University of Virginia Library

SCEN. IV.

Sertorius, in Triumph, crown'd with Laurel; attended by Perpenna, Aufidius, Manlius, Crassus, Ligurius, Decius. They alight from the Chariots.
Sert.
The Gods the justness of our Cause have shown,
And made the Air direct the Darts we flung,
While Victory did hover o'r our Arms.
Pompey, whose rashness spur'd him on to fight,
Thinking that Fortune, which he elswhere found,
Lacquy'd him here; but the unconstant Dame,
Viewing the mighty havock that we made,
Slighted his youth, and fled unto our Camp.

Perp.
Memnius no more shall boast his mighty deeds,
Unless in the Infernal Shades, whose Shores
Swarm with the wretched Ghosts of Romans slain;
That Charon, groaning with the mighty toyl,
Calls for more aid of Pluto, and bemoans
His endless labor. Where's Rome's General now?
Where fled to hide himself? He's bound to bless
The gaudy Trappings which adorn'd his Horse,
Whose sparkling Gems dazled the barbarous eyes
Fix'd on the object: h'had been Captive else:
Metellus force came timely to his aid.

Sert.
It did, Perpenna; else we' had whipt him home,
Wailing his loss, unto his Patron Sylla.
But, when he views the Slaughter we have made,
The num'erous Slain, which ly as Autumn leaves;
He'l find destruction waits upon our Swords,
And, when he fights with us, he Combats Fate.