Day reviv'd
Their antient Honour, and the Time, wherein
The Walls of Carthage they did first begin,
And a new City of small Houses rais'd.
His Nations Rise the General much pleas'd
Thus to commemorate, his Ensigns all
Adorn'd with Laurel, kept the Festival;

436

And th'Gods appeas'd. Loose from his Shoulders hung
His Brother's Gift (a Mantle) which, among
Some other Presents, as a Complement
Of their strict League, Trinacria's Prince had sent,
A stately Robe, among Æölian Kings.
An Eagle, through the Clouds, with golden Wings,
Snatch'd up (in Texture hov'ring) to the Sky
A Boy. A spacious Cave there was hard by,
Which, in the Purple, there, the Needle made,
The Cyclops House: here Polypheme was lay'd
Along, and swallow'd Bodies, dropping Gore,
Between his Deadly Jaws. About him store
Of broken Bones; which, chewing, forth he threw.
Then for his Drink, his Hand extended to
Läertes Son, he calls: and, belching up
Crude Blood, with Wine commix'd it in the Cup.
Conspicuous in this Robe, at Altars made
Of Grass, the Peace o'th'Gods the Tyrian pray'd.
When riding in, amidst them all, behold
A Scout, that Hostile Arms approach'd them, told.
The Worship of the Gods unfinished,
With troubled Minds, they from the Altars fled.
All Sacred Rites broke off, all Night they lay
Encamp'd. But, when the dewy Morn the Day
First rais'd, a furious Fight began, and there
Stout Sabbura first felt the thrilling Spear
Of Scipio. Both Armies seem'd to be
Mov'd with the Omen. The first Victim We
I'th'Field (Ye sacred Shades!) to you have slain,
(Exclaims the Romane Gen'ral) Now again
Into the Fight, and Slaughter (Souldiers) go,
As with best Captains you were wont to do.
This said; they all fall on: by Lena's Hand
Falls Myconus; Latinus, Cirta: and

437

Stout Maro Thysdrus kills: and Catiline
Incestuous Nëalces doth disjoyn
From his own Sister's Bed. Then Cartulo
(A Libyack Prince) is sent to Shades below,
By fierce Nasidius. Thee (likewise) Thee
Lælius (thou great Renown of Italy)
Things, scarce to be believ'd, performing there,
Amidst the Carthaginians, full of Fear,
Pyrene's Land beheld. Nature bestow'd
On him all Happy things, which were allow'd
By all the Gods. When he was heard to plead
At th'Bar, not Nestor could in Speech exceed:
Or when the Fathers, and the Court did stand
In Doubt, and his Opinion did demand,
He led the Senat's Hearts, as with a Charm.
But, when the Noise of Trumpets did Alarm
His Ears, within the Field, with such an Heat,
He rush'd into the Fight, and Armies, that
You'd think, he had been born for War alone;
And nothing, without Praise, by him was done.
From a stoln Life the Gala fighting threw:
Whom's Mother once, by changing him withdrew
From Byrsa's cruel Rites. But quickly all
Such Joys, as rise from Gods, so cheated fall.
Then Murus, Alebis, and Draces, who,
With an Effeminate Cry, for Life did sue,
By him were slain. Poor Draces, as he pray'd,
And beg'd; his Head cut off, the Murmurs stay'd
In his dissever'd Throat. But Hasdrubal
Had not the like desire to Fight. Not all
The extream Loss, and Slaughter of his Men
Him mov'd. But to the Woody Hills agen,
And lurking Holes of pathless Rocks, he flies,
And to the Alpes, and Italy his Eys

438

Are turn'd: the great Advantage of his Flight.
The Signal silently is giv'n, and Fight
Quite lay'd aside, they are Commanded through
The Woods, and Hills to fly dispers'd, and who
Soe're escap'd should to Pyrene's Top
Ascend, their Chief, and sole remaining Hope.
All Marks of Honour, as a General,
Then lai'd aside, disguised, with a small
Iberian Targe, first Hasdrubal ascends
The Hills, and, flying, quits his wandring Friends.
To the forsaken Camp the Romanes strait
Their Ensigns send. No City captivate
Could yield more Spoils; and did their Rage withdraw
From Slaughter, as the Libyan foresaw.
So in some Brook surpriz'd, when he despairs
Of Safety, from his Groin the Beaver tares
The parts, that caus'd his Danger, and away
Swims from his Fo. Intent upon his Prey
When thus the Libyan had with Speedy Flight,
Trusting to Rocky Woods, in Shades, like Night,
Himself conceal'd: strait back again they go
Unto a greater War, to meet a Fo
More sure to be subdu'd. But first upon
Pyrene's Hill, with this Inscription,
A Shield they fix, Scipio a Conquerour,
Hasdrubal's Spoils Unto The God Of War.

In the mean time, beyond the Hills (all Fear
Now lay'd aside) Bebrycian People were
By Hasdrubal soon arm'd: who Prodigal
To purchase Hands for Aid, and ready all
Prepar'd to thrust into the War, with Store
Of Gold, and Silver, thither sent before
And with long Labours gain'd, in Wealthy Lands
Had rais'd their Warlike Minds. Hence active Bands

439

Fill'd the new Camp. All Mercenary Souls:
Those, that where Rhodanus swift Billows rowls
Delight to dwell; with those, where Arar flows
Most softly through the Fields. And, now, the Snows
Of Winter all resolv'd, the Year retains
A milder Face. Then through the Celtick Plains,
Entring a speedy March, he goes: admires
The Conquer'd Alps, and pervious Heights: enquires
The very Foot-steps, where Alcides trod:
Compares with th'Adventures of the God
His Brother's Ways. When to the Top of all
He came, and in the Camp of Hannibal
Sate down: What higher Walls (said He) do Rome
Invest? which, after these once overcome
By my great Brother, stand yet safe? Oh, may
The Glory of so brave a Hand (I pray)
Prove Happy! nor, let it the Envy be
Of any angry Deity, that We
The Stars approach'd! Then, where a safe Descent
The Hill declining shew'd, strait down he went,
With hasty Arms. Through all, so great a Dread
Not the Beginnings of the War had spread.
Two Hannibals they now report: and two
Strong Camps, on either side: and glutted, through
Success, with Romane Blood, the Chiefs the War
Joyntly pursue. The Armies doubled are,
And to the Walls the Fo would quickly haste,
And, sticking on the Gates, they Jav'lins, cast
From Elysæan Hands, should shortly see.
Much vex'd at this, the Land of Italy
Thus with her self. Alass! ye Gods, must I
With so great Fury of the Libyans ly
Despis'd? who Saturn, when the pow'rful Hand
Of Jove he fear'd, conceal'd: and in my Land

440

An Empire gave! Now the tenth Summer's Corn
Appears, since thus I have been sadly torn.
And, now, a Youth, who wanteth nothing more,
But to invade the Gods, the farthest Shore
O'th'World hath left, and's Arms against me bends,
And, the high Alps prophan'd, with Rage descends
Into my Land. How many Corps have I
Of Slain entomb'd? Alass! how often by
My slaughter'd Sons deform'd? I have no Trees
With pregnant Buds: his Corn the Peasant sees,
Yet Green, cut down with Swords: the Tow'rs of all
My Villages into my Bosom fall,
And by their Ruins is my Land defac't.
Yet, now, must I endure this Youth at last,
By whom my wasted Coasts invaded are,
Who seeks the ruthful Reliques of the War
To burn. Then wandring Africans may rend
My Bowels with their Ploughs, and Moors commend
The Crops, which the Ausonian Furrows yield.
Unless their Troops, insulting through the Field,
I, in one Grave, interr. As, thus, She then
Her Woes revolv'd, and Night both Gods, and Men
Compos'd to Rest; to Nero's Camp She went.
He, with a Neighb'ring Trench, was then intent
The Libyan from Lucanian Coasts to keep.
The Youth, here, Latium's Image, in his Sleep,
Accosts. O Nero! Thou, who art become
(Marcellus lost) the greatest Hope of Rome!
The Clausi's Glory! shake off Sleep; by Thee
Something of Moment must attempted be,
(If thou wilt add unto thy Country's Fates)
Which ev'n the Conquerours (when from the Gates
The Foe's repuls'd) shall wonder to be done.
With shining Arms (behold!) Amilcar's Son,

441

Like a dire Deluge, overruns the Plains,
Where Sena still her Gallick Name retains:
Unless thy winged Troops Thou thither strait
Draw out to Fight, thine Aid will come too late
To ruin'd Rome hereafter. Rise; be gone:
I have condemn'd Metaurus Region,
And all those spacious Fields, to Libyan Bones,
And Graves. This said: She vanishing, at once
Appears to draw him after Her, and through
The broken Gates to drive his Troops into
The Field. With that he wakes, and Troubled stands
With an enflamed Heart, and then, with Hands
Listed to Heav'n, He prays the Earth, and Night,
The scatter'd Stars, and Moon, with silent Light
To be his Guides. Then, choosing proper Hands
For such a Work, through Larinatian Lands
(Coasting upon the Upper-Sea) and where,
Hardy in War, Marrucine People were,
And the strict Frentane, that his Faith maintains
In Social Arms: where the Prætutian Swains
(Pleas'd with their Labour) dress their Vines, he flyes,
Swift as a Bird; as Lightning from the Skies;
As Torrents with Hybernal Billows flow;
Or Arrows, from an Achemenian Bow.
Each Man himself exhorts. Go on, and haste;
For in thy Feet the doubtful Gods have plac'd
Rome's Safety: whether She shall stand, or fall.
Thus crying, on they go; the General
Best Exhortation, being Foremost, gives:
While ev'ry one, his Speed encreasing, strives,
By following, to equal him, and Day,
And Night, un-wearied, nimbly March away.

But the Report of those encreasing Ills,
O'th'adverse War, all Rome with Terrour fills.

442

That Nero hop'd too much, they now complain.
That by one Wound that Life, that did remain,
Might soon be lost. Nor Money, Arms, nor Men,
Nor Blood to lose, there now remain'd. And then,
Who had not strength to deal with Hannibal,
Alone, in Fight, should fall on Hasdrubal.
That now again (soon as the Libyan saw
His Arms diverted from the Camp) he'd draw
His Forces to their Gates. That he was come,
Who, in the Glory of destroying Rome,
Would strive with his Proud Brother. With one mind
Thus frets the Senate; yet in Counsel joyn'd,
To keep their Honour, and themselves to Free
From threatned Chains, and angry Gods to flee.
Amidst these Sighs, Nero, protected by
An obscure Night, unto the Camp drew nigh;
Where, near to Hasdrubal, within the Field,
Old Livy lay. He Warlike once, and skill'd
In Feats of Arms, flourish'd in former Times,
Famous in War; but, falsly charg'd with Crimes
By the Unequal Tribes, in Discontent,
His Days obscurely in the Countrey spent.
But, when a sadder Weight, and Fears began,
Through nearer Dangers, to require the Man,
After so many Valiant Captains slain;
Then, to his Countrey call'd, to Arms again
His aged Valour He had vow'd. But all
These Plots of new Supplies to Hasdrubal
Were known, and what the Wings of Night conceal'd
The Signs of Dust upon their Shields reveal'd.
Besides their hasty Running to, and fro:
Their Horse, and Men prepar'd, and Trumpets show
(As they the Signal sound) the Camp to be
Commanded by two Gen'rals. But (said He)

443

If yet my Brother live, how can they now
Their Social Forces joyn? Yet, till I know
The Truth, it onely now remains, that I
The Time protract, and Chance of Fighting fly.
Nor, with base Fear, this poor resolve of Flight
Did he delay. But, when from Cares the Night
(Mother of Rest) had freed the Breasts of Men,
And Darkness dreadful Silence nourish'd, then
Forth from his Camp he breaks, and his mute Bands
To follow with a silent March commands;
Who, through the quiet Plain, protected by
The gloomy Night, all Noise avoiding, fly.
But shaken, by a Motion so great,
Th'Italian Land, perceiving their Deceit,
Involves them in dark Errours in the Place,
And (Night conspiring) in a narrow Space
Still leads them round. For, where, with winding Waves
His crooked Banks the Flood obliquely laves;
And, through rough Creeks returning, falls again
Into it self, there toiling, all in vain
With fruitless Wandrings, a small Circuit they
Had made, and, in the Errours of their Way,
(The Benefit of Night now lost) the Light
Comes on, and to their Foes detects their Flight.
With that a furious Storm of Horse, the Gates
Thrown open, and a Show'r of Steel dilates
It self, or'e all the Field. Arms, yet, they none,
Nor Hands had mix'd: But Shafts, at distance thrown,
Drink Blood. To stop the flying Libyans, here
Dictæan Arrows fly: and Lances there,
Like a black Tempest, and on whom they light
They Death inflict. And, now all thoughts of Flight
Quite lai'd aside, about they, frighted, Face,
And close drawn-up, their Hopes in Fightingplace.

444

Amidst them all, the Gen'ral, mounted High
(For now He saw their sad Extremity)
On a tall Steed, his Hands, and Voice extends:
By all those Trophies gain'd by You (my Friends)
Under the farthest Pole; my Brother's Praise:
Make it appear, I You beseech (He says):
The Brother of Great Hannibal is come;
For Fortune labours, now, to give to Rome
Sad Documents, and shew how strong an Hand
You, that have conquer'd the Iberian Land,
And at Alcides Pillars us'd to War,
On the Rutulians turn. Perhaps, not far
From hence, my Brother to this Battel may
Arrive. Oh! hasten worthy him (I pray)
A Spectacle; with Bodies fill the Plain.
Each General is by my Brother slain,
That might be fear'd, in War: and now their sole
Remaining Hope, drawn from his skulking Hole.
Decrepit Livy (a condemned Head)
Is offer'd to you. Oh! go on, strike Dead
That General, cut off his Feeble Age,
'Gainst whom 'twere Shame my Brother should engage.
But Nero contrary exhorts: Why are
You slow, the Labours of this mighty War
To end? Your Feet already Praise have gain'd,
Now crown these high Beginnings with the Hand:
The Camp you, rashly (all the Bars o'rethrown)
Have left, except you perfect what is done
By Victory. Your Glory hasten: show
That your Arrival overthrew the Fo.

But Livy, in another Quarter, where,
His Helmet taken off, his hoary Hair
Was seen to all, cries; Come (my Lads) and Me
Observe in Fight, and wheresoe're you see

445

My Sword shall make your Way, there enter; so
The Alps (too open to the wastful Fo)
Shut with your Swords, at length. Unless we quite
Destroy this Army, by a sudden Flight,
That Thunder-bolt of Carthage (Hannibal)
Will soon be here. Then who is He of all
The Gods, that Us from Stygian Shades can free?
Then he resumes his Cask, and instantly
His Sword confirms his Words, and ('s Age from sight
Again conceal'd) He enters first the Fight.
Him through the thickest Bodies of the Field,
Breaking through closest Ranks: who, furious, kill'd
As many, as he Shafts discharg'd; with Dread
The Macæ, and fierce Autololians fled:
With Bands of Rhodanus, their Hair unshorn.
'Mong the Prophetick Sands of Hammon born,
Secure of Fate, there Nabis fiercely fought,
And mighty Trophies (as if then he thought
The Gods protected him) to fix at Home,
Had vainly promis'd. From the Tyrian Loom,
Flaming with Garamantick Gems a Vest
He wears (so shine the Stars in Heav'n) his Crest
With Gems, with radiant Gold his Shield enchac't;
On's horned Cask the hanging Fillets cast
A sacred Dread, and Honour of the Gods:
A Bowe, and Quiver, which with Shafts he loads
In Cerasts steep'd, hang at his Back; and, so
With Poison Arm'd, to Battle doth he go
Then leaning, backward, on his Horse (as he
His Country's Custom us'd) upon his Knee
Resting the Weight of his Sarmatick Spear,
It, prone, upon his Foes he thrusts, and there
With that vast weapon, through his Arms, and through
His Body, wounded, in the Consul's view,

446

Sabellus, with loud Shouts, he bears along
In Triumph, praising Hammon in his Song.
But the old Consul, who so great a Pride,
And Rage, in Barb'rous Breasts could not abide,
A Weapon lanc'd, and both his Life, and Prey
A Conqu'rour, from the Conqu'rour took away.
Hearing the Cries of his sad Fall, amain
The Libyan Prince came on, and from the Plain
As Arabus was then about to take
His Spoils, made Stiff with Gold, and Gems, at's Back
A Weapon aim'd, and through the Chine him strook,
Just as, in both his Hands, in Haste he took
His Prize, and left his trembling Body bare.
He fell, and all the Sacred Garments, there,
And golden Threads restor'd (unhappy) to
The Dead, and dy'd upon his spoiled Fo.

But Canthus, Owner of much Libyan Sand,
Where their Unconquer'd Name unto the Land
The fam'd Philêni gave, Wealthy in Sheep,
Kill'd Rutulus, where lofty Folds did keep
A thousand bleating Lambs, spending his Days
In easy Care. Sometimes the Sun's hot Rays,
He from his Flocks would break, in some cool Flood:
Sometimes retiring to a shady Wood,
Shining, as white as Snow, their Fleeces shear'd.
Or when, at Night, they Home again repair'd
From Pasture, was much pleas'd to see the Lambs,
Within the Flood, distinguishing their Dams.
Deceiv'd He fell, through his brass Target strook,
And griev'd too late, that he his Folds forsook.
At this the Romanes forward press'd, and came
More Furious on. Like Torrents, Storm, or Flame
Of Thunder: swift as Waves from Boreas fly,
Or hollow Clouds run on, when to the Sky

447

Eurus throws up the Ocean's briny Flood.
Tall Cohorts, with their Celtick Ensigns, stood
I'th' Van; which, with their wedg-like Files, their fierce
Impulse, and sudden Force they soon disperse:
And tyr'd with Wandring, and the scorching Sun,
And tedious Labours they had undergon,
A native Terrour makes them all to fly.
The Romanes, at their Backs, their Weapons ply,
And with their following Shafts so instant are,
That they no Flight allow. Strait, Tyrus there
Fell with one Wound. By more fell Rhodanus,
With Arrows pierc'd. A Lance thrust Morius
Down to the Earth. Whom Livy, that full speed
Came on, as he was falling, strook, and's Steed
Into the Troops, as they were flying, spur'd.
There Mosa's swelling Neck he with his Sword
Cut off: his Head, within his Helmet bound,
Falling so high, shook with its Weight the Ground;
While the yet-setting Trunk his Steed convey'd,
Frighted, into the Fight. Here Cato said
(For he among the thickest fought) If He
Had first the Tyrian Youth oppos'd, when We
In Battel lost the Alps, alass! how great
An Hand from Italy had found Retreat?
How many Funerals to Libyans, slain,
Might the sad Suffrage of that Fatal Plain
Have giv'n? But, now, the Armies 'gan to yield.
An universal Terrour, through the Field,
The Celtæ's Fear had spread. The Tyrian Side
Declines, and Victory her selfe apply'd
To the Rutulian Arms. The Consul high
As in his prime of Years, Triumphantly
Went on, and still more great appear'd to all.
But now, behold, the Libyan General

448

Comes on, and with him brings a Troop, all White
With Dust: and, lancing Darts, exclaims; Your Flight
Forbear; who is this Fo, from whom you fly?
Do you not blush? Our Troops are routed by
An old Man's Feeble Arms. Am I (I pray)
Now grown Degenerate in War? or say
Are Ye grown Weary of Me? Me? who am
Of Belus Race, ally'd to Dido's Name.
Amilcar was my Sire, in War to all
To be preferr'd; my Brother Hannibal,
To whom the Hills, Lakes, Plains, and Rivers yield.
I am the next to Him, at Carthage, held.
Me Bætis in her Coasts, and Nations, where
My Arms have been, do, ev'n with Him, compare.
As this he spake, He rush'd into the Fight,
And soon, as with his shining Arms in Sight
The Consul came, too hastily, at Him
A Jav'lin threw; which, passing through the Brim
Of's brasen Shield, and, at the Top of all
His Breast-plate entring, lightly, in its Fall,
His Shoulder wounded, drawing little Blood;
Although the Libyan thought, it would make good
His vain Conceits. The Romanes were dismai'd
At this. When thus the Consul, to upbraid
His weak Attempt (You might believe that in
Some Womens Broils, or Boys, he scratch'd had been)
Cries; Go, my Lads, and let them understand,
How great the Wounds are, that a Romane Hand
Inflicts. Then suddenly a mighty Show'r
Of Darts, whose Shadow hides the Sun, they pour
Upon the Fo, and all the spacious Plain
Alternate Slaughter strews with Bodies slain:
Whose Heaps encreasing, in the River, joyn'd
The Banks. So, when Diana hath a Minde

449

To hunt in shady Groves, and Sport to shew
To her pleas'd Mother, and the Woody Brow
Of lofty Pindus shakes, or takes a View
Of Mænalus, with Arrows charg'd, a Crew
Of Nymphs about her flock, and strait surround
The Pathless Cop'ces. There the Quivers sound,
And loosely hanging, all the Shafts drawn out,
Leap at their Backs; while still they beat about
The Fields. Then on the Rocks, in Coverts, in
The Vallies, Rivers, and the Dens, (still Green
With Moss) the Slaughter'd Beasts in Plenty ly.
Then on some Mountain, with a joyful Eye,
The Prey collected, pleas'd, Latona views.
But furious Nero, when he heard the News
Of Livy's Wound, breaks through the thickest, and
Perceiving, that the Fight did Equal stand.
What now unto the Fates of Italy
Is left? (said He) If you this Enemy
Do not or'ecome; how will you Hannibal
Subdue? With that, as Mad, amidst them all
He rush'd: and, when he Hasdrubal beheld
Among the foremost Troops, with Fury swell'd.
Like a Sea-Monster, that hath long been tost
In the vast Deep, quite void of all repast,
When 'mong the Waves a Fish, far off, She spies;
She boils within, and then, with eager Eys,
Pursuing in the Flood her swimming Prey,
Swallows, with Fishes mix'd, the Briny Sea.
Now no delay of Darts, or Words. Thou Me
No more shalt 'scape; Pyrene's Woods (said He)
Shall not deceive Me here; nor yet, with vain,
And faithless Promises, shalt thou again
Delude; as, captiv'd in th'Iberian Land,
With a false League, thou once didst fly my Hand.

450

Thus Nero: and withall he threw a Dart,
And not in Vain. For in the lower Part
Of's Side it stuck. With that, on him he leaps
With's Sword: and, as with's Target-Point he keeps
His trembling Body down, If now (said He)
At the last Gasp, Thou dost desire it, We
Unto thy Brother thy Commands will bear.
To whom the Libyan replies; I fear
Not Death: make use of this thy Victory;
Till to my Shade a swift Revenger He
Arrive. But, if unto my Brother Thou
Wilt bear my last Desires, then say; that now
I bid him burn the Capitol, and there
Mix, with the Ashes of the Thunderer,
My Bones, and Dust. As more he did desire
To add, his Heart still boiling-up with Ire,
The Conqu'rour pierc'd him with his Sword, and then
Cut off his Faithless Head. With that, his Men
(Their Gen'ral slain) are routed, and the Fight
No more pursue: and now, at length, the Night
The Sun, and Day obscures: when they repair
With mod'rate Food, and Sleep, their Strength, and bare
(The Way they came) their Conqu'ring Ensigns, er'e
The Day return'd back to the Camp, for Fear
Shut up. Then Nero (as He did advance
The Libyan's Head, aloft, upon his Lance)
Said; Cannæ, Trebia, Thrasimenus We
With this thy Brother's Head have now to Thee
Repay'd (O Hannibal.) Thy Treach'rous War
Ingeminate, and hither call from far
Thy doubled Troops. Such their Reward shall be,
Who (the Alps cross'd) desire to joyn with Thee.
But Hannibal, who did his Tears suppress,
By Constant bearing, made his Sorrows less:

451

And vows, in time, fit Sacrifice to pay
Unto his Brother's Shade. Then, far away,
His Camp removes: and so, dissembling right,
His Griefs by Quiet, shuns a Dubious Fight.

The End of the Fifteenth Book.

453

The Sixteenth Book.

The Argument.

The Libyan Army to the Brutian Land
Retires. What full Obedience the Command
Of Hannibal obtain'd. Two Generals
In Spain or'ethrown: a Third, a Captive falls
Into brave Scipio's Hands. Prodigious Flames
Crown Massanissa's Head; who strait disclaims
The Libyan Side, and with the Romane joyns.
Both Hasdrubal, and Scipio their Designs,
In Syphax Court, pursue. The League again
Confirm'd with Syphax; Scipio goes for Spain:
Where, all subdud, with great Solemnities
His Father's, and his Uncle's Obsequies
He celebrates. Contending for Command,
Two Brothers give a Combat Hand to Hand,
And both are slain. To Rome the Consul goes,
Where his Designs old Fabius doth oppose.
But, by the Senate his Desire approv'd,
The War is, into Libya, remov'd.

But Hannibal, who for his Country grieves,
And's own Mishaps, the Brutian Land receives.
Where, he, entrench'd, the Time considers, when
The War, suspended, he might raise agen.

454

As, when a Bull the Stalls forsakes, and quits
His Empire of the Heard, and Straying gets
Into some Wood enclos'd; on wandring Fights
He ruminates, and, fiercely Bellowing, frights
The Groves: then or'e the lofty Rocks he goes;
Tears them up with his Horns, and Trees or'ethrows.
While Trembling Shepheards on high Hills, from far,
Behold him thus preparing a new War.
But, now, that Vigour (which had quite destroy'd
Ausonia, had He other Helps employ'd)
Through a base Envy (lab'ring to retract
Their Mindes at Carthage) was constrain'd to Act
Without their Aid; and, through the length of Time,
In his Affairs to wax more Dull. Yet him
The Fear, and Terrour, by his valiant Hand,
And by so many former Slaughters, gain'd,
As an Inviolable, Sacred Head
In Battel, still preserv'd. So that, instead
Of all their Arms; their Aids of Camps, and all
Their fresh Recruits, the Name of Hannibal
Alone suffic'd. So many Troops, that there
Differ'd in Speech; So many Hearts, that were
Divided in their Barb'rous Customs; all
Stood firm, a Reverence of their General:
Kept their Mindes Faithful, when Affairs declin'd.
But the Dardanian Arms not onely finde
Success in Italy, but Phœnix yields
Iberia, beaten from those Golden Fields.
And Mago, having lost his Camp, in haste,
Urg'd by his Fears, by Sea to Libya past.
But Fortune, not Content with what before
For Scipio She had done, reserv'd in Store,
Another Honour. Hanno then amain
Advanc'd, and leading on a Barb'rous Train,

455

With rattling Shields, the Native Spaniards brought
Too late. Yet (had he not with Scipio fought)
Nor Valour, Art, nor Policy, in War
Was wanting in Him. But all Force so far,
With greater Weight, the Romane General
Depress'd, as Phœbe's Light surpasseth all
The lesser Stars; as Sol doth Her excell;
As Atlas other Hills; as Nile doth swell
'Bove other Rivers; or the Ocean
The Narrow-Seas exceeds. While he began
T'encamp, as Ev'ning with Un-equal Shades
Olympus veil'd, the Romane him invades;
And, in the sudden Tumult, ev'ry where
Th'imperfect Works are overthrown, and there
The weighty Turf, and Earth, oppressing those,
That fell, the Honour of a Grave bestows.

But with a Courage, that might worthy be
Of more then One, and which Posterity
Deserves to know, and to commend to Fame
Is worth our Pains, Cantabrian Larus came.
Who, for his Minde, and Bodie's Bulk, might be
A Terrour, though Unarm'd. Most fiercely He
(After his Country's Custom) his right-Hand,
Arm'd with an Ax, the Combat still maintain'd:
And (though the routed Bands about him, round,
And his one Country Troop destroy'd he found)
The Place of those were slain supply'd Alone;
And, if he fought at hand, would oft upon
The Forehead wound his Fo. And, when aside
They him assail'd, with oblique Blows employ'd
His Ax reflex'd; If he assaulted were
Behinde, a furious Conqu'rour, free from Fear,
His Fatal Weapon, he could Backward throw:
In ev'ry part o'th' Fight, a dreadful Fo.

456

At him with mighty Force (the Brother to
The General) his Lance Young Scipio threw;
Which, with his Cap of Fence, his flowing Hair
Cast down: For, driven strong, the Fatal Spear
Sunk deep, and far the lifted Ax was thrown.
At which the Youth, whose Anger now was grow'n
A mighty Weapon, leaping on him, gives
A Shout, and Home the Barb'rous Weapon drives.
The Armies trembled, while his batter'd Shield
Sounds, with that Warlike weight, through all the Field.
Nor was't in vain: For with his Sword, as from
His Stroak the Spaniard drew his Right-hand Home,
Cut off, and Dead, with its lov'd Weapon, down
It fell. Which Wall, when it was overthrown,
The Trembling Troops an Universal Flight
Scatters, through all the Plain. No shew of Fight;
But the sad Face of Punishment of those,
That fell, on ev'ry side, by Conqu'ring Foes.

But now, behold! the Libyan Prince, his Hands
Behinde him bound, through midst of all the Bands
Is dragg'd along, and begg'd (Oh flatt'ring Light
Of Heav'n!) that Captivate in Chains he might
Have longer Life. To whom the Romane thus.
See these are they, who once requir'd or'e Us
So great a Pow'r; to whom thy Sacred Race
Must yield (Quirinus) and the Gown give Place!
But, to submit to Bondage if you are
So Easy, why did you begin the War?
As this he spake, an Horsman Tidings brought,
That Hasdrubal, not knowing they had fought,
Came on with Speed, to joyn his Arms, and Fate,
Scipio snatch'd up his ready Ensigns strait,
And when, or'ejoy'd, he saw the Fight (so much
Desir'd) approach, and Troops to Death with such

457

A furious Speed advancing, to the Sky
Lifting his Eyes; No more (Ye, Gods!) do I
Of you this Day require, since now I see
This Fugitive is drawn to Fight (said He)
Our other Wishes by our Valour may
Be gain'd. Then haste (Companions go,) I pray,
Behold my Father here, my Uncle there
With Rage, upon you call. Oh you, that are
My Deities in War, our Leaders be.
I'le follow you: Assist! and you shall see
(If my presaging Minde deceive me not)
A Slaughter worthy of your Name. For what
Shall else give Period to our Fighting here,
In the Iberian Land? When shall appear
That glorious Day, when at the fierce Alarms
Of the approaching War, and these mine Arms
I (Carthage) thee shall trembling see? This said
Hoarse Trumpets, with shrill Murmurs; strait invade
The Stars, with Eccho. With fierce Clamours then
They meet, with such a Violence, as when
Notus, and Boreas, or fell Auster raves
By Sea, and drown whole Fleets in swelling Waves.
Or when his deadly Flames the Dog expires,
And burns the fainting World with wasting Fires.
Such Slaughters their fierce Fury by the Sword
Commits, the gaping Earth could not afford
A Space, the Ruins of the Fight to hide.
No Rage of Salvage Beasts had er'e destroy'd
So many in their Fatal Dens. And, now,
With Blood the Fields, and Vallies overflow;
Their Weapons all are dull'd: The Libyans are
Cut off, and the Iberi, that in War
Delight. And yet, though shatter'd much, a Band
There was, that struggled still, and kept their Stand,

458

Where Hasdrubal did with his Spear contend.
Nor had their constant Valour made an End
That Day; but that an Arrow chanc'd to fall
Upon his Breast-plate's top. The Wound, though small
Perswaded him to fly. Then strait he quits
The Fight, and on his nimble Courser gets
To Shelter, and along the Shore, by Night,
To the Tartessîack Ports directs his Flight.
The next to him in Arms, and Valour, there,
To th'Fight (He the Massylian Scepter bare,
For's League, and Friendship to the Romane Name,
Soon after famous) Masanissa came.
Upon his radiant Head, as, tyr'd with Flight,
By Night he slept, a sudden, shining Light
Appear'd to compass, with a gentle Flame,
His curled Hair, and to diffuse the same
Upon his rugged Brow. His Servants strait
Run in, and haste the Fire (that did dilate
It self about his Breast) with Water to
Suppress. But his old Mother, who foreknew
The Omens of the Gods, Your Wonders (cries)
Thus, thus still hide, propitious Deities!
Long may that Light abide upon his Head!
Neither do Thou, my Masanissa! dread
Those happy Wonders of the Gods: nor fear,
When 'bout thy Temples Sacred Flames appear;
This Fire a League with the Dardanian Race,
And Empire, greater then thy Father's was,
Doth promise, and, at length, shall give to Thee;
And with the Latine Fates thy Name shall be
Involv'd. Thus spake the Prophetess. The Minde
O'th' Youth, to these clear Prodigies inclin'd,
Ner'e thought on Honours from the Libyan Side,
For his great Valour. And, besides the Pride,

459

Of Hannibal in Arms, now, less became,
And, ev'ry Day, the War decreas'd in Fame.

From the dark Heav'ns the Morn began to chace
The Clouds, and scarce had Crimson-dy'd the Face
Of the Atlantick Sisters: when he goes
To the Ausonian Camp (as yet his Foes.)
Where when he enter'd, and kinde Entertain
Receiv'd from Scipio; thus the King began.
Th'advice of Heav'n, my Mother's Prophecies,
And thy great Valour, to the Deities
So dear, (Brave Romane) me have hither brought
(Most willingly) from those, for whom I fought.
If 'gainst thy Thunder I've appear'd to stand
With Courage, here I offer Thee an Hand,
Worthy thy Name, thou Son of Jove! nor Me
Do wav'ring Thoughts, or vain Inconstancy
Of Minde, to this invite. I Treachery,
And, perjur'd from their Birth, a People fly.
And, when Thou at Alcides Bars hast made
An End, the Mother of the War invade
With Me. For Him, who Italy ten Years
Hath now possess'd, and Scaling-Ladders bears
Against the Walls of Rome, You back must bring
With Fire, and Sword, to Libya. Thus the King.

To whom (their Right-Hands joyn'd) If glorious We
(The General replies) in Arms to Thee
Appear; more glorious much We Romanes are
For keeping Faith. Then (Masanissa) far
Thy double-Tongu'd Associates from thy Minde
Remove. Thy famous Valour, hence, shall finde
A great Reward: and sooner Me subdu'd
By Arms, then overcome in Gratitude,
Thou shalt confess. But that, which you perswade,
That We should Libya with Fire invade,

460

Time shall effect. My Thoughts are oft inclin'd
To that, and Carthage fatigates my Minde.
Then to the Youth a rich embroider'd Cloak,
And Horse, which he from conquer'd Mago took,
And had himself his Mettle try'd, withall
A Cask, and Golden Cup, which Hasdrubal
Us'd to the Altars of the Gods to bring
With Sacrifice, He gives. Then, with the King
A Social League confirm'd, He strait employ'd
His Thoughts, that Byrsa's Tow'rs might be destroy'd.

The richest King in the Massylian Land,
And Valiant held, was Syphax: whose command
Un-number'd Nations, and the farthest Seas,
Obey'd. His Territories vast; in these
He Store of Horse, and Monstrous Beasts, that are
In Fight a Terrour, and choice Youth for War,
Possess'd. None Him surpass'd in Ivory,
Or Gold, or Garments of Getulian Dy.
Desirous, therefore, to his Side to bring
This Strength (the Danger weighing, should that King
To Carthage turn) He puts to Sea, and in
His Thoughts, already, doth that War begin.
But when, at length, his Ship arriv'd before
The Port; fled thither, by the nearest Shore,
In a weak Bark, was Hasdrubal, who sought
New Leagues, for his distress'd Affairs, and brought
Massylian Ensigns to the Tyrian Side.
But, when to Syphax it was signifi'd,
That the two Generals of two Nations (who
With all their Might contended to subdue,
Each, to their Laws, the World) into his Land
Were come: big in his Thoughts, he gives Command,
They should be strait conducted to his Court;
Proud, that his Throne was Honour'd with Resort

461

So great. Then, as, with joyful Eys, he ran
Or'e Scipio's Face, to him he first began.
Brave Dardan, fam'd for thy clear Soul! how Thee
I, willingly, Embrace! how gladly see!
How much I'me pleas'd old Scipio's Face to Minde
To call! thy Father in thy Looks I finde.
I speak of the Herculean Gades now;
When, Curious to observe the Ocean's flow,
And Ebb, to th'Erythræan Coast I came.
With Kindeness strange, at Bætis neighb'ring Stream,
Those two great Captains came to see Me; where
They Presents of their Spoils (the Best that were)
On Me bestow'd: as Arms, and (which within
My Kingdom, untill then, unknown had been)
Bridles for Horse, and Bows, with which we may
Our Country's Darts compare. Besides these, they
Masters of antient Discipline, that might
In Order form our scatter'd Bands, in Fight,
(After your Country's Manner) to me gave.
I Gold, and Ivory (of which We have
Great Plenty in our Land) on them again
Would have bestow'd. But all my Pray'rs were Vain:
Onely two Swords, which carved Ivory
Ensheath'd, they took. Now therefore chearfully
My Palace enter; and since, hither now
The Libyan General my Fortune, through
The Seas, hath brought, consider what I say
With Candid Thoughts: and Thou (whom all obey
At Carthage) Hasdrubal thine Ears to me,
And Senses turn. What Storms, through Italy,
Of Arms, like Torrents, run, and spread the Fears
Of Ruin through the Land? And how ten years,
Sometimes Sicanian Earth, sometimes thy Shore
(Iberus) hath been drunk with Tyrian Gore;

462

To all is known: Now, therefore, let the War
Be lay'd aside, and joyntly Arms forbare;
Be Thou content with Italy, and Thou
In Libya to contain thy Self. And now,
If to a League of Amity you please
To turn, no mean Procurer of your Peace
Will Syphax be. As more he would have said,
Scipio, not suff'ring Him, before him lay'd
The Customs of his Country, and the Will
O'th' Senate: shew'd him, that the Fathers still
Determin'd such Affairs: wish'd him to lay
All Hopes of that Design aside. Thus they,
In arguing, the Day remaining spent,
And then unto their Cups, and Viands, went.
The Banquet ended, ev'ry Man repairs
To Rest, and the hard Fetters of his Cares
Throws off to Night. But, when the Morn gave Birth
To a new-Day, by her first Beams on Earth,
And Sol His Horses from their Stable drew
Unto their Yoak; Himself, not mounted to
His Seat, but onely, with his early Rays,
Then breaking forth, enchac'd th'Eöan Seas:
Scipio leaps from his Bed, and, with a fair
Aspect, to Syphax Lodgings doth repair.
He (as the Custom of his Country) bred
Young Lions up; which lost, so Tamely fed,
Their Native Rage, and, at that very Time
Their Yellow-Necks, and Mains, while they with Him
Were Wanton, strok'd, and handled, without Fear,
Their dreadful Jaws. But, when he came to hear,
That Scipio was at Hand, he strait puts on
His Robe: and Royal Ensigns of his Throne,
In his Left Hand, assumes. White Fillets ty'd
About his Temples, and to his left Side

463

A Sword (as was their Custom) girt: He strait
Invites him in; where privately they sate,
The Scepter'd King, and the Ausonian Guest,
In equal State, when Scipio thus exprest
His Minde. It was my First, and Chiefest Care,
So soon as the Pyrenean Nations were
Subdu'd by Me, into thy Land to haste
(Most mighty Syphax) nor (which I have past)
Could me the cruel Seas, between, retard.
Now, what I shall demand is neither Hard,
Nor yet Dishonourable to thy Throne:
With the Ausonians let thy Heart be one;
A firm Ally to their Successes be:
Not the Massylian Nations can Thee,
Nor Territories stretch'd to Dang'rous Sands,
Nor Pow'r of thy great Ancestours in Lands
Of vast Extent, more Glory yield, then will
The Romane Valour, still Invincible
In Faith, and Honour of the Latine Name.
For (not to mention more) none, that can claim
Equality with the Immortal Gods,
Over the Dardan Arms can compass Odds.

The King this hearing, with a chearful Face,
Seems to assent, and, with a strict Embrace,
Let Us confirm this happy Omen (cries)
And our joynt Vows propitious Deities
Assist! Both Horned, and Tarpeian Jove,
Let us invoke. With that, they forward move
To Sacred Altars, built of Turfs of Grass,
Where ready for the Ax the Victim was.
When suddenly the Bull the Altar flies,
Leaps from the broken Cords, and with loud Cries
Fills the whole Temple, and, his dismal Note
Ingeminating (from his bellowing Throat)

464

Through all the trembling Palace Terrour spreads.
Then strait the Fillet, that adorn'd the Heads
Of his great Ancestours, without the Touch
Of any, falls from the King's Temples. Such
Sad Signs by Heav'n of his declining State
Were giv'n, and heavy Omens of his Fate.

This done: returning to the Port again,
Scipio, with prosp'rous Gales, arrives in Spain.
The greedy Nations met. Pyrene sent
Her sev'ral People: all in Complement
Salute, and call him King, which the Supreme
Honour of Virtue was, in their Esteem.
But with a milde Aspect their Offers were
By Him rejected, and He did declare
His Country's Customs, and (which well-became
A Noble Romane) that the very Name
Of Kings was Odious at Rome. Again
Turn'd to that onely Care, that did remain
(No Enemy now left) the Latine Bands,
With those, which Bætis, and which Tagus Sands
Enrich, he convocates, and to them thus,
Midst the Assemblies, speaks. Since Heav'n hath Us
So bless'd, that, from the farthest Part of all
The World thrown out, the Libyan should fall;
Or in these Plains; or, from th'Hesperian Lands
Exil'd, should fly to see his Native Sands.
I now the Fun'rals of my Friends desire
To celebrate, and Peace, which they require,
To dearest Shades to give. Consent (I pray)
With Me in this, and list to what I say.
When the seventh Sun again the Skies shall gild,
Whoer'e in Arms, or in the Sword is skill'd;
Or can with Art the Chariot drive; or by
Swiftness of Foot hopes Conquest; or lets fly

465

Darts, that impell the Windes: let such appear,
And for the Crown contend with Honour here.
I Rewards worthy, of the choice of all
The Tyrian Spoils, will give. No Person shall
Depart without Reward. Thus with Desires
Of Gifts, and Praises, he the Vulgar fires.
And now the Day arriv'd, when all the Plain
With the vast Concourse sounds, and with a Train
Well order'd, the pretended Obsequies
Scipio, with Tears Obortive in his Eyes,
Leads on. All Soldiers of the Latine Name,
And all th'Iberian, with their Off'rings came,
And threw them on the flaming Pyles: while He
Goblets of Sacred Milk, and Bowls, that be
With blushing Bacchus fill'd, devoutly pours,
And strews the Altars or'e with flagrant Flow'rs.
Then the excited Shades he invocates
With Tears, their Praises sings, and venerates
Their glorious Acts. This done: from thence he goes
Into the Cirque, where first he doth propose
The rapid Race of Steeds, and doth Commence
The Sport. The wav'ring People in the Sense,
And Rage of Fav'ring Sides (the Bars not yet
Thrown open) Fluctuate to and fro, and fret,
Like murm'ring Seas, and still their Eyes confine
T'observe the Horses stand. Soon as the Sign
Was giv'n, the Bars resound, and to the Skies
(Scarce the first Hoof appearing) Clamours rise,
With dreadful Noise: while prone, and eager all
As those that run, they to the Chariots bawl,
And Steeds. The Cirque with their Contention shakes,
And Heat in some, from others Courage takes.
Exhorting they drive on, and, clam'ring loud,
Their Horses guide, and then a Yellow Cloud

466

Mounts, from the sandy Tract, into the Air,
Obscuring, with its Darkness, ev'ry where
The Horses Way, and Drivers Pains. Here one
Rails at his Head-strong Steed: and this upon
The Master. Some the Country's Favour; some
The antient Stable's Name, from whence they come,
Inflames; and some with Hopes tormented are
Of the Young Steeds, that Harness newly bear.
Some with old Age are pleas'd, and praise the Steed,
Known for long Years. Starting, with rapid Speed,
Callâick Lampon, through the Air, before
The rest, flies out, and runs, insulting or'e,
Much Ground, and leaves the Windes behinde. They Shout,
And with Applause grow hot; nor seem to doubt,
That, with the Start, h'ad gain'd the better part
Of his Desires. But such, as in the Art,
And Knowledg of the Race more Skillful were,
Against their Clamour, at the first, declare,
And at great Distance blam'd, with vain Complaint,
His ill-spent Pains, which made his Horses faint.
Oh! whither, rashly, Cyrnus (for 'twas He
That drove the Chariot) whither dost thou flee?
Forbear the Whip, take up the Reins, alass!
His Ears are Deaf, and He doth forward pass,
Still of his Steeds secure; nor thinks upon
The space of Ground, that yet remain'd to run.

At Distance from the foremost, but the space
Of's Chariot length, the next Panchates was.
Asturian born; his Sire's White Ensign bright
Upon his Forehead shin'd, his Feet all White
Alike, his Mettle very great, not Tall
His Members, and his Bodie's Grace but small:
But then He Wings assum'd, and, with Disdain
Of Reins, runs on, with Fury, through the Plain.

467

You'd think his Limbs grew Greater, he more High.
His Spanish Guide shin'd in Cinyphian Dye.

The third, that equal with Pelorus run
Afront, was Caucasus; most fierce, and One,
That scorn'd on's flatter'd Neck the Hand's applause:
But, foaming, lov'd to champ with Bloody Jaws
Upon the Bit. But, easier to obey
The Reins, Pelorus never from the Way
The running Chariot, deviating, drew,
And in the Tract went on directly to
The Mark. His Crest was deep, and, to and fro,
Upon his Neck and Ample Main did flow.
No Sire he had: Him Harpe, when anew
In the Vectonian Meades the Zephyrs blew,
Brought forth. This Chariot gallant Durius in
The Race urg'd on. On Atlas, who had been
His Master long, did Caucasus rely.
Him thither then Ætolian Tyde (by
Tydides built) had sent, and thought indeed,
That his Descent was from that Trojan Breed
Of Steeds, which from Æneas Diomed
Near Simois took, and home with Conquest led.
Now, as almost amidst the Race they drive,
In Space enlarg'd, Panchates, fierce, doth strive
T'or'etake the foremost Horses, and to tend
Yet higher, and behinde seems to ascend
The Chariot, that before him went; while He,
Striking on the Callàick Axle-tree,
Shakes it with his Forefeet. But, though the last,
Old Atlas, tow'rds the Goal, as nimbly past,
As Durius. You might think they Peaceful were;
So equally their Fronts, and Reins they bear:
But, when th'Iberian, who then next him went,
Perceiv'd, that the Callàick's Strength was spent,

468

Nor, as before, the headlong Chariot leap'd,
But with continual Violence, and Whip'd,
The smoaking Steeds went on. As, from high Hills,
A sudden Storm the lower Vallies fills,
Stretch'd to his Horses Necks, and hanging or'e
Their Heads, Panchates, that he should no more
Delay, but bear his Reins with good Success,
H' excites, and, lashing on, doth this express.
While thou contend'st, shall an Asturian gain
The Prize? Stir up; fly nimbly through the Plain.
For Lampon, who, as wing'd, but lately went,
In's panting Breast declines: his Breath is spent;
Nor, gaping, hath enough to bear him to
The Mark. Thus having said, the Horse anew
Himself collects, as if he newly then
Had started from the Barriers, and began
The Race, and Cyrnus striving, as he pass'd,
To cross, or equal him, behinde him cast.
Heav'n, and the Cirque, with the Spectatours Cries,
Murmurs, while through the Air Panchates flies,
And raising his Triumphant Neck more strong,
And High, his Fellows (foremost) draws along.
Atlas, and Durius, in the Rear, their Arts
In Wheeling try. This to the Left converts
His Reins, the other to the Right doth bend,
And strives to pass: and both, in vain, contend
Each other to deceive; till, on his Strength
Of Youth relying, Durius turn'd, at length,
His Reins, and headlong drives his Chariot on,
Cross Atlas Axle-tree; which overthrown,
He, weak with Age, complaining justly, cries;
Whither dost go? or what mad Way is this
Of running Races? both my Steeds, and Me
To kill thou dost Endeavour. Thus while he

469

Exclaims, the Ax-tree broke, upon his Face
He falls, and's Steeds, now drawing sev'ral Ways,
Run headlong through the Champagne (Sad to see!)
While, in the open Plain, with Victory,
The Reins unto his Friends Pelorus heaves,
And shakes, and 'midst the Sand, behinde him, leaves
Atlas, endeav'ring there to rise. Nor far
Had he to equal Cyrnus weary Carr.
Past whom (learning too late to guide his Steeds,
And marching slow) with nimble Wheels he speeds.
His Friends with Shouts, and Cries, his Chariot make
To go more Swift. And now upon the Back,
And Shoulders o'th' Iberian Charioter
His mouth the Horse had lay'd; who, full of Fear,
By the strong Vapour of his Breath, and Foam,
Soon feels his Back oppress'd, and Warm become:
While Durius ply'd the Race, and lash'd amain
His Horses on, nor seems to strive in vain,
On the Right-hand, to reach the Steeds before,
And equall'd them; and, then transported more
With so great Hopes, cries out. Pelorus now,
That Zephyrus was thy Sire, 'tis time to show:
And let them learn, that can the Pedegree
Of Steeds, by Name, derive, how much in Thee
A Breed Divine excels. A Conqu'rour, Thou
Shalt Altars raise, and Off'rings shalt bestow
Upon thy Sire. And if, as this he said,
Through joyful Fear he had not been betrai'd,
By his too great Success, and letting fall
His Whip, perhaps to Zephyrus he all
His Vows had pay'd, and Altars rais'd. But then,
As if h'ad gain'd the Crown, and it agen
Had tumbled from his Head, Unfortunate,
His Anger turning on himself, He strait

470

Across his Breast his golden Garment rends,
And dire Complaints, most sadly weeping, sends
Up to the very Stars. And now no more
(His Lashing ceas'd) the Chariot, as before,
Obey'd his Hand: but on the Horses Backs,
Insteed o'th' Whip, the Reins he, vainly, shakes.
While, now secure of Praise, Panchates came
Up to the Goal, and the first Prize did claim.
The Winde with his large Main, which Nature lay'd
Over his Neck, and Shoulders, gently play'd:
While, snatching up his subtile Limbs, about
He praunc'd, and triumph'd with a mighty Shout.
An Ax, in solid Silver carv'd, to all,
Alike, was giv'n. The rest the General,
Distinguishing with sev'ral Honours, gave.
The First a nimble Courser did receive,
Which the Massylian King a Present made,
Of high Esteem. The next in Merit had
Two Golden Cups, o'th' Tyrian Spoils (which there
In Plenty lay) and, rough with Yellow-Hair,
A Lion's Skin, and (with like Dread exprest)
A Tyrian Helmet, with an horrid Crest.
The Third in Honour, in Reward the last,
Was Atlas; who, though from the Chariot cast,
(Pitying the sad Misfortune of his Fall,
And his Decrepit Age) the General
Presented, and, in's Prime of Age, a Slave,
And Bonnet, of his Country's Fashion, gave.

This done, the General the Race proclaims
A Foot, and Hearts with Prizes fix'd inflames.
To th'first a Cask, which, late, upon the Head
Of Hasdrubal, did Pannick Terrour spread
Through all th'Iberian Bands. To him whose Speed.
Next Merited, a Sword there was Decreed,

471

Which from Hyempsal slain his Father took.
And to the Third, a Bull. The rest forsook
The Cirque: each Man well-pleas'd, and Proud, that they
Two Darts of Native Metal bore away.
Then Hesp'ros, and Tartessos, Lovely Boys,
At once appear with the propitious Voice
Of all the Cirque. Of Tyrian Blood, they came
From Gades. Next (to whom the River's Name
By Corduba was giv'n, when yet a Childe)
In that great Contest, Bæticus was fill'd
With joyfull Hopes. And then, with Yellow-Hair,
(But with a Skin, whose Whiteness might compare
With Snow) did Eurythus with Clamours fill
The Lists. He, bred upon her lofty Hill,
Was thither sent by Setabis, and there,
With trembling Piety, his Parents were.
Then Lamus, and then Sicoris (thy Brood,
Warlike Ilerda) and that drinks the Flood,
Which, under Lethe's Name, with Silence laves
The hollow Banks with its forgetful Waves,
Theron appears. And, when they all upon
Their Feet stood ready, and with Bodies prone,
And panting Hearts, with Heat of Praise elate,
Receiv'd the Signal by the Trumpet: strait,
Starting through Air, as swift as Arrows, by
Extended Nerves enforc'd, away they fly.
And now the Shouts, and Parties divers are:
The Fav'rours by their Fingers hang, and, where
Each Man affects, by Name their Friends excite;
While the fair Troop speeds through the Plain, so light,
Their Feet leave no Impression on the Sand.
All in their Prime; in Face all Comely; and
All swift of Foot; all Worthy to Or'ecome.
Now eager Eurythus the foremost, from

472

The middle Tract, advanc'd; yet foremost past
But a short Space: when Hesperos as fast
Came up, and press'd upon his Heels, while he
Conceiv'd it was enough for him to be
The Foremost. T'other it suffic'd he might
Yet hope to get before. With that, more light
Their Steps they gather, and with vig'rous Mindes
Drive on their Bodies. While their Beauty findes
Encrease from Labour. When with easy Pase
Theron, who ran the last of all the Race,
Finding his Strength sufficient for the Course,
His Un-spent Vigour with a sudden Force
Employs, and breaks into the Air, so fleet,
You'd think that Mercury with winged Feet
Went his Ethereal Course. Now these, then those,
(The People all admiring) He out-goes;
And lately last, now the Third Victour, press'd
By his swift Steps, dost Hesperos infest.
Nor whom he follows onely: but the Rings
Prime Hope, (advancing with such active Wings)
Amazeth Eurythus; when, Fourth in place,
Tartessos, vainly toiling (if the Race
The other three pursu'd, as they began)
With fiery Theron, that betwixt them ran
His Brother press'd. Which Theron now no more
Enduring rais'd Himself, and got before
Enraged Hesperos. Then onely One
Before him went. And now the Goal begun
With nearer Incitations to enflame
The vex'd behinde. When up they furious came,
And all the Force, that either Toil, or Fear,
Piercing into their Hearts, had left (while there
Could any thing be hop'd for, in a Space
So short) collect. The foremost Two the Race,

473

With equal Speed pursue, and happily,
The Prizes of a double Victory
(Coming together to the Mark) had won
With Merit, had not Hesperos (who run
Close behinde Theron, and through Anger made
Most Cruel) seiz'd upon his Hair (display'd
On's Milky Neck) and drawn him Back. While thus
The Youth detain'd, Triumphing Eurythus,
A joyful Victour, for the Prize appears,
And the fair Present of an Helmet bears
Away. Their fix'd Rewards the other found,
And with green Wreaths their un-cut Tresses bound.
Each had two Shafts with Native Metal steel'd.
This done; more cruel Conflicts stain the Field.
The Sword's drawn Hand to Hand, and a fair War
They represent. Not such, as Guilty are,
Nor vitious Men are to the Sword design'd:
But such, whom Valour equall'd, and a Minde
Inflam'd with Love of Praise. A perfect Face
Of their past Labours, and of Mars his Race
A worthy Spectacle. Among these were
Two Brothers, who (what will not Princes dare
To act? what Crimes do Scepters want?) engage
In a full Cirque (while the whole their Rage
Condemns) in single Combat for a Throne.
'Twas a dire Custom in their Country, known
Where Orphan Sons their Father's Royal Seat,
With Hazard of their Lives, invade. Both meet
With all the Fury, that a Mad Desire
Of Rule affords, and both at once expire;
Bearing to Ghosts below ambitious Hearts,
Glutted with Blood: and in their Inward parts
With one joynt Thrust, their Swords, push'd on, are drown'd:
And, adding railing Language to each Wound,

474

Struggling, their angry Souls fly into Air.
Nor could their Ghosts this Enmity forbare:
For, when their Bodies were together brought
Unto one Pyle (as if they still had fought)
The Impious Flames ('tis strange) asunder fly,
Nor would their Ashes there together ly.
The rest with sev'ral Gifts, as was their Share
Of Courage, or of Force, rewarded are.
Some Oxen, that, with Ploughs impress'd, could Till
The Earth: Some Youths, 'mong Tyrian Spoils, with Skill
Accustom'd to explore the Dens of Beasts:
Some Silver Plate, with wealthy Robes, and Crests
Rising on shining Helmets, bore away,
The Spoils, and Trophies of the Libyan Prey.
Then with the Dart they Honour sought (the last
Of these Circensian Games) and strove to cast
Beyond the Mark. Here, Neighbour to that Land,
Where Tagus Pale becomes with golden Sand,
Was Burnus, Famous for his long Descent,
And Line: with Glagus, who the Windes out-went
With his strong Arm. Aconteus too, whose Dart,
In its most speedy Course, the nimblest Hart
Ner'e miss'd. With them Indibilis, who long
In War delighted, now esteem'd among
Confederates of Rome: who often slew
With his sure Shafts the towring Fowl, that flew
Among the Clouds. And stout Ilerdes, who
Could easily surprize the flying Doe.
Burnus, who in the Mark first fix'd his Dart,
Damum receiv'd; a Maid, that mix'd with Art
The milky Fleeces with Getulian Dye.
But, who the next was Honour'd, and that nigh
Unto the Mark a Shaft had thrown, with Joy,
Ilerdes, for Reward, receiv'd a Boy.

475

The third Palm brave Aconteus had, a Brace
Of Dogs, that would the Boar with Mettle chace.

But, when Applause, and Shouts these Honours had
Approv'd: in Scarlet, Lælius, richly clad,
And Younger Scipio, with a chearful Look,
The Names, and Manes of the Dead invoke:
Then, strait, their Jav'lins throw; delighting so
All Honour to their Sacred Dust to show,
And add that Ceremony to the Games.
At length, the General (whose Face proclaims
His inward Joy, when he their Pious Hearts
Rewarded had, with Gifts to their Deserts,
And giv'n a Weighty Corslet, all of Gold,
Unto his Brother, and a Pair of bold
Asturian Steeds to Lælius) rising, threw
With Force his Conqu'ring Jav'lin, and, to shew
The Shades were truely Honour'd, as it flies
Amidst the Field ('tis strange) before their Eyes,
Fix'd in the Earth, the Jav'lin stands, and strait
With Leaves the lofty Boughs themselves dilate.
But now its Shadow, wide, the growing Tree
Extends: the Augurs all, with Prophecy,
Command them on to greater Things to go,
Which, by those Signs, the Deities foreshow.
With this Presage, the Libyans all from Spain
Repuls'd, to Latium he returns again;
His House, and Country both reveng'd, while Fame
The Triumph leads. Nor other Cares inflame
The Romane Breasts, then Libya to commit,
And Sacred Fasces, to his Youth. But yet
The Graver Sort, who fal'n in Courage, or
Success had wanted in that dubious War,
Opposing his Designs as Rash, with Fear
Their Dangers magnifie: and, as he there,

476

High in the Dignity of Consul, pray'd
Authority of Senate to invade,
And ruin Carthage with his Arms; this grave
Reply, aloud, the Elder Fabius gave.

I hope, I need not fear, that I, who am
Loaden with Age, and Honour; who in Fame,
And Years abound, should by the Consul be
Esteem'd a Person, that maliciously
From his Just Praises would detract. My Name
Is with sufficient Splendour rais'd by Fame.
Nor wants what I have done, with such Success,
New Praise. But, while I live, 'twere Wickedness,
To my dear Country to be wanting, or
Conceal my Minde in Silence. You the War
Intend to Libya to transferr. For We
Now want an Enemy in Italy.
Nor is't enough, that we have Hannibal
Subdu'd. What greater Honour can in all
Eliza's Land be found? but, if you are
Spur'd on by Glory, what should you Debar
To reap this Harvest? Thee for Deeds at hand
Fortune hath Fit, and Worthy made. Our Land
Ev'n thirsts, to drink the Blood of Hannibal.
Whither the War, or Ensigns do you call,
Extinguish first the Flames of Italy.
You plainly quit a weary Enemy,
And, at that Instant, Rome must Naked stand.
But, when you waste the Syrts, and barren Sand,
Will not that horrid Plague, with Fury, move
'Gainst these known Walls? invade Tarpeian Jove,
Depriv'd of Arms, and Men? Of how great Weight
Is it, should you give Way, and leave the State
To the Emerited? and, when we are
Struck with the Thunder of so great a War,

477

Must We (as Fulvius from proud Capua) Thee
From Libya's Coast recall? Get Victory
At Home, and Italy, that hath with Tears
Deplor'd the Funerals of Fifteen Years,
Absolve from cruel War; then take your Way
To remote Garamantians. You may
Your Nasamonian Triumphs then design.
But Italy, distress'd, must now Decline
All such Attempts. Your Valiant Father (He,
That so much Honour to your Family
Did add) when, Consul, he was bound for Spain,
Himself 'gainst Hannibal (who then amain
Descended from the Alps) did first oppose,
His Army all recall'd. From Conqu'ring Foes
You (Consul) would retire; that so you may
From Us the Libyan withdraw. But, say,
He will, secure, sit Quiet; nor pursue
You, and your Arms to Libya: will not You
Condemn these blinde Resolves, when Rome shall be
Surpriz'd? Or else suppose, that, troubled, He
Should turn his Ensigns, and your Fleet pursue;
He the same Hannibal will be, that You
Entrench'd have seen before this Citie's Wall.

This Fabius, and the like was urg'd by all
The Elder sort. The Consul strait reply'd.
By a joynt Death two Valiant Captains dy'd,
When Spain, possess'd, embrac'd the Libyan Yoak.
Not Fabius then, nor Any, that have spoke
His Sense, afforded Aid. I know, 'tis Truth,
The War's whole Fury I, when but a Youth
Endur'd, and to the falling Shafts alone
My Head expos'd, and drew all Dangers on
My self. And then the Seniour Sort, and ev'n
This Prophet murmur'd, that the War was giv'n

478

Unto a Boy, and blam'd Our rash Design.
But I all Praises to the Pow'rs Divine
(By whom a Trojan People we remain)
With Thanks return. That very Boy, those vain,
And Childish Years, that Scipio, who was then
Unripe for Arms, to You, un-hurt, agen
Hath giv'n all Spain; the Libyans thence by Force
Repuls'd, and, following the farthest Course
Of Sol to Atlas Bounds, the Libyan Name
Expell'd from the Hesperian Orb; nor came
With his Victorious Ensigns Home, before
He Phœbus saw, upon the Romane Shore,
Loosing his Flaming Chariot, near the Main.
The same to you did foreign Kings regain.
And Carthage now remains, the last of all
My Toils. This Jove declares. See! Hannibal
Old Age now shakes, or fainting Fears doth frame;
Lest to our Ruins, of such Length, my Name
A Period should produce. My Valour I
Have surely try'd, and Strength, augmented by
My Prime of Years. Then seek not to delay:
But rather suffer, that this Lot I may
Pursue. This the Immortal Gods for Me
Have kept, to wipe away the Infamy
Of former Woes. It is a fair Renown,
For Wary Fabius not to be or'ethrown:
And the Delayer hath effected all
For Us by sitting still. But Hasdrubal,
Mago, nor Hanno, nor yet Giscon's Son
Had turn'd their Backs, if we the like had done:
Or, Idle, close entrench'd, spun out the War.
Could a Sidonian Boy, who scarce did bear
The Down of Youth upon his Cheeks, invade
Laurentine People? Walls approach, were made

479

By Trojan Hands? and drink the Sacred Stream
Of Yellow Tyber? and in Latium seem,
By a long War, to share? and shall We stand
Thus backward to transport to Libya's Land
Our Ensigns? and the Tyrian Tow'rs destroy?
Their Coasts, secure of Danger, openly,
And all the Land a rich Tranquillity
Enjoys. At length let Carthage (wont to be
A Terrour) learn to Fear, and understand,
That, though from Hannibal th'Oenotrian Land
As yet's not free, we want not Arms. Ev'n I
This Man, that hath, so long, in Italy
(Till He's grown old through cautious Counsels) stood,
That hath three Lustra, largely, shed our Blood,
Him, fearing Cruel things, and trembling, I
Back to his Country, that in Flames shall ly,
Will turn. The Shameful Marks of Tyrian Hands
Shall Rome view on her Walls: while Carthage stands
Free, and secure, and hears our Misery,
And wars with open Gates? The Enemy
May batter then with their Sidonian Rams
Our Tow'rs again, if first in Romane Flames
They hear not that their Country's Temples fall.

The Fathers, by this Language, and the Call
Of Fate inflam'd, to what the Consul said,
At the same Time, assent; and, when they'd pray'd,
That it to Italy might happy prove,
Permit the War to Libya to remove.

The End of the Sixteenth Book.

481

The Seventeenth Book.

The Argument.

From Phrigia Cybele's brought to Rome
With Sacred Rites. Chast Claudia doth presume
(To vindicate her self) to draw alone
The standing Ship, by which her Virtue's known.
From Sicily the Consul Scipio sails
To Libya, where his Army still prevails.
Syphax, and Hasdrubal (their Camps in one
For Battell joyn'd) by Scipio overthrown,
Syphax is Captive made; a Pannick Dread,
From that great Overthrow, through Africk spread.
The Carthaginians call, to their Relief,
The General from Italy. His Grief
Exprest at his Return. The Armies fight,
And Hannibal by Scipio's put to flight.
Carthage, at length, receiveth Laws from Rome.
Great Scipio returns, in Triumph, Home.

The Sibyl's antient Oracles foreshow;
That then th'Ausonian Land the Forrain Fo
Should quit, when from Her Phrygian Seat, to Rome,
Cybelè (Mother of the Gods) should come

482

To be ador'd: and that the Deity,
Arriving, should by Him received be,
That should, selected from among the rest
Of all the Senate, be esteemed Best
Then living in the Present Age. A Name,
Better then Triumphs, and of greater Fame.
And now the thing arriv'd, which they had sought:
Cybelè, in a Latian Ship, was brought.
When Scipio, fearless (while the Senate all
Gave way) was ready to obey the Call,
To meet th'appointed Rites. The Son was He
O'th' General's Uncle, Chosen then to be
The Chief Commander in the Africk Wars:
Illustrious in his many Ancestours.
When, farr at Sea, the Deity this Youth
Devoutly had receiv'd, and to the Mouth
Of Thuscan Tyber brought: the Vessel, strait,
A female Band succeeds, and, with its Fraight,
The lofty Gally through the River drew
With fast'ned Cords. Then, round about them, through
The Air, the hollow Sounds of tinkling Brass,
With the harsh Timbrel's Noise contending, pass:
And dancing Satyres, which inhabit where
Chast Dindymus two lofty Hills appear,
And use in the Dictæan Caves to Sport,
And unto Ide, and silent Woods resort.
Amidst this Noise, the Sacred Vessel, known
By Chearful Shouts, refusing to go on,
Retracts the Ropes, and, on a sudden, stood
Immoveable, and fix'd within the Flood.
With that, the Priest (as in the Ship he stands)
Exclaims; Forbear, with your Polluted Hands,
To touch the Cords, and, I advise you, farr
From hence, Oh! farr depart, whoever are

483

Prophane, nor in this Chaster Labour joyn;
While it sufficeth, that the Pow'r Divine
Gives this Advise: but, if there any be,
That in her chaster Minde excells, if She
Be Conscious to her self, Her Bodie's Pure,
Her Hand alone this Pious Task, secure,
May undertake. Here Claudia, who her Name
From th'antient Clausi drew, by common Fame
Traduc'd, unto the Ship her Hands, and Eyes
Converting, said; Mother of Deities,
Thou Powr Divine, who didst for Us give Birth
To all the Gods, whose Off-spring Heav'n, and Earth,
The Seas, and Shades below, do rule by Lot.
If this my Body be without a Spot,
Great Goddess be my Witness! and let Me
By this thy easy Bark absolved be.
Thus having said; the Cable, free from Fear,
She seiz'd, and, suddenly, they seem to hear
The Lion's Murmur, and a Sound more Grave,
Untouch'd by any Hand, the Timbrels gave.
The Ship advanc'd so fast, you'd think the Winde
Had forc'd it on, and Claudia's left behinde,
Though 'gainst the Stream it ran. And Hopes, that far
All else exceed, chear up their Hearts: the War
And all their Fears, at length, shall ended be.
For active Scipio, leaving Sicily,
Hid with his winged Ships the spatious Seas:
But, with an off'red Bull, did first appease
The God, on whose blew Waves the Entrails swum.
Then Thunder-bearing Birds, descending from
The Gods Abodes, through the clear Air, in view,
Begin to lead the Navy, and to shew
Their Course by Sea. A Joyful Augury
Their Cries afford; and, as they foreward fly

484

Under a liquid Cloud, the Ships pursue
As far as they could keep them in their View;
And the Perfidious Coast of Cadmus Land
Attain. Nor yet did Africk Idle stand;
But, since so great a Storm upon her came,
A dreadful Pow'r under a mighty Name,
Against their Fury had prepar'd to bring
The Arms, and Force of the Massylian King.
Libya's sole Hope, and Latium's onely Fear,
Syphax, the Fields, and Valleys, ev'ry where,
And Shores had fill'd with Nomades, that scorn
Their nimble Steeds with Trappings to adorn;
Who with their singing Shafts, that, as they flie
Through Air, like Clouds, surcharg'd, obscure the Skie.
Of the Right-Hand, which he had giv'n before,
And League, that He upon the Altar swore,
Unmindeful; Rites of Hospitality,
And Feasts, that what was done could Testifie
His Faith, and Trust, chang'd by an Impious Flame
Of Love, He had infring'd, and's Crown became
The purchase of his Bed. Great Hasdrubal
A Virgin Daughter had, Esteem'd by all
As Beautiful, as her Descent was fam'd,
She taken to his Bed, as if inflam'd
With his first Nuptial Taper, suddenly,
His Forces all to Carthage turn'd. The Ty
Of Amity with Rome He violates,
And to the Fo his Dotal Arms translates.
But Scipio, careful to advise the King,
Bids him be Faithful to observe the thing,
That he had Sworn, and not to violate
The Laws of Peace, but firmly to his State,
And Kingdom stand. To call the Gods to Minde,
And Deeds, that Hospitality did binde.

485

That farr his Nuptials, farr his Tyrian Bride
Would be 'mong Romane Arms, if He deny'd
What they demanded, he should quickly finde,
That weak Obedience of too soft, and kinde
A Husband, and his Bed's so ardent Heats
Should stand in Blood. Thus, intermixing Threats,
Scipio advis'd the King, whose Wife before
Had stop'd his Ears. And, when Advice no more
Took place, He summons all his Swords agen,
Attesting the Chast Altars of the then-
Polluted League, and in the War proceeds
With various Arts. With Huts of slender Reeds,
And Fenny Flags, such as the Rustick Moor
Selects to thatch his Homely Cottage or'e,
The Libyan Camp was fill'd. This he assail'd
By Stealth, and secret Flames with Targets vail'd,
Scatter'd in Dead of Night, which, as they run
Diffus'd (like a Contagion) and begun
With mighty Noise, through th'Unctuous Food their Way
To make, through all the Air their Light display,
And by their active Heat the Rafters fall.
The Hostile Mischeif, like a Storm, through all
The Camp goes on, and on the arid Reeds,
With frequent Cracks, devouring Vulcan feeds.
Sad burnings in all Quarters rise, and some,
Before they could perceiv't, excited from
Their Sleep, are seiz'd by Fire, and, as for Aid,
In vain, they call, their Faces Flames invade.
The Lemnian God appears in ev'ry Place
A Conquerour, and in his dire Embrace
Destroys both Arms, and Men. The Plague swells High
And through the Clouds the half-burnt Camp doth fly,
In glowing Ashes: Then, with dismal Sounds,
And a prodigious Leap, the Fire surrounds

486

The King's Pavilion, and had sadly there
Devour'd the Man, had not his Guards, through Fear
Of Danger, (while amaz'd He much enquir'd)
Him from his Sleep, and Bed, by Force, retir'd.

But, when, within one Camp, the Tyrian, and
Syphax their Strength had joyn'd, and through the Land
Call'd thither, all in Arms, the Youth, agen,
The Wounds of that sad Night had eased: then
Shame, Anger, and (a third pernicious Fire)
His Wife into his Minde new Rage inspire.
And now, He, threatning, storms, his Face should be
Blasted by burning of his Camp: that He
Should, Naked, hardly scape the Fo by Flight,
Amidst his trembling Troops. But in the Light,
In clearer Day, and less prefidious View
Of Heav'n, no mortal Syphax could subdue.
Thus Foolishly he rants: while Fate his Pride,
And Breath concluding, would no more abide;
But cuts the Thread of this vain swelling Tongue:
For soon, as He (like Floods, that draw along
Whole Groves, and Rocks, and like swift Torrents, go
Through devious Ways, and all the Banks o'reflow
With foaming Waves) leap'd from his Camp, He prest
His furious Courser on, before the rest
And bids his Troops advance. The other Side
(A noble, sober Army) when they spy'd
The King far off, snatch'd up their Arms, and strait
March on, and singly with themselves debate.
See there: See how this proud Massylian King,
Insulting, at his Army's Head, doth bring
Them on, and for the Combat calls. Oh! may
This my Right-hand that Honour gain to Day.
The Sacred Altars of the Gods he hath
Defil'd, and hath infring'd his League, and Faith,

487

With our chast General. Oh! may it be
Sufficient (Gods) that once, already, He
From his burnt-Camp escap'd! This in their Hearts
Resolv'd, they all, contending, lance their Darts.
In the Fire-breathing Nostrils of his Steed,
A Jav'lin, that surpass'd the rest in Speed,
Was fix'd: By which the Beast erected stood,
And with his bounding Heels (his Jaws with Blood
Or'eflowing) beat the Air; then backward to
The Ground he fell, and, with a Spear pierc'd through,
As ev'ry Way he toss'd his Limbs, betrai'd
His Rider to the Fo: who Him invade,
As He, in vain, endeavour'd from the Ground
To rise, and fly; and, drawing from the Wound
The Weapon, seize Him. Then the Shame of Chains,
And Gyves, they add; while He to all remains
A great Example, never to rely
Upon Prosperity. And now, they ty
In Manacles his Scepter-bearing Hands:
And He, that, lately, saw so many Lands
Beneath his Feet: that Scepters, and the Sea,
That to the Ocean's bounds extended lay,
Under his Nod beheld, thrown from the Head
Of all his Kingdoms, is in Triumph led.
His Strength thus overthrown, the Libyans are
Cut off: while hated by the God of War.
And known for frequent Flight, (that Enterprize
Condemn'd) with Speed, the Tyrian Captain flies.
Carthage on one sole Man (her Members all
Thus ruin'd) now rely'd. And Hannibal,
Ev'n with his absent Name, the Frame sustain'd,
Falling with so great Noise: now, what remain'd
Was, that ev'n Fainting, and distress'd for Aid,
They should invite him Home. To this, affraid,

488

They all assent, when they perceiv'd, they were
Forsaken by the Gods. And strait they are
Dispatch'd, who with the Ship, the Briny Main
Might pass with Speed, to call him Home again,
And with the Senate's Mandate thus advise.
Haste Hannibal; lest, through Delay, thine Eyes
Carthage in Ruins see. Oh! be not slow
T'assist thy falling Country, and the Fo
From these our Walls repell. Thus charg'd, away
They sail'd, and, on the fourth ensuing Day,
The Vessel brought them to th'Italian Shore;
Where cruel Dreams the General's Minde full sore
Disturb'd. For as by Night, opprest with Care,
He slept, Flaminius, Gracchus, Paulus: there,
Seem'd with their naked Swords t'assault him, and
Together drive him from th'Ausonian Land.
With these, of dreadful Ghosts, an Army: all
That did at Thrasimen, and Cannæ fall,
Appear to chace him to the Sea. While He
Endeavour'd to the well-known Alps to flee.
Then Italy embracing in his Arms,
To it he stuck, untill Prodigious Storms
Forc'd him to Sea, and in a Tempest sent
Him Home again. Thus deep in Discontent,
And with his Dreams perplex'd, to him they came,
And their Instructions, in the Senate's Name,
With the great Danger of the State declare.
How the Massylian Forces routed were;
Their Prince, his Captive Neck, with Chains oppress'd
Kept a new Pomp for Jove: and, how distress'd
Carthage, by Hasdrubal's not single Flight,
Was shaken, and how they, in dead of Night,
(Sad to relate) had seen both Camps (conjoyn'd)
Afire, while th'impious Flames through Africk shin'd.

489

And that the furious Youth (while Hannibal.
Still kept the Brutian Coast) then threatned all
With Fire to Ruin: That the Fall drew nigh
Of Carthage. To what Country should they fly?
And his great Deeds (what Slaughters he had made
In Italy) relate? When this they'd said,
And all their Woes, and Fears had laid before
His Eyes; they wept, and his Right-Hand adore,
Like some great God. He, with a stern Aspect
Fix'd on the Ground, hears all, and doth reflect
With Silence on their Words, and weighs with Care,
If Carthage of so great a Value were.
At length, He thus reply'd: Oh Envy! Thou
Dire Fo to Man, who never wilt allow
Encrease to things, or, that great Praise should grow
Unto a greater Height. Not long ago
I level with the Ground could Rome, subdu'd,
Have lay'd, and Captive into Servitude
Have led the Nation, and on Italy
Our Laws impos'd. But, while at Home to Me
(Their General) they Pay, and Arms deny;
Nor my Troops, wasted with Success, supply
With fresh Recruits; and Hanno thinks it good
My Cohorts to defraud of Corn, and Food:
All Africk is on Fire, and Romane Spears
Push at Cadmeian Gates. Now, it appears,
That Hannibal's his Country's Glory, and
Her sole Support: and now, in this Right-Hand
Ly all your Hopes. Well, Homeward turn, with Speed,
Our Ensigns, as the Senate hath decreed.
I both my Country's Walls, and (Hanno) Thee
Together will preserve. All this when He
Had thunder'd out, strait from the Shore to Sea
He lanc'd his Fleet, and Sighing sail'd away.

490

None durst their Backs, as they put off, invade,
Or Him recal. Heav'n seeming to perswade,
He should, of's own accord, thus haste away,
And Italy, at length, be freed: they pray
For Windes, and think it is enough agen
To see the Coast so freed of Foes. As, when
Auster doth his impetuous Blasts restrain,
And, by retiring, calms the foaming Main,
The Sea-man then, not Prodigal of Pray'rs,
Desireth not so much as gentle Airs;
Content, that Notus should intirely cease,
And by the Sea's smooth Course esteems his Peace.
The Tyrian Soldiers, all, their Faces bent
Towards the Main. But Hannibal, intent,
With fixed Eyes, held Italy in view,
While silent Tears, with frequent Sighs, bedew
His Cheeks; as if he had been driven from
His Country, and had left his dearest Home,
Forc'd to some Desert Lands. But when, with Sails
Tack'd close, the Ships made Way with swifter Gales,
And by Degrees, the Hills began to draw
Their Summits down, that now He neither saw
Hesperian Mountains, nor the Daunian Coast:
Thus, fretting with himself; What have I lost
My Sense, unworthy to return (said He)
Ev'n thus, when ever I from Italy
Withdraw my self: in Flames first Carthage all
Should perish, and the Name of Dido Fall.
Was I not Mad, when, after Cannæ's Field,
From the Tarpeian Temples I withheld
My burning Weapons, nor the Thunderer
Dragg'd from his Throne, through the sev'n Hills from War,
Now free? my Flames might have scatter'd then,
And on that haughty Nation brought agen

491

Troy's Ruins, and their Grand-fires Fate. But, why
Should this Afflict me? Who forbids, that I
Should now invade them with my Sword, and go
Directly to their Walls? It shall be so:
And, through those very Lines returning, where
I once encamped lay, I will repair
To Anyo's Waters, by a Way to Me
Well-known. Then turn your Prows for Italy,
And tack-about the Fleet; I'le make, that Rome,
Besieg'd, shall call again her Scipio Home.

But, when the God of Seas perceiv'd, he burn'd
With so great Rage, and that they now had turn'd,
Towards the Shore again, their shining Prows,
Strait, shaking his Cœrulean Head, he throws
Waves from the Bottom, and the swelling Main
Extrudes beyond its Bounds. Then Windes, and Rain,
With black Æolian Storms, from Rocks arise,
And cover from their Sight, with Clouds, the Skies.
Then, with his Trident, moving all the Sea,
Blew Tethys from the Rising of the Day,
And Fall, he drives, and the whole Ocean's Face
Distracts. The foaming Billows rise apace,
And make the Rocks to shake, on which they beat.
First Auster, from his Nasamonian Seat,
Leaps forth, from the loose Sands the Water flings,
And leaves them bare. Him, on his gloomy Wings,
Fierce Boreas, bearing high a broken Sea,
Pursues. Then thund'ring, in another Way,
With adverse Blasts, Cloud-raising Eurus rowls
Part of the Ocean on: the cracking Poles
Bellow aloud; while frequent Lightning flies,
As if upon the Fleet the angry Skies
Would fall. The rage of Windes, and Lightning, Rain,
And Waves consent, and Darkness on the Main

492

Imposeth Night. Now, coming from a Rock
A furious Whirl-winde, rais'd by Notus, struck
The Yards, and whistling Dreadfully among
The Shrouds, a Billow, like a Mountain, flung
Against the General's pale-Face. His Eyes
He turning to the Sea, and to the Skies,
Exclaims; O Happy Brother, Hasdrubal,
And to the Gods made equal, in thy Fall!
Thy valiant Hand in Fight did thee afford
A noble Death, Fate did to thee accord,
That with thy Teeth, at least, on Italy
Thou dying might'st lay-hold. But unto Me,
In Cannæ's Field, where noble Paulus dy'd,
And those renowned Souls, Death was deny'd,
Nor, when I would have fir'd the Capitol,
Could I by Jove's Tarpeian Thunder Fall.

While thus he moans, with sev'ral Blasts impell'd,
The Waves, on either Side rush'd on, and held
With their dark Heaps the Vessel down, as drown'd
By that rude Shock. Strait, Whirling swiftly round,
The Sands, rais'd high into the Air, it flung
Again, where, pois'd by th'Windes, on Waves it hung.
But 'gainst rough Stones, and Rocks (sad to behold)
Notus two Gallies with hard Fortune roll'd.
The Prows crack'd with the Fall, and with a Sound
Of Dread, the broken Barks alost rebound
From the Sharp Stones. Strait, over all the Sea,
A various Face of things. Here Helmets they,
Arms, Crimson Crests, and Capua's Treasure see,
And a rich Prize, with Care reserv'd, to be
A Trophy for the Gen'rals Triumph. There
Tripods, and Tables of the Gods appear,
And Sacred Statues, that, in vain, before
The Miserable Latines did adore,

493

When Venus, frighted, that the Ocean
So high was mov'd, to Neptune thus began.

This Fury, and these Threat'nings (Father) may
Suffice for greater things; now spare (I pray)
Thy Seas, lest envious Carthage boast, that She
A Man hath generated, not to be
Subdu'd in War, and, that to work the Fall
Of Hannibal, the Romanes needed all
Thy Rage, and Seas. Thus Venus spoke, and strait
Their Fury all the swelling Waves abate,
And tow'rds the adverse Camp the Navy drive.
Their Gen'ral, old in Arms, and skill'd to give
Encouragement with Praise, their Mindes, inspir'd
With Anger by these furious Words, and fir'd
Their Brests with Flames of Honour. Thou, to Me,
Flaminius bleeding Head, when slain (said He)
Didst bring. I know thy Hand: Thou, first of all,
Cam'st in to strike, at mighty Paulus Fall,
And in his Bones didst fix thy fatal Spear.
Th'Opimous Spoils of stout Marcellus were
Thy glorious Prize: and falling Gracchus stain'd
Thy Sword. But, there, behold that Valiant Hand;
Which, with a Jav'lin, Warlike Appius (who
Then storm'd the Walls of wealthy Capua) threw
Dead from the lofty Ramparts: and here see
Another Thunder-bolt of Valour! He
It was, who Fulvius, a Name renown'd,
Pierc'd through the Breast, not with a single Wound.
Stand thou here in the Van, who didst in Arms
Consul Crispinus kill, Me, through the Storms
Of Fight, do thou attend, who (I the thing
Remember well) pleas'd in thy Rage, didst bring,
At Cannæ's Field, the Gen'ral's Head to Mee,
Fix'd on a servile Lance. Brave Youth, I see

494

Thy burning Eys, and Aspect, that hath more
Of Terrour, then thy Sword; such, as before,
Thee (when a Tribune, that in vain withstood,
Crush'd by thy strong Embrace, i'th' cruel Flood
Of famous Trebia drown'd) I did behold.
But Thou, who, first, didst at the Banks of cold
Ticînus, in old Scipio's Blood imbrue
Thy Sword, thy former Enterprize pursue,
And the Son's Blood present me now. Shall I
Fear ev'n the Gods themselves, when Thou art by,
Should they come to the Battel? I beheld,
When thou didst trample on the Hills, that swell'd
To Heav'n, and o're the highest Alps didst go
With Speed. Since, by whose Sword, and Hands I know
Argyripa's capacious Fields were fir'd:
Wilt thou more slowly now, by Me desir'd,
Go on, who first of all didst lance a Dart
Against the Dardan Walls? nor willing art
To joyn unto our Praise? must I again
Thee now excite? Thee, who 'gainst Storms of Rain,
Thunder, and Lightning, and, when I did stand
Jove's Fury, didst, as fierce as He, command
T'endure those vainer Storms, and wentst before
Thy Gen'ral to the Capitol. No more
Need I exhort you now, who, by a War
So fam'd, Sagunthus overthrew; and are
Renown'd for those Beginnings: now again
(As it becomes your selves, and Me) maintain
The former Praises of your Valour. I
I'th' favour of the Gods, and Victory
Grown old, now, after Fifteen Years, on You
Relying, to my falling Country, to
Those House-hold Gods, that in so long a space
Of Time I have not seen, to the Embrace

495

Of my Chast Wife, and Son return again.
This the last Battel is, that doth remain
To Libya, and to Rome. This Day our Sword
Shall give to the disputed World its Lord.

Thus Hannibal. But, as their General
Began to speak, the Romane Soldiers call
For Battel, and the Signal; nor abide
Delays of Words. All this when Jove espy'd
His Wife, at distance, in a Cloud of Air,
Behold, and that her eager Looks did wear
Something of Sadness, to her with this kinde
Address He goes. What Torments of the Minde
Afflict Thee now? I pri'thee, let me know;
Is it the Libyan Captain's overthrow,
Or Care of Carthage grieves Thee? do but weigh
Within thy Thoughts the Rage of Libya
'Gainst th'Trojans fatal Pow'r, and Progeny,
In violating Leagues. Say what will be
The End of this Rebellious People? None,
Not Carthage, more of Ills hath undergone,
Or Labour, then thy Self: who long hast toil'd
For the Cadmæan Race. Thou hast embroil'd
The Seas, and Earth, and into Italy
Hast sent a furious Youth, while we might see
The Walls of Rome stand trembling, and of all
Man-kinde, for Sixteen Years, was Hannibal
The Chief. 'Tis time the Nation to compose,
The Period is come, and we must close
The Gates of War. The suppliant Queen reply'd.
Nor in that hanging Cloud did I abide,
With a Design, a Day prefix'd, at all,
To change; nor yet the Armies to recall;
Nor War extend: but what You can bestow,
(Since now all Favour towards me is low,

496

And our first Love's decay'd) 'gainst Fates Decree
I nothing ask. Let Hannibal now flee
His Enemies, as you are pleas'd t'ordain,
And let, in Carthage, Romane Ashes reign.
By th'mutual Pledges of a double Love,
Thy Wife, and Sister, I this onely (Jove)
Intreat, that my brave Captain may survive
All Dangers, and be kept, by Thee, Alive.
Nor let him, Captiv'd, Latian Fetters wear;
But, let these, my dear Walls, that batter'd are
With Mis'ries (though the Tyrian Name decline)
Stand, and, for Honour's sake, be kept as Mine.
Thus Juno. To whom Jove this short Reply
Vouchsaf'd. The Walls of lofty Carthage I
Will, for some time, forbear, as you desire,
And grant them to your Pray'rs, and Tears, entire
To stand. Yet know (dear Wife) at what a rate
I this indulge; not long, that City's Fate
Endures. For there will come a General,
Who, under the same Name, will ruin all
These Tow'rs preserv'd. And, from this fatal Fight
Escaping, Hannibal Ethereal Light
(At this Entreaty) may enjoy a while.
Hee'l seek the Stars, and Ocean to embroil,
And with returning Arms to fill the Earth.
I know his Heart, still pregnant with a Birth
Of War. But to this Boon this shall remain
A Law: He never must behold again
Saturnus Empire; nor to Italy
Return. From instant Death now let him be
Remov'd, with Speed; lest, if i'th' open Plain
He joyn in Battel, he should not again,
By all thy Pow'r, from Scipio's Hand be freed.

While thus their Fates the Thunderer decreed,

497

Both to the City, and to Hannibal;
The Armies to the Fight advance, and all,
With Shouts, invade the Skies. Earth, in no Age
Before, two mightier Nations did engage
In Fight: nor greater Generals had seen,
Equal in Arms, contending. While, between
These two, their fam'd Dispute's un-valu'd Prize
Was whatsoe're is cover'd with the Skies.
The Tyrian, rich in Purple, 'bove the rest
Rais'd his proud Head: upon his Crimson Crest
A waving Plume. A cruel Dread precedes
From his great Name: his Sword a Lightning sheds,
Well-known to Italy. On th'other Side,
Scipio, in radiant Robes, in Scarlet dy'd,
His dreadful Target shews; where, breathing War,
His Father's Image, and his Uncle's are
Engrav'd: Huge Flames from his high Fore-head fly.
And thus the Hopes of all, and Victory
(Under so great a Force of Arms, and Men)
Stood in the Generals alone. And then
Thus Fear, or Favour (as 'tis often seen)
Suggests. If valiant Scipio had been
In Libya born, the Empire might have come
To Agenorean Nephews. Or, had Rome
Giv'n Birth to Hannibal, then doubtless He
The World had subject made to Italy.
Now rapid Storms of flying Shafts brake through
The Air, and with them Clouds of Horrour drew:
Then to the Sword more close each Army came,
And Fight it Face to Face. A dreadful Flame
Burns in their Eys, and those, that in the Van,
Contemning Danger, first the Charge began,
Between both Armies fell; and, long before
Not seen by them, the Earth drunk Native Gore.

498

But here, in Courage hot, as He was Young,
Stout Masanissa flings himself among
The Macedonian Cohorts, and flies round
About, with's winged Darts, the Champagn Ground.
So, when the painted Britain goes to War,
He circumvents with his hook-bearing Carr
The thronged Bands. A Græcian Phalanx then,
In a close Body, had drawn up their Men,
(As was their Country's Use) and firmly stood,
With intermingled Spears, to make it good.
Unmindeful of the Compact he had made
After the League, these Philip to the Aid
Of Cadmus shaken City sent. And now,
Broken with many Wounds, the Soldiers grow
More thin, and, as on ev'ry Side they lay
Prostrate upon the Ground, an open Way
Between the Weapons leave. Then, with a Stroke,
Of Ruin, in th'Ausonian Cohorts broke,
And cancell all their Græcian Perjuries.
Archemorus by Rutulus; Teucer dies
By stout Norbanus, in declining Age:
Both by their Mother Mantua sent t'engage
In Arms. But Samjus brave Calênus slue:
And Selvis Clytuis (a Pellæan) who
Vainly insulted in his Country's Name.
But alass Clytuis! 'twas not Pella's Fame,
That could from Daunian Darts defend thee here.
But Lælius, with Upbraidings more severe
Then these, the Brutian Bands, of Latine Race,
Destroys. Was Italy so Vile a Place,
That it, with Tyrian Oars, You thus (said He)
Through the rude Seas, and raging Waves should flee?
But 'tis enough, that you are fled. Will You
With Latine Blood a forein Land imbrue?

499

This said: He Silarus, active in the Fight,
Prevented with a Shaft, that in its Flight
Stuck in the Bottom of his Throat: so hard
It flew, that it, at once, the Passage barr'd
Of Life, and Voice. Vergilius destroy'd
Caudînus. By Amanus Sarris dy'd.
Their Looks, and Habit of their Arms, well-known,
And Language, that concorded with their own,
Inflam'd their Rage. Whom when Amilcar's Son
Perceiv'd inclining from the Fight to run,
He cries; Betray not thus our Nation; stand:
Then charg'd, and turn'd the Battel with his Hand.
As when a Parethonian Snake, that long,
I'th' Garamantian Fields, was fed among
The fervent Sands, with Poison swell'd, doth rear
His Neck, and spouts, through the infected Air,
The flowing Venom to the Skies: so He
Herjus (that with his Spear continually
Dealt Wounds, who of Marrucian Lineage came,
And in Theatè had a noble Name)
More nimble, stops, and, as he something high
Attempted, seeking with his Enemy
An equal Praise, with a swift Hand, quite through
His Body drives his fatal Weapon to
The Hilts. The Wounded falls, and, as he lies
Prostrate, his Brother seeks with dying Eyes:
When Young Pleminius came on apace,
And, brandishing his Sword before his Face,
Enrag'd at his sad Fall, with a loud Cry,
Threatning, demands his Brother. This Reply
Gave Hannibal; I shall refuse no more
(If you think fit) your Brother to restore,
On this Condition, that from Shades below
You Hasdrubal recall. Shall I forego

500

My juster Hate 'gainst such as Romanes are?
Or shall I let my Heart relent? and spare
One, born on the Italian Ground? then may
The Ghosts me, as a Fo, from thence where they
Abide, expell! Then may my Brother Me
For ever banish his Society
In dark Avernus! Speaking thus, he ran
With all the Weight of's Shield upon the Man,
And where the Earth, made slipp'ry with the Blood
Of's Brother, fail'd him, as he Fighting stood,
Fel'd, and with's Sword dispatch'd him on the Place:
While with extended Hands in his Embrace
He prostrate Herius held, and eas'd his weight
Of Grief, by sharing in his Brother's Fate.
The Libyan then a Body mix'd in Fight
Invades, and rushing on, his Foes to Flight
Turn'd a long way. As, when, with Thunder hurl'd
Th'Ætnéan Bolts of Jove affright the World,
And his high Palace shake, a Pannick Fright
Makes all Man-kinde to quake, th'Obortive Light
With Horrour shines, and Jove seems ready, by
Each Man, at him to let his Lightning fly.

But in another Quarter, as if there
Where Scipio fought, the onely Danger were,
A bloody Fight new Forms of Death Creates
In various Shapes. A Sword this penetrates,
And down he falls: That lamentably Groans,
A Stone in pieces crushing all his Bones.
Some, basely flying, on their Faces are,
Through Fear, Precipitated. 'Gainst the War,
Others, with Valour arm'd, their Breasts oppose.
While the Rheteian Gen'ral forward goes
O're the dead Heaps. As when the God of War
With Slaughter pleas'd, shakes his Bistonian Carr,

501

Near frozen Hebrus, and the Getick Snow
Melts with warm Blood, and Ice, by Aquilo
Augmented, with his ratling Chariot's weight
Asunder breaks. Now with a dreadful Heat,
Looking about, He ev'ry valiant Name
With's Sword assails. There through the World for Fame
Of Slaughters known, among their Weapons, falls
On ev'ry Side, the Youth, that storm'd thy Walls
(Sagunthus) and a War most Cruel in
Thy miserable Ruins did begin.
There, who the Sacred Thrasimen with Blood
Had stained, and the Phaëtontian Flood
Polluted, who the Boldness had to move
Their Arms, to sack the House, and Throne of Jove,
In one vast Ruin fell. There they were slain,
Who did the Secrets of the Gods prophane,
And first the Alps, prohibited, had press'd
With mortal Steps. The Army, all possess'd
With Fear, in haste discouraged retire.
As, through a Citie's Houses, when the Fire
Diffused runs, and ventilated by
A rapid Winde, the active Flames do fly
Up to the Skies, struck with a sudden Fear,
And Trembling, as the City captive were
The People run, distracted ev'ry Way.
But Scipio, now grown weary with Delay,
So to pursue those scatter'd Combats, or
To be detained in so light a War,
Resolv'd his Force upon the Cause of all
Those Ills, and War to turn. For, Hannibal
Alone that Day surviving, it would be
No Benefit at all to Italy,
Should Carthage Walls be set on Fire, and all
Their Armies overthrown. But should He fall

502

Alone, not all their Arms, and Men would ought
Avail the Libyans. Him he therefore sought,
And search'd, through all the Field, with busy Eyes.
Then to the thickest of the Fight he hies,
Wishing, that all Ausonia, if He there
Should him encounter, the Spectatours were.
And bold, with a fierce Voice, his Fo doth cite
(Upbraiding him) unto another Fight.
Which Language when affrighted Juno hears:
Lest it should touch the Libyan Captain's Ears,
Sh' informs a Romane Shape, which strait assumes
Th'Italian Prince's shining Crest, his Plumes,
And Shield, and spreads his radiant Cassock's Grace
Upon his Shoulders. Then She adds his Pace,
And Habit; such, as him She did behold
Provoking to the Fight: and Motion bold,
Without a Body, gives. At length, a Steed,
Like false, and vain, She forms, that runs with Speed
Through devious Ways, and offers to the Sight
The Image of a Warlike Shade, in Fight.

Thus Scipio, fain'd by Juno, proudly to
The Fight advanc'd, and brandish'd in the view
Of Hannibal his Sword; who, pleas'd, his Ey
Beheld the Romane General so nigh,
And hoping mighty things were then at Hand,
Strait claps his Heels against his Courser, and,
With sudden Force, a Jav'lin at him throws.
The winged Shade turns back, and flying goes
Quite cross the Field, beyond the Armies. Then,
As if possess'd of's Chief Desire, agen,
With his steel'd Heel, th'insulting Libyan makes
His Horse to bleed, and still pursuing shakes
Th'enlarged Reins. O! whither dost thou run
Forgetful, that 'tis our Dominion

503

(Scipio) where now thou Fly'st. Libya to Thee
Affords no skulking Hole. Thus, proudly, he
With his drawn Sword still follow'd, as it Fled,
Until, deluded, by it, he was led
Into another Field, far distant from
The place of Battel; where no sooner come,
But the Delusive Shade to Air resolves.
What God (said angry Hannibal) involves
Himself in that dark Light to Me? Or why
Doth he conceal'd within that Monsterly?
Is then my Glory to the Gods become
So opposite? Yet never shalt thou from
This Hand compel, or force my Fo (said He)
By all thy Arts, whatever God thou be,
Who stand'st for Italy. With that he wheel'd
His nimble Steed about, and to the Field
Enrag'd returns. When strait, with secret Dread
Of sudden Mischief shock'd, upon his Head
Down fell his Courser, and, by Juno's care,
Breath'd from his panting Breast his Life to Air.
But then, Impatient, This again (said He)
This is your Plot (ye Gods) nor do you me
Deceive: I better by the Rocks had bin
O'rewhelm'd; I better had been drowned in
The Waves, and Seas. Was I preserved then
To this vile Death? while those unhappy Men,
That have my Ensigns follow'd, and from Me
Alone receiv'd a Battel's Augury,
Are slaughter'd, and I, absent, understand
Their Groans, their Voice, and Words, as they demand
Their Hannibal. What Stygian Torrent is
Sufficient to wash off my Sin? As this
He spake, on's Right-Hand with an earnest Ey
He look'd, enflam'd with a Desire to Dy.

504

But Juno, pitying the Man, assumes
A Sheepherd's Face, and, on a sudden, comes
From the thick Woods; and, as he thought to Dy
A Death Inglorious, thus accosts Him: Why,
So arm'd, to these Our Woods do you repair?
Would you go to that cruel Battel, where
Great Hannibal in Arms the rest subdues
Of the Ausonian Armies? If you'l choose
The speedy, and compendious Way to go
Into the Thickest of them, I will show
The nearest Tract. To this He strait agrees,
And onerates with ample Promises
The, Sheepherd's Breast: and tells him, that the State
Of Carthage would his Pains remunerate
With large Rewards, and He would give as great.
Thus Eager, hasting o're the next Retreat
With largest Steps, the Goddess him conveys,
Deceiv'd by Intricacy of the Ways,
In Circles, and, her self concealing still,
Gave him unwellcome Safety 'gainst his Will.
But the Cadméan Troops, forsaken all,
And full of Fear, seeing no Hannibal,
Nor the known Conflicts of their furious Chief,
Some think him slain, others are of Belief,
That He, concluding all was lost, withdrew
From the Sinister Gods. And now, in View,
The Romane Gen'ral (like a Storm) amain
Came on, and chas'd them thorough all the Plain.
Carthage her self then trembled: Pannick Dread
Through Africk by the routed Troops is spread.
And, without Fighting, as they Head-long fly,
To their extreamest Bounds they, frighted hie.
Some to Tartessiack Coasts dispersed are;
Others to Battus Lands, and Nile repair.

505

So, when, by secret Force o'recome, at last
Vesuvius to the Stars his Flames doth cast,
Through many Ages fed, o're Sea, and Land
The Fire's diffus'd: th'Eöan Seres stand
Amaz'd, beholding a Prodigious Sight,
Their silken Groves with Latian Ashes White.
But now, at length, the weary General
To th'neighb'ring Hill Saturnia brought, where all
The Face, and Signs o'th bloody Fight more near
He saw. Such as Garganus did appear;
Such as the Tyrrhen Lake, and Trebia's Flood,
And swift Eridanus, with Humane Blood
O'reflowing, he beheld. Such a dire Face
Was shown of Myriads slaughter'd on the Place.
Then troubled Juno re-ascends the Skie,
And, climbing up the Hill, the Fo drew nigh;
When Hannibal thus with himself: Though all
The Fabrick of the Heav'ns dissolv'd should fall
On this my Head; and Earth should open wide:
Yet shall the Fame of Cannæ (Jove) abide;
And sooner from thy Empire shalt Thou fall,
Then in the Deeds, and Name of Hannibal,
The World be silent. Nor, from this my Hand,
Secure (O Rome) shalt thou for ever stand.
I, against Thee, my Country's Hope will live,
For a new War. For that Thou now dost thrive
In Fight, is 'cause thy Foes sit still. To Me
More then enough it is, that Italy,
And Dardan Mothers, while I live, will there
Expect Me, and ne're lay aside their Fear.
Then, with a few, that fled away, he gets
Back to the Hills, and more secure Retreats.
Here the War's Period was. To Scipio
Strait, of their own Accord, they open throw

506

Their Gates. Their Impious Rites abolish'd are.
Their Arms he takes away, and Laws, that were
Engrav'd. Their Strength in Riches, and their Pride
Is overthrown, and Elephants aside
Their Castles lay. At length (to Libya
A dismal Sight) their Fleet is fir'd: the Sea
Burns with the sudden Tempest, and the Flame
Nereus affrights. The Gen'ral, with a Name,
That equal shall with Time, for ever, stand,
With the first Title of that conquer'd Land,
Sure of that Empire, goes, by Sea, to Rome,
And, in great Triumph, to his Native Home
Is born. Before him Syphax, Captivate,
Upon a Bier, his Eyes dejected, sate;
His Neck in golden Chains preserv'd. And here
Hanno, and Young Phœnician Nobles were:
Then Macedonian Princes: next to these
The Moors, with parched Skins: then Nomades,
And Garamantians known to Horned Jove:
Where they the Sands survay, and Syrts, that prove
Destructive still to Ships. Next, lifting to
The Stars her conquer'd Hands, did Carthage go.
Then the Effigies of th'Iberian Land,
Now Peaceable: with Gades, that doth stand
The Period of the Earth; and Calpè, that,
Of old, Alcides Praise did terminate:
With Bætis, which the Horses of the Sun
Is wont to bath in Streams, that gently run:
And high Pyrenè, that gives Birth to Wars,
And lifts her leavy Head unto the Stars.
With rude Iberus, that, with Fury, flings
Against the Sea the Rivers, that he brings.
Yet nothing more delights their Mindes, and Eyes,
Then Hannibal, as in the Field he flies.

507

But standing in his Chariot, to the View
Of Rome, his Martial Face doth Scipio shew;
In Gold, and Tyrian Purple, richly drest:
As, when descending from the spicy East,
With Bridled Tygers, Bacchus drove along
His Vine-bound Chariot: Or, when, among
The slaughter'd Gyants, in Phlegræan Wars
Alcides walk'd, and touch'd the very Stars.

Hail, thou Un-conquerable Parent! who,
In Praise, art equal to Quirînus, to
Camillus in Deservings! nor, when She,
Among the rest, commemorateth Thee,
The Offspring of the Gods, doth Rome bely
Tarpeian Jove's Immortal Progeny.

FINIS.

A CONTINUATION OF SILIUS ITALICUS TO The Death of HANNIBAL, In Three BOOKS

TO THE RIGHT HONORABLE WILLIAM Earl of STRAFFORD, &c.

A Continuation of SILIUS ITALICUS To the Death of HANNIBAL

The First Book.

The Argument.

The Romane Piety, and Zeal to pay
(At Scipio's Return) the Vows, which they
In War had made. King Syphax Captive dies
By voluntary Famine. The sad Cries
Of Carthaginian Dames. Their Citie's quite
Disarmd. Imilce's parting Tears. By Night,
Great Hannibal his Treach'rous Country flies;
Sails to Cercinna: and, in Sacrifice,
A Day consumes. Fearing to be betray'd;
Those, whom he doubts, by Wine asleep are lay'd.

Now had great Scipio brought his Trophies Home,
And with loud Triumphs fill'd the Streets of Rome:
The People to their num'rous Altars bring
Their pleasing Off'rings, and glad Pæans sing.
Such Store of Sweets, in ev'ry Temple smoak;
As if not Libya onely felt the Yoak
Of this great Conquest: but Arabia there
Her Tribute gave, and the Sabæans were

Their Vassals. Or, as if to Prophesie,
That all the World, in Time to come, should be
By them subdu'd, and Rome, Triumphant, stand
The wealthy Store-house of each conquer'd Land;
Bulls, that with Snow, for Whiteness, might contend,
Wash'd in Clitumnus sacred Streams, ascend
The Capitol: their curled Foreheads Crown'd
With flowry Wreaths, their Horns with Fillets bound.

These all in solemn Order, round the Hill
Thrice, slowly, lead: the Joyful People fill
The trembling Air with Shouts: then enter, while
The Gods seem pleas'd, and in their Statues smile;
Pleas'd, that Devotion with Success they see
So duely mix'd, and grateful Piety
To pay those holy Vows, which first arose
From Fears of Ruin, and insulting Foes.
First, to the Queen of Gods, a Purple Vest,
Whose rich Embroid'ry all the Art exprest
Of the Sidonian Dames, and then a Crown
Of Gold, which, hapless Syphax overthrown,
His Sophonisba wore, the Matrons bring;
And, Off'ring at her Shrine, thus, Pious, sing.

Sister, and Wife of Jove, Celestial Queen,
Whom we, so long, so full of Wrath have seen;
That Rome, almost despairing of her Fate,
Saw these her Walls besieg'd; let not thy Hate
To Trojan Blood still prompt Thee to despise
Our Piety: but, with serener Eyes,
Behold Us now, and hear Us, when We pray,
And our Oblations on thine Altars lay.
Why should thy Love to Libya still enflame
Thy Rage 'gainst Us, who from Æneas came?
Let it suffice: We, to this very Time,
Have expiated, with our Blood, that Crime

Of Paris. Oh! believe him now to be
In Us, repenting his Disdain of Thee.
Be then appeas'd! thy Mercy will no less,
Then doth thy Power, thy Deity confess:
And, if at length, with other Gods, and Fate
Thou wilt comply, to bless the Romane State;
As Thou on the Supreamest Throne above
The Heav'ns art seated: so, here, next to Jove,
Thou shalt be worshipp'd, and the World shall come
To bring their Off'rings unto Thee at Rome.

The Flamen, while they thus invoke, his Hands
Display'd to Heav'n, at Jove's high Altar stands,
And thus exhorts. Oh! may We ever see
Religion thus to Crown thy Victory,
(Quirinus Progeny) these Pious Charms
(Oh Rome) will force the Gods to bless thine Arms.
Then, O, then, let thy Piety encrease,
As now, when War is ended, and thy Peace
Confirm: Impiety alone the Fates
Provokes, and flingeth open Janus Gates.
This said: an hundred Bulls at once are slain,
Which, with their Blood, an hundred Altars stain.
Their Entrails all, enquir'd for what's to come,
Promise a lasting Happiness to Rome:
That She the Head of all the World should stand,
And next to Jove the Universe command.
The Gods thus serv'd; they all begin to Feast,
And in their costly Banquets spend the rest
O'th' Day. The Senate seated are alone,
And to great Scipio's Honour, one by one,
A stately Goblet quaff of Massick Wine.
His Cheeks, mean while, with modest Blushes shine;
As if they'd Fire the Laurel on his Brow,
Unwilling those Just Praises to allow.

So, in the Gyants War, when Heav'n again
Was free from Fear, and mighty Typhon slain,
To Mirth themselves the Gods dispos'd, and, round
The Tables, Hebè with Nepenthè crown'd
Their Cups: while all Apollo's Skill proclaim,
Commend his Bow, his Shafts, and certain Aim,
By which the Gyants fell; when they upon
The Stars had seiz'd, and Jove's Celestial Throne
Almost possess'd. But, back again to Hell,
Struck with these Heav'nly Arms, the Rebels fell.

The solemn Day thus spent: the Night succeeds,
Inviting all to Rest. While Syphax bleeds
Within: the Trumpet, which their Triumphs sounds,
Grates on his Ears, strikes to his Heart, and wounds
His very Soul. Sometimes, He thinks upon
His former State, when, sitting on a Throne
Of Native Ivory, He did command
Those Nations, which the Æthiopian Land,
And Nasamon confines, with those, that by
The Carthaginian Bounds, and Hammon ly;
With all, that South-ward dwell near Nile, and those,
Where the Herculean Sea 'gainst Calpè throws
Its foaming Waves: when he could summon, to
The War, whole Myriads of Horsemen, who
On naked Steeds did ride, and gave them Law:
And between Rome, and Carthage when he saw
The World disputed was, that He had been
The Umpire of their Quarrel, and had seen
Them both his Friendship seek, until his Flame
Of Love the Ruin of his Throne became.
Sad with these Thoughts, that, in his troubled Breast,
Swell like a raging Tempest, and all Rest
Deny: at length his Sighs (that, as a Winde,
Within the Bowels of the Earth confin'd,

Shakes the whole Fabrick, untill forth it breaks
Into the Air) make Way, and thus he speaks.

Is then the Birth, and Title of a King,
(Ye Gods, from whom Kings, sprung) so vain a thing;
That, with one Shock of Fortune onely, I
Must fall so low, into Captivity,
As to become their Slave to whom, of late,
I was a Terrour? Are the Laws of Fate
Of so great Force, that whatsoe're's Design'd
By them, by all must be obey'd? must binde
The Deities themselves? Alass! if so,
Why do poor Mortals to their Temples go,
And vainly crave that Aid, which cannot be
Confirm'd, unless the Fates the same decree?
How oft did I, before I took in hand
This War, their Counsel, and Consent demand?
As oft, their Tripods what I ask'd allow'd.
And I, as often, to their Honour vow'd
Dardanian Spoils. But, since I am or'ethrown,
'Tis not my Crime they want them, but their own?
From them it was, that Sophonisba's Charms
Prevail'd, and Head-long thrust me into Arms:
Against that Faith, which I to Rome, before,
Religiously had sworn. I would no more
Of this complain, had we together dy'd.
Or, had not Masanissa both my Bride,
My Throne, and Crown enjoy'd. Ye Gods, You were
If not Unjust in this, at least, Severe.
Else wherefore did I not, when Hostile Fire
Had seiz'd my Camp, within those Flames expire?
Then might I to the Shades below have gone,
At least, a King. Then I had onely known
The Fate of being conquer'd, not the Shame:
Nor then had Rome recorded Syphax Name

Among her Captives. Nor, then, had these Hands,
That shook a Scepter o're so many Lands,
Been thus bound up in Chains. But, why do I
Complain of Life, and not resolve to Dy?
What? though they study to preserve me still,
A living Trophy here; yet is my Will
Free, as the Conquerour's: and Rome shall finde,
I still retain the Empire of my Minde,
That stands above her reach, where I alone
Will rule, and scorn to live, but on a Throne.
This said; a sudden Silence seiz'd his Soul:
And, as deep Waters in still Chanels roul,
And, murm'ring less, into the Ocean flow;
So the Resentments of his Griefs, that grow
Too great to be express'd, through ev'ry part,
Like a swift Fever, runs, till his great Heart,
Resolv'd to bear that Load no more, deny'd
Nature her common Food, and, starv'd, He dy'd.
And, as a Lion, that hath long in Blood
Maintain'd his Empire in some Libyan Wood,
Surpriz'd at last in Toils, and kept to be
The Pastime of the Cirque, raging to see
His Native Freedom lost, doth, roaring, round
His Prison walke, and (with that dreadful Sound,
Was wont all other Beasts to Terrify,
And, with their Flocks, make trembling Sheepherds fly)
Shakes all about. But, when he findes, at length,
That nor his Rage prevails, nor yet his Strength
Can his Escape procure; all proffer'd Food
He growling flies, forgets all thirst of Blood,
And, in Disdain of his Captivity,
Resolves in sullen Silence there to dy.
So that great King, to whom, not long before,
Rich Gems were from the Erythræan Shore,

For Tribute brought: to whom, with Lions Tame,
And towred Elephants, Getulians came,
And, prostrate at his Feet, Obedience pay'd:
At first in Love, then War, a Captive made,
In a dark Dungeon dy'd, and the sole Fame,
That he 'gainst Scipio fought, preserves his Name.

But while, at Rome, their Triumphs still encrease,
At Carthage the sad purchase of their Peace
Shews them a Face of things, which they deplore
As much, as those deep Wounds they had before
In War receiv'd, and Zama's fatal Plain,
On which so many Libyans were slain,
And Hannibal disarm'd. For now they see,
That nor in Peace, nor War, they can be free.
Not all the Wealth their num'rous Conquests gave,
Nor Subjects, gain'd by Hannibal, could save
Their own at Home: for, while his conqu'ring Hand
O'return'd Sagunthus, and the Iberian Land
Subdu'd, and when his Troops Pyrenè past,
The Celtæ gain'd, and Italy did waste,
Their Victories abroad (still calling for
Recruits) as costly prov'd, as if the War
Had been in Libya made: onely their Fear
Of Utter Ruin was not then so near.

It was not now enough, that they had seen
Those wealthy Trophies, that had thither been
From Sicily, from the Herculean Bars,
And farthest Nations, in preceeding Wars,
By great Amilcar sent, transported all
To Rome, and there, within the Capitol,
Among Ægates Spoils, hung up, to be
Eternal Monuments of Infamy.
Their dreadful Elephants, that had, so long,
Against all stranger Nations, been so strong

A living Wall: with all the Arms, which there,
Since Dido first Phœnician Walls did rear,
Had been stor'd up, and had a Pannick Dread.
Over the Alps, and high Pyrenè, spread,
Are yielded to their Foes, with trembling Hands:
And conquer'd Carthage, now, as Naked stands,
As when Eliza first her Walls begun,
Or when enrag'd Hyarbas over-run
(Full of Revenge) her narrow Bounds, and, while
Her Ashes yet were warm, upon her Pyle
Fix'd his victorious Arms: Nor can they see,
By Land, a Period to their Misery.
Earth hath not space enough, whereon to lay
Their Chains, which now, extended to the Sea,
Confine the Force of Carthage; that no more
It can, from Africk, to Europa's Shore
Terrour diffuse: but melts into a Name,
Like Troy, in Ruin onely known to Fame.

That Navy, which (before the Fate of Rome
Prevail'd) had brought unvalu'd Treasures Home;
Which through the Seas, from East to West, had flown,
And where the Romane Eagles were not known,
Under its swelling Wings Sidonian Dyes
Had often born, and chang'd for such Supplies,
As Meroè, and black Syenè yields,
With whatsoe're renowns those spicy Fields,
Where Ganges flows; by which the Libyan Land
(Though they dire Serpents, in the barren Sand,
Plough up) as great a Plenty ev'ry where
Enjoy'd, as theirs, whose Harvest, twice a Year,
Their Garners fills: is, by this Storm of Fate,
Contracted to so small a Number, that
They now despair, e're more, with Hostile Oars,
To fright from Latian, and Sicilian Shores

The trembling Nymphs; but must, for ever, stand
Condemn'd, as Slaves, to a parch'd Barren Land.

As some hot Plague, by a Malignant Star
Diffus'd into an Universal War,
First the wide Air infects, next Beasts, and then
The Commons, till, at last, the Best of Men
Are snatch'd away, by the same cruel Fate,
Which none but Heav'n knows, where t'will terminate:
So, when the Romane Fury, in whose Hand
Alone, the Fate of Carthage seem'd to stand,
Had strip'd them of all Force by Land, and Sea,
And nothing now was left, but to Obey;
At length, their Spirits, by a dreadful Doom,
Are seiz'd: the Best of all their Youth to Rome
(As Pledges of their Faith) must strait be born,
And Libyan Mothers Tears become the Scorn
Of Latian Dames. It had been better they
(While Hannibal in Italy did stay)
Had granted been to re-inforce his Bands.
They then their Country not with fetter'd Hands,
But arm'd had left, and might have Fighting dy'd,
Nor thus been Sacrificed to the Pride
Of an Insulting Fo, whose Malice knows
No Bounds; but, fed, still more Insatiate grows.

But now the Fatal Day arrives, and Fears)
Wound ev'ry Breast, fill ev'ry Eye with Tears.
The weeping Mothers with dishevel'd Hair
Run through the Streets, and, vainly, beat the Air
With loud Complaints. Sometimes they call upon
The Gods: then strait exclaim, that there are None,
At least, that they are Deaf; else might their Tears
Prevail, and their Oppressions touch their Ears.
Sometimes the Authour of the War, and those
Infernal Altars, that, at first, their Foes

Provok'd, they curse. Sometimes those Men they blame,
Whose Envy, without Reason, to the Name
Of Hannibal, had fix'd Victorious Rome
In that great Height, and brought those Ruins Home,
Which Jove himself once fear'd; whose onely Hand,
With Thunder Arm'd, could Hannibal withstand,
And keep the Capitol. But Oh (Ye Gods)
What boots it now (say they) that so great Ods
Carthage did once enjoy, above the World:
Since, from the Height of Glory, She is hurl'd
Into the depth of Shame. But thus you still
Are Prone to give things Great, yet never will
Preserve them so. In vain (alass!) the Toils
Of our great Fathers have, with wealthy Spoils,
Enrich'd your Temples, and, with noble Wounds,
The Pow'r of Carthage stretch'd beyond the Bounds
Of Africa, and with such dreadful Aw
Her Name had spread, that all the World their Law
Expected from her Hand. But (Oh!) how small
A Shadow, now, remains to Us of all
Our former Glories? We are Mothers made,
That, by this Blessing, We might be betray'd
To a far greater Curse, and add more weight
Unto our Ruin, and Unhappy Fate.
Had these upon your cruel Altars dy'd,
Religion might perhaps have satisfi'd
Our Loss, and We, at least, might Home return
With this Content, that in their Native Urn
Their Ashes were preserv'd. But these are born
To be the Grief of Carthage, and the Scorn
Of Rome, whose now they are, and not our Own:
Nor will they be for such hereafter known;
But taught their Country's Manners to disclaim,
And bury in the Gown the Tyrian Name.

As thus they sadly to the Gods complain,
The Winde the Romane Navy to the Main
Invites. The Masters for the Captives call;
While at their Feet the weeping Parents fall,
And, Prostrate, thus implore. If yet that Ire
Appeased be, that did your Breasts inspire
At Zama's Field; wherein our Fates gave Way
To Yours, and Crown'd You with an happy Day;
Now mildely hear our Pray'rs: and, as you are
Rais'd, by the Gods, to this great Height in War,
That by their Blessing You may Higher rise,
Be Merciful, like them: do not despise
The Tears of such, as fall; their Cries the Scale
Of Fortune often turn, and may prevail
With Heav'n to break the Chain of your Success,
If, whom the Gods afflict, You shall oppress.
The bravest Souls no longer will pursue
Their Rage, then while it serves them to subdue.
And, when the Conquer'd do submit, they finde
A Sanctuary in a Noble Minde.
When therefore our Unhappy Sons shall come
(Sons not for Carthage born, but Conqu'ring Rome)
Within your Walls, Oh! be not too Severe,
Lay easy Chains upon them, think they were
Once free, as You: so may a better Fate
Your Issue bless; so may You propagate
Your lasting Names to Honour, and, near crost
By Fortune, keep that Freedom We have lost.
As thus they plead, from their Embraces torn,
Two hundred Noblest Tyrian Youths are born
Away to Sea, at Rome ordain'd to stand
The faithful Plegdes of their Native Land.

But, while all other Breasts with Grief, and Care,
Are fill'd, and ev'ry one, with sad Despair

Of future Liberty, resolves the Yoke
To bear with Patience, and no more provoke
Those Arms, which, after such expense of Blood,
And Wealth (too late, alass!) they understood
Superiour to their own: Revenge puts on
Amilcar's Shape, and thus, by Night, his Son
Excites to War. O Hannibal, canst Thou
(After the Fame of thy so early Vow
To prosecute this War) sit still, and see,
By Rome, upon thy Country's Liberty
Such heavy Yoaks impos'd? Canst thou, my Son,
Tamely desist from what Thou hast begun?
And see that Wealth, which, from so many Lands,
By our great Ancestours Victorious Hands
Together heap'd, enabled Thee to spread
Thy Conqu'ring Ensigns o're Pyrene's Head;
And o're the pathless Alps to make thy Way,
Become the Prize of Rome; Yet thou that Day
Survive? At length, awake, and let me finde
Thy Valour, fierce, and active, as the Winde
On Adriatick Seas. Let not the Tears
Of trembling Mothers, or the vainer Fears
Of Utter Ruin, move thee to conspire
So much with Hanno's Wish, or Rome's Desire.
That Hannibal should now sit still, is more,
Then all the Victories they had before:
Those onely did subdue thine Arms; but This
Over thy Minde a greater Conquest is:
And all, that Scipio now, at Rome, doth boast;
Where he at Zama, when the Field was lost,
Thee flying shews, and, afterward regains,
And thy Pale Image loads with golden Chains,
(As he great Syphax led in Triumph) Thou,
Resolving thus to bear it, dost allow.

Nor will the World condemn what Hanno saies;
While, in the Senate, he upon thee layes
The Crimes of all these Ills; records the Rites,
We once perform'd to Hecatè; excites
The People's Rage, while he doth on them call:
Where now is your Victorious Hannibal?
Where is that Arm, that could alone defend
These Walls? that durst with Fate it self contend?
Where are Sagunthus Spoils? or those, which He
From Spain hath brought? or conquer'd Italy?
If yet that Arm survive, let him from Rome,
Rescue our Captiv'd Sons, and bring them Home.
Or if those Spoils, which he at Thrasimen,
Trebia, or Cannæ gain'd, remain; why then
Do We for our exacted Talents grieve?
Nor rather, with that Wealth, our selves relieve?
But, if, consum'd through his Ambition, We
Have, with our Riches, lost our Liberty;
Why should that guilty Head, to whom we ow
These Ruins, and the Curse of all our Wo,
Amongst Us still remain; and, with a Pride,
Great as the Conquerours, our Tears divide?
Consider this: and, as infused Oil
Doth heighten Flames, hence let thy Fury boil;
Create more Spleen within Thee; make Thee rude,
As Caucasus, till thou hast fully shew'd
Th'amazed World, thou wert not born to bear
The Romane Yoak. But do, what others dare
Not think, and 'gainst the Latine Name, where're
There shall be War, do Thou in Arms appear;
Till Fate absolve thy Vow, and Thou shalt be
Crown'd with a Noble Death, or Victory.

When thus the Fury had her self inspir'd
Into his Soul, with Night She strait retir'd

To Hell. While He, now void of all Repose,
Soon as from Tithon's Bed Aurora rose,
To that fam'd Stygian Temple doth repair,
Where, when a Childe, his Father made him swear
The War. Soon as He comes into the Grove,
Strange, horrid Murmurs, round about him, move.
The Goddess call'd to Minde, what he before
Had offer'd there, and now expected more.
Then over all the Place a Cloud She casts,
Which thither calls the Night again, and blasts
The rising Day. At length, She open throws
The Temple-Gates, while on he, Fearless, goes;
Till at the Entrance, from her Gloomy Cell,
The aged Priestess thus bespeaks him. Tell,
What is it, that so early hither Thee
Invites? and, who thou art? For well I see
Thou com'st to offer to the Pow'rs below,
And therefore, with this Horrour, they foreshow
Thy Welcome: tell me then, what is thy Name?

Though, now, thou know'st Me not, I'me sure my Fame
(Said Hannibal) long since hath fill'd thine Ears.
I am that Hannibal, who, e're my Years
Two Lustra had fulfill'd, a War, before
These Stygian Altars, 'gainst the Romans swore;
The rest the World hath told Thee: and I now
(In prosecution of that Sacred Vow)
Am come to know, what yet remains by Me
To be pursu'd, and what the Fates decree.
The Priestess thus. I know Thee now: nor can
The Universe afford another Man
More dear unto the Pow'rs, which we adore:
But we our Rites cannot perform before
The following Night hath finish'd half her Reign.
Now therefore to thy House make haste again,

And my Advice embrace. For often Wo
Have of the Gods enquir'd concerning Thee,
Whose thread of Life is twisted with the Fate
Of Carthage, and in That her better State
Consists: and hence it is Imperious Rome
By her Embassadours, who, now, are come,
Will not so much for Masanissa plead,
As joyn with Hanno, to obtain thy Head,
Or cast Thee into Chains: therefore till Night
Returns, be Wary, and prepare for Flight;
And when Bootes hath his lazy Wain
Turn'd half about the Pole, hither again
Repair, and I shall then enquire the Minde
O'th'Gods, and what they have for Thee design'd.

Pensive with this Advice, strait Home He goes,
And, ruminating on his Country's Woes,
His Chamber enters, with a troubl'd Face;
When, almost drown'd in Tears, to his Embrace
Imilcè flys, and thus begins: What now
Thy Minde disturbs? what on thy Angry Brow
Creates that Cloud? which, wheresoe're it be
Discharg'd (my Hannibal) must Ruin Me.
I know 'tis War: for such the dire Alarms
Of lost Sagunthus snatch'd I hee from mine Arms.
So from my Bed, before the Night was done,
To meet their Sallies, thou wert wont to run.
While Fury arm'd thee, and pale Death did wait
Upon Thee, as upon the Hand of Fate.
But then Thou wert protected; Heav'n did then
For Thee, and Carthage fight: if now agen
The Gods would hear our Pray'rs, and bless Thee so,
How gladly would I yield to let Thee go?
But they (alass!) are Angry, and no more
Will lend their Thunder, as they did before,

Unto Thine Arm. Rome now their Ears hath charm'd
Against Thee, and Thy Fortune quite disarm'd.
Naked against the World Thou now dost stand:
All have submitted to Her Conqu'ring Hand.
Carthage is Hers, nor Libya, nor Spain,
Pyrenè, nor the Celtæ can again
Afford Thee Aid. The Macedonian King,
Who to our fainting Hopes appear'd to bring
Some Shadows of Relief, while He o'reran
The Bounds of Athens, and a War began
With that sad Omen, that Sagunthus turn'd
To Ashes, and the Abydenians burn'd,
On Pyles of their own Wealth, is forc'd at last
To yield to Fortune, and himself to cast
A Prostrate at Rome's Feet, and Peace implore.
Content with those great Acts, that He before
Had done, He now resolves, at Home, t'attend
His Fate: and, would my Hannibal now lend
A Pity to these Tears, Thou should'st no more
That Hand of Fortune try, which Thee before
In one Day thrust from that great Height, to which
The Toil of seventeen Years had rais'd Thee. Rich
In Fame thou art, and, though all else is gone,
That's such a Treasure, that for it alone
The World may envy Thee, and Times to come
Shall put thy Name in Balance against Rome,
And all her Generals. But what of Life
(After such Deeds) remains, unto thy Wife,
And Son should be allow'd: and, if thy Breast
With Thoughts of sworn Revenge be still possest,
(Since Fortune courts the Young, and Thou art now
In Years, to which She seldom doth allow
Her Smiles) derive thine Anger to thy Son,
Instruct him here, at Home, what's to be done

To perfect thy Desires, and at thy Death,
Into His Breast, with thy Departing Breath,
Inspire (my Hannibal) thy mighty Spirit,
That so He may entirely Thee Inherit,
And live the Fear of Rome. But, if Thou fly
From hence, and leave Us to the Cruelty
Of Our insulting Foes, Our Captiv'd Names
Will strait become the Talk of Romane Dames,
'Midst their Triumphal Feasts; or be in Scorn
Suppress'd, as if We never had been born.

This, with a thousand Sighs, and all the Charms
Of Kisses, mix'd with Tears, between his Arms,
Speaking, She sinks: while, with that constant Face,
With which He entred, in a strict Embrace,
He holds Her up, and thus replies; Thy Love
(My dear Imilcè) is so much above
The Value of my Life, that I would all
Those Dangers stand, which can upon Me fall,
T'enjoy Thee here: But this our Enemies
Will not allow. Domestick Treacheries
Have now so far above the Arms of Rome
Prevail'd, that I a Captive shall, at Home,
In Peace, be made, and hence in Chains be born,
(Snatch'd from thy dear Embrace) to be the Scorn
Of second Triumphs, and when that is done
(A Pride peculiar unto Rome alone)
I shall not dy like Syphax, from the View
Of all the World; but they will something New
For Me invent. Whatever was by Us,
Before, Inflicted on their Regulus,
Will be esteem'd too Little; I shall be
In Parts divided through all Italy,
And feel, in each, a Death, and yet not all
Their Malice satiate, when to Minde they call

The Fun'rals of their Friends. But, that I may
Their Plots avoid, and keep a better Way
Still open to my Fall, I now must fly
M'Ingrateful Country, or resolve to dy,
This Day, before thine Eyes: for in this Hand
Of Mine, alone, my Fate shall ever stand.
Nor shall the World believe, the Life, and Death
Of Hannibal depends upon the Breath
Of Rome. As this He spake, She stop'd the rest
With Kisses, and, reclining on his Brest
Her drooping Head (whil'st Tears, like April-rain,
Into his Bosom flow, by Sighs again
Dry'd up) Since so it is (said She) no more
Will I (my Hannibal) thy Stay implore.
Go, and be Happy! may those Gods, who Thee,
With such Severity, deny to Me,
Protect Thee, when Alone: go, Happy! may
Thy wish'd Return be speedy! But I Pray
For what I cannot Hope; those Gods, who now
Us separate (alass!) will not allow,
That We should meet again. As from her Tongue
These last Words fell, about his Neck She flung
Her Arms, and, after many Kisses past,
While both contended, who should give the Last,
With a long Silence (for with Grief each Heart
Too big for Language swell'd) at length they part.

Now Night the middle of her Course had run,
Between the Rising, and the Falling Sun;
When Libya's anxious Champion at the Fane
(All things prepar'd for Flight) arrives again;
There findes the Priestess; from her hoary Head
Tresses, like curling Serpents, overspread
Her wrinckled Neck: a Mantle cross her Breast,
In which forsaken Dido's Death, exprest

By her fair Sister's Hand, and there bequeath'd
As Sacred (with the Sword, She, Frantick, sheath'd
In her own Bosom) fastn'd by a Charm
On her left Shoulder, and her other Arm
Quite Naked, waving round a Stygian Wand,
With which, by adding Words, She could command
The Pow'rs of Hell, She meets him at the Door,
And leads him in. The Sacrifice before
Prepar'd, and She (no Minutes now delay'd)
Invoking some Infernal Names, to aid
The Work, strait horrid Voices rend the Air;
Some mornful Groans; some Sighs of sad Despair:
Then, as if Hell were near, the Noise of Chains,
With doleful Cries, which their inflicted Pains
Extort. For all the Ghosts of Cadmus Race,
Whom Guilt had stain'd, frequenting still the Place,
To the un-kindled Altars brought Supplies
Of Bloodlike Flames, which of themselves to rise
Appear, and by their gloomy Light, and Smell
Of Sulphur, shew, that they were brought from Hell.
At length, the Sacrifice was open lay'd,
Whose Entrails when the Priestess had survay'd,
She thus the Gods declar'd. “If Hannibal
“Be from his Country free, He never shall
“Become a Slave to Rome. His very Name
“Shall make the Syrian Armies own'd by Fame,
“And Italy once more shall fear, lest She
“By his Invasive Arms should ruin'd be.
“Scipio shall not more Fortunate at Rome
“By th'World be held, then Hannibal at Home.
“One Year shall give a Period to their Breath,
“And each finde Satisfaction in his Death.
“In Latian Ground shall Scipio's Ashes ly,
“On Libyssæan Hannibal shall dy.

With this ambiguous Oracle, his Minde
As Great, and High, as when he first design'd
The War, as if the Gods were still the Same,
Away he speeds? Thoughts of his former Fame,
And Victories, all present Fears allay,
And, with reviving Hopes, his Faith betray
To a vain Confidence, That He, alone,
If arm'd, could shake the World, and Rome unthrone.
Ambition, and Revenge think nought too great
For their Attempt, and, whil'st he doth repeat
The Actions, which atchiev'd his former Fame,
He counts all Easy, that's within his Aim,
Nor weighs th'Incertainty of Fates to come.
Those civil Factions, that, before, at Home,
Weak'ned his Arms, now, undistinguish'd, groan
Under that Yoke, which Rome for Him, alone,
So long prepar'd: so that ev'n He might boast
A Victory, when Envious Carthage lost
Her Liberty, and Captiv'd Hanno found,
No other Hand could cure that Fatal Wound,
But Hannibal's alone; who, now, got Free,
Would search the World to finde a Remedy.

Thus, chearful with the Gods, misunderstood,
(As a fierce Tyger, thirsting after Blood,
Far from his Covert rangeth, seeking Prey)
O're the Vocanian Plains he took his Way,
And, through the Thapsian Fields, his Course pursu'd:
Where (still the Gods resolving to delude
His Thoughts with dubious things) he Waking dreams
Of future Fates, and, swiftly Posting, seems
This Language, from the Genius of the Place,
To hear. Fly hence, fly Hannibal apace.
Let Asia, no longer now attend
Thine Arm, the World's great Quarrel to defend.

Delay the Mother is of Doubts, and Fears,
And he, that long the Yoke of Bondage bears,
Forgets, that he was Free, and entertains
A Servile Love of Safety with his Chains.
Thy Presence shall encrease the Noble Fire
In Syrian Breasts, and they, at length, conspire
'Gainst Rome with Thee, and Carthage entertain
An Hope by Thee her Freedom to regain.
That War, which Thou didst, with so great Applause,
Wages as Thine Own, is made the Common Cause
Of the whole World, and all Mankinde is now
Provok'd to be Assertours of thy Vow.
Of Romane Blood, all Seas, all Lands shall taste,
And Thapsus, 'mong the Chief, in Fame be plac't.

No sooner did the Blushes of the Morn
The Stars extinguish, and the Day was born,
When they arriv'd near to that Fatal Shore,
Where trembling Seamen hear the Billows roar
Against those Syrts, which, moving to and fro,
Bring certain Ruin, wheresoe're they go.
Charybdis, nor dire Scylla's Rage, so great
A Danger to Sicilian Vessels threat:
Sometimes themselves, above the Waves, they heave,
And stand like Promontories to deceive
Unskilful Mariners; strait, falling back,
Choak up the Chanel, and prepare a Wrack
Under smooth Waters, where, with all their Pride
Display'd, tall Ships of late might safely ride.
But Hannibal less fears the Treach'rous Sand,
Or raging Seas, then the more Treach'rous Land,
Which, Confident of better Fate, he quits,
And to a little Bark himself commits.
The Seas, as Conscious, that he was too Great
To be their Sacrifice, their Rage forget.

The Syrts retire, and the Conspiring Gales
Pursue the Bark, and swell her pregnant Sails.
The careful Pilot for Cercina steers,
Scarce knowing, that the Fraight his Vessel bears,
Once balanc'd the whole World; yet wonders Heav'n,
In that tempestuous Track, a Course so ev'n
Allow'd: so much the flatt'ring Destinies,
With a smooth Vizor of Success, disguise
Intended Ruin; that ev'n Hannibal
Measures, from hence, what ever might befal
Himself, and, while they yet the Africk Shore
(On which the Fates resolv'd henever more
Should tread) in View retain'd: I now am Free
(Perfidious Country) both from Rome, and Thee;
My better Fortune now (saith He) doth stand
Not in a Senate's Vote, but in this Hand,
This Hand, which (maugre thy Ingratitude)
Shall Thee (if Me the Gods do not delude)
Redeem; and Thou, at length, confess, that none
Can breake thy Yoke, but Hannibal alone.

Now from the flying Ship the Land withdrew:
The Libyan Shore descends; no more in View
Those Altars, which Ulysses once did rear,
To rescue his forgetful Friends, appear.
Unhappy Men! who in those Dang'rous Fields
Found out those strange Delights, that Lotus yields,
Whose Taste all other Pleasures far exceeds,
Man nothing more to make him Happy needs;
In this all dear Delights at once they found,
And Memory of Friends, and Country drown'd.
No sooner these were lost, but to their Eyes
Cercîna, 'midst the Waves, began to rise.
Approaching near the Port, some Ships they found,
Whose Carthaginian Owners, Homeward bound,

Soon as the Prince they spy'd upon the Shore,
Haste to salute Him, and almost Adore.
The Memory of his high Deeds, within
Their Breasts still liv'd: how great He once had been,
To Minde they call, and pay unto his Name
Those Honours, which, they know, his Merits claim;
Though now his State be less: for with a Cloud
O'recast, or else Eclips'd, the Sun's allow'd
To be the same in Virtue, as before,
When it shin'd Brightest; nor was He the more
To be neglected, 'cause the borrow'd Rays
Of Train, at which the Common People gaze,
And great with Envy swell, aside are lay'd.
He still is that fam'd Hannibal, who made
So many Barb'rous Nations to submit
To his Commands, and Native Rites forget;
While fierce Massylians, with Iberians, stood
In Fight, Revengers each of others Blood;
While rude Cantabrians, with the Celtæ, came
T'assert his Quarrel, and beneath his Name
United liv'd, as if one Clime their Birth
Had giv'n, and nurtur'd them on Fertile Earth.

Here all are busy to express their Care
To entertain Him, and to such, as were
Inquisitive to know, what did invite
Him thither, cunning, He, reply'd: I might
(Indeed) have gone to Tyre another Way;
But none so near I judg, since I this Day
Must spend in Sacrifice, to th'Pow'rs above,
That what I there must prosecute, may prove
Propitious to the State, which thither Me
Hath sent, and since, within this Island, We
Few Trees for Shelter finde, let Me entreat
Your Sails, this Day, to shroud Us from the Heat

O'th'scorching Sun. No sooner said, but all
Their Hands employ; some from the Masts let fall
The Sails; some lift them with their Yards to Land,
On which extended streight, for Tents, they stand.
And now whatever Rare the Isle affords,
Makes up the Feast, and round the hast'ned Boards
Lyæus flows: and first, To Liberty
A Bowl is crown'd, which all as greedily
Quaff off, as if in it they thought to finde
Their Wish, and Sense of Bondage from the Minde
Expel. And, as the sparkling Liquour warms
Their Blood, each man, as if he were in Arms,
Defies the Pow'r of Rome; now scorns to bear
That Yoak, which, in a Sober mind, his Fear
Would prompt him to imbrace, and what before
He durst not Think, he now dares Act, and more.
All former Fears are banish'd: This exclaims
'Gainst Hanno's Pride; and That his Countrey blames
For want of Courage, bids the Prince again
Attempt to take away that Fatal Stain,
For which, as in th'inflaming Juice he steeps
His Brains, he in a Drunken Pity weeps.

But Hannibal, whose Thoughts were far from thence
Remov'd, and entertain'd a nobler Sense
Of what they suffer'd, then themselves, mean while,
Looks on their Follies with a scornful Smile,
And, with repeated Cups, still feeds the Flame;
Untill, as he design'd, he overcame
Their Strength, and, while their Hands as yet retain'd
The Blushing Bowls, Sleep all their Senses chain'd.

The End of the First Book of the Continuation.

The Second Book.

The Argument.

To Hannibal Isalces doth relate
King Masanissa's Love, and the sad Fate
Of Sophonisba. Rome dreads the Report
Of a new War. In the Ephesian Court
Scipio, and Hannibal are entertain'd,
And meet, as Friends. The City, Temple, and
Its Wealth describ'd. Great Alexander's Deeds
Eumolpus sings. Whence a Discourse proceeds,
Who the best Captains were. Past Actions are
Revolv'd. The King resolves upon a War.

While thus pretended Piety beguiles
The Vulgar, and the glad Deceiver smiles
At the Success; Secure, that none could bear
The Tidings of his Flight, before the Fear
Of being stop'd was past, to Sea again
He hastens, hoises Sail, while yet the Reign

Of Night continu'd, and the Tyrian Star
Lent faithful Beams to guide the Mariner,
And as, well pleas'd with what had past, his Friends
Discours'd, how much their Mirth had made Amends
For all Delays, his sure Numidian Guide
(Who once attended on great Syphax Bride)
Began. But He inspir'd above the Rest
To Me appear'd, who did so much detest,
And scorn their Names, who, through a shameful Dread
Of Dying, had submitted to be led
In Triumph, and, in Chains, before they Dy'd,
Had tamely Sacrific'd unto the Pride
Of Roman Conqu'rours. How He did declame,
For this, 'gainst Syphax! how adore the Name
Of Noble Sophonisba! who did bear
A Face'as Chearful, as I carry here,
(Said He) and, to avoid that Shame, was seen
To drink her Death, and fall a Glorious Queen.
I well observ'd his Zeal, and, I confess,
(Reply'd Great Hannibal) could little less
Then weep, at Mention of so dear a Name.
But since we onely have, by Common Fame,
Her Story heard, and You a Witness wore
Of all that past, to Us her Fate declare.

Then He. When Syphax was o'rethrown, and all
Numidia lost, through his Unhappy Fall,
False Masanissa less ambitiously
Aspir'd unto his Empire, then to be
Successour in his Bed, and when h' had gain'd
The Queen into his Pow'r (the King enchain'd,
And kept a Trophy to Young Scipio's Pride)
Impatient till h' enjoy'd so fair a Bride,
His Minde he thus discovers: If the Throne
Of Syphax, or Numidia's Wealth, alone,

Had been the Object of mine Arms, I now
Whate're the Gods, or Fortune could allow
To my Desires, possess'd: but know my Aim
(Fair Queen) is Higher, and a Nobler Flame
Reigns in my Breast, the Romane General
May this (perchance) an Happy Conquest call,
Because his Eagles, now, securely fly
O're the Numidian Plains. But nothing I
Have gain'd, though this late Victory restore
Whatever Syphax did, from Me, before
Usurp; though Hammon, and Tarpeian Jove
Conspire to make Me great, unless your Love
This Happiness confirm. For this did I
From Libya's to the Romane Ensigns fly,
Knowing no other Means to win You from
My Rival's Arms, and since He is by Rome
Thrown from that glorious Height, and can no more
Be Worthy held of what He did before
In You enjoy (since none, but He, that wears
A Crown, and in his Hand a Scepter bears,
Can Merit such a Bliss) that You may live
A Queen, and (what lost Carthage cannot give,
Nor Sophonisba take, but from my Hand)
Be still ador'd through the Numidian Land.
Accept my Love, by which, You can alone
Shun Romane Chains, and still possess a Throne.

To this the Queen (though an extream Disdain
Of what He oster'd in Her Soul did Reign)
Fearing to be a Spectacle at Rome,
More then to Dy, replies. 'Tis to presume
Too much upon your Victory, if You
Imagine it as Easy, to Subdue
This Heart, as late our Arms: and though, by Force,
You have already made a sad Divorce,

Yet know the Memory of Syphax Name
Will, in this Breast, admit no other Flame,
While He survives. But, rather then be led
To Rome in Triumph, I confess the Bed
Of any born of Libyan Blood may be
Prefer'd: yet, if the adverse Fates decree,
That, to avoid that Shame, I must the Crime
Of hasty Nuptials add, a little Time
(Me thinks) you ought, in Justice, to allow,
To expiate, with Tears, my former Vow.

With this Reply, which neither gave Assent
To his Demand, nor yet deny'd, Her Tent
He quits, advising Her to shun Delays,
In her Resolve; for that, e're many Days
Should pass, the Captives must be sent to Rome,
And Her Consent would, then, too Tardy come.

At these last Words, as when our Libyan Darts
A Tygress strike, at first, amaz'd, She starts,
And growling stands, but when the wounding Steel
Is deeply fix'd, and She begins to feel
The Anguish of a Wound, She rends the Air
With Cries, and, lab'ring with her Teeth to tare
The Weapons forth, augments her Pain, then flies
To some known Covert, and there, Raving, dies.
Struck to the Heart (as if She then had seen
The Gorgon's Head, or, like Amphîon's Queen,
Congeal'd to Marble) Statue-like She stands,
A while, and Silent weeps. At length, her Hands
Invade her Head, from which She, frantick, tears
The lovely Hair, and, furiously, impairs
The Beauty of that Face, which by two Kings
Had been ador'd. At last, Her self She flings
Upon her Bed, and, with a mournful Cry,
On her dear Syphax calls. Which hearing, I

Stept in, and found her turning to and fro,
Her Eyes: now dry, and fir'd with Anger, so,
When Pentheus scorn'd the Trieterick Feast,
Agave's Looks Her inward Rage exprest.
Amaz'd, a while, I Silent stood: till She,
Sighs making Way for Words, at length to Me
Her Speech directs. 'Tis not, because Uncrown'd,
(Isalces) that I grieve; a deeper Wound
My Soul afflicts, and I am wrack'd between
Two dire Extreams. Oh! had I never seen
Numidia's Court, or had I ne're been led,
By Hymen's Tapers, to my Syphax Bed,
The World, perhaps, had never heard that one,
Born of Great Hasdrubal, was from a Throne
To Rome a Captive led, but I must now
(Oh cruel Fate!) renounce my Nuptial Vow,
To yield up (what my Lord esteem'd above
Numidia's Throne) the Treasure of my Love
To Masanissa, and in his Embrace
Those Sacred Ties dissolve, or in the Face
Of Rome, the greatest Trophy of the War,
Exposed be, and the Triumphal Car
Of the proud Conquerour, in Chains attend.
Ye Gods! what greater Mischief can Ye send
Upon this Head? Your Thunder cannot give
A Blow so Fatal, if you let Me live
To see that Day. As thus She spake, her Eyes,
With sudden Streams of Tears, her Tongue surprize.

When I perceiv'd, that Masanissa's Flame
(Though yet an Enemy) was still the same,
He had before profess'd; hoping the Charms
Of such a Beauty might regain his Arms
To Carthage, as they Syphax had withdrawn
From Romane Leagues, after a Solemn Pawn

Of Faith, before the Gods: I thus begun.

Had Heav'n left any other Means to shun
The Pow'r of Rome, and that prodigious Shame,
Which proudly they on all of Tyrian Name
Inflict, I should resolve, whate're it be,
To share Your Fortune. But since, now, You see
The Conquerour your Captive is, You may
Redeem your Self, and give a better Day
To Your lost Country. 'Twas for this alone,
Hasdrubal plac'd you on Numidia's Throne,
The Cause is still the Same, nor is't a Crime,
Which Fate Necessitates, and which in Time
You may a Signal Piety avow
To all the World. Ev'n Syphax will allow
It such, and dy Content, if You restore
Entire to Libya what She lost before.

Perswaded thus; as when a Sea-man findes
Nothing, but certain Ruin from the Windes,
Which on the Ocean storm, resolv'd no more
To trust their Fury, for some Neighb'ring Shore
He steers, and, to secure Himself, doth choose,
Upon a Sand, the lab'ring Bark to loose:
So, from Rome's Rage, the Queen resolves to throw
Her self, for Safety, on a gentler Fo;
Who now approach'd, while She puts on a Face
Might move his Pity, and a God's Embrace.
So, when her Memnon dy'd, Aurora threw
Over her Rosy Cheeks a Veil of Dew,
Through which dissolving Chrystal, from Her Eyes
Day did more sadly, yet more Fragrant rise.
Soon as He entred, Prostrate at his Feet
She falls, and thus now sues his Love to meet.

If my distracted Piety did swell
Too High, if what I utter'd did not well

Beseem a Captive (mighty Prince) I here
Beseech You pardon Me, not wont to bear
So weighty Griefs, and, since th'Immortal Gods,
Above my Syphax Fate, on You these Odds
(Due to your Valour, and good Fortune) have
Bestow'd, whatever be my Doom, I crave
It may proceed from You. And as you are
A King, and with my Lord did lately share
In the Numidian Name, let Me not be
Expos'd to any Roman's proud Decree.
As I am onely Wife to Syphax, I
Would rather any Libyan's Mercy try,
Then trust a Stranger. But withall you know
What I, a Carthaginîan, Daughter to
Great Hasdrubal, may from a Roman fear.
If then no other Remedy appear
Within your Pow'r, I here beseech you still,
By Death to free Me from the Romans Will.

Scarce this (with all Allurements, that could move
At once the Conqu'rour's Pity, and his Love)
She had declar'd, when He wipes off her Tears
With fervent Kisses, and her future Fears
Allays, with Promise to preserve her Free
From Roman Hands. But pleads Necessity
(To be Secure) that Night to Consummate
Their Nuptial Rites. Unwillingly, to Fate,
And his Desires She yields, and at the Time
Her doubtful Heart, as Conscious of a Crime,
Calls back her Blood, then sends it forth again
Into her Cheeks (so shines a Scarlet Stain
On Ivory) asham'd to have it said,
One Day a Captive her, and Bride had made.
And now the Weary Horses of the Sun
To the Tartessiack Shore their Course had run;

When Masanissa, with all Sacred Rites,
The Presence of the Marriage God invites.
But no good Omen shew'd him to be there;
The Fire the Incense flies; the Altars are
Smooth'rd in Stygian Smoak; a dreadful Sound
Through all the Temple runs, and shakes the Ground.
And, as from thence into their Chamber they
Retire, the Holy Tapers, all the Way,
With Sputt'ring Flames (as if Alecto shed
Sulphure upon them) lead them to their Bed.
All this, intent upon his Mistress Eyes,
He either did not see, or did Despise.
Concluding what He should enjoy would all
Those Miseries out-weigh, that could befal
Before this Fatal Night was spent. The Fame
Of Masanissa's hasty Nuptials came
To Scipio's Ear; He, fearing to give Way
To such a growing Mischief, soon as Day
Had chas'd away the Stars, by Lælius sends
A Summons, and, thus sharply reprehends
His Levity. 'Tis my Belief, (said He)
That when We first contracted Amity
In Spain, and then in Africa, when Thou
Didst both thy Self, and all those Hopes, which now
Thou callst thine Own, to Me commit, that then
Something in Me thou did'st 'bove other Men
Worthy that Trust conceive. But I in none
Of all these Virtues, that did prompt Thee on
To seek my Friendship, more of Glory plac't,
Then in my Temperance: That with a Chast,
And Sober Minde, I could suppress the Flame
Of hottest Lust; and this, I then did aim,
To other thy rare Virtues might be joyn'd.
For trust Me, Noble Prince, We cannot finde

So much of Danger from our Armed Foes,
As from those stronger Pleasures, that enclose
Us round: and whotsoer'e repells their dire
Assaults, and can by Temp'rance his Desire
Within Himself Subdue, a Victory
Of greater Honour gains, then that, which We
O're Syphax have obtain'd. Those Noble Things,
Which Thou, with Valour worthy greatest Kings,
Hast in my Absence done, I did, of late,
To all of Name in Arms commemorate
With all due Praise, and still shall keep in Minde.
But I had rather Thou on what's behinde
Would'st with thy Self reflect, then Blush to hear
Me give't a Name. It plainly doth appear
To all the World, that Syphax was or'ethrown,
And Captiv'd by the Auspicies alone
O'th' Roman People. Whatsoever He
Possess'd: his Kingdom, Wife, and People, We
May challenge as our Prize, and none a Share
Of Right, can claim. Though Sophonisba were
No Carthaginian born; or did not We
Her Father Gen'ral of their Armies see:
Yet must She (who a King, that was our Friend,
An Enemy hath made, and in the End
Against Us drawn to Arms) be sent to Rome,
And there the Senate's, and the People's Doom
Attend. Strive therefore to subdue thy Minde,
Shake this lewd Passion off, so much inclin'd
To draw Thee into Ruin; nor the Grace
Of all thy Virtues, with one Vice, Deface;
Nor by one Crime deprive thy Self of all
Those Thanks, at Rome, for which thy Merits call.

Struck to the Heart (as if some sudden Flame
Were darted through his Blood) the Fire of Shame

Flies to his Face: Yet nothing He replies,
But strait retires with Sighs, and swelling Eyes;
And, knowing, that what Scipio had decreed
Must stand Irrevocable, sends, with Speed,
For Me, and with a Box, into my Hand
A fatal Poison puts, with this Command:
Bear this to my Dear Sophonisba, say,
That Masanissa was resolv'd to pay
That Faith to Her, which kindest Husbands ow
To their Dear Wives. But, since the Fates have so
Decreed, that They now countermand his Will,
To whom it is subjected; He is still
Resolv'd his second Promise firm shall stand:
And, that, Alive, into a Roman's Hand
She may not fall, advise, that with her Drink
She intermix this Poison. Bid Her think
Upon the General (her Father) and
Her Country: think how, once, She did command
The Hearts of two great Kings, to whom Sh'hath been
In Marriage joyn'd, and let Her Dy a Queen.
The baneful Drug to my Dear Mistress I,
With this harsh Message, brought. Prepar'd to Dy,
And with Undaunted Minde the Worst to bear,
That Fate could add, She, with Attentive Ear,
Listn'd to what I said, and, as She took
In her fair Hand the Poison, with a Look
Moor Chearful, then when She a Bride was made
To Masanissa, I accept (She said)
His Nuptial Present: nor is it to Me
At all Unwelcome, since (my Husband) He
Can nothing Greater on his Wife bestow:
But yet, withall, I pri'thee let Him know,
That Sophonisba would more pleas'd have Dy'd,
If, at her Death, She had not been his Bride:

For then my Country might upon my Tomb
Have writ, that, thus, I Triumph'd over Rome.
No sooner spoke, but to her Lips She joyn'd
The deadly Cup, and, Greedy there to finde
A speedy Death, swallows it; all and, while
We, Trembling, stand about Her, with a Smile,
Which made her Lovely ev'n in Death (her Heart
Recalling now the Blood, from ev'ry Part,
To its Relief) She sinks, and, as She lies
Upon her Couch, gives one Great Sigh, and dies.

As the Numidian this sad Story told,
The Day began to rise. They now behold
The Tyrian Coast, by which they Steer unto
That City, whence the Carthaginians drew
Their fam'd Original, when Dido from
Her Brother fled. Receiv'd, as if at Home,
With all the Joy, that could express the Pride
They had conceiv'd, in being near ally'd
To that Great Hannibal, who late the Fear
Of all the World had been; when he had there
Himself refresh'd, again He hoists his Sails
For Antioch: from thence, with prosp'rous Gales,
At Ephesus arriv'd; where, glad to finde
The Syrian King, who, with a dubious Minde,
His Hate, conceiv'd against the Roman Name,
Pursu'd, at length he fix'd, and by his Fame
In Arms, appearing like a Martial Star,
Guided his wand'ring Thoughts into a War.

And now, o're all the Syrian Cities, Fame
Her lofty Head had rais'd, and with the Name
Of Hannibal awak'd the God of War:
When strait the sev'ral Nations, which from far
Their Tribute to the Syrian Crown did bring,
And gave the Title, Great, unto their King,

Fly into Arms, and to th'Ephesian Court
The Princes, and Embassadours resort.
All promise Aid; secure, that He was come,
To stand a Bulwark 'gainst the Force of Rome,
And Asian Tow'rs defend with greater Odds,
Then all their Arms, or Tutelary Gods.
All his great Merits plead, and, fondly, raise
The Value of his Virtues with their Praise.
No Errours are allow'd in all, that He
Hath done. So little do the Vulgar see
A Fault, where they affect, or know to State
The Reasons of their sudden Love, or Hate.
Carthage (though now in Chains) Unpiti'd stands:
The Gods are prais'd, that her Ingrateful Hands
He had escap'd. For his late Overthrow,
And Fight, they cast not on the Publick Fo,
But Home-bred Treachery; as not the Crime
Of Fortune, but the Envy of the Time.
Envy, which still detracts from greatest Deeds,
And on the Ruins of the Virtuous feeds;
Which first, against the God's rebellious Wars
Had rais'd, and made the Giants storm the Stars.
She Honour still pursues wheree're it goes:
Wheree're it treads, She Stygian Poison throws;
That its fair Foot-steps quickly doth Deface,
And raiseth her own Trophies in its Place.

With this Applause the Court, and City, ring.
Some invocate the Gods, others the King
Importune to the War. Then strait their Bands
They List, and levy Troops in sev'ral Lands.
Nor were those Aids to Syrian Bounds confin'd:
But Names, and Nations to their Arms were joyn'd,
Who, when the Strength of Rome was greater far,
The Fates decreed, should in a future War

Her Pow'r, though back'd by all the World, restrain,
And with a Consul's Blood her Eagles stain.
With those the Medes, who ev'n on Conqu'ring Foes
Their Manners, and their Habit did impose,
From whom the Persians first Tiaras wore,
And, falling Prostrate, did their Kings adore:
Whose mighty Monarchs their Imperial Throne
Had fix'd upon the Walls of Babylon,
Till, weak'ned with Delights, that Empire, which
A Woman rais'd to so admir'd a Pitch,
By Men less Valiant lost, the Prize became
Of the Pellæan Youth, and crown'd his Name.

And, as if all, that Asia could prepare,
Where Hannibal appear'd, too little were
T'attend his Fate; as if the Earth alone
Too Narrow were, for Him, to Fight upon.
Though Europe gave her Aids, and Warlike Thrace,
Must'ring her Chariots, did the War Embrace,
Cilician, and Phœnician Ports are throng'd
With Ships for War, and those where Hero long'd
So oft to see Læander from the Seas
Rising (like Hesp'rus, when he sought to please
The Paphian Queen) untill returning Day
Reviv'd her Fears, and call'd her Love away.

But when the Rumour of so great a War,
So many Nations joyn'd, though distant far,
Touch'd the Italian Coast: as swift, as Thought,
To Rome it flies, and, soon as thither brought,
Fear through all Quarters runs, in sev'ral Shapes
Affrights their Mindes, commits a thousand Rapes
Upon their Sense, and greater Prodigies,
Then all before, abused Fancy sees,
What ever did Portend their former Ills,
Seems now again to fright the World, and fills

The People's Ears. Sometimes the Alps are said
To tremble, while Trinacrian Flames invade
Th'Italian Shore: as if, from Ætna's Womb,
Th'Infernal Gods, themselves, had threatned Rome.
Etrurian Augurs, strait, consulted are,
And, from these vain Reports, divine a War;
While Nature, sporting, to confirm their Fears,
Makes Lions bring forth Lambs, and Wolves teem Bears.
Then, as if Carthage had her Chains again
Thrown off, and arming her Revenge with Spain,
The Boii, Celtæ, and those Nations all,
That Rome had reason still her Foes to call,
Did Italy Invade: the Roman Dames
Run to the Temples, and with Holy Flames
The Altars Crown, and thus to Heav'n complain.

If these our Walls yet merit to remain
(Great Father Jove) if Sybil's Prophecies
Shall be confirm'd, and thou dost not despise
Tarpeian Tow'rs,: Ah! then, why should not We,
After so many Wounds, and Toils, be Free?
Was Rome exalted to so High a State,
Through so much Blood, that She might be to Fate
A richer Sacrifice? and must She fall
By None, but by the Hand of Hannibal?
Rather to those her Walls her Pow'r confine,
And with the Tarquins let Porsenna joyn:
Or to the Rage of Senones, or Flames
Of Brennus give Us up. Let not those Names,
That with such Valour have your Temples, here,
So oft preserv'd, and were esteem'd so Dear
To Heav'n, be now made Victims to the Hate
Of One proud Man; who, to accelerate
Our Ruin, hath disturb'd the Peace of all
The World. If Fates Decree, that Rome must fall,

Give Her a Fo, whose Virtues may exceed
Her Own, and let our Crimes, and Vices bleed
By a more Pious Hand, such, as from Blame
May free your Justice, with a better Name.
He, Perjur'd, from those Holy Altars flies,
Where Peace was sworn, and doth that League despise,
Which in the Name of all the Gods was sign'd,
And now his Arms hath with a People joyn'd,
Where We that Fate, which He at Capua found,
Shall undergo; where Vices will abound,
As Victories encrease, and We shall be
Lost, by our Triumphs, in their Luxury.
Thus will perfidious Carthage, not by Arms,
See her Revenge on Us, but Asia's Charms.

Mean while great Scipio, who their former Fears
Had drown'd in Carthaginian Mothers Tears,
(Whom Heav'n, to balance Hannibal, to Rome
Had lent, and in his Hand had plac'd the Doom
Of all the World) with gently-breathing Gales,
From the Italian Shore, to Asia Sails,
T'explore the King's Intent. At length, He came
To that fam'd City, where Diana's Name
In a fair Temple more Devotion moves,
With gentile Rites, the Thoantéan Groves.
No weeping Mother here to Heav'n complains,
While her Son's Blood the Cruel Altar stains.
But the bright Goddess, under Silver Shrines,
As Pleas'd appears, as when Her Brother joyns,
With full reflected Beams, her radiant Horns,
And, more then all the Stars, the Night adorns.

In a large Plain, through which Mæander brings
His Winding Waters, in a thousand Rings,
To the Myrtôan Main, the City stands;
First built (they say) by Amazonian Bands,

That from Thermodöon, with Moon-like Shields,
Victorious march'd, through the Trachéan Fields,
Commanded by an Oracle before,
To build a City, where a Fish, and Boar
Should, Dying, shew the Place; Fate was their Guide
This Way: where, sitting on the Ground, they spy'd
Some busily employ'd their Living Prey
To broil, late taken from th'adjoyning Sea.
When strait a Fish throws, with a sudden Leap,
A burning Coal, upon a Neighb'ring Heap
Of Straw; which turn'd to Flame, a sleeping Boar
Beneath it they beheld. Earth None before
More Terrible had bred; as Big, as that,
Which both Diana's, and Althæa's Hate
On Meleager drew. But this was there
With better Omen found, t'Instruct them, where,
The Goddess would on Earth most Pleas'd abide,
And make fam'd Ephesus great Asia's Pride.
They all, amaz'd, his weighty Bulk admire:
And, as He, Grunting, starteth from the Fire,
A ready Hand a well-aim'd Jav'lin throws,
Which in his Shoulder fix'd (as He arose)
A Deadly Wound. But yet awhile He fled,
And they with Shouts pursu'd, till, falling Dead,
The Oracle was by his Death fulfill'd,
And they their City there resolv'd to build.

Now do the Sacred Ploughs the Walls design,
And to the Stars the lofty Turrets joyn
Their shining Tops. The Goddess to renown,
And to Immortalize their Labours, down
From Heav'n her Image sent, which with it more
Of Riches brought, then if another Show'r
(Like that of Danäe's) Jove powr'd again
Upon the Place: or, if to Silver Rain

The very Stars dissolv'd. For soon as Fame
The Presence of the Goddess, and her Name
Through Asia had divulg'd: Devotion brings
From Ganges, and Hydaspes greatest Kings,
Who sweetest Spices, which their Fields adorn,
Cull'd from the Bosom of the Rising Morn,
With Gold, and Ivory, devoutly lay
Upon her Shrine, and as their Tribute pay
All Treasures, that the Womb of Asian Earth
Enrich: all, that the Seres, at the Birth
Of Day, could gather from their silken Trees:
What the Sabæan, or Arabian sees,
Dropping from fragrant Boughs: with whatsoe're
From shining Rocks, or Shells the Indians bare
To Eastern Kings, into the Sacred Fane
Are heap'd: which now no longer can contain
Its Wealth. And therefore they a Work begun,
Then which the Rising, nor the falling Sun,
None greater view'd; whose Structure did excell,
What ever Fame of Babylon doth tell,
Or Pharian Pyramids; which by one Age
Could not accomplish'd be, but did engage
Succeeding Kings, who in that Work alone
Employ'd the Riches of the Syrian Throne,
And puzzled Art, to finde out Waies, to show
Their Pious Bounty. There, as White as Snow,
Tall, polish'd Alablaster Pillars shine
(As purest Emblems of that Pow'r Divine,
Was there ador'd) upon whose carved Heads
An Ebon Roof the curious Builder spreads.
This, like black Night, hung or'e the Place, untill
Myriads of Silver Stars the Frame did fill;
And, to express her Empire in the Skies,
With a full Orb, a Crystal Moon did rise.

Through this, as Mother to Succeeding Day,
Clear Light flow'd in, and did at large display
The Temple's Glory. There you might behold
High Altars, not adorn'd, but built with Gold.
The Hearths were of the bright Pyropus made,
Whose Flames the Sacrifices on them lay'd,
Seem'd of themselves to burn: all other Fire
As vanquish'd by their Lustre, to retire;
All Gems thus were, or beautiful, or Rare
(As if their Native Quarries had been there)
In greatest Plenty shine, in ev'ry part
So plac'd, their Value is encreas'd by Art,
Their lively Figures as exactly stand,
Compos'd of sev'ral Stones, as if the Hand
Of some rare Painter, to express his Skill
In Colours, did the Walls, and Pavement fill.
Through a large Plain of Em'rads, with her Crue
Of Cretan Nymphs, Diana doth pursue
The flying Game: their Arms, and Shoulders bare;
Their Tyrian Vests tuck'd to their Knees, their Hair
In lovely Tresses, yet neglected flows
Upon their Backs: some arm'd with golden Bows;
Some carry Darts, some Spears, whose points, insteed
Of Steel, with Diamonds, make the Beasts to bleed.
This wounds a Panther, that a Tyger, this
A Lion kills, not any Hand doth miss
The Beast at which it aims, and thus with Chase
Of various kindes, they beautify the Place.

Above the rest a secret Chappel (where
The Eunuch-Priests alone permitted were
To enter) did delight, and Terrour move.
In a fair Fountain shadow'd by a Grove
Of varied Agats made, encompast round
With naked Nymphs, the Hart, Actæon, found

Bright Cynthia bathing; 'bout her Snow-white Thighs
The purling Waters play: with fixed Eyes
At first, He peeping stands behinde a Tree,
But Curious, anon, more near to see,
He farther steps, and stepping is betrai'd
By rusling Leaves. Startling, the Delian Maid
Looks back, and spying him, Anger, and Shame
To be so seen, at once her Face enflame.
As Red She looks, as when her Brother's Light
Deni'd, She doth Thessalian Dames affright.
And now her Rage no longer will delay
His Fate, but strait his Form she takes away:
Longer his Head, and Ears, upon his Brow
Large Horns, his Arms, and Thighs more slender grow;
No more Erect, but prone t'wards Earth he goes:
In all a Beast, but yet, alass, he knows
He is not what he was; when strait the Cry
Of his Molossian Hounds perswades to fly.
The Nymphs, all laughing, urge them to pursue
The Chase: He flies, they follow, and in View,
Pinch'd in the Haunch, (to shew Diana's Power)
He falls, and they their Master chang'd devour.

Here his two Guests, then which the World had none
Then Greater seen, whose Presence more his Throne
Renown'd, then all the Trophies he had gain'd,
The King with Chearful Welcom entertain'd,
And to their Eyes, as to invite his Foes
To a new Conquest, prodigally shews
His Empire's Riches, For no King before
That had the Syrian Scepter sway'd, did more
Possess: He was of all the Richest Heir,
That did Great Alexander's Trophies share,
And that vast Wealth not onely kept Entire,
But greater, which his Conquests did acquire,

Heap'd on his Throne. As if, to entertain
Those famous Heroes, Fortune did ordain,
That past, and present Ages should combine
To yield their Spoils, and in that Honour joyn.

It was a Day, when to commemorate
The King's Nativity, th'Ephesian State
With annual Rites their Loyal Joys exprest.
The King (as Custom was) a Stately Feast
Prepares: the Nobles all, invited, come,
And there the Fates of Carthage, and of Rome
(Scipio, and Hannibal) the Banquet grace,
And now meet, not to Fight, but to Embrace.
So when Ænéas fled from Ruin'd Troy,
And sought a fore in Conquest to enjoy,
Met by Tydîdes on th'Oenotrian Shore,
They laid aside that Fury, which before
Reign'd in their Breasts, which Xanthus Yellow Flood,
And the Dardanian Plains had stain'd with Blood,
And, with new Friendship, what they both had done
In Arms, repeat, since that sad War begun.
They now are glad each others Face to know:
Each counts the other Worthy such a Fo:
Whose constant Courage nothing of Success
In War could heighten, nor of Loss depress.
Whose Virtue in all Fortunes was the same,
And ow'd its Titles to no other Name.
Who, in pursuit of Honour, sought not to
Destroy a Noble Fo, but to subdue.
And, when in Arms, would do what Man could dare
T'attempt, and after Victory would spare
The Conquer'd Blood: nor vainly sought to praise
His own brave Deeds, and blast another's Bays.
Such in th'Ephesian Court these Heroes shin'd,
And with as free, and strict Embraces, joyn'd

Their Valiant hands, as if nor Trebia's Flood,
Nor Cannæ had been stain'd with Roman Blood
By Carthaginian Swords; Nor Hannibal
So lately had beheld his Countrie's Fall
In Zama's Wounds. Nor Scipio his Fate
Deprest upbraids: nor Hannibal his Hate,
At Stygian Altars sworn, discovers now.
But Sacred Concord on each Heroe's Brow
Sits, as Enthron'd, and over all the rest
Her Wings display's, t'inaugurate the Feast.

And now the Face of Mirth appears through all
The Court. Th'invited in a spacious Hall
At Iv'ry Tables sit, and richly there
Their Senses feed, with whatsoever Rare
The Asian World affords. The Seas, the Earth,
And Air, to gratulate so high a Birth,
Their choicest Tribute send, and all, that Art
To heighten Nature's Bounty could impart,
Was liberally employ'd. Amaz'd to see
The strange Excess of Syrian Luxury,
Soon cloy'd with diff'rent Thoughts, the Heroes are
Affected, and perpend the future War.
The Romans, pleas'd to think how weak in Fight
Those Arms will prove, which softned with Delight,
All Virtue so disarm'd: How easily
The Roman Swords, their Way to Victory
Would finde, where Honour led them on, and Spoils
So wealthy, were the Trophies of their Toils.

But Hannibal, more sadly thoughtful, calls
To Minde the Fate of Capua, and the falls
Of those brave Libyan Bands, that had so far
Advanc'd his Name, till a more cruel War
Of Ease, and Riot, at effeminate Boards,
Un-nerv'd their Valour, dull'd their Conqu'ring Swords,

Blasted those Laurels, that before had crown'd
Their warlike Brows, and, as in Lethé, drown'd
All Mem'ry of themselves, in these soft Charms
So lost, they quite forgot the Use of Arms.

As thus they ruminate, Eumolpus brings
His Iv'ry Lute, and to the warbling Strings
Accords his Voice, and chants, in smoothest Lays,
The King's Descent, and Alexander's Praise.
How first the Horned God his Libyan Grove,
And Sacred Springs, for fair Olympia's Love,
Forsook, and how, from that Divine Embrace,
Small Pella was by a Celestial Race
Renown'd, and while descending to the Earth
'Mong other Pow'rs Divine, t'assist his Birth,
Th'Ephesian Goddess, busyed wholly there,
Kept not her Famous Temple in her Care,
An Impious Hand, to build it self a Name,
With Sacrilegious Flames th'admired Frame
Destroy'd. But, when Lucina's Care had giv'n
To Earth a mighty Conquerour, to Heav'n
A future Deity, and he began
To shew the World, that he was more then Man,
By his great Deeds, to his Immortal Name
As humbly prostrate, as to the bright Flame
Of rising Day, th'admiring Persian bow'd.
To him Sabæans, and Arabians vow'd
Their richest Gums: to him the Parthians brought
Their Bowes un-bent, and conque'rd Quivers, fraught
With fatal Shafts: him all, from Ganges Shore,
To those, that Nile's mysterious Streams adore,
Their Lord obey'd, and, next the God of Wine,
For Wonders done acknowlegd'd as Divine.

But when he was for Earth too mighty grown,
And summon'd hence to a Celestial Throne,

Heav'n, that the Syrian Monarchy might stand
For ever firm, into Seleucus Hand
The sacred Scepter gave. Since none, but he
Was worthy to succeed a Deity,
Who could Himself subdue. An act that far
Transcends whatever can be done in War,
And Man Immortal makes. For, who the Force
Of Beauty can withstand, or can divorce
Love from his wounded Breast, may justly more
Of Conquest boast, then Gods have done before.
Yet He, when by expiring Sighs he found
Those very Eyes his Pious Son did wound,
That his own Souls surpriz'd, and that the Name
Of Stratonîca had the hidden Flame
Reveal'd (to shew how much a Noble Minde
'Bove Cupidinean Shafts prevails) resign'd
Into his Arms his Love, and rescu'd from
The hand of Fate, a Race of Kings to come.
Hence to our Royal Line this solemn Day
We consecrate, and grateful Honours pay.

Thus the Iönian sung; and as among
The rest, the lofty Subject of His Song
The Libyan applauds: the Romane thus
To him began. Though 'twixt the Gods, and Us,
Great is the difference, yet Virtue may
Raise Men, to those Felicities, which they
In Heav'n enjoy, and none so worthy are
Of that high Bliss, as those whose Name in War
Hath plac'd them here, on Earth, above the rest
Of Humane Race. Fate cannot such devest
Of Immortality. For, with Applause,
The World adores them, and obeys their Laws.
From these all Arts, and Virtues, that the Minde
Of Man enrich, at first took Birth, and finde

Their just Rewards. For when Immortal Jove
Had fram'd the World, though all the Stars above
In Order plac'd, and strugling Nature saw
All things created here, her certain Law,
And Times obey; yet, guided by their Will,
Mankinde among themselves a Chaos still
Retain'd. No Bounds of Justice to repress
The Hand of Rapine: Vices in, Excess,
Reign'd in all Mindes, the Names of Right, and Wrong
Unknown to all; the Virtuous were the Strong.
Nor then did Man to greater Good aspire,
Then what seem'd such, suggested by Desire.
But, lest a Custom, in Licencious Deeds,
The use of Reason, and Celestial Seeds
Should quite deprave; that true Promethean Fire,
The Breasts of some Brave Heroes did inspire
Those Monsters to subdue, and to compel
The too Licencious under Laws to dwell:
The Ill to punish, and the Good to Crown
With due Rewards. Hence Honour, and Renown
The Mindes of Mortals, first, from baser Earth
Rais'd towards Heav'n, from whence they took their Birth.
But since Lyæus, and Alcides Wars
The World with Trophies, and the Heav'n with Stars
Adorn'd, who (tell me) hath the greatest Name
In Arms deserv'd, and an Immortal Fame.

If such their Praise, if such their Merits are,
The Libyan replies: No Hand in War,
So worthy Fame, so mighty things hath done,
As the Peltæan Youth: whose Valour won
More Victories, then Time had Years to Crown
His Life allow'd: The Force of whose Renown
His Laws on farthest Nations did obtrude,
And Kingdoms, which he never saw, subdu'd.

For who, that heard, how great his Conquests were,
How small his Force, would not, with Reason, fear
Those Arms, which Persia's Monarch (compast round
With Troops, so numerous, that all the Ground
'Twixt Tigris, and Euphrates, scarce could yield
Them room to stand) subdu'd in open Field.
Scorning to Fortune, or to Night to ow
A Victory, He, in full Day, the Fo
Assails, while God, and Men together stand
Spectatours of the Wonders of his Hand,
And see each Macedonian Souldiers bring
A Nation captivated to their King.
But, not to speak of Battels, where his Skill,
And Conduct, all subjected to his Will,
No Town, no City (though the Sea, and Land
Conspir'd against his Force) could Him withstand;
Our Tyrian Walls alone the Glory have
To have resisted well: and that They gave
A longer Stand to th'Torrent of his Rage,
Then all the Persian Pow'rs, that did engage
Against his Arms. No Object was above
His Courage; whose Example would remove
All Obstacles, that others might deterr:
And though in great Designs he would confer,
The Best, he follow'd his own Thoughts alone,
And so made all his Victories his Own.
And may He have the Praise: for none hath more
In Arms deserv'd, perhaps no God before.

Next him that Noble Epirote, that came
To the Tarentines Aid, the Crown may claim.
His Courage, when a Youth, Pantauchus found
Above his Strength, though for his Strength renown'd.
While in two Armies View (as once before
His mighty Ancestour, on Xanthus Shore,

Great Hector slew) He, his proud Fo subdu'd,
And, to the wondring Macedonians, shew'd
All things, that they had seen in former Times
In their so glorious Prince, except his Crimes.
Nor were his Victories by Arms alone,
Where Fortune more, then Virtue oft is known
To give the Bays. His Wisdom Conquest findes,
Where his Sword could not reach, and or'e the Mindes
Of Men his Triumph gains; and thus he drew
From Romane Leagues Italian People to
His side. They thought themselves more Safe within
His Camp, then they in fenced Towns had bin
Under the Romane Laws. For he first taught
That Art, and Camps to their Perfection brought.

But if a Third you Seek, who hath no less,
Then these deserv'd (though Envious Gods Success
Deny'd) Me here, Me Hannibal behold,
Who with as early Courage, and as bold
Attempts, a War against the Romane Name
Pursu'd, and from the farthest Gades came,
To seek a Fo, which future Times might call
Most Worthy, to contend with Hannibal.
Not soft Sabæans, or Arabians, or
A People, that the Rites, and Toils of War
So little knew, that charg'd with rich Perfume,
More then with Sweat, or Dust, did more presume
On Numbers, then their Arms; or such, whose Ease
And Lusts, must prove the Conquerour's Disease,
And future Ruin. I through Nations born
In War, and nurtur'd in it, with a Scorn
Of Fate, and Fortune, or'e Pyrene, o're
The dreadful Alps, Victorious Ensigns bore.
And found that Fo, with whom I might contend
With greater Fame, who boast, that they descend

From Mars himself, and to the World no less
Appear, by their great Valour, and Success.
Nor was it, when some other Citie's Pride
With Rome for Empire strove, and did divide
Their scatter'd Force: but when all Italy
Her Strength united to encounter Me.
I shall not open those deep Wounds again,
Which then (an Enemy) I gave, or stain
Our Sacred Mirth with mention of each Flood,
Whose Streams ennobled were with Latian Blood,
Shed there by Me (and still perhaps, when I
Am nam'd, affrighted to their Fountains fly)
I'le onely say, more then three Lustra there
(In spite of all the Arts, and Arms, that were
Employ'd against Me) I Victorious stai'd,
And, (after many Towns, and Cities made
My Vassals, and three Valiant Consuls Fall)
Shook Jove Himself within the Capitol
With Terrour of my Arms, and, had not Rome,
By a base Envy of my Deeds at Home,
More then by her Own Valour, been reliev'd,
Our Carthaginian Mothers had not griev'd,
To see their Sons in Chains, but had by Me
Been made, what Romans are, at least, been Free.

To this the Roman, with a Smile, replies.
If Thee the Glory of thy Victories,
With these Immortal Heroes, thus hath joyn'd,
I pri'thee say: what Place shall be assign'd
To Me, who after I through Spain had fought
My Way, and, Conqu'ring, into Libya brought
The War, the Greatest of Numidian Kings
Subdu'd, and Captive made, and, on the Wings
Of that fresh Victory, tow'rds Carthage (where
But by thy Hand alone they did Despair

To be secur'd) march'd on, and, in one Day,
Took all thy former Laurels quite away.

'Tis true (said Hannibal) but, since the Fate
Of Virtue is, to want an Advocate,
If once Deprest, think me not Vain, when I
Those Merits plead, that are transcended by
Thy Fortune onely. Had I conquer'd Thee,
The World no other Conquerour, but me,
Had known, ev'n Those I nam'd their Place had lost
In Fame, and Rome the Triumphs She doth boast.

As thus they mutually their Merits plead,
The Sun began to hide his Flaming Head
In the Hesperian Main, and the opprest
With Mirth and Wine, the Night invites to Rest.
To which, when all retir'd, the King (whose Heart
Was fix'd on War) to Hannibal, apart,
Thus breaks his last Resolve. I should forget
My Honour (Hannibal) if what, as yet,
I have consulted onely, I should now
Delay. The Prosecution of thy Vow
Is with my State involv'd, and Rome shall see,
'Tis not thy Fortune We Embrace, but Thee.
That, which, through Servile Fear, hath been deni'd
By thine own Carthage, shall be here supply'd
By Me, and since we know how Various are
The Chances, and Events of Dubious War,
Why should we think the Fates will Favour more
The Romans now, then they have Thee before?
Fortune assists the Bold, and whosoer'e
Attempteth Coldly, loseth by his Fear.
'Tis therefore now decreed no more shall Rome
On Zama's Field, and Nabis Fall presume,
We Nations, great as any She hath known,
The Parthians, Medes, admired Babylon

Already have subdu'd and Warlike Thrace
(Where Mars inhabits) doth our Laws embrace.
My better Fortune, what thy Fate hath crost,
Shall give thee, and redeem what Thou hast lost.

This said; t'enjoy the Benefits of Night
They both withdrew: but nothing could invite
The Libyan Prince to rest. His thoughts pursue
His hop'd Revenge, and in themselves renew
The promis'd War. Impatient of Delay
He counts the Minutes, and desired Day
Implores. As promis'd Nuptials waking keep
A longing Lover, and quite banish Sleep,
Untill Enjoyment satiates his Desire,
And both gives Fuel, and abates the Fire.

The End of the Second Book of the Continuation.

The Third Book.

The Argument.

The Syrian Rome defies, both Scipio's are,
By choice, appointed to pursue the VVar.
Contagion wasts the Roman Navy, while
The Syrian Fleet's detain'd near Venus Isle,
By adverse VVinds. The Syrian Lords, a Shore
VVith Hannibal, the Cyprian Rites explore.
The VVinds again invite both Heets to Sea.
They meet, and fight. The Syrians lose the Day.
The Libyan Captain to Bethynia flies,
VVhere, to shun Treason, He by Poison Dies.

But when the Empire of the Night was done,
And sleep the Scepter yielded to the Sun,
The Ephesian Peers, as if the sprightful Wine
Had rais'd in ev'ry Breast a War, combine
With Hannibal, to shake off all Delay,
To hasten on the Fates, and take away

Their Fears of Peace, and strait the Syrian Kings
Defy proud Minio to the Romane brings.
Minio, sublime in Syrian Blood, then sway'd
His Master's Counsels; Him the World obey'd:
Nothing above him, but the Syrian Throne
He saw, all things, beneath it, were his Own.
Whatev'r was done, whatever was design'd,
Was not the King's, but Haughty Minio's Minde.
Thus, favour'd with High Insolence, He sold
Rewards of Virtue, all things uncontroul'd
Dispos'd. His greedy Avarice supprest
All Thoughts of Bounty in his Master's Brest:
The Name of Merit in that Gulph was drown'd,
And, as he pleas'd, the suff'ring People found
Ease, or Oppression, to such Mischiefs may
A single Favorite Kings, and Crowns betray.
When He a Period to the Syrian Pride,
And Hopes of Carthage, as he then defi'd
The Pow'r of Rome, had vainly giv'n: with Rage,
Which nothing, but their Ruin, could asswage,
The Romane Prince to the Myrtôan Main
Descends, and seeks Italian Shores again.

Soon as arriv'd, the Voice of War through all
The City flies. The careful Consuls call
A frequent Senate: Scipio repeats
Syria's vain Boast of Pow'r, and vainer Threats
Of a proud Favorite, and how the Name
Of Hannibal their Courage did enflame;
What aids by Land, and Sea prepared were;
What Carthage thence might hope; what Rome might fear:
All which in Counsel weigh'd, and War decreed,
'Twas hard to say, what Shoulders should succeed,
To bear that Burthen: Scipio was then
Debarr'd by Law to take that Charge agen;

A Name that so much Virtue did include,
That Hannibal could never be subdu'd
Without its Influence, nor Carthage cease
To emulate Rome's Triumphs, and her Peace.
Lælius great Virtues, through the World were fam'd,
And, where the Noble Scipio was not nam'd
Deserv'd the Bays. The Younger Scipio known
More by his Brother's Actions then his Own.
Desir'd to do, as He had done before
To vanquish Kingdoms, and by Conquests more
Then Years to count his Age. But some, whom fear
Of Syria's Force, and (what cost Rome so dear)
The Name of Hannibal, then mov'd, did stand
For a more knowing, and experienc'd Hand.
One whose great Virtues by his Deeds were known.
Supported by no Merits, but his Own.
And, such was Lælius held by Land, and Sea,
For whom Acilius, this Important Plea
Assumes. If We Rome's Safety seek, and more
Then Private Names, the publick Peace adore,
Whence Fathers this Dispute? whence this Delay?
Why should we leave to Fortune what we may
Prevent with Reason? when Distempers are
Grown Great, the Wise strong Remedies prepare.
Let not those Seeds of Virtue that appear
In Younger Breasts, be valu'd at the Fear
Of Publick Ruin We've already found
What Mischief Youth (not by a single Wound)
May through their Heat produce, and still do feel
The Anguish of those Wounds, the Libyan steel,
Through them inflicted: which, if now again
Torn open, will ingeminate the Pain.
One Errour all our former Ills recals,
And brings the World against Us to our Walls.

For Rome (alass) can boast no Strength of Friends
Abroad, but what on her Success depends.
Her Virtue onely must her Wealth defend,
Her Wisdom to employ it, her Best Friend.
Then let not Favour to a Private Name
Anticipate your Reason. I disclaim
All Envy to those honour'd Heads, that have
Enrich'd Us with their Trophies, and that gave
New Titles to our Fasti. May they live
Still glorious in them, and all Time survive.
But let not Us Heav'n's Blessings so confine,
As if Entail'd upon a single Line.
Our Laws have so ordain'd, that all, that are
Deserving, may in Publick Honours share.
Hence Libyan some; some Gallick wreaths have crown'd:
By sev'ral Lands, are sev'ral Names renown'd.
Our Fathers still the Burthen of the State
Impos'd on Shoulders, equal to the Weight.
The Greatest Heroes ever would contend,
When Prudence, more then Fortune, might commend
Their Deeds. For, though the great Alcides kill'd
Serpents in's Cradle, yet till he was Skill'd
Through many Labours, how his Strength to guide,
He never with the Libyan Monster tri'd
His God-like Courage. Let such Honours be
Bestow'd, when Dangers, in a less Degree,
Shall threaten Us, and when these Forein Storms
Cannot resist, but exercise your Arms.
What skilful Pilot, by late Tempest tost,
His Vessel torn, some Sails, and Tackle lost,
While still the rude Winds rage, the Billows roar
(Though now he hath in view his Native Shore)
Will Idle, too secure of Safety, stand,
And trust the Helm to a less Skilful Hand?

No; let this Senate's Wisdom so provide,
That what We want of Strength, may be supply'd
By Conduct: then, if't be decreed the State
Shall suffer, We may not be blam'd, but Fate.

This said; his Silence a deep Silence through
The Senate struck, and on great Scipio drew
The Eyes of all. In him it lay to turn
Their Choice to Votes, or Fortune of the Urn.
This did Young Scipio, Lælius that desire:
As confident, the Senate would require
A Man, whose former Actions might commend
Their Choice, and Rome upon his Care depend.

After some Pause, and strugling 'twixt the Names
Of dearest Friend, and Brother, while each claims
In his divided Soul an equal Share,
Thus Africanus doth himself declare.

I should forbear to speak, did I not see
(Grave Fathers) that your Eyes are fix'd on Me;
On whom a Province lies more Weighty far,
Then was the Burthen of the Africk War:
For there Rome's Fortune with mine own did joyn;
But this Intestine Conflict's wholly mine;
While, for my Blood, I 'gainst my Soul contend;
Distinguish'd 'twixt a Brother, and a Friend.
A Friend, whom Rome may boast, that he was born
In her Embrace: whose Virtues do adorn
The Present, and the future Age will bless.
Whom, as my better Genius (I confess)
I ever entertain'd: his Counsels still
Pursu'd as Oracles, and never will
My Lælius from my Soul divide. But now
Ev'n what Acilius pleads will not allow,
That to his Conduct we this War assign.
This, onely, to our Name, the Pow'rs Divine

Reserve. If greater Wars shall threaten Rome,
The Honour of Command will best become
My Noble Lælius; and, when War shall cease,
Hee'l be her Chiefest Ornament in Peace.
Though now the Title, Great, the Syrian King
Assumes, and to his Aid all Asia bring,
Yet, if the Libyan Captain be not there,
Too mean a Province that for Lælius were.
The Gods their Blessings, as the Stars bestow
Their Influence on Men, and Things below,
Do sev'rally dispense. Some Fatal are
To those, that be the most renown'd in War,
Yet by less Warlike fall. Not to repeat
Forein Examples, or to tell how Great
In Arms, ev'n by a Woman, Cyrus fell.
Things nearer to Us (Fathers) may compell
Your Wonder. After our best Captains slain,
Your Scipio undertook the War in Spain,
When scarce five Lustra old, and all those Lands
Subdu'd, where Hannibal those dreadful Bands
Amass'd, that shook your Walls. What since I've done
Becomes not Me to speak, whater'e I won
Under Your Auspïcies, was the Decree
Of Heav'n, should onely be atchiev'd by Me.
Nor censure me as Vain, who arrogate
So great a Partage in the Romane Fate,
To say, that, where the Libyans are your Foes,
You must a Scipio to their Arms oppose.
Carthage will ever threaten these our Walls,
Till Heav'n our Name unto her Ruin calls.
Then 'tis not, that I emulate my Friend,
But for Rome's Safety (Fathers) I contend:
And, if the Arguments of Youth disswade
Your Choice, let my maturer Age be made

The Balance of your Doubts, my Brother's Years
Mine own exceed, when I your greater Fears
Allay'd, with Victory; and, that again
You may the same assurance entertain,
Me his Lieu-tenant make, and fear no more
Those Arms, which I subdu'd for you before.

This said, loud Clamours, with a full Assent,
The Temple shook, and through the City went.
Thence through all Italy the swift alarms
Of War excite the active Youth to Arms.
No Region from those Hills, whose frozen Heads
The Stars invade, to where blew Neptune spreads
His frothy Arms about the Rhegian Walls,
Their Aid denies. The Name of Scipio calls
The most Luxurious from their Choice Delights,
And to meet Dangers, under Him invites.
All, who their Country; all, who Honour love,
His Ensigns seek to follow, and to prove
What Fortune, and the Gods for them ordain.

And now with num'rous Ships the Neighb'ring Main
Oppress'd, groans under their vast Weight, and feels
The Fate of Carthage from their brasen Keels.
Which, oft as the rebellious Billows rise,
Dash them to pieces: while the Winde supplies
With favourable Blasts their swelling Wings,
And to the Asian Coast the Army brings.

While Rome for future Triumphs thus provides,
Envy, (the Plague of Courts) not Reason guides
The Syrian Counsels. What the Wise perswade,
The Ignorant reject. The Courtier's made
The Souldier's Judg. What he concludes doth finde
Its Influence upon the Prince's Minde.
Not all the Mighty things, which Hannibal
Had done, which Rome ev'n trembled to recall

To Memory, could make his Sense prevail
To quit the Syrian Kingdoms, and assail
The Fo at Home. Though whosoever so
Invaded is, lends Courage to his Fo,
And Strength to vanquish him. But strangely Blinde
To his own Fall, the Syrian King's inclin'd,
Rather on his own People, all those Ills
To bring, with which Invasive Fury fills
A miserable Land. And strait his Fleet
Is order'd under Hannibal to meet
The Romane, where Iônian Billows move
About that Island, where the Wife of Jove
Was born, and by the Careful Nymphs was bred,
Till call'd by Hymen to her Brother's Bed.
She, although Conscious of the Fates to come,
Retaining still her Antient Hate to Rome,
Her Empire of the Air with Mischief fills,
And on the neighb'ring Isles sad Plagues distills.
Th'unhappy Season with her Wrath conspires,
'Twas when the Dog breath'd his Contagious Fires
On fainting Men, depriving Beasts of Food,
And turning into Poison purest Blood.
Th'attracted Air their Entrails scorcheth, fills
Their Veins with Flames, and, e're expired, kills,
Such hasty Fates, that Time doth scarce know how
'Twixt Life, and Death, his Minutes to allow.
While some, whom decent Piety invites
T'interr their Friends, for their own Funeral's Rites
Prepare, and strait from their departing Breath
Infected fall, and share a sudden Death.
The Romane Souldier, whose great Valour scorn'd
To stoop to Foes, whose Trophies had adorn'd
His Native House, who ne're before had known
To yield his Arms, now weak, and feeble grown,

Let's fall his Shield, and Conqu'ring Sword, and dies,
Ev'n in his Arms, disarm'd. This Plague's Surprize
So sudden is, that, as the Master stands
To time, with his loud Voice, the Seamen's Hands,
On his half-Deck he prostrate falls, before
The Word's exprest. Extended at the Oar,
The Seaman, in a lab'ring Posture, dies,
Not known, if Dead, or rowing, as he lies.
From this so fatal Coast, that did afford
To Death far greater Triumphs, then the Sword,
The Romane Navy, flying the Disease,
Retires, and trusts their Safety to the Seas.

But Venus, fearing lest Saturnia's Hate
From this might greater Mischief propagate,
If then the Syrian Fleet should on them fall,
Thus to her Aid the God of Winds doth call.

Great Æolus, whose mighty Empire lies
O're all the vast Extent, beneath the Skies,
Assist Me now. I ask not, That thou make
Earth tremble, and the World's firm Fabrick shake;
Nor that her Stony Entrails thou so wide
Should'st rend, that Ghosts below may be descri'd;
Nor that the Seas (as in the Giant's Wars)
Thou hurl in wat'ry Mountains 'gainst the Stars.
Juno for such Revenge perhaps may call
'Gainst Us, t'exalt her single Hannibal.
I onely covet to preserve mine Own,
And to effect the rest, let Fates alone.
She when nor Arms, nor Valour can prevail,
My Race with Hell, and Furies will assail.
Could She infect the Place I hold above,
She'd bring Her Plagues into the Court of Jove:
What's mine on Earth her Malice doth surround.
Thou see'st what gloomy Vapours, from the Ground,

She draws, Death hatching, in their pregnant Wombs,
And threatning Mischief to all's Mine, and Rome's.
Scarse can my Power, my sacred Isles defend.
My Cyprian, my dear Paphian Temples tend
To Ruin, and our Votaries, for fear,
Of dire Contagion, all our Shrines forbear.
No Innocence is spar'd: my Birds, that from
Aurora's bosom to my Lap would come,
And the Refreshments of the choicest Springs,
Would, billing, scatter from their Silver Wings,
As to our sacred Groves they would repair,
Fall flying Victims, in the poisn'd Air.
But this thy Power great Æölus can cure,
And, what is now corrupted, render pure.
Then purge Infection from this Ambient Air,
Make it Serene, and the lost Health repair
Of this once Happy Clime, and Neighb'ring Isles,
And thy Reward (with that, She sweetly smiles)
Shall be the fairest Nymph of all my Train.
No sooner said (for who can ought refrain
When Venus pleads) but Æölus unbindes
From their dark Prisons, the Etesian Windes,
Whose Active Force, not onely chas'd away
All noxious Clouds, and Mists, and gave the Day
A wholsom Face; but, with a constant Gale,
Against all Labour of the Oars prevail,
To keep the Syrian Fleet (the more to please
The Cyprian Goddess) in her Neighb'ring Seas.
Twice twenty Daies, the Idle Ships, before
The Island lay, and Anchor'd near the Shore.
When a Desire to see the fam'd Delights
Of Cyprian Groves, the Syrian Lord's invites,
And Hannibal to Land. No place did more
Indulge to Love, or Venus Pow'r adore.

The Goddess this to all the World prefers,
And is best pleas'd, when Mortals calls it Hers.
All Deities, that can Earth's Wealth improve,
Here pay their Tribute to the Queen of Love.
The Medows Flora, the Fields Ceres fills
With her rich Plenty, Bacchus crowns the Hills.
The greedy Swains no wealthy Orchards rear:
For Nature choicest Fruits doth, ev'ry where,
Largely bestow, the Bounty of the Soil
Gives all they can desire, without their Toil.
All other Pleasures, which Affection moves,
They finde most ample in their Sacred Groves.
Eternal Shades of Trees, whose Arms above
Embrace, and Roots beneath are making Love:
No Birds of Prey upon the Branches dwell;
Or, if they there frequent, 'tis strange to tell,
How soon their cruel Nature they forego,
And Kindness to all other Creatures show.
All in their Kinds are pair'd; no Bird alone:
No Turtles, by their Mates deserted, Moan.
Nothing, that Mischief breeds, can there be found.
Love onely hath the Pow'r t'inflict a Wound.
From Native Grottoes, that all Art exceed,
Their Chrystal Fountains sev'ral Chanels feed
With cooling Streams, which, as they murm'ring pass,
Still Verdant keep the Lover's Seats of Grass.
All this survai'd, their Temple's sacred Rites
To Wonder, and Devotion them invites.
The Chief was Paphos, which their Senses Charms
Above Belief. The Goddess there her Arms,
Her Chariot, harness'd Doves, and whatsoe're
On Earth she values, keeps. Her Trophies here
Of such, as 'gainst her Pow'r rebell'd, the Gates
Adorn; their Names, and Fate the Priest relates:

A Priest, who yet five Lustra had not seen,
Yet, since he three had told, her Priest had been:
But must no longer at her Altar stand,
Or take the sacred Censer in his Hand,
When from his Birth twice twenty Years expir'd;
For Youth is by the Goddess most desir'd:
Such all her Votaries, and Clients are;
The Aged seldom at her Shrines appear.
These view'd, and past; to a fair Porch they came,
Where Miracles the Deity proclaim.
Bodies to other things transform'd by Love,
Whose strange Originals their Change did prove:
Some, whose Obdurate Hearts had made them Stone;
Some, Beasts; some, Birds; some, Trees; their Figures none
Had lost, but, as when chang'd, their Shapes retain,
And Monuments of her great Pow'r remain.

Above the rest, an Iv'ry Statue stands,
Fair ev'n to Wonder. Hannibal demands,
What Nymph it was of that Celestial Form?
To whom the Priest replies. A Soul did warm
This Iv'ry once. The Storie's very strange,
Yet this fair City, and these Walls the Change
Attest. When first Pygmalion in this Isle
Arriv'd, a Votary to Venus, while
Our Cyprian Virgins such a Freedom us'd,
That jealous Lovers thought themselves abus'd,
He, flying Hymen, to his House retires.
But still retaining in his Breast the Fires
Of Love, his troubled Fancy to divert,
This Statue, with more then Promethean Art,
He frames, and, as all Parts he, wondring, views,
Desires of Hymen in his Breast renews,
And Venus thus invokes. Give Me (He said)
For Wife, as Beautiful, and Chast a Maid,

Great Goddess, and, if thou my Pray'r wilt hear,
A Temple to thy Name my Race shall rear.
No sooner said, but th'Object of his Love
Receives a Soul, and strait began to move.
Her Eyes no more are fix'd; but lively Raies
Eject, and first on her kinde Maker gaze.
Then on her polish'd Limbs, which purple Veins
Now warm, and soften with their beauteous stains.
In brief; She lives Pygmalion's dearest Flame,
And from their Nuptial Bed great Paphos came.
Who, when the Fates the borrow'd Soul again
Requir'd, his Iv'ry Mother, in this Fane
Vow'd to the Goddess, plac'd, and we still here,
With holy Incense, Honour, once a Year.
When this, with other Wonders, they had seen,
The Adyta they enter, which within
No Images adorn. But Venus stood
Alone, and kept her Altars free from Blood.
They Tears of Myrrha, onely, offer there,
And Sighs of Lovers. The included Air
Is ever warm, and wheresoe're they turn,
They meet soft Kisses, but no Lips discern.
Amaz'd the Strangers stand, though strangely pleas'd:
When them from Wonder thus the Priest releas'd.

The Goddess, for this secret Place alone,
This Miracle reserves, thus made her Own.
When She her dear Ascanius had convey'd
Up to Cythêra, and on Violets lai'd
The sleeping Boy; Her Aromatick Show'rs
Of sweetest Roses, round about She pow'rs.
Then gazing on his Face, her former Flame,
Her lov'd Adonis to her Fancy came.
Scarce could She, then, withstand his Beautie's Charms,
Scarce from his dear Embrace refrain her Arms.

But fearing to disturb the Boy's sweet Rest,
Her Lips upon the Neighb'ring Roses prest.
They strait grow Warm, and, rising from the place,
Turn'd into Kisses, fly about her Face.
The Goddess, willing that the World should share,
So sweet a Pleasure, scatters through the Air,
With a large Hand, the new-created Seed,
Which, as from fertile Glebe arising, breed.
But the first Born She plac'd within this Fane,
Which warm, as now you feel them, still remain.

This said, a sudden Noise permits no more,
But summons them abruptly to the Shore,
The Wind came fair: the busy Seamen weigh
Their barbed Anchors, and stand off to Sea.
The Time no longer stay will now afford,
The churlish Masters hasten all aboard.
Torn from Delight, the Syrian Nobles are
Displeas'd, and rather wish another War.

But Hannibal, whose great Heroick Brest,
A Nobler Flame, then that of Love possest;
With as much Joy the Fetters of those Charms
Shakes off, as Towns besieg'd, from Hostile Arms
Themselves by Sallies free, and all the Woes
That threatned them, revert upon their Foes.
Honour, which Noble Deeds in War attends,
Exciting his great Soul, he first ascends
His Ship, and offers to the God of Seas
Warm Entrails, then at large his Sails displaies.
Loud Clamours from his high Example, through
The Fleet are spread, whil'st all his Course pursue.
And now the Land retires, the Cyprian Shore
Is lost, and all the Flames which they before
Cherish'd, are quite extinct in ev'ry Breast,
Wholly with Thoughts of future War possest.

A War, wherein Rome's Fortune stood alone
Against the World: and were there more then One,
Might with them all contend. So Great was She,
Till lessen'd by her Crims of Victory.

Twice had the Sun descended to the Sea;
Twice the wing'd Hours had rais'd again the Day.
When they that Coast, where Sida doth obtrude
High Rocks (Her strong Defence) against the rude
Assaults of Raging Billows made: and there
Beheld what both their Wonder, and their Fear
At once creates. The Seamen think they've lost
Their Course, and touch upon some un-known Coast.
Or Nature, from the Bowels of the Main,
Some Cyclas thrusts, or floating Grove again.
But as they nearer came, within that Wood
They saw for Fight prepar'd, an Army stood,
So numerous they were, that what before
Their Wonder was, is now their Terrour more.
Their Order such, as when her borrow'd Raies
With growing Horns the Silver Moon displaies.
But her full Glory, their Guilt, brasen Prows
Surpast, and gave the Morning, as it rose,
A brighter Face; and, where they made their Way,
With a new Light anticipate the Day.

The Syrian Navy, whether clog'd with Fear,
Or their vast Bulk, though still they forward steer.
Went slowly on, till Hannibal so far
Advanc'd before, that he provok'd the War.
At his Approach, the Romane Souldiers fill
The Air with Shouts, that seem the Winds to still,
And fright Pamphylian Nymphs, while he goes on
Fearless, as if his Valour could alone,
With all their Force contend. When a Disdain
To see him dare so much, a Rage more vain

Creates in a brave Rhodian, who forsakes
His Station, and the Combate undertakes.
Both ply their Oars; both seek to gain the Wind.
While Fortune, that, in this alone, inclin'd
To favour Hannibal, extends his Sails
With following Gusts so, that his speed prevails,
And bears his Gally on against his Fo,
With so great Violence, the barbed Proe
Strikes through his Side, and with the furious Shock
Shakes his whole Bulk, as bruis'd against a Rock.
As from some Engine shot, the Splinters fly,
Through all the Ship; and One the Captain's Eye
So deeply wounds, it sinks into his Brain,
And leaves upon the Deck his Body slain.
With him the Courage of the rest doth dy,
And a base Fear perswades them streight to fly.
While Hannibal pursues, with Storms of Fire
From Pitchy Lamps, and Darts, as they retire.
Black waves of Smoak the flying Vessel hide;
And her sad Fate invites from either side.
Fresh Squadrons to the Fight. These to maintain
Their Conquest; those to take Revenge. The Main
Foams with their active Oars, and the Sea-Gods,
Affrighted, seek their most remote Abodes.
Fearing the future Horrour of the Day,
And bloody Seas, their safety might betray.

Both Navies now are met, Proes against Proes;
Sides against Sides they strike, and, grapling close,
So firmly, that, as Foot to Foot they stand,
And, with their Swords, deal Wounds, as if on Land.
But where the swelling Surges interpose,
Or Winds so, that the Gallies cannot close,
Darts, Arrows, Jav'lins, flaming Lamps they throw,
And Death, and Wounds, in sev'ral Shapes, bestow:

The Romanes now; the Syrians now give Way:
Yet neither fly, but equally the Day
Are confident to gain, and their Retreat,
Like Rams, doth greater Force, and Rage beget.
Till Scipio, to whose Fortune Syria's Fate
Must yield, and thence her future Ruin date,
A Squadron of Italian Gallies brought
'Gainst Apollonius, who too rashly sought
So brave a Fo. Like Thunder, tearing Clouds,
Their meeting Vessels crack: th'entangled Shrouds
Some, that would sink, above the Waves retain;
While others to the Bottom of the Main
Descend, and in their Arms the Souldiers drown'd
Finde a sad Fate without Revenge, or Wound.

But some, whose present Courage stood above
Surprize of Danger, 'gainst such Fortune, strove
To dy among their Foes, and leaping on
Their Decks, there, fighting, fall. Some backward thrown
Are lost in the Assault: others, whose Skill
In Swimming, and their Rage kept floating still,
Attempt to Board again. Eumenes late
A Captain, who his Tyrian Gallie's Fate
A while surviv'd, first seiz'd a Romane's Oar,
By which he nimbly climbing up (before
Perceiv'd) the Deck had gain'd; when strait, one Hand
Lop'd off, the other still his Hold maintain'd,
Untill a second Wound took that away:
Yet this sad Loss could not his Minde betray
To want of Courage, but his Teeth supply'd
Their Room, until a Fauchion did divide
His Body from his Head, which still did keep
Its Hold: the Trunck fell back into the Deep.

Th'Example of his Death made some to burn
With Rage: some, chill with Fear, their Proes to turn.

And fly. While Hannibal their Flight, in vain,
Upbraids, and hales them to the Fight again.
But, when they saw Pamphilius possest
With so great Terrour, that he first the rest
Forsook: no Sense of Honour could restrain
Their Flight. But, scatter'd over all the Main,
The base Cilicians spread their Sails to Fear,
Scarce knowing to what Land, or Coast they steer.

But the brave Libyan, who as much to fly
Abhorr'd, as those base Cowards fear'd to dy,
With three stout Tyrian Gallies, makes through all
The Latian Ships t'attaque their Admiral:
Thinking, that Act alone would best become
His Valour, when he seem'd t'assault ev'n Rome
Her Self; and from his Conquest, or his Fall,
The World might say, 'Twas done like Hannibal.
But Fortune the Success deny'd, and brought
A furious War upon him, where he fought.
Wheree're he turns, their Numbers him surround,
So, as besieg'd he stands. No place is found,
Where a brave Deed a single Arm may boast.
All Valour in their Multitudes is lost.
This Face of Danger his last Fury wakes.
As, when too close pursu'd, a Tiger takes
His Stand, resolv'd to dy reveng'd; he views
His Foes, all Wounds receives; at length doth chose
Against that Hand to spend his Stock of Rage,
That 'gainst his Life most forward doth engage.
So a Pretorian Ship, that 'bove the rest,
With Show'rs of Piles, and Darts did him infest,
With a Prodigious Storm he laies aboard,
And all the Plagues, that Libya could afford,
(To which her thirsty Sands do give a Birth)
Upon it throws, enclos'd in Pots of Earth.

From which (when fall'n, and broken on the Decks)
Myriads of Serpents rais'd their marble Necks.
The Souldiers, in the Fight, with Wonder are
Surpriz'd, as if Medusa made the War.
Their dreadful Hiss suppress'd all warlike Sounds,
And when their Stings, or Teeth inflict their Wounds,
Strange kinds of sudden Death ensue; while some,
Whose Nerves the deadly Poison doth benum,
Like Statues fixed stand: Others beheld
Their well-shap'd Limbs above Proportion swell'd,
Till their encreasing Bow'ls their Bellies burst:
Some seem t'have swallow'd Flames, and a dire Thirst
Firing their bloodless Entrails, to allay
Its Rage, they headlong leap into the Sea.
This through one Wound sees all his blood to flow,
His Veins soon empty made; That doth not know
Hee's hurt, nor feels a Wound, when Death strait creeps
Into his Heart, and he for ever sleeps.

But, though each Serpent thus a sev'ral kinde
Of Death inflicts, yet, to one Ship confin'd
Free from their Venemous Assault, the rest,
The Libyan with all sorts of Arms opprest,
Till Juno, strugling still with Fate (resolv'd
No Romane Hand should boast his Fall) involv'd
The Day in Horrour; chas'd the Light away
Before its Time; and over all the Sea
The Wings of Night extends: the Pregnant Clouds
Discharge their Cataracts, and from the Shrouds
The roaring Winds the swelling Canvase tare
The Romane Ships, as if in Civil War,
'Gainst one another strike, and now contend
How from themselves they may themselves defend.
At length dispers'd o're all the Main they flee,
And, by this Danger, from a greater free,

Safe to the Lycian Shore the Libyan came,
Reserv'd by Fate to be Bithynia's Shame.

But Fortune had not thus her Aid deny'd
By Sea alone unto the Syrian Side,
But, where by Land the King his Armies led,
His Ensigns from the Romane Eagles fled.
His Thracian Kingdoms now no more his Law
Obey'd, but the Ausonian Fasces saw
In Triumph, through their Conquer'd Cities, go,
And Him, of late their Lord, esteem'd their Fo.
His Grecian Friends the Leagues, that they had sworn,
Reject, and now his weaker Friendship scorn.
Scarce would the Syrian Cities entertain
Their flying King, at his return. So vain
The People's Favour, and their Faith, when crost
By Fortune, and his Pow'r a King hath lost!
This Levity the Libyan Prince revolv'd
Much in his troubled Thoughts, at length, resolv'd
No more the Dang'rous Envy of that Court
To try, but to Bithynia's King resort;
A King, who wanted then so brave a Hand
Against Etolians to defend his Land.
Prompted to this by his unhappy Fate,
Thither he speeds, and findes (alas!) too late
The Malice of his Foes could not extend
To reach his Death, but by a Treach'rous Friend;
A Friend, who to his Valour ow'd his Crown,
And, by that Fatal Victorie's Renown,
Made Jealous Rome to hasten on his Fall,
By such an Act, as all the World may call
Her Infamy. For he, that conquer'd Foes
Destroys, when he may spare, doth Honour lose.

But to the Romane Arms all Asia now
Submits, and all their Laws impos'd allow.

No King, but basely yields to their Demands:
No City, where they March, their Pow'r withstands.
And what did most with Hannibal's sad Fate
Conspire, his Ruin to accelerate,
Was, that Flaminius, whose rash Sire before
The Libyan Arms on Thrasimenus Shore
Renown'd, a Legate to Bithynia came,
And to his base Revenge the Senate's Name
Usurp'd. Their Peace, and Amity to all
Deny'd, that should protect brave Hannibal.
The King, consulting with his Fears, forgets
All Ties of Honour: on his Safety sets
A greater Value. Those late Trophies gain'd,
By which the Libyan Prince his Throne sustain'd,
Seem to upbraid him with a Debt, which He
Cannot discharge, but by this Treachery.
Those Glories, that too near his Crown dilate
Their Lustre into Crimes, degenerate.
They Guilty are, whose Merits stand above
Reward: in lower Sphears Men safest move.

These Thoughts drew on the Noble Libyan's Fate,
Whose strong Suspicious made him (but too late)
T'attempt Escape. The dubious Faith of Kings,
Which varies with the Face of Humane Things,
Gave him to fear a Change, and to prepare
Strange Lab'rinths under Ground, to shun the Snare
But all in Vain, declining Fortune made
Traitours of nearest Friends, and he's betrai'd
In all, that he designs. Arm'd Troops enclose
His House, and stop his Way wheree're he goes.

But his Resolved Minde 'bove Fortune stands,
And still reserves his Fate in his Own Hands.
Though now betrai'd He is, and left by all,
He's still so great, that none can Hannibal,

But Hannibal, destroy. And, to prevent
Surprize, into a secret place he went,
Where, first the Gods accus'd, and Hanno's Pride,
(That to his growing Conquests Aid deni'd)
The Syrians Folly, and base Prusias last
Perfidious Act (which all the rest surpast
In Infamy) with Execrations blam'd,
The Aid of his Great Father's Spirit he claim'd:
And a dire Poison (without farther Pause)
More Fierce then that, which, from the raging Jaws
Of Gerberus, upon Earth's Bosom fell,
When Great Alcides drag'd him chain'd from Hell,
He swallows down. This baneful Drug, before
Prepar'd by a Massylian Witch, he wore
Lock'd on his Sword, which, if that chanc'd to fail,
Might, as his surer Destiny, prevail
Against all Humane Force: and, as he found
It seiz'd his Vitals by an Inward Wound,
He these last Words expir'd. Now lay aside
Thy Fears (O Rome) no more will I thy Pride
Oppose, but with this Satisfaction Dy,
That, thus Degenerate, Thy self, wilt my
Revenge effect. Not Arms, but Virtue made
Thy Fathers Great; which since in Thee decai'd,
Thy Ruin must ensue. They, Nobly, scorn'd
By Treason to destroy a Fo, and warn'd

The Epirote of Poison, when he stood
Arm'd at their Gates, and Triumph'd in their Blood.
But Me, opprest with Fortune, and my Years,
Betrai'd a feeble Victim to thy Fears,
A Cons'lar Legate forceth thus to fly
From Life, 'gainst Laws of Hospitality,
And a King's Faith. But this vile Stain (O Rome)
More lasting, then thy Trophies, shall become:

And, when thy Deeds in War, in future Time,
The World shall read, thy Glories this one Crime
Shall blast, and all account Thee from my Fall
Unworthy such a Fo, as Hannibal.
More He'd have said, but through his swelling Veins
Death creeps, and binds in Adamantine Chains
The Spirits of Life, which with this Language ends:
His Soul to other Heroes Ghosts descends.

FINIS.

University of Virginia Library

[Could Hannibal, and Scipio, in whom]

TO THE KING.

Martial. ad Silium; Lib. 4. Epigr. 14.

SILIUS ITALICUS OF The Second Punick VVar.

The First Book.

The Argument.

The Second Book.

The Argument.

The Third Book.

The Argument.

The Fourth Book.

The Argument.

The Fifth Book.

The Argument.

The Sixth Book.

The Argument.

The Seventh Book.

The Argument.

The Eighth Book.

The Argument.

The Ninth Book.

The Argument.

The Tenth Book.

The Argument.

The Eleventh Book.

The Argument.

The Twelfth Book.

The Argument.

The Thirteenth Book.

The Argument.

The Fourteenth Book.

The Argument.

The Fifteenth Book.

The Argument.

The Sixteenth Book.

The Argument.

The Seventeenth Book.

The Argument.

A CONTINUATION OF SILIUS ITALICUS TO The Death of HANNIBAL, In Three BOOKS

A Continuation of SILIUS ITALICUS To the Death of HANNIBAL

The First Book.

The Argument.

The Second Book.

The Argument.

The Third Book.

The Argument.