University of Virginia Library

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.