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 Sixteenth Book.
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 | The Second Punick War Between Hannibal, and the Romanes |  |
453
The Sixteenth Book.
The Argument.
The Libyan Army to the Brutian LandRetires. What full Obedience the Command
Of Hannibal obtain'd. Two Generals
In Spain or'ethrown: a Third, a Captive falls
Into brave Scipio's Hands. Prodigious Flames
Crown Massanissa's Head; who strait disclaims
The Libyan Side, and with the Romane joyns.
Both Hasdrubal, and Scipio their Designs,
In Syphax Court, pursue. The League again
Confirm'd with Syphax; Scipio goes for Spain:
Where, all subdud, with great Solemnities
His Father's, and his Uncle's Obsequies
He celebrates. Contending for Command,
Two Brothers give a Combat Hand to Hand,
And both are slain. To Rome the Consul goes,
Where his Designs old Fabius doth oppose.
But, by the Senate his Desire approv'd,
The War is, into Libya, remov'd.
But
Hannibal, who for his Country grieves,
And's own Mishaps, the Brutian Land receives.
Where, he, entrench'd, the Time considers, when
The War, suspended, he might raise agen.
As, when a Bull the Stalls forsakes, and quits
His Empire of the Heard, and Straying gets
Into some Wood enclos'd; on wandring Fights
He ruminates, and, fiercely Bellowing, frights
The Groves: then or'e the lofty Rocks he goes;
Tears them up with his Horns, and Trees or'ethrows.
While Trembling Shepheards on high Hills, from far,
Behold him thus preparing a new War.
But, now, that Vigour (which had quite destroy'd
Ausonia, had He other Helps employ'd)
Through a base Envy (lab'ring to retract
Their Mindes at Carthage) was constrain'd to Act
Without their Aid; and, through the length of Time,
In his Affairs to wax more Dull. Yet him
The Fear, and Terrour, by his valiant Hand,
And by so many former Slaughters, gain'd,
As an Inviolable, Sacred Head
In Battel, still preserv'd. So that, instead
Of all their Arms; their Aids of Camps, and all
Their fresh Recruits, the Name of Hannibal
Alone suffic'd. So many Troops, that there
Differ'd in Speech; So many Hearts, that were
Divided in their Barb'rous Customs; all
Stood firm, a Reverence of their General:
Kept their Mindes Faithful, when Affairs declin'd.
But the Dardanian Arms not onely finde
Success in Italy, but Phœnix yields
Iberia, beaten from those Golden Fields.
And Mago, having lost his Camp, in haste,
Urg'd by his Fears, by Sea to Libya past.
But Fortune, not Content with what before
For Scipio She had done, reserv'd in Store,
Another Honour. Hanno then amain
Advanc'd, and leading on a Barb'rous Train,
With rattling Shields, the Native Spaniards brought
Too late. Yet (had he not with Scipio fought)
Nor Valour, Art, nor Policy, in War
Was wanting in Him. But all Force so far,
With greater Weight, the Romane General
Depress'd, as Phœbe's Light surpasseth all
The lesser Stars; as Sol doth Her excell;
As Atlas other Hills; as Nile doth swell
'Bove other Rivers; or the Ocean
The Narrow-Seas exceeds. While he began
T'encamp, as Ev'ning with Un-equal Shades
Olympus veil'd, the Romane him invades;
And, in the sudden Tumult, ev'ry where
Th'imperfect Works are overthrown, and there
The weighty Turf, and Earth, oppressing those,
That fell, the Honour of a Grave bestows.
And's own Mishaps, the Brutian Land receives.
Where, he, entrench'd, the Time considers, when
The War, suspended, he might raise agen.
454
His Empire of the Heard, and Straying gets
Into some Wood enclos'd; on wandring Fights
He ruminates, and, fiercely Bellowing, frights
The Groves: then or'e the lofty Rocks he goes;
Tears them up with his Horns, and Trees or'ethrows.
While Trembling Shepheards on high Hills, from far,
Behold him thus preparing a new War.
But, now, that Vigour (which had quite destroy'd
Ausonia, had He other Helps employ'd)
Through a base Envy (lab'ring to retract
Their Mindes at Carthage) was constrain'd to Act
Without their Aid; and, through the length of Time,
In his Affairs to wax more Dull. Yet him
The Fear, and Terrour, by his valiant Hand,
And by so many former Slaughters, gain'd,
As an Inviolable, Sacred Head
In Battel, still preserv'd. So that, instead
Of all their Arms; their Aids of Camps, and all
Their fresh Recruits, the Name of Hannibal
Alone suffic'd. So many Troops, that there
Differ'd in Speech; So many Hearts, that were
Divided in their Barb'rous Customs; all
Stood firm, a Reverence of their General:
Kept their Mindes Faithful, when Affairs declin'd.
But the Dardanian Arms not onely finde
Success in Italy, but Phœnix yields
Iberia, beaten from those Golden Fields.
And Mago, having lost his Camp, in haste,
Urg'd by his Fears, by Sea to Libya past.
But Fortune, not Content with what before
For Scipio She had done, reserv'd in Store,
Another Honour. Hanno then amain
Advanc'd, and leading on a Barb'rous Train,
455
Too late. Yet (had he not with Scipio fought)
Nor Valour, Art, nor Policy, in War
Was wanting in Him. But all Force so far,
With greater Weight, the Romane General
Depress'd, as Phœbe's Light surpasseth all
The lesser Stars; as Sol doth Her excell;
As Atlas other Hills; as Nile doth swell
'Bove other Rivers; or the Ocean
The Narrow-Seas exceeds. While he began
T'encamp, as Ev'ning with Un-equal Shades
Olympus veil'd, the Romane him invades;
And, in the sudden Tumult, ev'ry where
Th'imperfect Works are overthrown, and there
The weighty Turf, and Earth, oppressing those,
That fell, the Honour of a Grave bestows.
But with a Courage, that might worthy be
Of more then One, and which Posterity
Deserves to know, and to commend to Fame
Is worth our Pains, Cantabrian Larus came.
Who, for his Minde, and Bodie's Bulk, might be
A Terrour, though Unarm'd. Most fiercely He
(After his Country's Custom) his right-Hand,
Arm'd with an Ax, the Combat still maintain'd:
And (though the routed Bands about him, round,
And his one Country Troop destroy'd he found)
The Place of those were slain supply'd Alone;
And, if he fought at hand, would oft upon
The Forehead wound his Fo. And, when aside
They him assail'd, with oblique Blows employ'd
His Ax reflex'd; If he assaulted were
Behinde, a furious Conqu'rour, free from Fear,
His Fatal Weapon, he could Backward throw:
In ev'ry part o'th' Fight, a dreadful Fo.
At him with mighty Force (the Brother to
The General) his Lance Young Scipio threw;
Which, with his Cap of Fence, his flowing Hair
Cast down: For, driven strong, the Fatal Spear
Sunk deep, and far the lifted Ax was thrown.
At which the Youth, whose Anger now was grow'n
A mighty Weapon, leaping on him, gives
A Shout, and Home the Barb'rous Weapon drives.
The Armies trembled, while his batter'd Shield
Sounds, with that Warlike weight, through all the Field.
Nor was't in vain: For with his Sword, as from
His Stroak the Spaniard drew his Right-hand Home,
Cut off, and Dead, with its lov'd Weapon, down
It fell. Which Wall, when it was overthrown,
The Trembling Troops an Universal Flight
Scatters, through all the Plain. No shew of Fight;
But the sad Face of Punishment of those,
That fell, on ev'ry side, by Conqu'ring Foes.
Of more then One, and which Posterity
Deserves to know, and to commend to Fame
Is worth our Pains, Cantabrian Larus came.
Who, for his Minde, and Bodie's Bulk, might be
A Terrour, though Unarm'd. Most fiercely He
(After his Country's Custom) his right-Hand,
Arm'd with an Ax, the Combat still maintain'd:
And (though the routed Bands about him, round,
And his one Country Troop destroy'd he found)
The Place of those were slain supply'd Alone;
And, if he fought at hand, would oft upon
The Forehead wound his Fo. And, when aside
They him assail'd, with oblique Blows employ'd
His Ax reflex'd; If he assaulted were
Behinde, a furious Conqu'rour, free from Fear,
His Fatal Weapon, he could Backward throw:
In ev'ry part o'th' Fight, a dreadful Fo.
456
The General) his Lance Young Scipio threw;
Which, with his Cap of Fence, his flowing Hair
Cast down: For, driven strong, the Fatal Spear
Sunk deep, and far the lifted Ax was thrown.
At which the Youth, whose Anger now was grow'n
A mighty Weapon, leaping on him, gives
A Shout, and Home the Barb'rous Weapon drives.
The Armies trembled, while his batter'd Shield
Sounds, with that Warlike weight, through all the Field.
Nor was't in vain: For with his Sword, as from
His Stroak the Spaniard drew his Right-hand Home,
Cut off, and Dead, with its lov'd Weapon, down
It fell. Which Wall, when it was overthrown,
The Trembling Troops an Universal Flight
Scatters, through all the Plain. No shew of Fight;
But the sad Face of Punishment of those,
That fell, on ev'ry side, by Conqu'ring Foes.
But now, behold! the Libyan Prince, his Hands
Behinde him bound, through midst of all the Bands
Is dragg'd along, and begg'd (Oh flatt'ring Light
Of Heav'n!) that Captivate in Chains he might
Have longer Life. To whom the Romane thus.
See these are they, who once requir'd or'e Us
So great a Pow'r; to whom thy Sacred Race
Must yield (Quirinus) and the Gown give Place!
But, to submit to Bondage if you are
So Easy, why did you begin the War?
As this he spake, an Horsman Tidings brought,
That Hasdrubal, not knowing they had fought,
Came on with Speed, to joyn his Arms, and Fate,
Scipio snatch'd up his ready Ensigns strait,
And when, or'ejoy'd, he saw the Fight (so much
Desir'd) approach, and Troops to Death with such
A furious Speed advancing, to the Sky
Lifting his Eyes; No more (Ye, Gods!) do I
Of you this Day require, since now I see
This Fugitive is drawn to Fight (said He)
Our other Wishes by our Valour may
Be gain'd. Then haste (Companions go,) I pray,
Behold my Father here, my Uncle there
With Rage, upon you call. Oh you, that are
My Deities in War, our Leaders be.
I'le follow you: Assist! and you shall see
(If my presaging Minde deceive me not)
A Slaughter worthy of your Name. For what
Shall else give Period to our Fighting here,
In the Iberian Land? When shall appear
That glorious Day, when at the fierce Alarms
Of the approaching War, and these mine Arms
I (Carthage) thee shall trembling see? This said
Hoarse Trumpets, with shrill Murmurs; strait invade
The Stars, with Eccho. With fierce Clamours then
They meet, with such a Violence, as when
Notus, and Boreas, or fell Auster raves
By Sea, and drown whole Fleets in swelling Waves.
Or when his deadly Flames the Dog expires,
And burns the fainting World with wasting Fires.
Such Slaughters their fierce Fury by the Sword
Commits, the gaping Earth could not afford
A Space, the Ruins of the Fight to hide.
No Rage of Salvage Beasts had er'e destroy'd
So many in their Fatal Dens. And, now,
With Blood the Fields, and Vallies overflow;
Their Weapons all are dull'd: The Libyans are
Cut off, and the Iberi, that in War
Delight. And yet, though shatter'd much, a Band
There was, that struggled still, and kept their Stand,
Where Hasdrubal did with his Spear contend.
Nor had their constant Valour made an End
That Day; but that an Arrow chanc'd to fall
Upon his Breast-plate's top. The Wound, though small
Perswaded him to fly. Then strait he quits
The Fight, and on his nimble Courser gets
To Shelter, and along the Shore, by Night,
To the Tartessîack Ports directs his Flight.
The next to him in Arms, and Valour, there,
To th'Fight (He the Massylian Scepter bare,
For's League, and Friendship to the Romane Name,
Soon after famous) Masanissa came.
Upon his radiant Head, as, tyr'd with Flight,
By Night he slept, a sudden, shining Light
Appear'd to compass, with a gentle Flame,
His curled Hair, and to diffuse the same
Upon his rugged Brow. His Servants strait
Run in, and haste the Fire (that did dilate
It self about his Breast) with Water to
Suppress. But his old Mother, who foreknew
The Omens of the Gods, Your Wonders (cries)
Thus, thus still hide, propitious Deities!
Long may that Light abide upon his Head!
Neither do Thou, my Masanissa! dread
Those happy Wonders of the Gods: nor fear,
When 'bout thy Temples Sacred Flames appear;
This Fire a League with the Dardanian Race,
And Empire, greater then thy Father's was,
Doth promise, and, at length, shall give to Thee;
And with the Latine Fates thy Name shall be
Involv'd. Thus spake the Prophetess. The Minde
O'th' Youth, to these clear Prodigies inclin'd,
Ner'e thought on Honours from the Libyan Side,
For his great Valour. And, besides the Pride,
Of Hannibal in Arms, now, less became,
And, ev'ry Day, the War decreas'd in Fame.
Behinde him bound, through midst of all the Bands
Is dragg'd along, and begg'd (Oh flatt'ring Light
Of Heav'n!) that Captivate in Chains he might
Have longer Life. To whom the Romane thus.
See these are they, who once requir'd or'e Us
So great a Pow'r; to whom thy Sacred Race
Must yield (Quirinus) and the Gown give Place!
But, to submit to Bondage if you are
So Easy, why did you begin the War?
As this he spake, an Horsman Tidings brought,
That Hasdrubal, not knowing they had fought,
Came on with Speed, to joyn his Arms, and Fate,
Scipio snatch'd up his ready Ensigns strait,
And when, or'ejoy'd, he saw the Fight (so much
Desir'd) approach, and Troops to Death with such
457
Lifting his Eyes; No more (Ye, Gods!) do I
Of you this Day require, since now I see
This Fugitive is drawn to Fight (said He)
Our other Wishes by our Valour may
Be gain'd. Then haste (Companions go,) I pray,
Behold my Father here, my Uncle there
With Rage, upon you call. Oh you, that are
My Deities in War, our Leaders be.
I'le follow you: Assist! and you shall see
(If my presaging Minde deceive me not)
A Slaughter worthy of your Name. For what
Shall else give Period to our Fighting here,
In the Iberian Land? When shall appear
That glorious Day, when at the fierce Alarms
Of the approaching War, and these mine Arms
I (Carthage) thee shall trembling see? This said
Hoarse Trumpets, with shrill Murmurs; strait invade
The Stars, with Eccho. With fierce Clamours then
They meet, with such a Violence, as when
Notus, and Boreas, or fell Auster raves
By Sea, and drown whole Fleets in swelling Waves.
Or when his deadly Flames the Dog expires,
And burns the fainting World with wasting Fires.
Such Slaughters their fierce Fury by the Sword
Commits, the gaping Earth could not afford
A Space, the Ruins of the Fight to hide.
No Rage of Salvage Beasts had er'e destroy'd
So many in their Fatal Dens. And, now,
With Blood the Fields, and Vallies overflow;
Their Weapons all are dull'd: The Libyans are
Cut off, and the Iberi, that in War
Delight. And yet, though shatter'd much, a Band
There was, that struggled still, and kept their Stand,
458
Nor had their constant Valour made an End
That Day; but that an Arrow chanc'd to fall
Upon his Breast-plate's top. The Wound, though small
Perswaded him to fly. Then strait he quits
The Fight, and on his nimble Courser gets
To Shelter, and along the Shore, by Night,
To the Tartessîack Ports directs his Flight.
The next to him in Arms, and Valour, there,
To th'Fight (He the Massylian Scepter bare,
For's League, and Friendship to the Romane Name,
Soon after famous) Masanissa came.
Upon his radiant Head, as, tyr'd with Flight,
By Night he slept, a sudden, shining Light
Appear'd to compass, with a gentle Flame,
His curled Hair, and to diffuse the same
Upon his rugged Brow. His Servants strait
Run in, and haste the Fire (that did dilate
It self about his Breast) with Water to
Suppress. But his old Mother, who foreknew
The Omens of the Gods, Your Wonders (cries)
Thus, thus still hide, propitious Deities!
Long may that Light abide upon his Head!
Neither do Thou, my Masanissa! dread
Those happy Wonders of the Gods: nor fear,
When 'bout thy Temples Sacred Flames appear;
This Fire a League with the Dardanian Race,
And Empire, greater then thy Father's was,
Doth promise, and, at length, shall give to Thee;
And with the Latine Fates thy Name shall be
Involv'd. Thus spake the Prophetess. The Minde
O'th' Youth, to these clear Prodigies inclin'd,
Ner'e thought on Honours from the Libyan Side,
For his great Valour. And, besides the Pride,
459
And, ev'ry Day, the War decreas'd in Fame.
From the dark Heav'ns the Morn began to chace
The Clouds, and scarce had Crimson-dy'd the Face
Of the Atlantick Sisters: when he goes
To the Ausonian Camp (as yet his Foes.)
Where when he enter'd, and kinde Entertain
Receiv'd from Scipio; thus the King began.
Th'advice of Heav'n, my Mother's Prophecies,
And thy great Valour, to the Deities
So dear, (Brave Romane) me have hither brought
(Most willingly) from those, for whom I fought.
If 'gainst thy Thunder I've appear'd to stand
With Courage, here I offer Thee an Hand,
Worthy thy Name, thou Son of Jove! nor Me
Do wav'ring Thoughts, or vain Inconstancy
Of Minde, to this invite. I Treachery,
And, perjur'd from their Birth, a People fly.
And, when Thou at Alcides Bars hast made
An End, the Mother of the War invade
With Me. For Him, who Italy ten Years
Hath now possess'd, and Scaling-Ladders bears
Against the Walls of Rome, You back must bring
With Fire, and Sword, to Libya. Thus the King.
The Clouds, and scarce had Crimson-dy'd the Face
Of the Atlantick Sisters: when he goes
To the Ausonian Camp (as yet his Foes.)
Where when he enter'd, and kinde Entertain
Receiv'd from Scipio; thus the King began.
Th'advice of Heav'n, my Mother's Prophecies,
And thy great Valour, to the Deities
So dear, (Brave Romane) me have hither brought
(Most willingly) from those, for whom I fought.
If 'gainst thy Thunder I've appear'd to stand
With Courage, here I offer Thee an Hand,
Worthy thy Name, thou Son of Jove! nor Me
Do wav'ring Thoughts, or vain Inconstancy
Of Minde, to this invite. I Treachery,
And, perjur'd from their Birth, a People fly.
And, when Thou at Alcides Bars hast made
An End, the Mother of the War invade
With Me. For Him, who Italy ten Years
Hath now possess'd, and Scaling-Ladders bears
Against the Walls of Rome, You back must bring
With Fire, and Sword, to Libya. Thus the King.
To whom (their Right-Hands joyn'd) If glorious We
(The General replies) in Arms to Thee
Appear; more glorious much We Romanes are
For keeping Faith. Then (Masanissa) far
Thy double-Tongu'd Associates from thy Minde
Remove. Thy famous Valour, hence, shall finde
A great Reward: and sooner Me subdu'd
By Arms, then overcome in Gratitude,
Thou shalt confess. But that, which you perswade,
That We should Libya with Fire invade,
Time shall effect. My Thoughts are oft inclin'd
To that, and Carthage fatigates my Minde.
Then to the Youth a rich embroider'd Cloak,
And Horse, which he from conquer'd Mago took,
And had himself his Mettle try'd, withall
A Cask, and Golden Cup, which Hasdrubal
Us'd to the Altars of the Gods to bring
With Sacrifice, He gives. Then, with the King
A Social League confirm'd, He strait employ'd
His Thoughts, that Byrsa's Tow'rs might be destroy'd.
(The General replies) in Arms to Thee
Appear; more glorious much We Romanes are
For keeping Faith. Then (Masanissa) far
Thy double-Tongu'd Associates from thy Minde
Remove. Thy famous Valour, hence, shall finde
A great Reward: and sooner Me subdu'd
By Arms, then overcome in Gratitude,
Thou shalt confess. But that, which you perswade,
That We should Libya with Fire invade,
460
To that, and Carthage fatigates my Minde.
Then to the Youth a rich embroider'd Cloak,
And Horse, which he from conquer'd Mago took,
And had himself his Mettle try'd, withall
A Cask, and Golden Cup, which Hasdrubal
Us'd to the Altars of the Gods to bring
With Sacrifice, He gives. Then, with the King
A Social League confirm'd, He strait employ'd
His Thoughts, that Byrsa's Tow'rs might be destroy'd.
The richest King in the Massylian Land,
And Valiant held, was Syphax: whose command
Un-number'd Nations, and the farthest Seas,
Obey'd. His Territories vast; in these
He Store of Horse, and Monstrous Beasts, that are
In Fight a Terrour, and choice Youth for War,
Possess'd. None Him surpass'd in Ivory,
Or Gold, or Garments of Getulian Dy.
Desirous, therefore, to his Side to bring
This Strength (the Danger weighing, should that King
To Carthage turn) He puts to Sea, and in
His Thoughts, already, doth that War begin.
But when, at length, his Ship arriv'd before
The Port; fled thither, by the nearest Shore,
In a weak Bark, was Hasdrubal, who sought
New Leagues, for his distress'd Affairs, and brought
Massylian Ensigns to the Tyrian Side.
But, when to Syphax it was signifi'd,
That the two Generals of two Nations (who
With all their Might contended to subdue,
Each, to their Laws, the World) into his Land
Were come: big in his Thoughts, he gives Command,
They should be strait conducted to his Court;
Proud, that his Throne was Honour'd with Resort
So great. Then, as, with joyful Eys, he ran
Or'e Scipio's Face, to him he first began.
Brave Dardan, fam'd for thy clear Soul! how Thee
I, willingly, Embrace! how gladly see!
How much I'me pleas'd old Scipio's Face to Minde
To call! thy Father in thy Looks I finde.
I speak of the Herculean Gades now;
When, Curious to observe the Ocean's flow,
And Ebb, to th'Erythræan Coast I came.
With Kindeness strange, at Bætis neighb'ring Stream,
Those two great Captains came to see Me; where
They Presents of their Spoils (the Best that were)
On Me bestow'd: as Arms, and (which within
My Kingdom, untill then, unknown had been)
Bridles for Horse, and Bows, with which we may
Our Country's Darts compare. Besides these, they
Masters of antient Discipline, that might
In Order form our scatter'd Bands, in Fight,
(After your Country's Manner) to me gave.
I Gold, and Ivory (of which We have
Great Plenty in our Land) on them again
Would have bestow'd. But all my Pray'rs were Vain:
Onely two Swords, which carved Ivory
Ensheath'd, they took. Now therefore chearfully
My Palace enter; and since, hither now
The Libyan General my Fortune, through
The Seas, hath brought, consider what I say
With Candid Thoughts: and Thou (whom all obey
At Carthage) Hasdrubal thine Ears to me,
And Senses turn. What Storms, through Italy,
Of Arms, like Torrents, run, and spread the Fears
Of Ruin through the Land? And how ten years,
Sometimes Sicanian Earth, sometimes thy Shore
(Iberus) hath been drunk with Tyrian Gore;
To all is known: Now, therefore, let the War
Be lay'd aside, and joyntly Arms forbare;
Be Thou content with Italy, and Thou
In Libya to contain thy Self. And now,
If to a League of Amity you please
To turn, no mean Procurer of your Peace
Will Syphax be. As more he would have said,
Scipio, not suff'ring Him, before him lay'd
The Customs of his Country, and the Will
O'th' Senate: shew'd him, that the Fathers still
Determin'd such Affairs: wish'd him to lay
All Hopes of that Design aside. Thus they,
In arguing, the Day remaining spent,
And then unto their Cups, and Viands, went.
The Banquet ended, ev'ry Man repairs
To Rest, and the hard Fetters of his Cares
Throws off to Night. But, when the Morn gave Birth
To a new-Day, by her first Beams on Earth,
And Sol His Horses from their Stable drew
Unto their Yoak; Himself, not mounted to
His Seat, but onely, with his early Rays,
Then breaking forth, enchac'd th'Eöan Seas:
Scipio leaps from his Bed, and, with a fair
Aspect, to Syphax Lodgings doth repair.
He (as the Custom of his Country) bred
Young Lions up; which lost, so Tamely fed,
Their Native Rage, and, at that very Time
Their Yellow-Necks, and Mains, while they with Him
Were Wanton, strok'd, and handled, without Fear,
Their dreadful Jaws. But, when he came to hear,
That Scipio was at Hand, he strait puts on
His Robe: and Royal Ensigns of his Throne,
In his Left Hand, assumes. White Fillets ty'd
About his Temples, and to his left Side
A Sword (as was their Custom) girt: He strait
Invites him in; where privately they sate,
The Scepter'd King, and the Ausonian Guest,
In equal State, when Scipio thus exprest
His Minde. It was my First, and Chiefest Care,
So soon as the Pyrenean Nations were
Subdu'd by Me, into thy Land to haste
(Most mighty Syphax) nor (which I have past)
Could me the cruel Seas, between, retard.
Now, what I shall demand is neither Hard,
Nor yet Dishonourable to thy Throne:
With the Ausonians let thy Heart be one;
A firm Ally to their Successes be:
Not the Massylian Nations can Thee,
Nor Territories stretch'd to Dang'rous Sands,
Nor Pow'r of thy great Ancestours in Lands
Of vast Extent, more Glory yield, then will
The Romane Valour, still Invincible
In Faith, and Honour of the Latine Name.
For (not to mention more) none, that can claim
Equality with the Immortal Gods,
Over the Dardan Arms can compass Odds.
And Valiant held, was Syphax: whose command
Un-number'd Nations, and the farthest Seas,
Obey'd. His Territories vast; in these
He Store of Horse, and Monstrous Beasts, that are
In Fight a Terrour, and choice Youth for War,
Possess'd. None Him surpass'd in Ivory,
Or Gold, or Garments of Getulian Dy.
Desirous, therefore, to his Side to bring
This Strength (the Danger weighing, should that King
To Carthage turn) He puts to Sea, and in
His Thoughts, already, doth that War begin.
But when, at length, his Ship arriv'd before
The Port; fled thither, by the nearest Shore,
In a weak Bark, was Hasdrubal, who sought
New Leagues, for his distress'd Affairs, and brought
Massylian Ensigns to the Tyrian Side.
But, when to Syphax it was signifi'd,
That the two Generals of two Nations (who
With all their Might contended to subdue,
Each, to their Laws, the World) into his Land
Were come: big in his Thoughts, he gives Command,
They should be strait conducted to his Court;
Proud, that his Throne was Honour'd with Resort
461
Or'e Scipio's Face, to him he first began.
Brave Dardan, fam'd for thy clear Soul! how Thee
I, willingly, Embrace! how gladly see!
How much I'me pleas'd old Scipio's Face to Minde
To call! thy Father in thy Looks I finde.
I speak of the Herculean Gades now;
When, Curious to observe the Ocean's flow,
And Ebb, to th'Erythræan Coast I came.
With Kindeness strange, at Bætis neighb'ring Stream,
Those two great Captains came to see Me; where
They Presents of their Spoils (the Best that were)
On Me bestow'd: as Arms, and (which within
My Kingdom, untill then, unknown had been)
Bridles for Horse, and Bows, with which we may
Our Country's Darts compare. Besides these, they
Masters of antient Discipline, that might
In Order form our scatter'd Bands, in Fight,
(After your Country's Manner) to me gave.
I Gold, and Ivory (of which We have
Great Plenty in our Land) on them again
Would have bestow'd. But all my Pray'rs were Vain:
Onely two Swords, which carved Ivory
Ensheath'd, they took. Now therefore chearfully
My Palace enter; and since, hither now
The Libyan General my Fortune, through
The Seas, hath brought, consider what I say
With Candid Thoughts: and Thou (whom all obey
At Carthage) Hasdrubal thine Ears to me,
And Senses turn. What Storms, through Italy,
Of Arms, like Torrents, run, and spread the Fears
Of Ruin through the Land? And how ten years,
Sometimes Sicanian Earth, sometimes thy Shore
(Iberus) hath been drunk with Tyrian Gore;
462
Be lay'd aside, and joyntly Arms forbare;
Be Thou content with Italy, and Thou
In Libya to contain thy Self. And now,
If to a League of Amity you please
To turn, no mean Procurer of your Peace
Will Syphax be. As more he would have said,
Scipio, not suff'ring Him, before him lay'd
The Customs of his Country, and the Will
O'th' Senate: shew'd him, that the Fathers still
Determin'd such Affairs: wish'd him to lay
All Hopes of that Design aside. Thus they,
In arguing, the Day remaining spent,
And then unto their Cups, and Viands, went.
The Banquet ended, ev'ry Man repairs
To Rest, and the hard Fetters of his Cares
Throws off to Night. But, when the Morn gave Birth
To a new-Day, by her first Beams on Earth,
And Sol His Horses from their Stable drew
Unto their Yoak; Himself, not mounted to
His Seat, but onely, with his early Rays,
Then breaking forth, enchac'd th'Eöan Seas:
Scipio leaps from his Bed, and, with a fair
Aspect, to Syphax Lodgings doth repair.
He (as the Custom of his Country) bred
Young Lions up; which lost, so Tamely fed,
Their Native Rage, and, at that very Time
Their Yellow-Necks, and Mains, while they with Him
Were Wanton, strok'd, and handled, without Fear,
Their dreadful Jaws. But, when he came to hear,
That Scipio was at Hand, he strait puts on
His Robe: and Royal Ensigns of his Throne,
In his Left Hand, assumes. White Fillets ty'd
About his Temples, and to his left Side
463
Invites him in; where privately they sate,
The Scepter'd King, and the Ausonian Guest,
In equal State, when Scipio thus exprest
His Minde. It was my First, and Chiefest Care,
So soon as the Pyrenean Nations were
Subdu'd by Me, into thy Land to haste
(Most mighty Syphax) nor (which I have past)
Could me the cruel Seas, between, retard.
Now, what I shall demand is neither Hard,
Nor yet Dishonourable to thy Throne:
With the Ausonians let thy Heart be one;
A firm Ally to their Successes be:
Not the Massylian Nations can Thee,
Nor Territories stretch'd to Dang'rous Sands,
Nor Pow'r of thy great Ancestours in Lands
Of vast Extent, more Glory yield, then will
The Romane Valour, still Invincible
In Faith, and Honour of the Latine Name.
For (not to mention more) none, that can claim
Equality with the Immortal Gods,
Over the Dardan Arms can compass Odds.
The King this hearing, with a chearful Face,
Seems to assent, and, with a strict Embrace,
Let Us confirm this happy Omen (cries)
And our joynt Vows propitious Deities
Assist! Both Horned, and Tarpeian Jove,
Let us invoke. With that, they forward move
To Sacred Altars, built of Turfs of Grass,
Where ready for the Ax the Victim was.
When suddenly the Bull the Altar flies,
Leaps from the broken Cords, and with loud Cries
Fills the whole Temple, and, his dismal Note
Ingeminating (from his bellowing Throat)
Through all the trembling Palace Terrour spreads.
Then strait the Fillet, that adorn'd the Heads
Of his great Ancestours, without the Touch
Of any, falls from the King's Temples. Such
Sad Signs by Heav'n of his declining State
Were giv'n, and heavy Omens of his Fate.
Seems to assent, and, with a strict Embrace,
Let Us confirm this happy Omen (cries)
And our joynt Vows propitious Deities
Assist! Both Horned, and Tarpeian Jove,
Let us invoke. With that, they forward move
To Sacred Altars, built of Turfs of Grass,
Where ready for the Ax the Victim was.
When suddenly the Bull the Altar flies,
Leaps from the broken Cords, and with loud Cries
Fills the whole Temple, and, his dismal Note
Ingeminating (from his bellowing Throat)
464
Then strait the Fillet, that adorn'd the Heads
Of his great Ancestours, without the Touch
Of any, falls from the King's Temples. Such
Sad Signs by Heav'n of his declining State
Were giv'n, and heavy Omens of his Fate.
This done: returning to the Port again,
Scipio, with prosp'rous Gales, arrives in Spain.
The greedy Nations met. Pyrene sent
Her sev'ral People: all in Complement
Salute, and call him King, which the Supreme
Honour of Virtue was, in their Esteem.
But with a milde Aspect their Offers were
By Him rejected, and He did declare
His Country's Customs, and (which well-became
A Noble Romane) that the very Name
Of Kings was Odious at Rome. Again
Turn'd to that onely Care, that did remain
(No Enemy now left) the Latine Bands,
With those, which Bætis, and which Tagus Sands
Enrich, he convocates, and to them thus,
Midst the Assemblies, speaks. Since Heav'n hath Us
So bless'd, that, from the farthest Part of all
The World thrown out, the Libyan should fall;
Or in these Plains; or, from th'Hesperian Lands
Exil'd, should fly to see his Native Sands.
I now the Fun'rals of my Friends desire
To celebrate, and Peace, which they require,
To dearest Shades to give. Consent (I pray)
With Me in this, and list to what I say.
When the seventh Sun again the Skies shall gild,
Whoer'e in Arms, or in the Sword is skill'd;
Or can with Art the Chariot drive; or by
Swiftness of Foot hopes Conquest; or lets fly
Darts, that impell the Windes: let such appear,
And for the Crown contend with Honour here.
I Rewards worthy, of the choice of all
The Tyrian Spoils, will give. No Person shall
Depart without Reward. Thus with Desires
Of Gifts, and Praises, he the Vulgar fires.
And now the Day arriv'd, when all the Plain
With the vast Concourse sounds, and with a Train
Well order'd, the pretended Obsequies
Scipio, with Tears Obortive in his Eyes,
Leads on. All Soldiers of the Latine Name,
And all th'Iberian, with their Off'rings came,
And threw them on the flaming Pyles: while He
Goblets of Sacred Milk, and Bowls, that be
With blushing Bacchus fill'd, devoutly pours,
And strews the Altars or'e with flagrant Flow'rs.
Then the excited Shades he invocates
With Tears, their Praises sings, and venerates
Their glorious Acts. This done: from thence he goes
Into the Cirque, where first he doth propose
The rapid Race of Steeds, and doth Commence
The Sport. The wav'ring People in the Sense,
And Rage of Fav'ring Sides (the Bars not yet
Thrown open) Fluctuate to and fro, and fret,
Like murm'ring Seas, and still their Eyes confine
T'observe the Horses stand. Soon as the Sign
Was giv'n, the Bars resound, and to the Skies
(Scarce the first Hoof appearing) Clamours rise,
With dreadful Noise: while prone, and eager all
As those that run, they to the Chariots bawl,
And Steeds. The Cirque with their Contention shakes,
And Heat in some, from others Courage takes.
Exhorting they drive on, and, clam'ring loud,
Their Horses guide, and then a Yellow Cloud
Mounts, from the sandy Tract, into the Air,
Obscuring, with its Darkness, ev'ry where
The Horses Way, and Drivers Pains. Here one
Rails at his Head-strong Steed: and this upon
The Master. Some the Country's Favour; some
The antient Stable's Name, from whence they come,
Inflames; and some with Hopes tormented are
Of the Young Steeds, that Harness newly bear.
Some with old Age are pleas'd, and praise the Steed,
Known for long Years. Starting, with rapid Speed,
Callâick Lampon, through the Air, before
The rest, flies out, and runs, insulting or'e,
Much Ground, and leaves the Windes behinde. They Shout,
And with Applause grow hot; nor seem to doubt,
That, with the Start, h'ad gain'd the better part
Of his Desires. But such, as in the Art,
And Knowledg of the Race more Skillful were,
Against their Clamour, at the first, declare,
And at great Distance blam'd, with vain Complaint,
His ill-spent Pains, which made his Horses faint.
Oh! whither, rashly, Cyrnus (for 'twas He
That drove the Chariot) whither dost thou flee?
Forbear the Whip, take up the Reins, alass!
His Ears are Deaf, and He doth forward pass,
Still of his Steeds secure; nor thinks upon
The space of Ground, that yet remain'd to run.
Scipio, with prosp'rous Gales, arrives in Spain.
The greedy Nations met. Pyrene sent
Her sev'ral People: all in Complement
Salute, and call him King, which the Supreme
Honour of Virtue was, in their Esteem.
But with a milde Aspect their Offers were
By Him rejected, and He did declare
His Country's Customs, and (which well-became
A Noble Romane) that the very Name
Of Kings was Odious at Rome. Again
Turn'd to that onely Care, that did remain
(No Enemy now left) the Latine Bands,
With those, which Bætis, and which Tagus Sands
Enrich, he convocates, and to them thus,
Midst the Assemblies, speaks. Since Heav'n hath Us
So bless'd, that, from the farthest Part of all
The World thrown out, the Libyan should fall;
Or in these Plains; or, from th'Hesperian Lands
Exil'd, should fly to see his Native Sands.
I now the Fun'rals of my Friends desire
To celebrate, and Peace, which they require,
To dearest Shades to give. Consent (I pray)
With Me in this, and list to what I say.
When the seventh Sun again the Skies shall gild,
Whoer'e in Arms, or in the Sword is skill'd;
Or can with Art the Chariot drive; or by
Swiftness of Foot hopes Conquest; or lets fly
465
And for the Crown contend with Honour here.
I Rewards worthy, of the choice of all
The Tyrian Spoils, will give. No Person shall
Depart without Reward. Thus with Desires
Of Gifts, and Praises, he the Vulgar fires.
And now the Day arriv'd, when all the Plain
With the vast Concourse sounds, and with a Train
Well order'd, the pretended Obsequies
Scipio, with Tears Obortive in his Eyes,
Leads on. All Soldiers of the Latine Name,
And all th'Iberian, with their Off'rings came,
And threw them on the flaming Pyles: while He
Goblets of Sacred Milk, and Bowls, that be
With blushing Bacchus fill'd, devoutly pours,
And strews the Altars or'e with flagrant Flow'rs.
Then the excited Shades he invocates
With Tears, their Praises sings, and venerates
Their glorious Acts. This done: from thence he goes
Into the Cirque, where first he doth propose
The rapid Race of Steeds, and doth Commence
The Sport. The wav'ring People in the Sense,
And Rage of Fav'ring Sides (the Bars not yet
Thrown open) Fluctuate to and fro, and fret,
Like murm'ring Seas, and still their Eyes confine
T'observe the Horses stand. Soon as the Sign
Was giv'n, the Bars resound, and to the Skies
(Scarce the first Hoof appearing) Clamours rise,
With dreadful Noise: while prone, and eager all
As those that run, they to the Chariots bawl,
And Steeds. The Cirque with their Contention shakes,
And Heat in some, from others Courage takes.
Exhorting they drive on, and, clam'ring loud,
Their Horses guide, and then a Yellow Cloud
466
Obscuring, with its Darkness, ev'ry where
The Horses Way, and Drivers Pains. Here one
Rails at his Head-strong Steed: and this upon
The Master. Some the Country's Favour; some
The antient Stable's Name, from whence they come,
Inflames; and some with Hopes tormented are
Of the Young Steeds, that Harness newly bear.
Some with old Age are pleas'd, and praise the Steed,
Known for long Years. Starting, with rapid Speed,
Callâick Lampon, through the Air, before
The rest, flies out, and runs, insulting or'e,
Much Ground, and leaves the Windes behinde. They Shout,
And with Applause grow hot; nor seem to doubt,
That, with the Start, h'ad gain'd the better part
Of his Desires. But such, as in the Art,
And Knowledg of the Race more Skillful were,
Against their Clamour, at the first, declare,
And at great Distance blam'd, with vain Complaint,
His ill-spent Pains, which made his Horses faint.
Oh! whither, rashly, Cyrnus (for 'twas He
That drove the Chariot) whither dost thou flee?
Forbear the Whip, take up the Reins, alass!
His Ears are Deaf, and He doth forward pass,
Still of his Steeds secure; nor thinks upon
The space of Ground, that yet remain'd to run.
At Distance from the foremost, but the space
Of's Chariot length, the next Panchates was.
Asturian born; his Sire's White Ensign bright
Upon his Forehead shin'd, his Feet all White
Alike, his Mettle very great, not Tall
His Members, and his Bodie's Grace but small:
But then He Wings assum'd, and, with Disdain
Of Reins, runs on, with Fury, through the Plain.
You'd think his Limbs grew Greater, he more High.
His Spanish Guide shin'd in Cinyphian Dye.
Of's Chariot length, the next Panchates was.
Asturian born; his Sire's White Ensign bright
Upon his Forehead shin'd, his Feet all White
Alike, his Mettle very great, not Tall
His Members, and his Bodie's Grace but small:
But then He Wings assum'd, and, with Disdain
Of Reins, runs on, with Fury, through the Plain.
467
His Spanish Guide shin'd in Cinyphian Dye.
The third, that equal with Pelorus run
Afront, was Caucasus; most fierce, and One,
That scorn'd on's flatter'd Neck the Hand's applause:
But, foaming, lov'd to champ with Bloody Jaws
Upon the Bit. But, easier to obey
The Reins, Pelorus never from the Way
The running Chariot, deviating, drew,
And in the Tract went on directly to
The Mark. His Crest was deep, and, to and fro,
Upon his Neck and Ample Main did flow.
No Sire he had: Him Harpe, when anew
In the Vectonian Meades the Zephyrs blew,
Brought forth. This Chariot gallant Durius in
The Race urg'd on. On Atlas, who had been
His Master long, did Caucasus rely.
Him thither then Ætolian Tyde (by
Tydides built) had sent, and thought indeed,
That his Descent was from that Trojan Breed
Of Steeds, which from Æneas Diomed
Near Simois took, and home with Conquest led.
Now, as almost amidst the Race they drive,
In Space enlarg'd, Panchates, fierce, doth strive
T'or'etake the foremost Horses, and to tend
Yet higher, and behinde seems to ascend
The Chariot, that before him went; while He,
Striking on the Callàick Axle-tree,
Shakes it with his Forefeet. But, though the last,
Old Atlas, tow'rds the Goal, as nimbly past,
As Durius. You might think they Peaceful were;
So equally their Fronts, and Reins they bear:
But, when th'Iberian, who then next him went,
Perceiv'd, that the Callàick's Strength was spent,
Nor, as before, the headlong Chariot leap'd,
But with continual Violence, and Whip'd,
The smoaking Steeds went on. As, from high Hills,
A sudden Storm the lower Vallies fills,
Stretch'd to his Horses Necks, and hanging or'e
Their Heads, Panchates, that he should no more
Delay, but bear his Reins with good Success,
H' excites, and, lashing on, doth this express.
While thou contend'st, shall an Asturian gain
The Prize? Stir up; fly nimbly through the Plain.
For Lampon, who, as wing'd, but lately went,
In's panting Breast declines: his Breath is spent;
Nor, gaping, hath enough to bear him to
The Mark. Thus having said, the Horse anew
Himself collects, as if he newly then
Had started from the Barriers, and began
The Race, and Cyrnus striving, as he pass'd,
To cross, or equal him, behinde him cast.
Heav'n, and the Cirque, with the Spectatours Cries,
Murmurs, while through the Air Panchates flies,
And raising his Triumphant Neck more strong,
And High, his Fellows (foremost) draws along.
Atlas, and Durius, in the Rear, their Arts
In Wheeling try. This to the Left converts
His Reins, the other to the Right doth bend,
And strives to pass: and both, in vain, contend
Each other to deceive; till, on his Strength
Of Youth relying, Durius turn'd, at length,
His Reins, and headlong drives his Chariot on,
Cross Atlas Axle-tree; which overthrown,
He, weak with Age, complaining justly, cries;
Whither dost go? or what mad Way is this
Of running Races? both my Steeds, and Me
To kill thou dost Endeavour. Thus while he
Exclaims, the Ax-tree broke, upon his Face
He falls, and's Steeds, now drawing sev'ral Ways,
Run headlong through the Champagne (Sad to see!)
While, in the open Plain, with Victory,
The Reins unto his Friends Pelorus heaves,
And shakes, and 'midst the Sand, behinde him, leaves
Atlas, endeav'ring there to rise. Nor far
Had he to equal Cyrnus weary Carr.
Past whom (learning too late to guide his Steeds,
And marching slow) with nimble Wheels he speeds.
His Friends with Shouts, and Cries, his Chariot make
To go more Swift. And now upon the Back,
And Shoulders o'th' Iberian Charioter
His mouth the Horse had lay'd; who, full of Fear,
By the strong Vapour of his Breath, and Foam,
Soon feels his Back oppress'd, and Warm become:
While Durius ply'd the Race, and lash'd amain
His Horses on, nor seems to strive in vain,
On the Right-hand, to reach the Steeds before,
And equall'd them; and, then transported more
With so great Hopes, cries out. Pelorus now,
That Zephyrus was thy Sire, 'tis time to show:
And let them learn, that can the Pedegree
Of Steeds, by Name, derive, how much in Thee
A Breed Divine excels. A Conqu'rour, Thou
Shalt Altars raise, and Off'rings shalt bestow
Upon thy Sire. And if, as this he said,
Through joyful Fear he had not been betrai'd,
By his too great Success, and letting fall
His Whip, perhaps to Zephyrus he all
His Vows had pay'd, and Altars rais'd. But then,
As if h'ad gain'd the Crown, and it agen
Had tumbled from his Head, Unfortunate,
His Anger turning on himself, He strait
Across his Breast his golden Garment rends,
And dire Complaints, most sadly weeping, sends
Up to the very Stars. And now no more
(His Lashing ceas'd) the Chariot, as before,
Obey'd his Hand: but on the Horses Backs,
Insteed o'th' Whip, the Reins he, vainly, shakes.
While, now secure of Praise, Panchates came
Up to the Goal, and the first Prize did claim.
The Winde with his large Main, which Nature lay'd
Over his Neck, and Shoulders, gently play'd:
While, snatching up his subtile Limbs, about
He praunc'd, and triumph'd with a mighty Shout.
An Ax, in solid Silver carv'd, to all,
Alike, was giv'n. The rest the General,
Distinguishing with sev'ral Honours, gave.
The First a nimble Courser did receive,
Which the Massylian King a Present made,
Of high Esteem. The next in Merit had
Two Golden Cups, o'th' Tyrian Spoils (which there
In Plenty lay) and, rough with Yellow-Hair,
A Lion's Skin, and (with like Dread exprest)
A Tyrian Helmet, with an horrid Crest.
The Third in Honour, in Reward the last,
Was Atlas; who, though from the Chariot cast,
(Pitying the sad Misfortune of his Fall,
And his Decrepit Age) the General
Presented, and, in's Prime of Age, a Slave,
And Bonnet, of his Country's Fashion, gave.
Afront, was Caucasus; most fierce, and One,
That scorn'd on's flatter'd Neck the Hand's applause:
But, foaming, lov'd to champ with Bloody Jaws
Upon the Bit. But, easier to obey
The Reins, Pelorus never from the Way
The running Chariot, deviating, drew,
And in the Tract went on directly to
The Mark. His Crest was deep, and, to and fro,
Upon his Neck and Ample Main did flow.
No Sire he had: Him Harpe, when anew
In the Vectonian Meades the Zephyrs blew,
Brought forth. This Chariot gallant Durius in
The Race urg'd on. On Atlas, who had been
His Master long, did Caucasus rely.
Him thither then Ætolian Tyde (by
Tydides built) had sent, and thought indeed,
That his Descent was from that Trojan Breed
Of Steeds, which from Æneas Diomed
Near Simois took, and home with Conquest led.
Now, as almost amidst the Race they drive,
In Space enlarg'd, Panchates, fierce, doth strive
T'or'etake the foremost Horses, and to tend
Yet higher, and behinde seems to ascend
The Chariot, that before him went; while He,
Striking on the Callàick Axle-tree,
Shakes it with his Forefeet. But, though the last,
Old Atlas, tow'rds the Goal, as nimbly past,
As Durius. You might think they Peaceful were;
So equally their Fronts, and Reins they bear:
But, when th'Iberian, who then next him went,
Perceiv'd, that the Callàick's Strength was spent,
468
But with continual Violence, and Whip'd,
The smoaking Steeds went on. As, from high Hills,
A sudden Storm the lower Vallies fills,
Stretch'd to his Horses Necks, and hanging or'e
Their Heads, Panchates, that he should no more
Delay, but bear his Reins with good Success,
H' excites, and, lashing on, doth this express.
While thou contend'st, shall an Asturian gain
The Prize? Stir up; fly nimbly through the Plain.
For Lampon, who, as wing'd, but lately went,
In's panting Breast declines: his Breath is spent;
Nor, gaping, hath enough to bear him to
The Mark. Thus having said, the Horse anew
Himself collects, as if he newly then
Had started from the Barriers, and began
The Race, and Cyrnus striving, as he pass'd,
To cross, or equal him, behinde him cast.
Heav'n, and the Cirque, with the Spectatours Cries,
Murmurs, while through the Air Panchates flies,
And raising his Triumphant Neck more strong,
And High, his Fellows (foremost) draws along.
Atlas, and Durius, in the Rear, their Arts
In Wheeling try. This to the Left converts
His Reins, the other to the Right doth bend,
And strives to pass: and both, in vain, contend
Each other to deceive; till, on his Strength
Of Youth relying, Durius turn'd, at length,
His Reins, and headlong drives his Chariot on,
Cross Atlas Axle-tree; which overthrown,
He, weak with Age, complaining justly, cries;
Whither dost go? or what mad Way is this
Of running Races? both my Steeds, and Me
To kill thou dost Endeavour. Thus while he
469
He falls, and's Steeds, now drawing sev'ral Ways,
Run headlong through the Champagne (Sad to see!)
While, in the open Plain, with Victory,
The Reins unto his Friends Pelorus heaves,
And shakes, and 'midst the Sand, behinde him, leaves
Atlas, endeav'ring there to rise. Nor far
Had he to equal Cyrnus weary Carr.
Past whom (learning too late to guide his Steeds,
And marching slow) with nimble Wheels he speeds.
His Friends with Shouts, and Cries, his Chariot make
To go more Swift. And now upon the Back,
And Shoulders o'th' Iberian Charioter
His mouth the Horse had lay'd; who, full of Fear,
By the strong Vapour of his Breath, and Foam,
Soon feels his Back oppress'd, and Warm become:
While Durius ply'd the Race, and lash'd amain
His Horses on, nor seems to strive in vain,
On the Right-hand, to reach the Steeds before,
And equall'd them; and, then transported more
With so great Hopes, cries out. Pelorus now,
That Zephyrus was thy Sire, 'tis time to show:
And let them learn, that can the Pedegree
Of Steeds, by Name, derive, how much in Thee
A Breed Divine excels. A Conqu'rour, Thou
Shalt Altars raise, and Off'rings shalt bestow
Upon thy Sire. And if, as this he said,
Through joyful Fear he had not been betrai'd,
By his too great Success, and letting fall
His Whip, perhaps to Zephyrus he all
His Vows had pay'd, and Altars rais'd. But then,
As if h'ad gain'd the Crown, and it agen
Had tumbled from his Head, Unfortunate,
His Anger turning on himself, He strait
470
And dire Complaints, most sadly weeping, sends
Up to the very Stars. And now no more
(His Lashing ceas'd) the Chariot, as before,
Obey'd his Hand: but on the Horses Backs,
Insteed o'th' Whip, the Reins he, vainly, shakes.
While, now secure of Praise, Panchates came
Up to the Goal, and the first Prize did claim.
The Winde with his large Main, which Nature lay'd
Over his Neck, and Shoulders, gently play'd:
While, snatching up his subtile Limbs, about
He praunc'd, and triumph'd with a mighty Shout.
An Ax, in solid Silver carv'd, to all,
Alike, was giv'n. The rest the General,
Distinguishing with sev'ral Honours, gave.
The First a nimble Courser did receive,
Which the Massylian King a Present made,
Of high Esteem. The next in Merit had
Two Golden Cups, o'th' Tyrian Spoils (which there
In Plenty lay) and, rough with Yellow-Hair,
A Lion's Skin, and (with like Dread exprest)
A Tyrian Helmet, with an horrid Crest.
The Third in Honour, in Reward the last,
Was Atlas; who, though from the Chariot cast,
(Pitying the sad Misfortune of his Fall,
And his Decrepit Age) the General
Presented, and, in's Prime of Age, a Slave,
And Bonnet, of his Country's Fashion, gave.
This done, the General the Race proclaims
A Foot, and Hearts with Prizes fix'd inflames.
To th'first a Cask, which, late, upon the Head
Of Hasdrubal, did Pannick Terrour spread
Through all th'Iberian Bands. To him whose Speed.
Next Merited, a Sword there was Decreed,
Which from Hyempsal slain his Father took.
And to the Third, a Bull. The rest forsook
The Cirque: each Man well-pleas'd, and Proud, that they
Two Darts of Native Metal bore away.
Then Hesp'ros, and Tartessos, Lovely Boys,
At once appear with the propitious Voice
Of all the Cirque. Of Tyrian Blood, they came
From Gades. Next (to whom the River's Name
By Corduba was giv'n, when yet a Childe)
In that great Contest, Bæticus was fill'd
With joyfull Hopes. And then, with Yellow-Hair,
(But with a Skin, whose Whiteness might compare
With Snow) did Eurythus with Clamours fill
The Lists. He, bred upon her lofty Hill,
Was thither sent by Setabis, and there,
With trembling Piety, his Parents were.
Then Lamus, and then Sicoris (thy Brood,
Warlike Ilerda) and that drinks the Flood,
Which, under Lethe's Name, with Silence laves
The hollow Banks with its forgetful Waves,
Theron appears. And, when they all upon
Their Feet stood ready, and with Bodies prone,
And panting Hearts, with Heat of Praise elate,
Receiv'd the Signal by the Trumpet: strait,
Starting through Air, as swift as Arrows, by
Extended Nerves enforc'd, away they fly.
And now the Shouts, and Parties divers are:
The Fav'rours by their Fingers hang, and, where
Each Man affects, by Name their Friends excite;
While the fair Troop speeds through the Plain, so light,
Their Feet leave no Impression on the Sand.
All in their Prime; in Face all Comely; and
All swift of Foot; all Worthy to Or'ecome.
Now eager Eurythus the foremost, from
The middle Tract, advanc'd; yet foremost past
But a short Space: when Hesperos as fast
Came up, and press'd upon his Heels, while he
Conceiv'd it was enough for him to be
The Foremost. T'other it suffic'd he might
Yet hope to get before. With that, more light
Their Steps they gather, and with vig'rous Mindes
Drive on their Bodies. While their Beauty findes
Encrease from Labour. When with easy Pase
Theron, who ran the last of all the Race,
Finding his Strength sufficient for the Course,
His Un-spent Vigour with a sudden Force
Employs, and breaks into the Air, so fleet,
You'd think that Mercury with winged Feet
Went his Ethereal Course. Now these, then those,
(The People all admiring) He out-goes;
And lately last, now the Third Victour, press'd
By his swift Steps, dost Hesperos infest.
Nor whom he follows onely: but the Rings
Prime Hope, (advancing with such active Wings)
Amazeth Eurythus; when, Fourth in place,
Tartessos, vainly toiling (if the Race
The other three pursu'd, as they began)
With fiery Theron, that betwixt them ran
His Brother press'd. Which Theron now no more
Enduring rais'd Himself, and got before
Enraged Hesperos. Then onely One
Before him went. And now the Goal begun
With nearer Incitations to enflame
The vex'd behinde. When up they furious came,
And all the Force, that either Toil, or Fear,
Piercing into their Hearts, had left (while there
Could any thing be hop'd for, in a Space
So short) collect. The foremost Two the Race,
With equal Speed pursue, and happily,
The Prizes of a double Victory
(Coming together to the Mark) had won
With Merit, had not Hesperos (who run
Close behinde Theron, and through Anger made
Most Cruel) seiz'd upon his Hair (display'd
On's Milky Neck) and drawn him Back. While thus
The Youth detain'd, Triumphing Eurythus,
A joyful Victour, for the Prize appears,
And the fair Present of an Helmet bears
Away. Their fix'd Rewards the other found,
And with green Wreaths their un-cut Tresses bound.
Each had two Shafts with Native Metal steel'd.
This done; more cruel Conflicts stain the Field.
The Sword's drawn Hand to Hand, and a fair War
They represent. Not such, as Guilty are,
Nor vitious Men are to the Sword design'd:
But such, whom Valour equall'd, and a Minde
Inflam'd with Love of Praise. A perfect Face
Of their past Labours, and of Mars his Race
A worthy Spectacle. Among these were
Two Brothers, who (what will not Princes dare
To act? what Crimes do Scepters want?) engage
In a full Cirque (while the whole their Rage
Condemns) in single Combat for a Throne.
'Twas a dire Custom in their Country, known
Where Orphan Sons their Father's Royal Seat,
With Hazard of their Lives, invade. Both meet
With all the Fury, that a Mad Desire
Of Rule affords, and both at once expire;
Bearing to Ghosts below ambitious Hearts,
Glutted with Blood: and in their Inward parts
With one joynt Thrust, their Swords, push'd on, are drown'd:
And, adding railing Language to each Wound,
Struggling, their angry Souls fly into Air.
Nor could their Ghosts this Enmity forbare:
For, when their Bodies were together brought
Unto one Pyle (as if they still had fought)
The Impious Flames ('tis strange) asunder fly,
Nor would their Ashes there together ly.
The rest with sev'ral Gifts, as was their Share
Of Courage, or of Force, rewarded are.
Some Oxen, that, with Ploughs impress'd, could Till
The Earth: Some Youths, 'mong Tyrian Spoils, with Skill
Accustom'd to explore the Dens of Beasts:
Some Silver Plate, with wealthy Robes, and Crests
Rising on shining Helmets, bore away,
The Spoils, and Trophies of the Libyan Prey.
Then with the Dart they Honour sought (the last
Of these Circensian Games) and strove to cast
Beyond the Mark. Here, Neighbour to that Land,
Where Tagus Pale becomes with golden Sand,
Was Burnus, Famous for his long Descent,
And Line: with Glagus, who the Windes out-went
With his strong Arm. Aconteus too, whose Dart,
In its most speedy Course, the nimblest Hart
Ner'e miss'd. With them Indibilis, who long
In War delighted, now esteem'd among
Confederates of Rome: who often slew
With his sure Shafts the towring Fowl, that flew
Among the Clouds. And stout Ilerdes, who
Could easily surprize the flying Doe.
Burnus, who in the Mark first fix'd his Dart,
Damum receiv'd; a Maid, that mix'd with Art
The milky Fleeces with Getulian Dye.
But, who the next was Honour'd, and that nigh
Unto the Mark a Shaft had thrown, with Joy,
Ilerdes, for Reward, receiv'd a Boy.
The third Palm brave Aconteus had, a Brace
Of Dogs, that would the Boar with Mettle chace.
A Foot, and Hearts with Prizes fix'd inflames.
To th'first a Cask, which, late, upon the Head
Of Hasdrubal, did Pannick Terrour spread
Through all th'Iberian Bands. To him whose Speed.
Next Merited, a Sword there was Decreed,
471
And to the Third, a Bull. The rest forsook
The Cirque: each Man well-pleas'd, and Proud, that they
Two Darts of Native Metal bore away.
Then Hesp'ros, and Tartessos, Lovely Boys,
At once appear with the propitious Voice
Of all the Cirque. Of Tyrian Blood, they came
From Gades. Next (to whom the River's Name
By Corduba was giv'n, when yet a Childe)
In that great Contest, Bæticus was fill'd
With joyfull Hopes. And then, with Yellow-Hair,
(But with a Skin, whose Whiteness might compare
With Snow) did Eurythus with Clamours fill
The Lists. He, bred upon her lofty Hill,
Was thither sent by Setabis, and there,
With trembling Piety, his Parents were.
Then Lamus, and then Sicoris (thy Brood,
Warlike Ilerda) and that drinks the Flood,
Which, under Lethe's Name, with Silence laves
The hollow Banks with its forgetful Waves,
Theron appears. And, when they all upon
Their Feet stood ready, and with Bodies prone,
And panting Hearts, with Heat of Praise elate,
Receiv'd the Signal by the Trumpet: strait,
Starting through Air, as swift as Arrows, by
Extended Nerves enforc'd, away they fly.
And now the Shouts, and Parties divers are:
The Fav'rours by their Fingers hang, and, where
Each Man affects, by Name their Friends excite;
While the fair Troop speeds through the Plain, so light,
Their Feet leave no Impression on the Sand.
All in their Prime; in Face all Comely; and
All swift of Foot; all Worthy to Or'ecome.
Now eager Eurythus the foremost, from
472
But a short Space: when Hesperos as fast
Came up, and press'd upon his Heels, while he
Conceiv'd it was enough for him to be
The Foremost. T'other it suffic'd he might
Yet hope to get before. With that, more light
Their Steps they gather, and with vig'rous Mindes
Drive on their Bodies. While their Beauty findes
Encrease from Labour. When with easy Pase
Theron, who ran the last of all the Race,
Finding his Strength sufficient for the Course,
His Un-spent Vigour with a sudden Force
Employs, and breaks into the Air, so fleet,
You'd think that Mercury with winged Feet
Went his Ethereal Course. Now these, then those,
(The People all admiring) He out-goes;
And lately last, now the Third Victour, press'd
By his swift Steps, dost Hesperos infest.
Nor whom he follows onely: but the Rings
Prime Hope, (advancing with such active Wings)
Amazeth Eurythus; when, Fourth in place,
Tartessos, vainly toiling (if the Race
The other three pursu'd, as they began)
With fiery Theron, that betwixt them ran
His Brother press'd. Which Theron now no more
Enduring rais'd Himself, and got before
Enraged Hesperos. Then onely One
Before him went. And now the Goal begun
With nearer Incitations to enflame
The vex'd behinde. When up they furious came,
And all the Force, that either Toil, or Fear,
Piercing into their Hearts, had left (while there
Could any thing be hop'd for, in a Space
So short) collect. The foremost Two the Race,
473
The Prizes of a double Victory
(Coming together to the Mark) had won
With Merit, had not Hesperos (who run
Close behinde Theron, and through Anger made
Most Cruel) seiz'd upon his Hair (display'd
On's Milky Neck) and drawn him Back. While thus
The Youth detain'd, Triumphing Eurythus,
A joyful Victour, for the Prize appears,
And the fair Present of an Helmet bears
Away. Their fix'd Rewards the other found,
And with green Wreaths their un-cut Tresses bound.
Each had two Shafts with Native Metal steel'd.
This done; more cruel Conflicts stain the Field.
The Sword's drawn Hand to Hand, and a fair War
They represent. Not such, as Guilty are,
Nor vitious Men are to the Sword design'd:
But such, whom Valour equall'd, and a Minde
Inflam'd with Love of Praise. A perfect Face
Of their past Labours, and of Mars his Race
A worthy Spectacle. Among these were
Two Brothers, who (what will not Princes dare
To act? what Crimes do Scepters want?) engage
In a full Cirque (while the whole their Rage
Condemns) in single Combat for a Throne.
'Twas a dire Custom in their Country, known
Where Orphan Sons their Father's Royal Seat,
With Hazard of their Lives, invade. Both meet
With all the Fury, that a Mad Desire
Of Rule affords, and both at once expire;
Bearing to Ghosts below ambitious Hearts,
Glutted with Blood: and in their Inward parts
With one joynt Thrust, their Swords, push'd on, are drown'd:
And, adding railing Language to each Wound,
474
Nor could their Ghosts this Enmity forbare:
For, when their Bodies were together brought
Unto one Pyle (as if they still had fought)
The Impious Flames ('tis strange) asunder fly,
Nor would their Ashes there together ly.
The rest with sev'ral Gifts, as was their Share
Of Courage, or of Force, rewarded are.
Some Oxen, that, with Ploughs impress'd, could Till
The Earth: Some Youths, 'mong Tyrian Spoils, with Skill
Accustom'd to explore the Dens of Beasts:
Some Silver Plate, with wealthy Robes, and Crests
Rising on shining Helmets, bore away,
The Spoils, and Trophies of the Libyan Prey.
Then with the Dart they Honour sought (the last
Of these Circensian Games) and strove to cast
Beyond the Mark. Here, Neighbour to that Land,
Where Tagus Pale becomes with golden Sand,
Was Burnus, Famous for his long Descent,
And Line: with Glagus, who the Windes out-went
With his strong Arm. Aconteus too, whose Dart,
In its most speedy Course, the nimblest Hart
Ner'e miss'd. With them Indibilis, who long
In War delighted, now esteem'd among
Confederates of Rome: who often slew
With his sure Shafts the towring Fowl, that flew
Among the Clouds. And stout Ilerdes, who
Could easily surprize the flying Doe.
Burnus, who in the Mark first fix'd his Dart,
Damum receiv'd; a Maid, that mix'd with Art
The milky Fleeces with Getulian Dye.
But, who the next was Honour'd, and that nigh
Unto the Mark a Shaft had thrown, with Joy,
Ilerdes, for Reward, receiv'd a Boy.
475
Of Dogs, that would the Boar with Mettle chace.
But, when Applause, and Shouts these Honours had
Approv'd: in Scarlet, Lælius, richly clad,
And Younger Scipio, with a chearful Look,
The Names, and Manes of the Dead invoke:
Then, strait, their Jav'lins throw; delighting so
All Honour to their Sacred Dust to show,
And add that Ceremony to the Games.
At length, the General (whose Face proclaims
His inward Joy, when he their Pious Hearts
Rewarded had, with Gifts to their Deserts,
And giv'n a Weighty Corslet, all of Gold,
Unto his Brother, and a Pair of bold
Asturian Steeds to Lælius) rising, threw
With Force his Conqu'ring Jav'lin, and, to shew
The Shades were truely Honour'd, as it flies
Amidst the Field ('tis strange) before their Eyes,
Fix'd in the Earth, the Jav'lin stands, and strait
With Leaves the lofty Boughs themselves dilate.
But now its Shadow, wide, the growing Tree
Extends: the Augurs all, with Prophecy,
Command them on to greater Things to go,
Which, by those Signs, the Deities foreshow.
With this Presage, the Libyans all from Spain
Repuls'd, to Latium he returns again;
His House, and Country both reveng'd, while Fame
The Triumph leads. Nor other Cares inflame
The Romane Breasts, then Libya to commit,
And Sacred Fasces, to his Youth. But yet
The Graver Sort, who fal'n in Courage, or
Success had wanted in that dubious War,
Opposing his Designs as Rash, with Fear
Their Dangers magnifie: and, as he there,
High in the Dignity of Consul, pray'd
Authority of Senate to invade,
And ruin Carthage with his Arms; this grave
Reply, aloud, the Elder Fabius gave.
Approv'd: in Scarlet, Lælius, richly clad,
And Younger Scipio, with a chearful Look,
The Names, and Manes of the Dead invoke:
Then, strait, their Jav'lins throw; delighting so
All Honour to their Sacred Dust to show,
And add that Ceremony to the Games.
At length, the General (whose Face proclaims
His inward Joy, when he their Pious Hearts
Rewarded had, with Gifts to their Deserts,
And giv'n a Weighty Corslet, all of Gold,
Unto his Brother, and a Pair of bold
Asturian Steeds to Lælius) rising, threw
With Force his Conqu'ring Jav'lin, and, to shew
The Shades were truely Honour'd, as it flies
Amidst the Field ('tis strange) before their Eyes,
Fix'd in the Earth, the Jav'lin stands, and strait
With Leaves the lofty Boughs themselves dilate.
But now its Shadow, wide, the growing Tree
Extends: the Augurs all, with Prophecy,
Command them on to greater Things to go,
Which, by those Signs, the Deities foreshow.
With this Presage, the Libyans all from Spain
Repuls'd, to Latium he returns again;
His House, and Country both reveng'd, while Fame
The Triumph leads. Nor other Cares inflame
The Romane Breasts, then Libya to commit,
And Sacred Fasces, to his Youth. But yet
The Graver Sort, who fal'n in Courage, or
Success had wanted in that dubious War,
Opposing his Designs as Rash, with Fear
Their Dangers magnifie: and, as he there,
476
Authority of Senate to invade,
And ruin Carthage with his Arms; this grave
Reply, aloud, the Elder Fabius gave.
I hope, I need not fear, that I, who am
Loaden with Age, and Honour; who in Fame,
And Years abound, should by the Consul be
Esteem'd a Person, that maliciously
From his Just Praises would detract. My Name
Is with sufficient Splendour rais'd by Fame.
Nor wants what I have done, with such Success,
New Praise. But, while I live, 'twere Wickedness,
To my dear Country to be wanting, or
Conceal my Minde in Silence. You the War
Intend to Libya to transferr. For We
Now want an Enemy in Italy.
Nor is't enough, that we have Hannibal
Subdu'd. What greater Honour can in all
Eliza's Land be found? but, if you are
Spur'd on by Glory, what should you Debar
To reap this Harvest? Thee for Deeds at hand
Fortune hath Fit, and Worthy made. Our Land
Ev'n thirsts, to drink the Blood of Hannibal.
Whither the War, or Ensigns do you call,
Extinguish first the Flames of Italy.
You plainly quit a weary Enemy,
And, at that Instant, Rome must Naked stand.
But, when you waste the Syrts, and barren Sand,
Will not that horrid Plague, with Fury, move
'Gainst these known Walls? invade Tarpeian Jove,
Depriv'd of Arms, and Men? Of how great Weight
Is it, should you give Way, and leave the State
To the Emerited? and, when we are
Struck with the Thunder of so great a War,
Must We (as Fulvius from proud Capua) Thee
From Libya's Coast recall? Get Victory
At Home, and Italy, that hath with Tears
Deplor'd the Funerals of Fifteen Years,
Absolve from cruel War; then take your Way
To remote Garamantians. You may
Your Nasamonian Triumphs then design.
But Italy, distress'd, must now Decline
All such Attempts. Your Valiant Father (He,
That so much Honour to your Family
Did add) when, Consul, he was bound for Spain,
Himself 'gainst Hannibal (who then amain
Descended from the Alps) did first oppose,
His Army all recall'd. From Conqu'ring Foes
You (Consul) would retire; that so you may
From Us the Libyan withdraw. But, say,
He will, secure, sit Quiet; nor pursue
You, and your Arms to Libya: will not You
Condemn these blinde Resolves, when Rome shall be
Surpriz'd? Or else suppose, that, troubled, He
Should turn his Ensigns, and your Fleet pursue;
He the same Hannibal will be, that You
Entrench'd have seen before this Citie's Wall.
Loaden with Age, and Honour; who in Fame,
And Years abound, should by the Consul be
Esteem'd a Person, that maliciously
From his Just Praises would detract. My Name
Is with sufficient Splendour rais'd by Fame.
Nor wants what I have done, with such Success,
New Praise. But, while I live, 'twere Wickedness,
To my dear Country to be wanting, or
Conceal my Minde in Silence. You the War
Intend to Libya to transferr. For We
Now want an Enemy in Italy.
Nor is't enough, that we have Hannibal
Subdu'd. What greater Honour can in all
Eliza's Land be found? but, if you are
Spur'd on by Glory, what should you Debar
To reap this Harvest? Thee for Deeds at hand
Fortune hath Fit, and Worthy made. Our Land
Ev'n thirsts, to drink the Blood of Hannibal.
Whither the War, or Ensigns do you call,
Extinguish first the Flames of Italy.
You plainly quit a weary Enemy,
And, at that Instant, Rome must Naked stand.
But, when you waste the Syrts, and barren Sand,
Will not that horrid Plague, with Fury, move
'Gainst these known Walls? invade Tarpeian Jove,
Depriv'd of Arms, and Men? Of how great Weight
Is it, should you give Way, and leave the State
To the Emerited? and, when we are
Struck with the Thunder of so great a War,
477
From Libya's Coast recall? Get Victory
At Home, and Italy, that hath with Tears
Deplor'd the Funerals of Fifteen Years,
Absolve from cruel War; then take your Way
To remote Garamantians. You may
Your Nasamonian Triumphs then design.
But Italy, distress'd, must now Decline
All such Attempts. Your Valiant Father (He,
That so much Honour to your Family
Did add) when, Consul, he was bound for Spain,
Himself 'gainst Hannibal (who then amain
Descended from the Alps) did first oppose,
His Army all recall'd. From Conqu'ring Foes
You (Consul) would retire; that so you may
From Us the Libyan withdraw. But, say,
He will, secure, sit Quiet; nor pursue
You, and your Arms to Libya: will not You
Condemn these blinde Resolves, when Rome shall be
Surpriz'd? Or else suppose, that, troubled, He
Should turn his Ensigns, and your Fleet pursue;
He the same Hannibal will be, that You
Entrench'd have seen before this Citie's Wall.
This Fabius, and the like was urg'd by all
The Elder sort. The Consul strait reply'd.
By a joynt Death two Valiant Captains dy'd,
When Spain, possess'd, embrac'd the Libyan Yoak.
Not Fabius then, nor Any, that have spoke
His Sense, afforded Aid. I know, 'tis Truth,
The War's whole Fury I, when but a Youth
Endur'd, and to the falling Shafts alone
My Head expos'd, and drew all Dangers on
My self. And then the Seniour Sort, and ev'n
This Prophet murmur'd, that the War was giv'n
Unto a Boy, and blam'd Our rash Design.
But I all Praises to the Pow'rs Divine
(By whom a Trojan People we remain)
With Thanks return. That very Boy, those vain,
And Childish Years, that Scipio, who was then
Unripe for Arms, to You, un-hurt, agen
Hath giv'n all Spain; the Libyans thence by Force
Repuls'd, and, following the farthest Course
Of Sol to Atlas Bounds, the Libyan Name
Expell'd from the Hesperian Orb; nor came
With his Victorious Ensigns Home, before
He Phœbus saw, upon the Romane Shore,
Loosing his Flaming Chariot, near the Main.
The same to you did foreign Kings regain.
And Carthage now remains, the last of all
My Toils. This Jove declares. See! Hannibal
Old Age now shakes, or fainting Fears doth frame;
Lest to our Ruins, of such Length, my Name
A Period should produce. My Valour I
Have surely try'd, and Strength, augmented by
My Prime of Years. Then seek not to delay:
But rather suffer, that this Lot I may
Pursue. This the Immortal Gods for Me
Have kept, to wipe away the Infamy
Of former Woes. It is a fair Renown,
For Wary Fabius not to be or'ethrown:
And the Delayer hath effected all
For Us by sitting still. But Hasdrubal,
Mago, nor Hanno, nor yet Giscon's Son
Had turn'd their Backs, if we the like had done:
Or, Idle, close entrench'd, spun out the War.
Could a Sidonian Boy, who scarce did bear
The Down of Youth upon his Cheeks, invade
Laurentine People? Walls approach, were made
By Trojan Hands? and drink the Sacred Stream
Of Yellow Tyber? and in Latium seem,
By a long War, to share? and shall We stand
Thus backward to transport to Libya's Land
Our Ensigns? and the Tyrian Tow'rs destroy?
Their Coasts, secure of Danger, openly,
And all the Land a rich Tranquillity
Enjoys. At length let Carthage (wont to be
A Terrour) learn to Fear, and understand,
That, though from Hannibal th'Oenotrian Land
As yet's not free, we want not Arms. Ev'n I
This Man, that hath, so long, in Italy
(Till He's grown old through cautious Counsels) stood,
That hath three Lustra, largely, shed our Blood,
Him, fearing Cruel things, and trembling, I
Back to his Country, that in Flames shall ly,
Will turn. The Shameful Marks of Tyrian Hands
Shall Rome view on her Walls: while Carthage stands
Free, and secure, and hears our Misery,
And wars with open Gates? The Enemy
May batter then with their Sidonian Rams
Our Tow'rs again, if first in Romane Flames
They hear not that their Country's Temples fall.
The Elder sort. The Consul strait reply'd.
By a joynt Death two Valiant Captains dy'd,
When Spain, possess'd, embrac'd the Libyan Yoak.
Not Fabius then, nor Any, that have spoke
His Sense, afforded Aid. I know, 'tis Truth,
The War's whole Fury I, when but a Youth
Endur'd, and to the falling Shafts alone
My Head expos'd, and drew all Dangers on
My self. And then the Seniour Sort, and ev'n
This Prophet murmur'd, that the War was giv'n
478
But I all Praises to the Pow'rs Divine
(By whom a Trojan People we remain)
With Thanks return. That very Boy, those vain,
And Childish Years, that Scipio, who was then
Unripe for Arms, to You, un-hurt, agen
Hath giv'n all Spain; the Libyans thence by Force
Repuls'd, and, following the farthest Course
Of Sol to Atlas Bounds, the Libyan Name
Expell'd from the Hesperian Orb; nor came
With his Victorious Ensigns Home, before
He Phœbus saw, upon the Romane Shore,
Loosing his Flaming Chariot, near the Main.
The same to you did foreign Kings regain.
And Carthage now remains, the last of all
My Toils. This Jove declares. See! Hannibal
Old Age now shakes, or fainting Fears doth frame;
Lest to our Ruins, of such Length, my Name
A Period should produce. My Valour I
Have surely try'd, and Strength, augmented by
My Prime of Years. Then seek not to delay:
But rather suffer, that this Lot I may
Pursue. This the Immortal Gods for Me
Have kept, to wipe away the Infamy
Of former Woes. It is a fair Renown,
For Wary Fabius not to be or'ethrown:
And the Delayer hath effected all
For Us by sitting still. But Hasdrubal,
Mago, nor Hanno, nor yet Giscon's Son
Had turn'd their Backs, if we the like had done:
Or, Idle, close entrench'd, spun out the War.
Could a Sidonian Boy, who scarce did bear
The Down of Youth upon his Cheeks, invade
Laurentine People? Walls approach, were made
479
Of Yellow Tyber? and in Latium seem,
By a long War, to share? and shall We stand
Thus backward to transport to Libya's Land
Our Ensigns? and the Tyrian Tow'rs destroy?
Their Coasts, secure of Danger, openly,
And all the Land a rich Tranquillity
Enjoys. At length let Carthage (wont to be
A Terrour) learn to Fear, and understand,
That, though from Hannibal th'Oenotrian Land
As yet's not free, we want not Arms. Ev'n I
This Man, that hath, so long, in Italy
(Till He's grown old through cautious Counsels) stood,
That hath three Lustra, largely, shed our Blood,
Him, fearing Cruel things, and trembling, I
Back to his Country, that in Flames shall ly,
Will turn. The Shameful Marks of Tyrian Hands
Shall Rome view on her Walls: while Carthage stands
Free, and secure, and hears our Misery,
And wars with open Gates? The Enemy
May batter then with their Sidonian Rams
Our Tow'rs again, if first in Romane Flames
They hear not that their Country's Temples fall.
The Fathers, by this Language, and the Call
Of Fate inflam'd, to what the Consul said,
At the same Time, assent; and, when they'd pray'd,
That it to Italy might happy prove,
Permit the War to Libya to remove.
Of Fate inflam'd, to what the Consul said,
At the same Time, assent; and, when they'd pray'd,
That it to Italy might happy prove,
Permit the War to Libya to remove.
The End of the Sixteenth Book.
| The Second Punick War Between Hannibal, and the Romanes | |