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 |
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The Sixth Book.
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 | The Second Punick War Between Hannibal, and the Romanes |  |
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
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;
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.
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
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
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.
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,
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.
These Wonders shews, the wounded Troops, that fly,
154
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,)
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.
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
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.
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.
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
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;
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.
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
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:
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:
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:
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
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.
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:
158
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:
159
(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:
160
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
161
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,
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
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
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.
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,
162
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
163
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
164
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
(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?
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
165
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.
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!)
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
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.
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.
166
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
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
168
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
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.
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
169
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!
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.
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
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
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.
His Faithfull, Grave Advice: he strait withdrew,
Himself to render to the Libyans Ire.
Who, with a sad Repulse of their Desire
171
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?
These Words He, unrelenting, heard, The rest
The Noise, and Dashing of the Oars, supprest.
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
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.
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.
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.
173
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.
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!
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.
174
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
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.
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
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
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.
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
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!
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,
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
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
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.
To raise Recruits, and re-inforce the War,
177
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
178
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
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
| The Second Punick War Between Hannibal, and the Romanes | |