Wars worse then civill on Thessalian playnes,
And outrage strangling law and people strong,
We sing, whose conquering swords their own breasts launcht,
Armies alied, the kingdoms league uprooted,
Th'affrighted worlds force bent on publique spoile,
Trumpets and drums, like deadly threatning other,
Eagles alike displaide, darts answering darts.

Romans, what madnes, what huge lust of warre
Hath made Barbarians drunke with Latin bloud?
Now Babilon (proud through our spoile) should stoop,
While slaughtred Crassus ghost walks unreveng'd,
Will ye wadge war, for which you shall not triumph?

Ay me, O what a world of land and sea,
Might they have won whom civil broiles have slaine,
As far as Titan springs where night dims heaven,
I to the Torrid Zone where midday burnes,
And where stiffe winter whom no spring resolves,
Fetters the Euxin sea, with chaines of yce:
Scythia and wilde Armenia had bin yoakt,
And they of Nilus mouth (if there live any.)

Roome if thou take delight in impious warre,
First conquer all the earth, then turne thy force
Against thy selfe: as yet thou wants not foes.

That now the walles of houses halfe rear'd totter,
That rampiers fallen down, huge heapes of stone
Lye in our townes, that houses are abandon'd,
And few live that behold their ancient seats;
Italy many yeares hath lyen until'd,
And choakt with thorns, that greedy earth wants hinds,
Fierce Pirhus neither thou nor Hanniball
Art cause, no forraine foe could so afflict us,
These plagues arise from wreake of civill power.

But if for Nero (then unborne) the fates
Would find no other meanes, (and gods not sleightly
Purchase immortal thrones; nor Jove joide heaven
Untill the cruel Giants war was done)
We plaine not heavens, but gladly beare these evils
For Neros sake: Pharsalia grone with slaughter;
And Carthage soules be glutted with our blouds;
At Munda let the dreadfull battailes joyne;
Adde, Caesar, to these illes Perusian famine;
The Mutin toyles; the fleet at Leuca suncke;
And cruel field, nere burning Aetna fought:

Yet Room is much bound to these civil armes,
Which made thee Emperor; thee (seeing thou being old
Must shine a star) shal heaven (whom thou lovest,)
Receive with shouts; where thou wilt raigne as King,
Or mount the sunnes flame bearing charriot,
And with bright restles fire compasse the earth,
Undaunted though her former guide be chang'd.
Nature and every power shal give thee place,
What God it please thee be, or where to sway:

But neither chuse the north t'erect thy seat;
Nor yet the adverse reking southerne pole,
Whence thou shouldst view thy Roome with squinting beams.
If any one part of vast heaven thou swayest,
The burdened axes with thy force will bend;
The midst is best; that place is pure, and bright,
There Caesar may'st thou shine and no cloud dim thee;
Then men from war shal bide in league, and ease,
Peace through the world from Janus Phane shal flie,
And boult the brazen gates with barres of Iron.
Thou Caesar at this instant art my God,
Thee if I invocate, I shall not need
To crave Apolloes ayde, or Bacchus helpe;
Thy power inspires the Muze that sings this war.
The causes first I purpose to unfould
Of these garboiles, whence springs a long discourse,
And what made madding people shake off peace.

The fates are envious, high seats quickly perish,
Under great burdens fals are ever greevous;
Roome was so great it could not beare it selfe:
So when this worlds compounded union breakes,
Time ends and to old Chaos all things turne;
Confused stars shal meete, celestiall fire
Fleete on the flouds, the earth shoulder the sea,
Affording it no shoare, and Phoebe's waine
Chace Phoebus and inrag'd affect his place,
And strive to shine by day, and ful of strife
Disolve the engins of the broken world.

All great things crush themselves, such end the gods
Allot the height of honor, men so strong
By land, and sea, no forreine force could ruine:
O Roome thy selfe art cause of all these evils ,
Thy selfe thus shivered out to three mens shares:
Dire league of partners in a kingdome last not.

O faintly joyn'd friends with ambition blind,
Why joine you force to share the world betwixt you?
While th'earth the sea, and ayre the earth sustaines;
While Titan strives against the worlds swift course;
Or Cynthia nights Queene waights upon the day;
Shall never faith be found in fellow kings.
Dominion cannot suffer partnership;
This need no forraine proofe, nor far fet story:
Roomes infant walles were steept in brothers bloud;
Nor then was land, or sea, to breed such hate ,
A towne with one poore church set them at oddes.

Caesars and Pompeys jarring love soone ended,
T'was peace against their wils; betwixt them both
Stept Crassus in: even as the slender Isthmos
Betwixt the Aegean and the Ionian sea,
Keepes each from other, but being worne away
They both burst out, and each incounter other:
So when as Crassus wretched death who stayd them,
Had fild Assirian Carras wals with bloud,
His losse made way for Roman outrages.

Parthians y'afflict us more then ye suppose,
Being conquered, we are plaugde with civil war.
Swords share our Empire, fortune that made Roome
Governe the earth, the sea, the world it selfe,
Would not admit two Lords: for Julia
Snatcht hence by cruel fates with Ominous howles,
Bare downe to hell her sonne, the pledge of peace,
And all bands of that death presaging aliance.

Julia had heaven given thee longer life
Thou hadst restrainde thy headstrong husbands rage,
Yea and thy father to, and swords thrown down,
Made all shake hands as once the Sabines did;
Thy death broake amity and trainde to war,
These Captaines emulous of each others glory.

Thou feard'st (great Pompey) that late deeds would dim
Olde triumphs, and that Caesars conquering France
Would dash the wreath thou wearst for Pirats wracke.
Thee wars use stirde, and thoughts that alwaies scorn'd
A second place; Pompey could bide no equall,
Nor Caesar no superior, which of both
Had justest cause unlawful tis to judge:
Each side had great partakers; Caesars cause ,
The gods abetted; Cato likt the other;
Both differ'd much, Pompey was strooke in yeares,
And by long rest forgot to manage armes,
And being popular sought by liberal gifts,
To gaine the light unstable commons love,
And joyed to heare his Theaters applause;
He liv'd secure boasting his former deeds,
And thought his name sufficient to uphold him,
Like to a tall oake in a fruitfull field,
Bearing old spoiles and conquerors monuments,
Who though his root be weake, and his owne waight
Keepe him within the ground, his armes al bare,
His body (not his boughs) send forth a shade;
Though every blast it nod, and seeme to fal,
When all the woods about stand bolt up-right,
Yet he alone is held in reverence.

Caesars renowne for war was lesse, he restles,
Shaming to strive but where he did subdue,
When yre, or hope provokt, heady, and bould,
At al times charging home, and making havock;
Urging his fortune, trusting in the gods,
Destroying what withstood his proud desires,
And glad when bloud, and ruine made him way:
So thunder which the wind teares from the cloudes,
With cracke of riven ayre and hideous sound,
Filling the world, leapes out and throwes forth fire,
Affrights poore fearefull men, and blasts their eyes
With overthwarting flames, and raging shoots
Alongst the ayre and nought resisting it
Falls, and returnes, and shivers where it lights.
Such humors stirde them up; but this warrs seed,
Was even the same that wrack's all great dominions.

When fortune made us lords of all, wealth flowed,
And then we grew licencious and rude,
The soldiours pray, and rapine brought in ryot,
Men tooke delight in Jewels, houses, plate,
And scorn'd old sparing diet, and ware robes
Too light for women; Poverty (who hatcht
Roomes greatest wittes) was loath'd, and al the world
Ransackt for golde, which breeds the world decay;
And then large limits had their butting lands,
The ground which Curius and Camillus till'd,
Was stretcht unto the fields of hinds unknowne;
Againe, this people could not brooke calme peace,
Them freedome without war might not suffice,
Quarrels were rife, greedy desire stil poore
Did vild deeds, then t'was worth the price of bloud,
And deem'd renowne to spoile their native towne,
Force mastered right, the strongest govern'd all.
Hence came it that th'edicts were overrul'd,
That lawes were broake, Tribunes with Consuls strove,
Sale made of offices, and peoples voices
Bought by themselves and solde, and every yeare
Frauds and corruption in the field of Mars
Hence interest and devouring usury sprang,
Faiths breach, and hence came war to most men welcom.
Now Caesar overpast the snowy Alpes
His mind was troubled, and he aim'd at war,
And comming to the foord of Rubicon
At night in dreadful vision fearefull Roome
Mourning appear'd, whose hoary hayres were torne,
And on her Turret-bearing head disperst,
And armes all naked, who with broken sighes,
And staring, thus bespoke: what mean'st thou Caesar?
Whether goes my standarde? Romans if ye be,
And beare true harts, stay heare: this spectacle
Stroake Caesars hart with feare, his hayre stoode up,
And faintnes numm'd his steps there on the brincke:
He thus cride out: Thou thunderer that guardst
Roomes mighty walles built on Tarpeian rocke,
Ye gods of Phrigia and Iulus line,
Quirinus rites and Latian Jove advanc'd
On Alba hill, o Vestall flames, o Roome
My thoughts sole goddes aide mine enterprise,
I hate thee not, to thee my conquests stoope,
Caesar is thine, so please it thee, thy soldier;
He, he afflicts Roome that made me Roomes foe.
This said, he laying aside all lets of war,
Approcht the swelling streame with drum and ensigne,
Like to a Lyon of scortcht desart Affricke
Who seeing hunters pauseth till fell wrath
And kingly rage increase, then having whiskt
His taile athwart his backe, and crest heav'd up,
With jawes wide open ghastly roaring out;
(Albeit the Moores light Javelin or his speare
Sticks in his side) yet runs upon the hunter.

In summer time the purple Rubicon
Which issues from a small spring, is but shallow,
And creepes along the vales, deviding just
The bounds of Italy from Cisalpin Fraunce;
But now the winters wrath and wat'ry moone,
Being three daies old inforst the floud to swell,
And frozen Alpes thaw'd with resolving winds.

The thunder hov'd horse in a crooked line,
To scape the violence of the streame first waded,
Which being broke the foot had easie passage.

As soone as Caesar got unto the banke
And bounds of Italy; here, here (saith he)

An end of peace; here end polluted lawes;
Hence leagues, and covenants; Fortune thee I follow,
Warre and the destinies shall trie my cause.

This said, the restles generall through the darke
(Swifter then bullets throwne from Spanish slinges,
Or darts which Parthians backward shoot) marcht on
And then (when Lucifer did shine alone,
And some dim stars) he Arriminum enter'd:
Day rose and viewde these tumultes of the war;
Whether the gods, or blustring south were cause
I know not, but the cloudy ayre did frown;
The soldiours having won the market place,
There spred the colours, with confused noise
Of trumpets clange, shril cornets, whistling fifes;
The people started; young men left their beds,
And snatcht armes neer their houshold gods hung up
Such as peace yeelds; wormeaten leatherne targets,
Through which the wood peer'd, headles darts, olde swords
With ugly teeth of blacke rust fouly scarr'd:

But seeing white Eagles, and Roomes flags wel known,
And lofty Caesar in the thickest throng,
They shooke for feare, and cold benumm'd their lims,

And muttering much, thus to themselves complain'd:
O wals unfortunate too neere to France
Predestinate to ruine; all lands else
Have stable peace, here wars rage first begins,
We bide the first brunt, safer might we dwel,
Under the frosty beare, or parching East,
Wagons or tents, then in this frontire towne.
We first sustain'd the uproares of the Gaules
And furious Cymbrians and of Carthage Moores,
As oft as Roome was sackt, here gan the spoile:

Thus sighing whispered they, and none durst speake
And shew their feare, or griefe: but as the fields
When birds are silent thorough winters rage;
Or sea far from the land, so all were whist.

Now light had quite dissolv'd the mysty night,
And Caesars mind unsetled musing stood;
But gods and fortune prickt him to this war,
Infringing all excuse of modest shame,
And laboring to approve his quarrell good.

The angry Senate urging Grachus deeds,
From doubtfull Roome wrongly expel'd the Tribunes
That crost them; both which now approacht the camp,
And with them Curio sometime Tribune too,
One that was feed for Caesar and whose tongue
Could tune the people to the Nobles mind:
Caesar (said he) while eloquence prevail'd,
And I might pleade, and draw the Commons minds
To favour thee, against the Senats will,
Five yeeres I lengthned thy commaund in France
But law being put to silence by the wars,
We from our houses driven, most willingly
Suffered exile: let thy sword bring us home.
Now while their part is weake, and feares, march hence,
,,Where men are ready, lingering ever hurts:
In ten yeares wonst thou France; Roome may be won
With farre lesse toile, and yet the honors more;
Few battailes fought with prosperous successe
May bring her downe, and with her all the world;
Nor shalt thou triumph when thou comst to Roome
Nor capitall be adorn'd with sacred bayes:
Envy denies all, with thy bloud must thou
Abie thy conquest past: the sonne decrees
To expel the father; share the world thou canst not;
Injoy it all thou maiest: thus Curio spake,
And therewith Caesar prone ennough to warre,
Was so incenst as are Eleius steedes
With clamors: who though lockt and chaind in stalls,
Souse downe the wals, and make a passage forth:
Straight summon'd he his severall companies
Unto the standard: his grave looke appeasd
The wrastling tumult, and right hand made silence:
And thus he spake: you that with me have borne
A thousand brunts, and tride me ful ten yeeres,
See how they quit our bloud shed in the North;
Our friends death; and our wounds; our wintering
Under the Alpes; Roome rageth now in armes
As if the Carthage Hannibal were neere;
Cornets of horse are mustered for the field;
Woods turn'd to ships; both land and sea against us:
Had forraine wars ill thriv'd; Or wrathful France
Pursu'd us hither, how were we bestead
When comming conqueror, Roome afflicts me thus?
Let come their leader whom long peace hath quail'd;
Raw soldiours lately prest; and troupes of gownes;
Brabbling Marcellus; Cato whom fooles reverence;
Must Pompeis followers with strangers ayde,
(Whom from his youth he bribde) needs make him king?
And shal he triumph long before his time,
And having once got head still shal he raigne?
What should I talke of mens come reapt by force,
And by him kept of purpose for a dearth?
Who sees not warre sit by the quivering Judge;
And sentence given in rings of naked swords,
And lawes assailde, and arm'd men in the Senate?
Twas his troupe hem'd in Milo being accusde;
And now least age might waine his state, he casts
For civill warre, wherein through use he's known
To exceed his maister, that arch-traitor Sylla

As brood of barbarous Tygars having lapt
The bloud of many a heard, whilst with their dams
They kennel'd in Hircania evermore
Wil rage and pray: so Pompey thou having lickt
Warme goare from Syllas sword art yet athirst,
Jawes flesht with bloud continue murderous.

Speake, when shall this thy long usurpt power end?
What end of mischiefe? Sylla teaching thee,
At last learne wretch to leave thy monarchy;
What, now Scicillian Pirats are supprest,
And jaded king of Pontus poisoned slaine,
Must Pompey as his last foe plume on me,
Because at his commaund I wound not up
My conquering Eagles? say I merit nought,
Yet for long service done, reward these men,
And so they triumph, be't with whom ye wil.
Whether now shal these olde bloudles soules repaire?
What seates for their deserts? what store of ground
For servitors to till? what Colonies
To rest their bones? say Pompey are these worse
Then Pirats of Sycillia? they had houses:
Spread, spread these flags that ten years space have conquer'd,
Lets use our tried force, they that now thwart right
In wars wil yeeld to wrong: the gods are with us,
Neither spoile, nor kingdom seeke we by these armes,
But Roome at thraldoms feet to rid from tyrants.

This spoke none answerd, but a murmuring buz
Th'unstable people made: their houshold gods
And love to Room (thogh slaughter steeld their harts
And minds were prone) restrain'd them; but wars love
And Caesars awe dasht all: then Laelius
The chiefe Centurion crown'd with Oaken leaves,
For saving of a Romaine Citizen,
Stept forth, and cryde: chiefe leader of Rooms force,

So be I may be bold to speake a truth,
We grieve at this thy patience and delay:
What doubtst thou us? even nowe when youthfull bloud
Pricks forth our lively bodies, and strong armes
Can mainly throw the dart; wilt thou indure
These purple groomes? that Senates tyranny?
Is conquest got by civill war so hainous?
Well, leade us then to Syrtes desart shoare;
Or Scythia or hot Libiaes thirsty sands.
This band that all behind us might be quail'd,
Hath with thee past the swelling Ocean;
And swept the foming brest of Artick Rhene.
Love over-rules my will, I must obay thee,
Caesar he whom I heare thy trumpets charge
I hould no Romaine; by these ten blest ensignes
And all thy several triumphs, shouldst thou bid me
Intombe my sword within my brothers bowels;
Or fathers throate; or womens groning wombe;
This hand (albeit unwilling) should performe it;
Or rob the gods; or sacred temples fire;
These troupes should soone pull down the church of Jove
If to incampe on Thuscan Tybers streames,
Ile bouldly quarter out the fields of Rome
What wals thou wilt be leaveld with the ground,
These hands shall thrust the ram, and make them flie,
Albeit the Citty thou wouldst have so ra'st
Be Roome it selfe. Here every band applauded,
And with their hands held up, all joyntly cryde

They'ill follow where he please: the showts rent heaven,
As when against pine bearing Ossa's rocks ,
Beates Thracian Boreas; or when trees bowe down,
And rustling swing up as the wind fets breath.

When Caesar saw his army proane to war ,
And fates so bent, least sloth and long delay
Might crosse him, he withdrew his troupes from France
And in all quarters musters men for Roome

They by Lemannus nooke forsooke their tents;
They whom the Lingones foild with painted speares,
Under the rockes by crooked Vogesus
And many came from shallow Isara
Who running long, fals in a greater floud,
And ere he sees the sea looseth his name;
The yellow Ruthens left their garrisons;
Mild Atax glad it beares not Roman boats;
And frontier Varus that the campe is farre,
Sent aide; so did Alcides port, whose seas
Eate hollow rocks, and where the north-west wind
Nor Zephir rules not, but the north alone,
Turmoiles the coast, and enterance forbids;
And others came from that uncertaine shore,
Which is nor sea, nor land, but oft times both,
And changeth as the Ocean ebbes and flowes:
Whether the sea roul'd alwaies from that point,
Whence the wind blowes stil forced to and fro;
Or that the wandring maine follow the moone;
Or flaming Titan (feeding on the deepe)
Puls them aloft, and makes the surge kisse heaven,
Philosophers looke you, for unto me
Thou cause, what ere thou be whom God assignes
This great effect, art hid. They came that dwell
By Nemes fields, and bankes of Satirus
Where Tarbels winding shoares imbrace the sea,
The Santons that rejoyce in Caesars love,
Those of Bituriges and light Axon pikes;
And they of Rhene and Leuca cunning darters,
And Sequana that well could manage steeds;
The Belgians apt to governe Brittish cars;
Th' Averni too, which bouldly faine themselves
The Romanes brethren, sprung of Ilian race;
The stubborne Nervians staind with Cottas bloud;
And Vangions who like those of Sarmata
Were open slops: and fierce Batavians
Whome trumpets clang incites, and those that dwel
By Cyngas streame, and where swift Rhodanus
Drives Araris to sea; They neere the hils,
Under whose hoary rocks Gebenna hangs;
And Trevier thou being glad that wars are past thee;
And you late shorne Ligurians who were wont
In large spread heire to exceed the rest of France
And where to Hesus and fell Mercury
They offer humane flesh, and where Jove seemes
Bloudy like Dian whom the Scythians serve;
And you French Bardi whose immortal pens
Renowne the valiant soules slaine in your wars,
Sit safe at home and chaunt sweet Poesie
And Druides you now in peace renew
Your barbarous customes, and sinister rites,
In unfeld woods, and sacred groves you dwell,
And only gods and heavenly powers you know,
Or only know you nothing. For you hold
That soules passe not to silent Erebus
Or Plutoes bloodles kingdom, but else where
Resume a body: so (if truth you sing)
Death brings long life. Doubties these northren men
Whom death the greatest of all feares affright not,
Are blest by such sweet error, this makes them
Run on the swords point and desire to die,
And shame to spare life which being lost is wonne.
You likewise that repulst the Caicke foe,
March towards Roome and you fierce men of Rhene
Leaving your countrey open to the spoile.

These being come, their huge power made him bould
To mannage greater deeds; the bordering townes
He garrison'd; and Italy he fild with soldiours.

Vaine fame increast true feare, and did invade
The peoples minds, and laide before their eies
Slaughter to come, and swiftly bringing newes
Of present war, made many lies and tales.
One sweares his troupes of daring horsemen fought
Upon Mevanias plaine, where Buls are graz'd;
Other that Caesars barbarous bands were spread
Along Nar floud that into Tiber fals,
And that his owne ten ensignes, and the rest
Marcht not intirely, and yet hide the ground,
And that he's much chang'd, looking wild and big,
And far more barbarous then the French (his vassals)
And that he lags behind with them of purpose,
Borne twixt the Alpes and Rhene which he hath brought
From out their Northren parts, and that Roome
He looking on by these men should be sackt.
Thus in his fright did each man strengthen Fame,
And without ground, fear'd, what themselves had faind:
Nor were the Commons only strooke to heart
With this vaine terror; but the Court, the Senate;
The fathers selves leapt from their seats; and flying
Left hateful warre decreed to both the Consuls
Then with their feare, and danger al distract,
Their sway of fleight carries the heady rout
That in chain'd troupes breake forth at every port;
You would have thought their houses had bin fierd
Or dropping-ripe, ready to fall with Ruine,
So rusht the inconsiderate multitude
Thorough the Citty hurried headlong on,
As if, the only hope (that did remaine
To their afflictions) were t'abandon Roome

Looke how when stormy Auster from the breach
Of Libian Syrtes roules a monstrous wave,
Which makes the maine saile fal with hideous sound;
The Pilot from the helme leapes in the sea;
And Marriners, albeit the keele be sound,
Shipwracke themselves: even so the Citty left,
All rise in armes; nor could the bed-rid parents
Keep back their sons, or womens teares their husbands;
They stai'd not either to pray or sacrifice,
Their houshould gods restrain them not, none lingered,
As loath to leave Roome whom they held so deere,
Th'irrevocable people flie in troupes.

O gods that easie grant men great estates,
But hardly grace to keepe them: Roome that flowes
With Citizens and Captives, and would hould
The world (were it together) is by cowards
Left as a pray now Caesar doth approach:
When Romans are besieg'd by forraine foes,
With slender trench they escape night stratagems,
And suddaine rampire raisde of turfe snatcht up
Would make them sleepe securely in their tents.
Thou Roome at name of warre runst from thy selfe,
And wilt not trust thy Citty walls one night:
Wel might these feare, when Pompey fear'd and fled.
Now evermore least some one hope might ease
The Commons jangling minds, apparant signes arose,
Strange sights appear'd, the angry threatning gods
Fill'd both the earth and seas with prodegies;
Great store of strange and unknown stars were seene
Wandering about the North, and rings of fire
Flie in the ayre, and dreadfull bearded stars,
And Commets that presage the fal of kingdoms.

The flattering skie gliter'd in often flames,
And sundry fiery meteors blaz'd in heaven;
Now spearlike, long; now like a spreading torch:
Lightning in silence, stole forth without clouds,
And from the northren climat snatching fier
Blasted the Capitoll: The lesser stars
Which wont to run their course through empty night
At noone day mustered; Phoebe having fild
Her meeting hornes to match her brothers light,
Strooke with th'earths suddaine shadow waxed pale,
Titan himselfe throand in the midst of heaven,
His burning chariot plung'd in sable cloudes,
And whelm'd the world in darknesse, making men
Dispaire of day; as did Thiestes towne
(Mycenae), Phoebus flying through the East:
Fierce Mulciber unbarred Aetna's gate,
Which flamed not on high; but headlong pitcht
Her burning head on bending Hespery
Cole-blacke Charibdis whirl'd a sea of bloud;
Fierce Mastives hould; the vestall fires went out,
The flame in Alba consecrate to Jove
Parted in twaine, and with a double point
Rose like the Theban brothers funerall fire;
The earth went off hir hinges; And the Alpes
Shooke the old snow from off their trembling laps.
The Ocean swell'd, as high as Spanish Calpe
Or Atlas head; their saints and houshold gods
Sweate teares to shew the travailes of their citty.
Crownes fell from holy statues, ominous birds
Defil'd the day, and wilde beastes were seene,
Leaving the woods, lodge in the streetes of Rome
Cattell were seene that muttered humane speech:
Prodigious birthes with more and ugly jointes
Then nature gives, whose sight appauls the mother,
And dismall Prophesies were spread abroad:
And they whom fierce Bellonaes fury moves
To wound their armes, sing vengeance, Sibils priests,
Curling their bloudy lockes, howle dreadfull things,
Soules quiet and appeas'd sigh'd from their graves,
Clashing of armes was heard, in untrod woods
Shrill voices schright, and ghoasts incounter men.
Those that inhabited the suburbe fieldes
Fled, fowle Erinnis stalkt about the wals,
Shaking her snakie haire and crooked pine
With flaming toppe, much like that hellish fiend
Which made the sterne Lycurgus wound his thigh,
Or fierce Agave mad; or like Megaera
That scar'd Alcides when by Junoes taske
He had before lookt Pluto in the face.
Trumpets were heard to sound; and with what noise
An armed battaile joines, such and more strange
Blacke night brought forth in secret: Sylla's ghost
Was seene to walke, singing sad Oracles,
And Marius head above cold Tav'ron peering
(His grave broke open) did affright the Boores.
To these ostents (as their old custome was)
They call th'Etrurian Augures, amongst whom
The gravest, Aruns dwelt in forsaken Leuca
Well skild in Pyromancy one that knew
The hearts of beasts, and flight of wandring foules;
First he commands such monsters Nature hatcht
Against her kind (the barren Mules loth'd issue)
To be cut forth and cast in dismall fiers:
Then, that the trembling Citizens should walke
About the City; then the sacred priests
That with divine lustration purg'd the wals,
And went the round, in, and without the towne.
Next, an inferiour troupe, in tuckt up vestures,
After the Gabine manner: then the Nunnes
And their vaild Matron, who alone might view
Minervas statue; then, they that keepe, and read
Sybillas secret works, and wash their saint
In Almo's floud: Next learned Augures follow;
Apolloes southsayers; and Joves feasting priests;
The skipping Salii with shields like wedges;
And Flamins last, with networke wollen vailes.
While these thus in and out had circled Roome
Looke what the lightning blasted, Aruns takes
And it inters with murmurs dolorous,
And cals the place Bidentall on the Altar
He laies a ne're-yoakt Bull, and powers downe wine,
Then crams salt levin on his crooked knife;
The beast long struggled, as being like to prove
An aukward sacrifice, but by the hornes
The quick priest pull'd him on his knees and slew him:
No vaine sprung out but from the yawning gash,
In steed of red bloud wallowed venemous gore.
These direful signes made Aruns stand amaz'd,
And searching farther for the gods displeasure,
The very cullor scard him; a dead blacknesse
Ranne through the bloud, that turn'd it all to gelly,
And stain'd the bowels with darke lothsome spots:
The liver swell'd with filth, and every vaine
Did threaten horror from the host of Caesar
A small thin skinne contain'd the vital parts,
The heart stird not, and from the gaping liver
Squis'd matter; through the cal, the intralls pearde,
And which (aie me) ever pretendeth ill,
At that bunch where the liver is, appear'd
A knob of flesh, whereof one halfe did looke
Dead, and discoulour'd; th'other leane and thinne.
By these he seeing what myschiefes must ensue,
Cride out, O gods! I tremble to unfould
What you intend, great Jove is now displeas'd,
And in the brest of this slaine Bull are crept,
Th'infernall powers. My feare transcends my words,
Yet more will happen then I can unfold;
Turne all to good, be Augury vaine, and Tages
Th'arts master falce. Thus in ambiguous tearmes,
Involving all, did Aruns darkly sing.
But Figulus more seene in heavenly mysteries,
Whose like Aegiptian Memphis never had
For skill in stars, and tune-full planeting,

In this sort spake. The worlds swift course is lawlesse
And casuall; all the starres at randome radge:
Or if Fate rule them, Rome thy Cittizens
Are neere some plague: what mischiefe shall insue?
Shall townes be swallowed? shall the thickned aire,
Become intemperate? shall the earth be barraine?
Shall water be conjeal'd and turn'd to ice?
O Gods what death prepare ye? with what plague
Meane ye to radge? the death of many men
Meetes in one period. If cold noysome Saturne
Were now exalted, and with blew beames shinde,
Then Gaynimede would renew Deucalions flood,
And in the fleeting sea the earth be drencht.
OPhoebus shouldst thou with thy rayes now sing
The fell Nemean beast, th'earth would be fired,
And heaven tormented with thy chafing heate,
But thy fiers hurt not; Mars, 'tis thou enflam'st
The threatning Scorpion with the burning taile
And fier'st his cleyes. Why art thou thus enrag'd?
Kind Jupiter hath low declin'd himselfe;
Venus is faint; swift Hermes retrograde;
Mars onely rules the heaven: why doe the Planets
Alter their course; and vainly dim their vertue?
Sword-girt Orions side glisters too bright.
Wars radge draws neare; and to the swords strong hand,
Let all Lawes yeeld, sinne beare the name of vertue,
Many a yeare these furious broiles let last,
Why should we wish the gods should ever end them?
War onely gives us peace, o Rome continue
The course of mischiefe, and stretch out the date
Of slaughter; onely civill broiles make peace.

These sad presages were enough to scarre
The quivering Romans, but worse things affright them.
As Maenas full of wine on Pindus raves,
So runnes a Matron through th'amazed streetes,
Disclosing Phoebus furie in this sort:
Pean whither am I halde? where shall I fall,
Thus borne aloft? I see Pangeus hill,
With hoarie toppe, and under Hemus mount
Philippi plaines; Phoebus what radge is this?
Why grapples Rome and makes war, having no foes?
Whither turne I now? thou lead'st me toward th'east,
Where Nile augmenteth the Pelusian sea:
This headlesse trunke that lies on Nylus sande
I know: now throughout the aire I flie,
To doubtfull Sirtes and drie Affricke where
A fury leades the Emathian bandes, from thence
To the pine bearing hils, hence to the mounts
Pirene and so backe to Rome againe.
Se impious warre defiles the Senat house,
New factions rise; now through the world againe
I goe; o Phoebus shew me Neptunes shore,
And other Regions, I have seene Philippi
This said, being tir'd with fury she sunke downe.


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