Marcus Annaeus Lucanus
The Civil War

BOOK V The Oracle. The Mutiny. The Storm.

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BOOK V
The Oracle. The Mutiny. The Storm.

 

 

     Thus had the smiles of Fortune and her frowns

     Brought either chief to Macedonian shores

     Still equal to his foe.  From cooler skies

     Sank Atlas' 1 daughters down, and Haemus' slopes

     Were white with winter, and the day drew nigh

     Devoted to the god who leads the months,

     And marking with new names the book of Rome,

     When came the Fathers from their distant posts

     By both the Consuls to Epirus called 2

10   Ere yet the year was dead: a foreign land

     Obscure received the magistrates of Rome,

     And heard their high debate.  No warlike camp

    This; for the Consul's and the Praetor's axe

     Proclaimed the Senate-house; and Magnus sat

     One among many, and the state was all.

 

     When all were silent, from his lofty seat

     Thus Lentulus began, while stern and sad

     The Fathers listened: "If your hearts still beat

     With Latian blood, and if within your breasts

20   Still lives your fathers' vigour, look not now

     On this strange land that holds us, nor enquire

     Your distance from the captured city: yours

     This proud assembly, yours the high command

     In all that comes.  Be this your first decree,

     Whose truth all peoples and all kings confess;

     Be this the Senate.  Let the frozen wain

     Demand your presence, or the torrid zone

     Wherein the day and night with equal tread

     For ever march; still follows in your steps

30   The central power of Imperial Rome.

     When flamed the Capitol with fires of Gaul

     When Veii held Camillus, there with him

     Was Rome, nor ever though it changed its clime

     Your order lost its rights.  In Caesar's hands

     Are sorrowing houses and deserted homes,

     Laws silent for a space, and forums closed

     In public fast.  His Senate-house beholds

     Those Fathers only whom from Rome it drove,

     While Rome was full.  Of that high order all

40   Not here, are exiles. 3  Ignorant of war,

     Its crimes and bloodshed, through long years of peace,

     Ye fled its outburst: now in session all

     Are here assembled.  See ye how the gods

     Weigh down Italia's loss by all the world

     Thrown in the other scale?  Illyria's wave

     Rolls deep upon our foes: in Libyan

     Is fallen their Curio, the weightier part 4

     Of Caesar's senate!  Lift your standards, then,

     Spur on your fates and prove your hopes to heaven.

50   Let Fortune, smiling, give you courage now

     As, when ye fled, your cause.  The Consuls' power

     Fails with the dying year: not so does yours;

     By your commandment for the common weal

     Decree Pompeius leader."  With applause

     They heard his words, and placed their country's fates,

     Nor less their own, within the chieftain's hands.

 

     Then did they shower on people and on kings

     Honours well earned -- Rhodes, Mistress of the Seas,

     Was decked with gifts; Athena, old in fame,

60   Received her praise, and the rude tribes who dwell

     On cold Taygetus; Massilia's sons

     Their own Phocaea's freedom; on the chiefs

     Of Thracian tribes, fit honours were bestowed.

     They order Libya by their high decree

     To serve King Juba's sceptre; and, alas!

     On Ptolemaeus, of a faithless race

     The faithless sovereign, scandal to the gods,

     And shame to Fortune, placed the diadem

     Of Pella.  Boy!  thy sword was only sharp

70   Against thy people.  Ah if that were all!

     The fatal gift gave, too, Pompeius' life;

     Bereft thy sister of her sire's bequest, 5

     Half of the kingdom; Caesar of a crime.

     Then all to arms.

 

                         While soldier thus and chief,

     In doubtful sort, against their hidden fate

     Devised their counsel, Appius 6 alone

     Feared for the chances of the war, and sought

     Through Phoebus' ancient oracle to break

     The silence of the gods and know the end.

 

80   Between the western belt and that which bounds 7

     The furthest east, midway Parnassus rears

     His double summit: to the Bromian god

     And Paean consecrate, to whom conjoined

     The Theban band leads up the Delphic feast

     On each third year.  This mountain, when the sea

     Poured o'er the earth her billows, rose alone,

     By one high peak scarce master of the waves,

     Parting the crest of waters from the stars.

     There, to avenge his mother, from her home

90   Chased by the angered goddess while as yet

     She bore him quick within her, Paean came

     (When Themis ruled the tripods and the spot) 8

     And with unpractised darts the Python slew.

     But when he saw how from the yawning cave

     A godlike knowledge breathed, and all the air

     Was full of voices murmured from the depths,

     He took the shrine and filled the deep recess;

     Henceforth to prophesy.

 

                              Which of the gods

     Has left heaven's light in this dark cave to hide?

100  What spirit that knows the secrets of the world

     And things to come, here condescends to dwell,

     Divine, omnipotent?  bear the touch of man,

     And at his bidding deigns to lift the veil?

     Perchance he sings the fates, perchance his song,

     Once sung, is fate.  Haply some part of Jove

     Sent here to rule the earth with mystic power,

     Balanced upon the void immense of air,

     Sounds through the caves, and in its flight returns

     To that high home of thunder whence it came.

110  Caught in a virgin's breast, this deity

     Strikes on the human spirit: then a voice

     Sounds from her breast, as when the lofty peak

     Of Etna boils, forced by compelling flames,

     Or as Typheus on Campania's shore

     Frets 'neath the pile of huge Inarime. 9

 

     Though free to all that ask, denied to none,

     No human passion lurks within the voice

     That heralds forth the god; no whispered vow,

     No evil prayer prevails; none favour gain:

120  Of things unchangeable the song divine;

     Yet loves the just.  When men have left their homes

     To seek another, it hath turned their steps

     Aright, as with the Tyrians; 10  and raised

     The hearts of nations to confront their foe,

     As prove the waves of Salamis: 11  when earth

     Hath been unfruitful, or polluted air

     Has plagued mankind, this utterance benign

     Hath raised their hopes and pointed to the end.

     No gift from heaven's high gods so great as this

130  Our centuries have lost, since Delphi's shrine

     Has silent stood, and kings forbade the gods 12

     To speak the future, fearing for their fates.

     Nor does the priestess sorrow that the voice

     Is heard no longer; and the silent fane

     To her is happiness; for whatever breast

     Contains the deity, its shattered frame

     Surges with frenzy, and the soul divine

     Shakes the frail breath that with the god receives,

     As prize or punishment, untimely death.

 

140  These tripods Appius seeks, unmoved for years

     These soundless caverned rocks, in quest to learn

     Hesperia's destinies.  At his command

     To loose the sacred gateways and permit

     The prophetess to enter to the god,

     The keeper calls Phemonoe; 13 whose steps

     Round the Castalian fount and in the grove

     Were wandering careless; her he bids to pass

     The portals.  But the priestess feared to tread

     The awful threshold, and with vain deceits

150  Sought to dissuade the chieftain from his zeal

     To learn the future.  "What this hope," she cried,

     "Roman, that moves thy breast to know the fates?

     Long has Parnassus and its silent cleft

     Stifled the god; perhaps the breath divine

     Has left its ancient gorge and thro' the world

     Wanders in devious paths; or else the fane,

     Consumed to ashes by barbarian 14 fire,

     Closed up the deep recess and choked the path

     Of Phoebus; or the ancient Sibyl's books

160  Disclosed enough of fate, and thus the gods

     Decreed to close the oracle; or else

     Since wicked steps are banished from the fane,

     In this our impious age the god finds none

     Whom he may answer."  But the maiden's guile

     Was known, for though she would deny the gods

     Her fears approved them.  On her front she binds

     A twisted fillet, while a shining wreath

     Of Phocian laurels crowns the locks that flow

     Upon her shoulders.  Hesitating yet

170  The priest compelled her, and she passed within.

     But horror filled her of the holiest depths

     From which the mystic oracle proceeds;

     And resting near the doors, in breast unmoved

     She dares invent the god in words confused,

     Which proved no mind possessed with fire divine;

     By such false chant less injuring the chief

     Than faith in Phoebus and the sacred fane.

     No burst of words with tremor in their tones,

     No voice re-echoing through the spacious vault

180  Proclaimed the deity, no bristling locks

     Shook off the laurel chaplet; but the grove

     Unshaken, and the summits of the shrine,

     Gave proof she shunned the god.  The Roman knew

     The tripods yet were idle, and in rage,

     "Wretch," he exclaimed, "to us and to the gods,

     Whose presence thou pretendest, thou shalt pay

     For this thy fraud the punishment; unless

     Thou enter the recess, and speak no more,

     Of this world-war, this tumult of mankind,

190  Thine own inventions."  Then by fear compelled,

     At length the priestess sought the furthest depths,

     And stayed beside the tripods; and there came

     Into her unaccustomed breast the god,

     Breathed from the living rock for centuries

     Untouched; nor ever with a mightier power

     Did Paean's inspiration seize the frame

     Of Delphic priestess; his pervading touch

     Drove out her former mind, expelled the man,

     And made her wholly his.  In maddened trance

200  She whirls throughout the cave, her locks erect

     With horror, and the fillets of the god

     Dashed to the ground; her steps unguided turn

     To this side and to that; the tripods fall

     O'erturned; within her seethes the mighty fire

     Of angry Phoebus; nor with whip alone

     He urged her onwards, but with curb restrained;

     Nor was it given her by the god to speak

     All that she knew; for into one vast mass 15

     All time was gathered, and her panting chest

210  Groaned 'neath the centuries.  In order long

     All things lay bare: the future yet unveiled

     Struggled for light; each fate required a voice;

     The compass of the seas, Creation's birth,

     Creation's death, the number of the sands,

     All these she knew.  Thus on a former day

     The prophetess upon the Cuman shore, 16

     Disdaining that her frenzy should be slave

     To other nations, from the boundless threads

     Chose out with pride of hand the fates of Rome.

220  E'en so Phemonoe, for a time oppressed

     With fates unnumbered, laboured ere she found,

     Beneath such mighty destinies concealed,

     Thine, Appius, who alone had'st sought the god

     In land Castalian; then from foaming lips

     First rushed the madness forth, and murmurs loud

     Uttered with panting breath and blent with groans;

     Till through the spacious vault a voice at length

     Broke from the virgin conquered by the god:

     "From this great struggle thou, O Roman, free

230  Escap'st the threats of war: alive, in peace,

     Thou shalt possess the hollow in the coast

     Of vast Euboea."  Thus she spake, no more.

 

     Ye mystic tripods, guardians of the fates

     And Paean, thou, from whom no day is hid

     By heaven's high rulers, Master of the truth,

     Why fear'st thou to reveal the deaths of kings,

     Rome's murdered princes, and the latest doom

     Of her great Empire tottering to its fall,

     And all the bloodshed of that western land?

240  Were yet the stars in doubt on Magnus' fate

     Not yet decreed, and did the gods yet shrink

     From that, the greatest crime?  Or wert thou dumb

     That Fortune's sword for civil strife might wreak

     Just vengeance, and a Brutus' arm once more

     Strike down the tyrant?

 

                              From the temple doors

     Rushed forth the prophetess in frenzy driven,

     Not all her knowledge uttered; and her eyes,

     Still troubled by the god who reigned within,

     Or filled with wild affright, or fired with rage

250  Gaze on the wide expanse: still works her face

     Convulsive; on her cheeks a crimson blush

     With ghastly pallor blent, though not of fear.

     Her weary heart throbs ever; and as seas

     Boom swollen by northern winds, she finds in sighs,

     All inarticulate, relief.  But while

     She hastes from that dread light in which she saw

     The fates, to common day, lo!  on her path

     The darkness fell.  Then by a Stygian draught

     Of the forgetful river, Phoebus snatched

260  Back from her soul his secrets; and she fell

     Yet hardly living.

 

                         Nor did Appius dread

     Approaching death, but by dark oracles

     Baffled, while yet the Empire of the world

     Hung in the balance, sought his promised realm

     In Chalcis of Euboea.  Yet to escape

     All ills of earth, the crash of war -- what god

     Can give thee such a boon, but death alone?

     Far on the solitary shore a grave

     Awaits thee, where Carystos' marble crags 17

270  Draw in the passage of the sea, and where

     The fane of Rhamnus rises to the gods

     Who hate the proud, and where the ocean strait

     Boils in swift whirlpools, and Euripus draws

     Deceitful in his tides, a bane to ships,

     Chalcidian vessels to bleak Aulis' shore.

 

     But Caesar carried from the conquered west

     His eagles to another world of war;

     When envying his victorious course the gods

     Almost turned back the prosperous tide of fate.

280  Not on the battle-field borne down by arms

     But in his tents, within the rampart lines,

     The hoped-for prize of this unholy war

     Seemed for a moment gone.  That faithful host,

     His comrades trusted in a hundred fields,

     Or that the falchion sheathed had lost its charm;

     Or weary of the mournful bugle call

     Scarce ever silent; or replete with blood,

     Well nigh betrayed their general and sold

     For hope of gain their honour and their cause.

290  No other perilous shock gave surer proof

     How trembled 'neath his feet the dizzy height

     From which great Caesar looked.  A moment since

     His high behest drew nations to the field:

     Now, maimed of all, he sees that swords once drawn

     Are weapons for the soldier, not the chief.

     From the stern ranks no doubtful murmur rose;

     Not silent anger as when one conspires,

     His comrades doubting, feared himself in turn;

     Alone (he thinks) indignant at the wrongs

300  Wrought by the despot.  In so great a host

     Dread found no place.  Where thousands share the guilt

     Crime goes unpunished.  Thus from dauntless throats

     They hurled their menace: "Caesar, give us leave

     To quit thy crimes; thou seek'st by land and sea

     The sword to slay us; let the fields of Gaul

     And far Iberia, and the world proclaim

     How for thy victories our comrades fell.

     What boots it us that by an army's blood

     The Rhine and Rhone and all the northern lands

310  Thou hast subdued?  Thou giv'st us civil war

     For all these battles; such the prize.  When fled

     The Senate trembling, and when Rome was ours

     What homes or temples did we spoil?  Our hands

     Reek with offence!  Aye, but our poverty

     Proclaims our innocence!  What end shall be

     Of arms and armies?  What shall be enough

     If Rome suffice not?  and what lies beyond?

     Behold these silvered locks, these nerveless hands

     And shrunken arms, once stalwart!  In thy wars

320  Gone is the strength of life, gone all its pride!

     Dismiss thine aged soldiers to their deaths.

     How shameless is our prayer!  Not on hard turf

     To stretch our dying limbs; nor seek in vain,

     When parts the soul, a hand to close our eyes;

     Not with the helmet strike the stony clod: 19

     Rather to feel the dear one's last embrace,

     And gain a humble but a separate tomb.

     Let nature end old age.  And dost thou think

     We only know not what degree of crime

330  Will fetch the highest price?  What thou canst dare

     These years have proved, or nothing; law divine

     Nor human ordinance shall hold thine hand.

     Thou wert our leader on the banks of Rhine;

     Henceforth our equal; for the stain of crime

     Makes all men like to like.  Add that we serve

     A thankless chief: as fortune's gift he takes

     The fruits of victory our arms have won.

     We are his fortunes, and his fates are ours

     To fashion as we will.  Boast that the gods

340  Shall do thy bidding!  Nay, thy soldiers' will

     Shall close the war."  With threatening mien and speech

     Thus through the camp the troops demand their chief.

 

     When faith and loyalty are fled, and hope

     For aught but evil, thus may civil war

     In mutiny and discord find its end!

     What general had not feared at such revolt?

     But mighty Caesar trusting on the throw,

     As was his wont, his fortune, and o'erjoyed

     To front their anger raging at its height

350  Unflinching comes.  No temples of the gods,

     Not Jove's high fane on the Tarpeian rock,

     Not Rome's high dames nor maidens had he grudged

     To their most savage lust: that they should ask

     The worst, his wish, and love the spoils of war.

     Nor feared he aught save order at the hands

     Of that unconquered host.  Art thou not shamed

     That strife should please thee only, now condemned

     Even by thy minions?  Shall they shrink from blood,

     They from the sword recoil?  and thou rush on

360  Heedless of guilt, through right and through unright,

     Nor learn that men may lay their arms aside

     Yet bear to live?  This civil butchery

     Escapes thy grasp.  Stay thou thy crimes at length;

     Nor force thy will on those who will no more.

 

     Upon a turfy mound unmoved he stood

     And, since he feared not, worthy to be feared;

     And thus while anger stirred his soul began:

     "Thou that with voice and hand didst rage but now

     Against thine absent chief, behold me here;

370  Here strike thy sword into this naked breast,

     To stay the war; and flee, if such thy wish.

     This mutiny devoid of daring deed

     Betrays your coward souls, betrays the youth

     Who tires of victories which gild the arms

     Of an unconquered chief, and yearns for flight.

     Well, leave me then to battle and to fate!

     I cast you forth; for every weapon left,

     Fortune shall find a man, to wield it well.

     Shall Magnus in his flight with such a fleet

380  Draw nations in his train; and not to me as

     My victories bring hosts, to whom shall fall

     The prize of war accomplished, who shall reap

     Your laurels scorned, and scathless join the train

     That leads my chariot to the sacred hill?

     While you, despised in age and worn in war,

     Gaze on our triumph from the civic crowd.

     Think you your dastard flight shall give me pause?

     If all the rivers that now seek the sea

     Were to withdraw their waters, it would fail

390  By not one inch, no more than by their flow

     It rises now.  Have then your efforts given

     Strength to my cause?  Not so: the heavenly gods

     Stoop not so low; fate has no time to judge

     Your lives and deaths.  The fortunes of the world

     Follow heroic souls: for the fit few

     The many live; and you who terrified

     With me the northern and Iberian worlds,

     Would flee when led by Magnus.  Strong in arms

     For Caesar's cause was Labienus; 20 now

400  That vile deserter, with his chief preferred,

     Wanders o'er land and sea.  Nor were your faith

     One whit more firm to me if, neither side

     Espoused, you ceased from arms.  Who leaves me once,

     Though not to fight against me with the foe,

     Joins not my ranks again.  Surely the gods

     Smile on these arms who for so great a war

     Grant me fresh soldiers.  From what heavy load

     Fortune relieves me!  for the hands which aimed

     At all, to which the world did not suffice,

410  I now disarm, and for myself alone

     Reserve the conflict.  Quit ye, then, my camp,

     `Quirites', 21 Caesar's soldiers now no more,

     And leave my standards to the grasp of men!

     Yet some who led this mad revolt I hold,

     Not as their captain now, but as their judge.

     Lie, traitors, prone on earth, stretch out the neck

     And take th' avenging blow.  And thou whose strength

     Shall now support me, young and yet untaught,

     Behold the doom and learn to strike and die."

 

420  Such were his words of ire, and all the host

     Drew back and trembled at the voice of him

     They would depose, as though their very swords

     Would from their scabbards leap at his command

     Themselves unwilling; but he only feared

     Lest hand and blade to satisfy the doom

     Might be denied, till they submitting pledged

     Their lives and swords alike, beyond his hope.

     To strike and suffer 22 holds in surest thrall

     The heart inured to guilt; and Caesar kept,

430  By dreadful compact ratified in blood,

     Those whom he feared to lose.

 

                                        He bids them march

     Upon Brundusium, and recalls the ships

     From soft Calabria's inlets and the point

     Of Leucas, and the Salapinian marsh,

     Where sheltered Sipus nestles at the feet

     Of rich Garganus, jutting from the shore

     In huge escarpment that divides the waves

     Of Hadria; on each hand, his seaward slopes

     Buffeted by the winds; or Auster borne

440  From sweet Apulia, or the sterner blast

     Of Boreas rushing from Dalmatian strands.

 

     But Caesar entered trembling Rome unarmed,

     Now taught to serve him in the garb of peace.

     Dictator named, to grant their prayers, forsooth:

     Consul, in honour of the roll of Rome.

     Then first of all the names by which we now

     Lie to our masters, men found out the use:

     For to preserve his right to wield the sword

     He mixed the civil axes with his brands;

450  With eagles, fasces; with an empty word

     Clothing his power; and stamped upon the time

     A worthy designation; for what name

     Could better mark the dread Pharsalian year

     Than "Caesar, Consul"?  23 Now the famous field

     Pretends its ancient ceremonies: calls

     The tribes in order and divides the votes

     In vain solemnity of empty urns.

     Nor do they heed the portents of the sky:

     Deaf were the augurs to the thunder roll;

460  The owl flew on the left; yet were the birds

     Propitious sworn.  Then was the ancient name

     Degraded first; and monthly Consuls, 24

     Shorn of their rank, are chosen to mark the years.

     And Trojan Alba's 25 god (since Latium's fall

     Deserving not) beheld the wonted fires

     Blaze from his altars on the festal night.

 

     Then through Apulia's fallows, that her hinds

     Left all untilled, to sluggish weeds a prey

     Passed Caesar onward, swifter than the fire

470  Of heaven, or tigress dam: until he reached

     Brundusium's winding ramparts, built of old

     By Cretan colonists.  There icy winds

     Constrained the billows, and his trembling fleet

     Feared for the winter storms nor dared the main.

     But Caesar's soul burned at the moments lost

     For speedy battle, nor could brook delay

     Within the port, indignant that the sea

     Should give safe passage to his routed foe:

     And thus he stirred his troops, in seas unskilled,

480  With words of courage: "When the winter wind

     Has seized on sky and ocean, firm its hold;

     But the inconstancy of cloudy spring

     Permits no certain breezes to prevail

     Upon the billows.  Straight shall be our course.

     No winding nooks of coast, but open seas

     Struck by the northern wind alone we plough,

     And may he bend the spars, and bear us swift

     To Grecian cities; else Pompeius' oars,

     Smiting the billows from Phaeacian 26 coasts,

490  May catch our flagging sails.  Cast loose the ropes

     From our victorious prows.  Too long we waste

     Tempests that blow to bear us to our goal."

 

     Now sank the sun to rest; the evening star

     Shone on the darkening heaven, and the moon

     Reigned with her paler light, when all the fleet

     Freed from retaining cables seized the main.

     With slackened sheet the canvas wooed the breeze,

     Which rose and fell and fitful died away,

     Till motionless the sails, and all the waves

500  Were still as deepest pool, where never wind

     Ripples the surface.  Thus in Scythian climes

     Cimmerian Bosphorus restrains the deep

     Bound fast in frosty fetters; Ister's streams 27

     No more impel the main, and ships constrained

     Stand fast in ice; and while in depths below

     The waves still murmur, loud the charger's hoof

     Sounds on the surface, and the travelling wheel

     Furrows a track upon the frozen marsh.

     Cruel as tempest was the calm that lay

510  In stagnant pools upon the mournful deep:

     Against the course of nature lay outstretched

     A rigid ocean: 'twas as if the sea

     Forgat its ancient ways and knew no more

     The ceaseless tides, nor any breeze of heaven,

     Nor quivered at the image of the sun,

     Mirrored upon its wave.  For while the fleet

     Hung in mid passage motionless, the foe

     Might hurry to attack, with sturdy stroke

     Churning the deep; or famine's deadly grip

520  Might seize the ships becalmed.  For dangers new

     New vows they find.  "May mighty winds arise

     And rouse the ocean, and this sluggish plain

     Cast off stagnation and be sea once more."

     Thus did they pray, but cloudless shone the sky,

     Unrippled slept the surface of the main;

     Until in misty clouds the moon arose

     And stirred the depths, and moved the fleet along

     Towards the Ceraunian headland; and the waves

     And favouring breezes followed on the ships,

530  Now speeding faster, till (their goal attained)

     They cast their anchors on Palaeste's 28 shore.

 

     This land first saw the chiefs in neighbouring camps

     Confronted, which the streams of Apsus bound

     And swifter Genusus; a lengthy course

     Is run by neither, but on Apsus' waves

     Scarce flowing from a marsh, the frequent boat

     Finds room to swim; while on the foamy bed

     Of Genusus by sun or shower compelled

     The melted snows pour seawards.  Here were met

540  (So Fortune ordered it) the mighty pair;

     And in its woes the world yet vainly hoped

     That brought to nearer touch their crime itself

     Might bleed abhorrence: for from either camp

     Voices were clearly heard and features seen.

     Nor e'er, Pompeius, since that distant day

     When Caesar's daughter and thy spouse was reft

     By pitiless fate away, nor left a pledge,

     Did thy loved kinsman (save on sands of Nile)

     So nearly look upon thy face again.

 

550  But Caesar's mind though frenzied for the fight

     Was forced to pause until Antonius brought

     The rearward troops; Antonius even now

     Rehearsing Leucas' fight.  With prayers and threats

     Caesar exhorts him.  "Why delay the fates,

     Thou cause of evil to the suffering world?

     My speed hath won the major part: from thee

     Fortune demands the final stroke alone.

     Do Libyan whirlpools with deceitful tides

     Uncertain separate us?  Is the deep

560  Untried to which I call?  To unknown risks

     Art thou commanded?  Caesar bids thee come,

     Thou sluggard, not to leave him.  Long ago

     I ran my ships midway through sands and shoals

     To harbours held by foes; and dost thou fear

     My friendly camp?  I mourn the waste of days

     Which fate allotted us.  Upon the waves

     And winds I call unceasing: hold not back

     Thy willing troops, but let them dare the sea;

     Here gladly shall they come to join my camp,

570  Though risking shipwreck.  Not in equal shares

     The world has fallen between us: thou alone

     Dost hold Italia, but Epirus I

     And all the lords of Rome."  Twice called and thrice

     Antonius lingered still: but Caesar thought

     To reap in full the favour of the gods,

     Not sit supine; and knowing danger yields

     To whom heaven favours, he upon the waves

     Feared by Antonius' fleets, in shallow boat

     Embarked, and daring sought the further shore.

 

580  Now gentle night had brought repose from arms;

     And sleep, blest guardian of the poor man's couch,

     Restored the weary; and the camp was still.

     The hour was come that called the second watch

     When mighty Caesar, in the silence vast

     With cautious tread advanced to such a deed 29

     As slaves should dare not.  Fortune for his guide,

     Alone he passes on, and o'er the guard

     Stretched in repose he leaps, in secret wrath

     At such a sleep.  Pacing the winding beach,

590  Fast to a sea-worn rock he finds a boat

     On ocean's marge afloat.  Hard by on shore

     Its master dwelt within his humble home.

     No solid front it reared, for sterile rush

     And marshy reed enwoven formed the walls,

     Propped by a shallop with its bending sides

     Turned upwards.  Caesar's hand upon the door

     Knocks twice and thrice until the fabric shook.

     Amyclas from his couch of soft seaweed

     Arising, calls: "What shipwrecked sailor seeks

600  My humble home?  Who hopes for aid from me,

     By fates adverse compelled?"  He stirs the heap

     Upon the hearth, until a tiny spark

     Glows in the darkness, and throws wide the door.

     Careless of war, he knew that civil strife

     Stoops not to cottages.  Oh!  happy life

     That poverty affords!  great gift of heaven

     Too little understood!  what mansion wall,

     What temple of the gods, would feel no fear

     When Caesar called for entrance?  Then the chief:

610  "Enlarge thine hopes and look for better things.

     Do but my bidding, and on yonder shore

     Place me, and thou shalt cease from one poor boat

     To earn thy living; and in years to come

     Look for a rich old age: and trust thy fates

     To those high gods whose wont it is to bless

     The poor with sudden plenty."  So he spake

     E'en at such time in accents of command,

     For how could Caesar else?  Amyclas said,

     "'Twere dangerous to brave the deep to-night.

620  The sun descended not in ruddy clouds

     Or peaceful rays to rest; part of his beams

     Presaged a southern gale, the rest proclaimed

     A northern tempest; and his middle orb,

     Shorn of its strength, permitted human eyes

     To gaze upon his grandeur; and the moon

     Rose not with silver horns upon the night

     Nor pure in middle space; her slender points

     Not drawn aright, but blushing with the track

     Of raging tempests, till her lurid light

630  Was sadly veiled within the clouds.  Again

     The forest sounds; the surf upon the shore;

     The dolphin's mood, uncertain where to play;

     The sea-mew on the land; the heron used

     To wade among the shallows, borne aloft

     And soaring on his wings -- all these alarm;

     The raven, too, who plunged his head in spray,

     As if to anticipate the coming rain,

     And trod the margin with unsteady gait.

     But if the cause demands, behold me thine.

640  Either we reach the bidden shore, or else

     Storm and the deep forbid -- we can no more."

 

     Thus said he loosed the boat and raised the sail.

     No sooner done than stars were seen to fall

     In flaming furrows from the sky: nay, more;

     The pole star trembled in its place on high:

     Black horror marked the surging of the sea;

     The main was boiling in long tracts of foam,

     Uncertain of the wind, yet seized with storm.

     Then spake the captain of the trembling bark:

650  "See what remorseless ocean has in store!

     Whether from east or west the storm may come

     Is still uncertain, for as yet confused

     The billows tumble.  Judged by clouds and sky

     A western tempest: by the murmuring deep

     A wild south-eastern gale shall sweep the sea.

     Nor bark nor man shall reach Hesperia's shore

     In this wild rage of waters.  To return

     Back on our course forbidden by the gods,

     Is our one refuge, and with labouring boat

660  To reach the shore ere yet the nearest land

     Way be too distant."

 

                              But great Caesar's trust

     Was in himself, to make all dangers yield.

     And thus he answered: "Scorn the threatening sea,

     Spread out thy canvas to the raging wind;

     If for thy pilot thou refusest heaven,

     Me in its stead receive.  Alone in thee

     One cause of terror just -- thou dost not know

     Thy comrade, ne'er deserted by the gods,

     Whom fortune blesses e'en without a prayer.

670  Break through the middle storm and trust in me.

     The burden of this fight fails not on us

     But on the sky and ocean; and our bark

     Shall swim the billows safe in him it bears.

     Nor shall the wind rage long: the boat itself

     Shall calm the waters.  Flee the nearest shore,

     Steer for the ocean with unswerving hand:

     Then in the deep, when to our ship and us

     No other port is given, believe thou hast

     Calabria's harbours.  And dost thou not know

680  The purpose of such havoc?  Fortune seeks

     In all this tumult of the sea and sky

     A boon for Caesar."  Then a hurricane

     Swooped on the boat and tore away the sheet:

     The fluttering sail fell on the fragile mast:

     And groaned the joints.  From all the universe

     Commingled perils rush.  In Atlas' seas

     First Corus 30 lifts his head, and stirs the depths

     To fury, and had forced upon the rocks

     Whole seas and oceans; but the chilly north

690  Drove back the deep that doubted which was lord.

     But Scythian Aquilo prevailed, whose blast

     Tossed up the main and showed as shallow pools

     Each deep abyss; and yet was not the sea

     Heaped on the crags, for Corus' billows met

     The waves of Boreas: such seas had clashed

     Even were the winds withdrawn; Eurus enraged

     Burst from the cave, and Notus black with rain,

     And all the winds from every part of heaven

     Strove for their own; and thus the ocean stayed

700  Within his boundaries.  No petty seas

     Rapt in the storm are whirled.  The Tuscan deep

     Invades th' Aegean; in Ionian gulfs

     Sounds wandering Hadria.  How long the crags

     Which that day fell, the Ocean's blows had braved!

     What lofty peaks did vanquished earth resign!

     And yet on yonder coast such mighty waves

     Took not their rise; from distant regions came

     Those monster billows, driven on their course

     By that great current which surrounds the world. 31

710  Thus did the King of Heaven, when length of years

     Wore out the forces of his thunder, call

     His brother's trident to his help, what time

     The earth and sea one second kingdom formed

     And ocean knew no limit but the sky.

     Now, too, the sea had risen to the stars

     In mighty mass, had not Olympus' chief

     Pressed down its waves with clouds: came not from heaven

     That night, as others; but the murky air

     Was dim with pallor of the realms below; 32

720  The sky lay on the deep; within the clouds

     The waves received the rain: the lightning flash

     Clove through the parted air a path obscured

     By mist and darkness: and the heavenly vaults

     Re-echoed to the tumult, and the frame

     That holds the sky was shaken.  Nature feared

     Chaos returned, as though the elements

     Had burst their bonds, and night had come to mix

     Th' infernal shades with heaven.

 

                                        In such turmoil

     Not to have perished was their only hope.

730  Far as from Leucas point the placid main

     Spreads to the horizon, from the billow's crest

     They viewed the dashing of th' infuriate sea;

     Thence sinking to the middle trough, their mast

     Scarce topped the watery height on either hand,

     Their sails in clouds, their keel upon the ground.

     For all the sea was piled into the waves,

     And drawn from depths between laid bare the sand.

     The master of the boat forgot his art,

     For fear o'ercame; he knew not where to yield

740  Or where to meet the wave: but safety came

     From ocean's self at war: one billow forced

     The vessel under, but a huger wave

     Repelled it upwards, and she rode the storm

     Through every blast triumphant.  Not the shore

     Of humble Sason 33, nor Thessalia's coast

     Indented, not Ambracia's scanty ports

     Dismay the sailors, but the giddy tops

     Of high Ceraunia's cliffs.

 

                                   But Caesar now,

     Thinking the peril worthy of his fates:

750  "Are such the labours of the gods?" exclaimed,

     "Bent on my downfall have they sought me thus,

     Here in this puny skiff in such a sea?

     If to the deep the glory of my fall

     Is due, and not to war, intrepid still

     Whatever death they send shall strike me down.

     Let fate cut short the deeds that I would do

     And hasten on the end: the past is mine.

     The northern nations fell beneath my sword;

     My dreaded name compels the foe to flee.

760  Pompeius yields me place; the people's voice

     Gave at my order what the wars denied.

     And all the titles which denote the powers

     Known to the Roman state my name shall bear.

     Let none know this but thou who hear'st my prayers,

     Fortune, that Caesar summoned to the shades,

     Dictator, Consul, full of honours, died

     Ere his last prize was won.  I ask no pomp

     Of pyre or funeral; let my body lie

     Mangled beneath the waves: I leave a name

770  That men shall dread in ages yet to come

     And all the earth shall honour."  Thus he spake,

     When lo!  a tenth gigantic billow raised

     The feeble keel, and where between the rocks

     A cleft gave safety, placed it on the shore.

     Thus in a moment fortune, kingdoms, lands,

     Once more were Caesar's.

 

                                   But on his return

     When daylight came, he entered not the camp

     Silent as when he parted; for his friends

     Soon pressed around him, and with weeping eyes

780  In accents welcome to his ears began:

     "Whither in reckless daring hast thou gone,

     Unpitying Caesar?  Were these humble lives

     Left here unguarded while thy limbs were given,

     Unsought for, to be scattered by the storm?

     When on thy breath so many nations hang

     For life and safety, and so great a world

     Calls thee its master, to have courted death

     Proves want of heart.  Was none of all thy friends

     Deserving held to join his fate with thine?

790  When thou wast tossed upon the raging deep

     We lay in slumber!  Shame upon such sleep!

     And why thyself didst seek Italia's shores?

     'Twere cruel (such thy thought) to speak the word

     That bade another dare the furious sea.

     All men must bear what chance or fate may bring,

     The sudden peril and the stroke of death;

     But shall the ruler of the world attempt

     The raging ocean?  With incessant prayers

     Why weary heaven?  is it indeed enough

800  To crown the war, that Fortune and the deep

     Have cast thee on our shores?  And would'st thou use

     The grace of favouring deities, to gain

     Not lordship, not the empire of the world,

     But lucky shipwreck!"  Night dispersed, and soon

     The sun beamed on them, and the wearied deep,

     The winds permitting, lulled its waves to rest.

     And when Antonius saw a breeze arise

     Fresh from a cloudless heaven, to break the sea,

     He loosed his ships which, by the pilots' hands

810  And by the wind in equal order held,

     Swept as a marching host across the main.

     But night unfriendly from the seamen snatched

     All governance of sail, parting the ships

    In divers paths asunder.  Like as cranes

     Deserting frozen Strymon for the streams

     Of Nile, when winter falls, in casual lines

     Of wedge-like figures 34 first ascend the sky;

     But when in loftier heaven the southern breeze

     Strikes on their pinions tense, in loose array

820  Dispersed at large, in flight irregular,

     They wing their journey onwards.  Stronger winds

     With day returning blew the navy on,

     Past Lissus' shelter which they vainly sought,

     Till bare to northern blasts, Nymphaeum's port,

     But safe in southern, gave the fleet repose,

     For favouring winds came on.

 

                                   When Magnus knew

     That Caesar's troops were gathered in their strength

     And that the war for quick decision called

     Before his camp, Cornelia he resolved

830  To send to Lesbos' shore, from rage of fight

     Safe and apart: so lifting from his soul

     The weight that burdened it.  Thus, lawful Love.

     Thus art thou tyrant o'er the mightiest mind!

     His spouse was the one cause why Magnus stayed

     Nor met his fortunes, though he staked the world

     And all the destinies of Rome.  The word

     He speaks not though resolved; so sweet it seemed,

     When on the future pondering, to gain

     A pause from Fate!  But at the close of night,

840  When drowsy sleep had fled, Cornelia sought

     To soothe the anxious bosom of her lord

     And win his kisses.  Then amazed she saw

     His cheek was tearful, and with boding soul

     She shrank instinctive from the hidden wound,

     Nor dared to rouse him weeping.  But he spake:

     "Dearer to me than life itself, when life

     Is happy (not at moments such as these);

     The day of sorrow comes, too long delayed,

     Nor long enough!  With Caesar at our gates

850  With all his forces, a secure retreat

     Shall Lesbos give thee.  Try me not with prayers.

     This fatal boon I have denied myself.

     Thou wilt not long be absent from thy lord.

     Disasters hasten, and things highest fall

     With speediest ruin.  'Tis enough for thee

     To hear of Magnus' peril; and thy love 35

     Deceives thee with the thought that thou canst gaze

     Unmoved on civil strife.  It shames my soul

     On the eve of war to slumber at thy side,

860  And rise from thy dear breast when trumpets call

     A woeful world to misery and arms.

     I fear in civil war to feel no loss

     To Magnus.  Meantime safer than a king

     Lie hid, nor let the fortune of thy lord

     Whelm thee with all its weight.  If unkind heaven

     Our armies rout, still let my choicest part

     Survive in thee; if fated is my flight,

     Still leave me that whereto I fain would flee."

 

     Hardly at first her senses grasped the words

870  In their full misery; then her mind amazed

     Could scarce find utterance for the grief that pressed.

     "Nought, Magnus, now is left wherewith to upbraid

     The gods and fates of marriage; 'tis not death

     That parts our love, nor yet the funeral pyre,

     Nor that dread torch which marks the end of all.

     I share the ignoble lot of vulgar lives:

     My spouse rejects me.  Yes, the foe is come!

     Break we our bonds and Julia's sire appease! --

     Is this thy consort, Magnus, this thy faith

880  In her fond loving heart?  Can danger fright

     Her and not thee?  Long since our mutual fates

     Hang by one chain; and dost thou bid me now

     The thunder-bolts of ruin to withstand

     Without thee?  Is it well that I should die

     Even while you pray for fortune?  And suppose

     I flee from evil and with death self-sought

     Follow thy footsteps to the realms below --

     Am I to live till to that distant isle

     Some tardy rumour of thy fall may come?

890  Add that thou fain by use would'st give me strength

     To bear such sorrow and my doom.  Forgive

     Thy wife confessing that she fears the power.

     And if my prayers shall bring the victory,

     The joyful tale shall come to me the last

     In that lone isle of rocks.  When all are glad,

     My heart shall throb with anguish, and the sail

     Which brings the message I shall see with fear,

     Not safe e'en then: for Caesar in his flight

     Might seize me there, abandoned and alone

900  To be his hostage.  If thou place me there,

     The spouse of Magnus, shall not all the world

     Well know the secret Mitylene holds?

     This my last prayer: if all is lost but flight,

     And thou shalt seek the ocean, to my shores

     Turn not thy keel, ill-fated one: for there,

     There will they seek thee."  Thus she spoke distraught,

     Leaped from the couch and rushed upon her fate;

     No stop nor stay: she clung not to his neck

     Nor threw her arms about him; both forego

910  The last caress, the last fond pledge of love,

     And grief rushed in unchecked upon their souls;

     Still gazing as they part no final words

     Could either utter, and the sweet Farewell

     Remained unspoken.  This the saddest day

     Of all their lives: for other woes that came

     More gently struck on hearts inured to grief.

     Borne to the shore with failing limbs she fell

     And grasped the sands, embracing, till at last

     Her maidens placed her senseless in the ship.

 

920  Not in such grief she left her country's shores

    When Caesar's host drew near; for now she leaves,

     Though faithful to her lord, his side in flight

     And flees her spouse.  All that next night she waked;

     Then first what means a widowed couch she knew,

     Its cold, its solitude.  When slumber found

     Her eyelids, and forgetfulness her soul,

     Seeking with outstretched arms the form beloved,

     She grasps but air.  Though tossed by restless love,

     She leaves a place beside her as for him

930  Returning.  Yet she feared Pompeius lost

     To her for ever.  But the gods ordained

     Worse than her fears, and in the hour of woe

     Gave her to look upon his face again.

 

 

 





1  The Pleiades, said to be daughters of Atlas.



2  These were the Consuls for the expiring year, B.C. 49 -- Caius Marcellus and L. Lentulus Crus.



3  That is to say, Caesar's Senate at Rome could boast of those Senators only whom it had, before Pompeius' flight, declared public enemies.  But they were to be regarded as exiles, having lost their rights, rather than the Senators in Epirus, who were in full possession of theirs.



4  Dean Merivale says that probably Caesar's Senate was not less numerous than his rival's.  Duruy says there were senators in Pompeius' camp, out of a total of between 500 and 600.  Mommsen says, "they were veritably emigrants.  This Roman Coblentz presented a pitiful spectacle of the high pretensions and paltry performances of the grandees of Rome." (Vol. iv., p. 397.)  Almost all the Consulars were with Pompeius.



5  By the will of Ptolemy Auletes, Cleopatra had been appointed joint sovereign of Egypt with her young brother.  Lucan means that Caesar would have killed Pompeius if young Ptolemy had not done so.  She lost her hare of the kingdom, and Caesar was clear of the crime.



6  Appius was Proconsul, and in command of Achaia, for the Senate.



7  See Book IV., 82.



8  Themis, the goddess of law, was in possession of the Delphic oracle, previous to Apollo. (Aesch., "Eumenides", line 2.)



9  The modern isle of Ischia, off the Bay of Naples.



10 The Tyrians consulted the oracle in consequence of the earthquakes which vexed their country (Book III., line 225), and were told to found colonies.



11 See Herodotus, Book VII., 140-143.  The reference is to the answer given by the oracle to the Athenians that their wooden walls would keep them safe; which Themistocles interpreted as meaning their fleet.



12 Cicero, on the contrary, suggests that the reason why the oracles ceased was this, that men became less credulous. ("De Div.", ii., 57)  Lecky, "History of European Morals from Augustus to Charlemagne", vol. i., p. 368.



13 This name is one of those given to the Cumaean Sibyl mentioned at line 210.  She was said to have been the daughter of Apollo.



14 Probably by the Gauls under Brennus, B.C. 279.



15 These lines form the Latin motto prefixed to Shelley's poem, "The Demon of the World".



16 Referring to the visit of Aeneas to the Sibyl. (Virgil, "Aeneid", vi., 70, &c.)



17 Appius was seized with fever as soon as he reached the spot; and there he died and was buried, thus fulfilling the oracle.



19 Reading "galeam", with Francken; not "glebam".



20 Labienus left Caesar's ranks after the Rubicon was crossed, and joined his rival.  In his mouth Lucan puts the speech made at the oracle of Hammon in Book IX.  He was slain at Munda, B.C. 45.



21 That is, civilians; no longer soldiers.  This one contemptuous expression is said to have shocked and abashed the army. (Tacitus, "Annals", I., 42.)



22 Reading "tenet", with Hosius and Francken; not "timet", as Haskins.  The prospect of inflicting punishment attracted, while the suffering of it subdued, the mutineers.



23 Caesar was named Dictator while at Massilia.  Entering Rome, he held the office for eleven days only, but was elected Consul for the incoming year, B.C. 48, along with Servilius Isauricus.  (Caesar, "De Bello Civili", iii., 1; Merivale, chapter xvi.)



24 In the time of the Empire, the degraded Consulship, preserved only as a name, was frequently transferred monthly, or even shorter, intervals from one favourite to another.



25 Caesar performed the solemn rites of the great Latin festival on the Alban Mount during his Dictatorship. (Compare Book VII., line 471.)



26 Dyrrhachium was founded by the Corcyreams, with whom the Homeric Phaeacians have been identified.



27 Apparently making the Danube discharge into the Sea of Azov. See Mr. Heitland's Introduction, p. 53.



28 At the foot of the Acroceraunian range.



29 Caesar himself says nothing of this adventure.  But it is mentioned by Dion, Appian and Plutarch ("Caesar", 38).  Dean Merivale thinks the story may have been invented to introduce the apophthegm used by Caesar to the sailor, "Fear nothing: you carry Caesar and his fortunes" (lines 662-665). Mommsen accepts the story, as of an attempt which was only abandoned because no mariner could be induced to undertake it.  Lucan colours it with his wildest and most exaggerated hyperbole.



30 See Book I., 463.



31 The ocean current, which, according to Hecataeus, surrounded the world.  But Herodotus of this theory says, "For my part I know of no river called Ocean, and I think that Homer or one of the earlier poets invented the name and introduced it into his poetry."  (Book II., 23, and Book IV., 36.)  In "Oceanus" Aeschylus seems to have intended to personify the great surrounding stream. ("Prom. Vinc.", lines 291, 308.)



32 Comp. VI., 615.



33 Sason is a small island just off the Ceraunian rocks, the point of which is now called Cape Linguetta, and is nearly opposite to Brindisi.



34 Compare "Paradise Lost", VII., 425.



35 Reading "Teque tuus decepit amor", as preferred by Hosius.

 



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