BOOK I
The Crossing of the Rubicon

 

     Wars worse than civil on Emathian 1 plains,

     And crime let loose we sing; how Rome's high race

     Plunged in her vitals her victorious sword;

     Armies akin embattled, with the force

     Of all the shaken earth bent on the fray;

     And burst asunder, to the common guilt,

     A kingdom's compact; eagle with eagle met,

     Standard to standard, spear opposed to spear.

 

     Whence, citizens, this rage, this boundless lust

10   To sate barbarians with the blood of Rome?

     Did not the shade of Crassus, wandering still, 2

     Cry for his vengeance?  Could ye not have spoiled,

     To deck your trophies, haughty Babylon?

     Why wage campaigns that send no laurels home?

     What lands, what oceans might have been the prize

     Of all the blood thus shed in civil strife!

     Where Titan rises, where night hides the stars,

     'Neath southern noons all quivering with heat,

     Or where keen frost that never yields to spring

20   In icy fetters binds the Scythian main:

     Long since barbarians by the Eastern sea

     And far Araxes' stream, and those who know

     (If any such there be) the birth of Nile

     Had felt our yoke.  Then, Rome, upon thyself

     With all the world beneath thee, if thou must,

     Wage this nefarious war, but not till then.

 

     Now view the houses with half-ruined walls

     Throughout Italian cities; stone from stone

    Has slipped and lies at length; within the home

30   No guard is found, and in the ancient streets so

     Scarce seen the passer by.  The fields in vain,

     Rugged with brambles and unploughed for years,

     Ask for the hand of man; for man is not.

     Nor savage Pyrrhus nor the Punic horde

     E'er caused such havoc: to no foe was given

     To strike thus deep; but civil strife alone

     Dealt the fell wound and left the death behind.

     Yet if the fates could find no other way 3

     For Nero coming, nor the gods with ease

40   Gain thrones in heaven; and if the Thunderer

     Prevailed not till the giant's war was done,

     Complaint is silent.  For this boon supreme

     Welcome, ye gods, be wickedness and crime;

     Thronged with our dead be dire Pharsalia's fields,

     Be Punic ghosts avenged by Roman blood;

     Add to these ills the toils of Mutina;

     Perusia's dearth; on Munda's final field

     The shock of battle joined; let Leucas' Cape

     Shatter the routed navies; servile hands

50   Unsheath the sword on fiery Etna's slopes:

     Still Rome is gainer by the civil war.

     Thou, Caesar, art her prize.  When thou shalt choose,

     Thy watch relieved, to seek divine abodes,

     All heaven rejoicing; and shalt hold a throne,

     Or else elect to govern Phoebus' car

     And light a subject world that shall not dread

     To owe her brightness to a different Sun;

     All shall concede thy right: do what thou wilt,

     Select thy Godhead, and the central clime

60   Whence thou shalt rule the world with power divine.

     And yet the Northern or the Southern Pole

     We pray thee, choose not; but in rays direct

     Vouchsafe thy radiance to thy city Rome.

     Press thou on either side, the universe

     Should lose its equipoise: take thou the midst,

     And weight the scales, and let that part of heaven

     Where Caesar sits, be evermore serene

     And smile upon us with unclouded blue.

     Then may all men lay down their arms, and peace

70   Through all the nations reign, and shut the gates

     That close the temple of the God of War.

     Be thou my help, to me e'en now divine!

     Let Delphi's steep her own Apollo guard,

     And Nysa keep her Bacchus, uninvoked.

     Rome is my subject and my muse art thou!

 

     First of such deeds I purpose to unfold

     The causes -- task immense -- what drove to arms

     A maddened nation, and from all the world

     Struck peace away.

 

                         By envious fate's decrees

80   Abide not long the mightiest lords of earth;

     Beneath too heavy a burden great the fall.

     Thus Rome o'ergrew her strength.  So when that hour,

     The last in all the centuries, shall sound

     The world's disruption, all things shall revert

     To that primaeval chaos, stars on stars

     Shall crash; and fiery meteors from the sky

     Plunge in the ocean.  Earth shall then no more

     Front with her bulwark the encroaching sea:

     The moon, indignant at her path oblique,

90   Shall drive her chariot 'gainst her brother Sun

     And claim the day for hers; and discord huge

     Shall rend the spheres asunder.

                                        On themselves

     Great powers are dashed: such bounds the gods have placed

     Upon the prosperous; nor doth Fortune lend

     To any nations, so that they may strike

     The sovereign power that rules the earth and sea,

     The weapons of her envy.  Triple reign

     And baleful compact for divided power --

     Ne'er without peril separate before --

100  Made Rome their victim.  Oh!  Ambition blind,

     That stirred the leaders so to join their strength

     In peace that ended ill, their prize the world!

     For while the Sea on Earth and Earth on Air

     Lean for support: while Titan runs his course,

     And night with day divides an equal sphere,

     No king shall brook his fellow, nor shall power

     Endure a rival.  Search no foreign lands:

     These walls are proof that in their infant days

     A hamlet, not the world, was prize enough

110  To cause the shedding of a brother's blood.

 

     Concord, on discord based, brief time endured,

     Unwelcome to the rivals; and alone

     Crassus delayed the advent of the war.

     Like to the slender neck that separates

     The seas of Graecia: should it be engulfed

     Then would th' Ionian and Aegean mains 4

     Break each on other: thus when Crassus fell,

     Who held apart the chiefs, in piteous death,

     And stained Assyria's plains with Latian blood,

120  Defeat in Parthia loosed the war in Rome.

     More in that victory than ye thought was won,

     Ye sons of Arsaces; your conquered foes

     Took at your hands the rage of civil strife.

     The mighty realm that earth and sea contained,

     To which all peoples bowed, split by the sword,

     Could not find space for two 5.  For Julia bore,

     Cut off by fate unpitying6, the bond

     Of that ill-omened marriage, and the pledge

     Of blood united, to the shades below.

130  Had'st thou but longer stayed, it had been thine

     To keep the husband and the sire apart,

     And, as the Sabine women did of old,

     Dash down the threatening swords and join the hands.

     With thee all trust was buried, and the chiefs

     Could give their courage vent, and rushed to war.

 

     Lest newer glories triumphs past obscure,

     Late conquered Gaul the bays from pirates won,

     This, Magnus, was thy fear; thy roll of fame,

     Of glorious deeds accomplished for the state

140  Allows no equal; nor will Caesar's pride

     A prior rival in his triumphs brook;

     Which had the right 'twere impious to enquire;

     Each for his cause can vouch a judge supreme;

     The victor, heaven: the vanquished, Cato, thee. 7

     Nor were they like to like: the one in years

     Now verging towards decay, in times of peace

     Had unlearned war; but thirsting for applause

     Had given the people much, and proud of fame

     His former glory cared not to renew,

150  But joyed in plaudits of the theatre, 8

     His gift to Rome: his triumphs in the past,

     Himself the shadow of a mighty name.

     As when some oak, in fruitful field sublime,

     Adorned with venerable spoils, and gifts

     Of bygone leaders, by its weight to earth

     With feeble roots still clings; its naked arms

     And hollow trunk, though leafless, give a shade;

     And though condemned beneath the tempest's shock

     To speedy fall, amid the sturdier trees

160  In sacred grandeur rules the forest still.

     No such repute had Ceesar won, nor fame;

     But energy was his that could not rest --

     The only shame he knew was not to win.

     Keen and unvanquished 9, where revenge or hope

     Might call, resistless would he strike the blow

     With sword unpitying: every victory won

     Reaped to the full; the favour of the gods

     Pressed to the utmost; all that stayed his course

     Aimed at the summit of power, was thrust aside:

170  Triumph his joy, though ruin marked his track.

     As parts the clouds a bolt by winds compelled,

     With crack of riven air and crash of worlds,

     And veils the light of day, and on mankind,

     Blasting their vision with its flames oblique,

     Sheds deadly fright; then turning to its home, '

     Nought but the air opposing, through its path

     Spreads havoc, and collects its scattered fires.

 

     Such were the hidden motives of the chiefs;

     But in the public life the seeds of war

180  Their hold had taken, such as are the doom

     Of potent nations: and when fortune poured

     Through Roman gates the booty of a world,

     The curse of luxury, chief bane of states,

     Fell on her sons.  Farewell the ancient ways!

     Behold the pomp profuse, the houses decked

     With ornament; their hunger loathed the food

     Of former days; men wore attire for dames

     Scarce fitly fashioned; poverty was scorned,

     Fruitful of warriors; and from all the world

190  Came that which ruins nations; while the fields

     Furrowed of yore by great Camillus' plough,

     Or by the mattock which a Curius held,

     Lost their once narrow bounds, and widening tracts

     By hinds unknown were tilled.  No nation this

     To sheathe the sword, with tranquil peace content

     And with her liberties; but prone to ire;

     Crime holding light as though by want compelled:

     And great the glory in the minds of men,

     Ambition lawful even at point of sword,

200  To rise above their country: might their law:

     Decrees are forced from Senate and from Plebs:

     Consul and Tribune break the laws alike:

     Bought are the fasces, and the people sell

     For gain their favour: bribery's fatal curse

     Corrupts the annual contests of the Field.

     Then covetous usury rose, and interest

     Was greedier ever as the seasons came;

     Faith tottered; thousands saw their gain in war.

 

     Caesar has crossed the Alps, his mighty soul

210  Great tumults pondering and the coming shock.

     Now on the marge of Rubicon, he saw,

     In face most sorrowful and ghostly guise,

     His trembling country's image; huge it seemed

     Through mists of night obscure; and hoary hair

     Streamed from the lofty front with turrets crowned:

     Torn were her locks and naked were her arms.

     Then thus, with broken sighs the Vision spake:

     "What seek ye, men of Rome?  and whither hence

     Bear ye my standards?  If by right ye come,

220  My citizens, stay here; these are the bounds;

     No further dare."  But Caesar's hair was stiff

     With horror as he gazed, and ghastly dread

     Restrained his footsteps on the further bank.

     Then spake he, "Thunderer, who from the rock

     Tarpeian seest the wall of mighty Rome;

     Gods of my race who watched o'er Troy of old;

     Thou Jove of Alba's height, and Vestal fires,

     And rites of Romulus erst rapt to heaven,

     And God-like Rome; be friendly to my quest.

230  Not with offence or hostfie arms I come,

     Thy Caesar, conqueror by land and sea,

     Thy soldier here and wheresoe'er thou wilt:

     No other's; his, his only be the guilt

     Whose acts make me thy foe.'  He gives the word

     And bids his standards cross the swollen stream.

     So in the wastes of Afric's burning clime

     The lion crouches as his foes draw near,

     Feeding his wrath the while, his lashing tail

     Provokes his fury; stiff upon his neck

240  Bristles his mane: deep from his gaping jaws

     Resounds a muttered growl, and should a lance

     Or javelin reach him from the hunter's ring,

     Scorning the puny scratch he bounds afield.

 

     From modest fountain blood-red Rubicon

     In summer's heat flows on; his pigmy tide

     Creeps through the valleys and with slender marge

     Divides the Italian peasant from the Gaul.

     Then winter gave him strength, and fraught with rain

     The third day's crescent moon; while Eastern winds

250  Thawed from the Alpine slopes the yielding snow.

     The cavalry first form across the stream '

     To break the torrent's force; the rest with ease

     Beneath their shelter gain the further bank.

     When Csesar crossed and trod beneath his feet

     The soil of Italy's forbidden fields,

     "Here," spake he, "peace, here broken laws be left;

     Farewell to treaties.  Fortune, lead me on;

     War is our judge, and in the fates our trust."

     Then in the shades of night he leads the troops

260  Swifter than Balearic sling or shaft

     Winged by retreating Parthian, to the walls

     Of threatened Rimini, while fled the stars,

     Save Lucifer, before the coming sun,

     Whose fires were veiled in clouds, by south wind driven,

     Or else at heaven's command: and thus drew on

     The first dark morning of the civil war.

 

     Now stand the troops within the captured town,

     Their standards planted; and the trumpet clang

     Rings forth in harsh alarums, giving note

270  Of impious strife: roused from their sleep the men

     Rush to the hall and snatch the ancient arms

     Long hanging through the years of peace; the shield

     With crumbling frame; dark with the tooth of rust

     Their swords 10; and javelins with blunted point.

     But when the well-known signs and eagles shone,

     And Caesar towering o'er the throng was seen,

     They shook for terror, fear possessed their limbs,

     And thoughts unuttered stirred within their souls.

     "O miserable those to whom their home

280  Denies the peace that all men else enjoy!

     Placed as we are beside the Northern bounds

     And scarce a footstep from the restless Gaul,

     We fall the first; would that our lot had been

     Beneath the Eastern sky, or frozen North,

     To lead a wandering life, rather than keep

     The gates of Latium.  Brennus sacked the town

     And Hannibal, and all the Teuton hosts.

     For when the fate of Rome is in the scale

     By this path war advances."  Thus they moan

290  Their fears but speak them not; no sound is heard

     Giving their anguish utterance: as when

     In depth of winter all the fields are still,

     The birds are voiceless and no sound is heard

     To break the silence of the central sea.

     But when the day had broken through the shades

     Of chilly darkness, lo!  the torch of war!

     For by the hand of Fate is swift dispersed

     All Caesar's shame of battle, and his mind

     Scarce doubted more; and Fortune toiled to make

300  His action just and give him cause for arms.

     For while Rome doubted and the tongues of men

     Spoke of the chiefs who won them rights of yore,

     The hostile Senate, in contempt of right,

     Drove out the Tribunes.  They to Caesar's camp

     With Curio hasten, who of venal tongue,

     Bold, prompt, persuasive, had been wont to preach

     Of Freedom to the people, and to call

     Upon the chiefs to lay their weapons down 11.

     And when he saw how deeply Caesar mused,

310  "While from the rostrum I had power," he said,

     To call the populace to aid thy cause,

     By this my voice against the Senate's will

     Was thy command prolonged.  But silenced now

     Are laws in war: we driven from our homes;

     Yet is our exile willing; for thine arms

     Shall make us citizens of Rome again.

     Strike; for no strength as yet the foe hath gained.

     Occasion calls, delay shall mar it soon:

     Like risk, like labour, thou hast known before,

320  But never such reward.  Could Gallia hold

     Thine armies ten long years ere victory came,

     That little nook of earth?  One paltry fight

     Or twain, fought out by thy resistless hand,

     And Rome for thee shall have subdued the world:

     'Tis true no triumph now would bring thee home;

     No captive tribes would grace thy chariot wheels

     Winding in pomp around the ancient hill.

     Spite gnaws the factions; for thy conquests won

     Scarce shalt thou be unpunished.  Yet 'tis fate

330  Thou should'st subdue thy kinsman: share the world

     With him thou canst not; rule thou canst, alone."

     As when at Elis' festival a horse

     In stable pent gnaws at his prison bars

     Impatient, and should clamour from without

     Strike on his ear, bounds furious at restraint,

     So then was Caesar, eager for the fight,

     Stirred by the words of Curio.  To the ranks

     He bids his soldiers; with majestic mien

     And hand commanding silence as they come.

340  "Comrades," he cried, "victorious returned,

     Who by my side for ten long years have faced,

     'Mid Alpine winters and on Arctic shores,

     The thousand dangers of the battle-field --

     Is this our country's welcome, this her prize

     For death and wounds and Roman blood outpoured?

     Rome arms her choicest sons; the sturdy oaks

     Are felled to make a fleet; -- what could she more

     If from the Alps fierce Hannibal were come

     With all his Punic host?  By land and sea

350  Caesar shall fly!  Fly?  Though in adverse war

     Our best had fallen, and the savage Gaul

     Were hard upon our track, we would not fly.

     And now, when fortune smiles and kindly gods

     Beckon us on to glory! -- Let him come

     Fresh from his years of peace, with all his crowd

     Of conscript burgesses, Marcellus' tongue 12

     And Cato's empty name!  We will not fly.

     Shall Eastern hordes and greedy hirelings keep

     Their loved Pompeius ever at the helm?

360  Shall chariots of triumph be for him

     Though youth and law forbad them?  Shall he seize

     On Rome's chief honours ne'er to be resigned?

     And what of harvests 13 blighted through the world

     And ghastly famine made to serve his ends?

     Who hath forgotten how Pompeius' bands

     Seized on the forum, and with glittering arms

     Made outraged justice tremble, while their swords

     Hemmed in the judgment-seat where Milo 14 stood?

     And now when worn and old and ripe for rest 15,

370  Greedy of power, the impious sword again

     He draws.  As tigers in Hyrcanian woods

     Wandering, or in the caves that saw their birth,

     Once having lapped the blood of slaughtered kine,

     Shall never cease from rage; e'en so this whelp

     Of cruel Sulla, nursed in civil war,

     Outstrips his master; and the tongue which licked

     That reeking weapon ever thirsts for more.

     Stain once the lips with blood, no other meal

     They shall enjoy.  And shall there be no end

380  Of these long years of power and of crime?

     Nay, this one lesson, e'er it be too late,

     Learn of thy gentle Sulla -- to retire!

     Of old his victory o'er Cilician thieves

     And Pontus' weary monarch gave him fame,

     By poison scarce attained.  His latest prize

     Shall I be, Caesar, I, who would not quit

     My conquering eagles at his proud command?

     Nay, if no triumph is reserved for me,

     Let these at least of long and toilsome war

390  'Neath other leaders the rewards enjoy.

     Where shall the weary soldier find his rest?

     What cottage homes their joys, what fields their fruit

     Shall to our veterans yield?  Will Magnus say

     That pirates only till the fields alight?

     Unfurl your standards; victory gilds them yet,

     As through those glorious years.  Deny our rights!

     He that denies them makes our quarrel just.

     Nay!  use the strength that we have made our own.

     No booty seek we, nor imperial power.

400  This would-be ruler of subservient Rome

     We force to quit his grasp; and Heaven shall smile

     On those who seek to drag the tyrant down."

 

     Thus Caesar spake; but doubtful murmurs ran

     Throughout the listening crowd, this way and that

     Their wishes urging them; the thoughts of home

     And household gods and kindred gave them pause:

     But fear of Caesar and the pride of war

     Their doubts resolved.  Then Laelius, who wore

     The well-earned crown for Roman life preserved,

410  The foremost Captain of the army, spake:

     "O greatest leader of the Roman name,

     If 'tis thy wish the very truth to hear

     'Tis mine to speak it; we complain of this,

     That gifted with such strength thou did'st refrain

     From using it.  Had'st thou no trust in us?

     While the hot life-blood fills these glowing veins,

     While these strong arms avail to hurl the lance,

     Wilt thou make peace and bear the Senate's rule?

     Is civil conquest then so base and vile?

420  Lead us through Scythian deserts, lead us where

     The inhospitable Syrtes line the shore

     Of Afric's burning sands, or where thou wilt:

     This hand, to leave a conquered world behind,

     Held firm the oar that tamed the Northern Sea

     And Rhine's swift torrent foaming to the main.

     To follow thee fate gives me now the power:

     The will was mine before.  No citizen

     I count the man 'gainst whom thy trumpets sound.

     By ten campaigns of victory, I swear,

430  By all thy world-wide triumphs, though with hand

     Unwilling, should'st thou now demand the life

     Of sire or brother or of faithful spouse,

     Caesar, the life were thine.  To spoil the gods

     And sack great Juno's temple on the hill,

     To plant our arms o'er Tiber's yellow stream,

     To measure out the camp, against the wall

     To drive the fatal ram, and raze the town,

     This arm shall not refuse, though Rome the prize."

 

     His comrades swore consent with lifted hands

440  And vowed to follow wheresoe'er he led.

     And such a clamour rent the sky as when

     Some Thracian blast on Ossa's pine-clad rocks

     Falls headlong, and the loud re-echoing woods,

     Or bending, or rebounding from the stroke,

     In sounding chorus lift the roar on high.

 

     When Csesar saw them welcome thus the war

     And Fortune leading on, and favouring fates,

     He seized the moment, called his troops from Gaul,

     And breaking up his camp set on for Rome.

 

450  The tents are vacant by Lake Leman's side;

     The camps upon the beetling crags of Vosges

     No longer hold the warlike Lingon down,

     Fierce in his painted arms; Isere is left,

     Who past his shallows gliding, flows at last

     Into the current of more famous Rhone,

     To reach the ocean in another name.

     The fair-haired people of Cevennes are free:

     Soft Aude rejoicing bears no Roman keel,

     Nor pleasant Var, since then Italia's bound;

460  The harbour sacred to Alcides' name

     Where hollow crags encroach upon the sea,

     Is left in freedom: there nor Zephyr gains

     Nor Caurus access, but the Circian blast 16

     Forbids the roadstead by Monaecus' hold.

     And others left the doubtful shore, which sea

     And land alternate claim, whene'er the tide

     Pours in amain or when the wave rolls back --

     Be it the wind which thus compels the deep

     From furthest pole, and leaves it at the flood;

470  Or else the moon that makes the tide to swell,

     Or else, in search of fuel 17 for his fires,

     The sun draws heavenward the ocean wave; --

     Whate'er the cause that may control the main

     I leave to others; let the gods for me

     Lock in their breasts the secrets of the world.

 

     Those who kept watch beside the western shore

     Have moved their standards home; the happy Gaul

     Rejoices in their absence; fair Garonne

     Through peaceful meads glides onward to the sea.

480  And where the river broadens, neath the cape

     Her quiet harbour sleeps.  No outstretched arm

     Except in mimic war now hurls the lance.

     No skilful warrior of Seine directs

     The scythed chariot 'gainst his country's foe.

     Now rest the Belgians, and the Arvernian race

     That boasts our kinship by descent from Troy;

     And those brave rebels whose undaunted hands

     Were dipped in Cotta's blood, and those who wear

     Sarmatian garb.  Batavia's warriors fierce

490  No longer listen for the bugle call,

     Nor those who dwell where Rhone's swift eddies sweep

     Saone to the ocean; nor the mountain tribes

     Who dwell about its source.  Thou, too, oh Treves,

     Rejoicest that the war has left thy bounds.

     Ligurian tribes, now shorn, in ancient days

     First of the long-haired nations, on whose necks

     Once flowed the auburn locks in pride supreme;

     And those who pacify with blood accursed

     Savage Teutates, Hesus' horrid shrines,

500  And Taranis' altars cruel as were those

     Loved by Diana 18, goddess of the north;

     All these now rest in peace.  And you, ye Bards,

     Whose martial lays send down to distant times

     The fame of valorous deeds in battle done,

     Pour forth in safety more abundant song.

     While you, ye Druids 19, when the war was done,

     To mysteries strange and hateful rites returned:

     To you alone 'tis given the gods and stars

     To know or not to know; secluded groves

510  Your dwelling-place, and forests far remote.

     If what ye sing be true, the shades of men

     Seek not the dismal homes of Erebus

     Or death's pale kingdoms; but the breath of life

     Still rules these bodies in another age --

     Life on this hand and that, and death between.

     Happy the peoples 'neath the Northern Star

     In this their false belief; for them no fear

     Of that which frights all others: they with hands

     And hearts undaunted rush upon the foe

520  And scorn to spare the life that shall return.

     Ye too depart who kept the banks of Rhine

     Safe from the foe, and leave the Teuton tribes

     Free at their will to march upon the world.

 

     Caesar, with strength increased and gathered troops

     New efforts daring, spreads his bands afar

     Through Italy, and fills the neighbouring towns.

     Then empty rumour to well-grounded fear

     Gave strength, and heralding the coming war

     In hundred voices 'midst the people spread.

530  One cries in terror, "Swift the squadrons come

     Where Nar with Tiber joins: and where, in meads

     By oxen loved, Mevania spreads her walls,

     Fierce Caesar hurries his barbarian horse.

     Eagles and standards wave above his head,

     And broad the march that sweeps across the land."

     Nor is he pictured truly; greater far

     More fierce and pitiless -- from conquered foes

     Advancing; in his rear the peoples march.

     Snatched from their homes between the Rhine and Alps,

540  To pillage Rome while Roman chiefs look on.

     Thus each man's panic thought swells rumour's lie:

     They fear the phantoms they themselves create.

     Nor does the terror seize the crowd alone:

     But fled the Fathers, to the Consuls 20 first

     Issuing their hated order, as for war;

     And doubting of their safety, doubting too

     Where lay the peril, through the choking gates,

     Each where he would, rushed all the people forth.

     Thou would'st believe that blazing to the torch

550  Were men's abodes, or nodding to their fall.

     So streamed they onwards, frenzied with affright,

     As though in exile only could they find

     Hope for their country.  So, when southern blasts

     From Libyan whirlpools drive the boundless main,

     And mast and sail crash down upon a ship

     With ponderous weight, but still the frame is sound,

     Her crew and captain leap into the sea,

     Each making shipwreck for himself. 'Twas thus

     They passed the city gates and fled to war.

560  No aged parent now could stay his son;

     Nor wife her spouse, nor did they pray the gods

     To grant the safety of their fatherland.

     None linger on the threshold for a look

     Of their loved city, though perchance the last.

 

     Ye gods, who lavish priceless gifts on men,

     Nor care to guard them, see victorious Rome

     Teeming with life, chief city of the world,

     With ample walls that all mankind might hold,

     To coming Caesar left an easy prey.

570  The Roman soldier, when in foreign lands

     Pressed by the enemy, in narrow trench

     And hurried mound finds guard enough to make

     His slumber safe; but thou, imperial Rome,

     Alone on rumour of advancing foes

     Art left a desert, and thy battlements

     They trust not for one night.  Yet for their fear

     This one excuse was left; Pompeius fled.

     Nor found they room for hope; for nature gave

     Unerring portents of worse ills to come.

580  The angry gods filled earth and air and sea

     With frequent prodigies; in darkest nights

     Strange constellations sparkled through the gloom:

     The pole was all afire, and torches flew

     Across the depths of heaven; with horrid hair

     A blazing comet stretched from east to west

     And threatened change to kingdoms.  From the blue

     Pale lightning flashed, and in the murky air

     The fire took divers shapes; a lance afar

     Would seem to quiver or a misty torch;

590  A noiseless thunderbolt from cloudless sky

     Rushed down, and drawing fire in northern parts

     Plunged on the summit of the Alban mount.

     The stars that run their courses in the night

     Shone in full daylight; and the orbed moon,

     Hid by the shade of earth, grew pale and wan.

     The sun himself, when poised in mid career,

     Shrouded his burning car in blackest gloom

     And plunged the world in darkness, so that men

     Despaired of day -- like as he veiled his light

600  From that fell banquet which Mycenae saw 21.

     The jaws of Etna were agape with flame

    That rose not heavenwards, but headlong fell

     In smoking stream upon the Italian flank.

     Then black Charybdis, from her boundless depth,

     Threw up a gory sea.  In piteous tones

     Howled the wild dogs; the Vestal fire was snatched

     From off the altar; and the flame that crowned

     The Latin festival was split in twain,

     As on the Theban pyre 22, in ancient days;

610  Earth tottered on its base: the mighty Alps

     From off their summits shook th' eternal snow 23.

     In huge upheaval Ocean raised his waves

     O'er Calpe's rock and Atlas' hoary head.

     The native gods shed tears, and holy sweat

     Dropped from the idols; gifts in temples fell:

     Foul birds defiled the day; beasts left the woods

     And made their lair among the streets of Rome.

     All this we hear; nay more: dumb oxen spake;

     Monsters were brought to birth and mothers shrieked

620  At their own offspring; words of dire import

     From Cumae's prophetess were noised abroad.

     Bellona's priests with bleeding arms, and slaves

     Of Cybele's worship, with ensanguined hair,

     Howled chants of havoc and of woe to men.

     Arms clashed; and sounding in the pathless woods

     Were heard strange voices; spirits walked the earth:

     And dead men's ashes muttered from the urn.

     Those who live near the walls desert their homes,

     For lo!  with hissing serpents in her hair,

630  Waving in downward whirl a blazing pine,

     A fiend patrols the town, like that which erst

     At Thebes urged on Agave 24, or which hurled

     Lycurgus' bolts, or that which as he came

     From Hades seen, at haughty Juno's word,

     Brought terror to the soul of Hercules.

     Trumpets like those that summon armies forth

     Were heard re-echoing in the silent night:

     And from the earth arising Sulla's 25 ghost

     Sang gloomy oracles, and by Anio's wave

640  All fled the homesteads, frighted by the shade

     Of Marius waking from his broken tomb.

 

     In such dismay they summon, as of yore,

     The Tuscan sages to the nation's aid.

     Aruns, the eldest, leaving his abode

     In desolate Luca, came, well versed in all

     The lore of omens; knowing what may mean

     The flight of hovering bird, the pulse that beats

     In offered victims, and the levin bolt.

     All monsters first, by most unnatural birth

650  Brought into being, in accursd flames

     He bids consume 26.  Then round the walls of Rome

     Each trembling citizen in turn proceeds.

     The priests, chief guardians of the public faith,

     With holy sprinkling purge the open space

     That borders on the wall; in sacred garb

     Follows the lesser crowd: the Vestals come

     By priestess led with laurel crown bedecked,

     To whom alone is given the right to see

     Minerva's effigy that came from Troy 27.

660  Next come the keepers of the sacred books

     And fate's predictions; who from Almo's brook

     Bring back Cybebe laved; the augur too

     Taught to observe sinister flight of birds;

     And those who serve the banquets to the gods;

     And Titian brethren; and the priest of Mars,

     Proud of the buckler that adorns his neck;

     By him the Flamen, on his noble head

     The cap of office.  While they tread the path

     That winds around the walls, the aged seer

670  Collects the thunderbolts that fell from heaven,

     And lays them deep in earth, with muttered words

     Naming the spot accursed.  Next a steer,

     Picked for his swelling neck and beauteous form,

     He leads to the altar, and with slanting knife

     Spreads on his brow the meal, and pours the wine.

     The victim's struggles prove the gods averse;

     But when the servers press upon his horns

 

     He bends the knee and yields him to the blow.

     No crimson torrent issued at the stroke,

680  But from the wound a dark empoisoned stream

     Ebbed slowly downward.  Aruns at the sight

     Aghast, upon the entrails of the beast

     Essayed to read the anger of the gods.

     Their very colour terrified the seer;

     Spotted they were and pale, with sable streaks

     Of lukewarm gore bespread; the liver damp

     With foul disease, and on the hostile part

     The angry veins defiant; of the lungs

     The fibre hid, and through the vital parts

690  The membrane small; the heart had ceased to throb;

     Blood oozes through the ducts; the caul is split:

     And, fatal omen of impending ill,

     One lobe o'ergrows the other; of the twain

     The one lies flat and sick, the other beats

     And keeps the pulse in rapid strokes astir.

 

     Disaster's near approach thus learned, he cries --

     "Whate'er may be the purpose of the gods,

     'Tis not for me to tell; this offered beast

     Not Jove possesses, but the gods below.

700  We dare not speak our fears, yet fear doth make

     The future worse than fact.  May all the gods

     Prosper the tokens, and the sacrifice

     Be void of truth, and Tages (famous seer)

     Have vainly taught these mysteries."  Such his words

     Involved, mysterious.  Figulus, to whom

     For knowledge of the secret depths of space

     And laws harmonious that guide the stars,

     Memphis could find no peer, then spake at large:

     "Either," he said, "the world and countless orbs

710  Throughout the ages wander at their will;

     Or, if the fates control them, ruin huge

     Hangs o'er this city and o'er all mankind.

     Shall Earth yawn open and engulph the towns?

     Shall scorching heat usurp the temperate air

     And fields refuse their timely fruit?  The streams

     Flow mixed with poison?  In what plague, ye gods,

     In what destruction shall ye wreak your ire?

     Whate'er the truth, the days in which we live

     Shall find a doom for many.  Had the star

720  Of baleful Saturn, frigid in the height,

     Kindled his lurid fires, the sky had poured

     Its torrents forth as in Deucalion's time,

     And whelmed the world in waters.  Or if thou,

     Phoebus, beside the Nemean lion fierce

     Wert driving now thy chariot, flames should seize

     The universe and set the air ablaze.

     These are at peace; but, Mars, why art thou bent

     On kindling thus the Scorpion, his tail

     Portending evil and his claws aflame?

730  Deep sunk is kindly Jupiter, and dull

     Sweet Venus' star, and rapid Mercury

     Stays on his course: Mars only holds the sky.

     Why does Orion's sword too brightly shine?

     Why planets leave their paths and through the void

     Thus journey on obscure?  'Tis war that comes,

     Fierce rabid war: the sword shall bear the rule

     Confounding justice; hateful crime usurp

     The name of virtue; and the havoc spread

     Through many a year.  But why entreat the gods?

740  The end Rome longs for and the final peace

     Comes with a despot.  Draw thou out thy chain

     Of lengthening slaughter, and (for such thy fate)

    Make good thy liberty through civil war."

 

     The frightened people heard, and as they heard

     His words prophetic made them fear the more.

     But worse remained; for as on Pindus' slopes

    Possessed with fury from the Theban god

     Speeds some Bacchante, thus in Roman streets

     Behold a matron run, who, in her trance,

750  Relieves her bosom of the god within.

 

     "Where dost thou snatch me, Paean, to what shore

     Through airy regions borne?  I see the snows

     Of Thracian mountains; and Philippi's plains

     Lie broad beneath.  But why these battle lines,

     No foe to vanquish -- Rome on either hand?

     Again I wander 'neath the rosy hues

     That paint thine eastern skies, where regal Nile

     Meets with his flowing wave the rising tide.

     Known to mine eyes that mutilated trunk

760  That lies upon the sand!  Across the seas

     By changing whirlpools to the burning climes

     Of Libya borne, again I see the hosts

     From Thracia brought by fate's command.  And now

     Thou bear'st me o'er the cloud-compelling Alps

     And Pyrenean summits; next to Rome.

     There in mid-Senate see the closing scene

     Of this foul war in foulest murder done.

     Again the factions rise; through all the world

     Once more I pass; but give me some new land,

770  Some other region, Phoebus, to behold!

     Washed by the Pontic billows!  for these eyes

     Already once have seen Philippi's plains!" 28

 

     The frenzy left her and she speechless fell.