Let this one place from impious rage be free;
That, if the gods the peace of Rome decree,
If your relenting angers yield to treat,
Pompey and thou, in safety, here may meet.
Then, wherefore doft thou quit thy purpos'd way?
Why, thus, Iberia's nobler wars delay ?-
Mean, and of little confequence we are,
A conqueft much unworthy of thy care.
When Phocis' towers were laid in afhes low,
Hither we fled for refuge from the foe;
Here, for our plain integrity renown'd,
A little town in narrow walls we bound:
No name in arms nor victories we boast,,
But live poor exiles on a foreign coaft..
If thou art bent on violence at last,
To burft our gates, and lay our bulwarks waste,.
Know we are equally resolv'd, whate'er
The victor's fury can inflict, to bear.
Shall death destroy, shall flames the town o'erturn:?
Why-let our people bleed, our buildings burn.
Wilt thou forbid the living ftream to flow?
We'll dig, and search the watery stores below.
Hunger and thirft with patience will we meet,
And, what offended nature naufeates, eat.,
Like brave Saguntum daring to be free,
Whate'er they fuffer'd, we 'll expect from thee.
Babes, ravish'd from the fainting mother's breast,
Shall headlong in the burning pile be cast.
Matrons fhall bare their bofoms to their lords,
And beg deftruction from their pitying fwords;
The brother's hand the brother's heart fhall wound,
And univerfal flaughter rage around.
If civil wars must waste this hapless town,
No hands fhall bring that ruin but our own.
Thus faid the Grecian meffengers. When lo!
A gathering cloud involv'd the Roman's brow;
Much grief, much wrath, his troubled vifage spoke;
Then into thefe difdainful words he broke :
This trufting in our speedy march to Spain,
Thefe hopes, this Grecian confidence is vain;
Whate'er we purpose, leisure will be found
To lay Maffilia level with the ground:
This bears, my valiant friends, a found of joy;
Our useless arms, at length, shall find employ.
Winds lofe their force, that unrefifted fly,
And flames, unfed by fuel, fink and die.
Our courage thus would foften in repose,
But fortune and rebellion yield us foes.
Yet mark! what love their friendly speech expreft!
Unarm'd and fingle, Cæfar is their guest.
Thus, first they dare to ftop me on my way,
Then feek with fawning treafon to betray.
Anon, they pray that civil rage may cease:
But war fhall fcourge them for those hopes of peace;
And make them know the prefent times afford,
At leaft while Cæfar lives, no fafety like the fword.
He faid; and to the city bent his way:
The city, fearless all, before him lay,
With armed hands her battlements were crown'd,
And lufty youth the bulwarks mann'd around.
Near to the walls, a rifing mountain's head Flat with a little level plain is fpread: Upon this height the wary chief defigns His camp to ftrengthen with furrounding lines. Lofty alike, and with a warlike mien, Maffilia's neighbouring citadel is seen ; An humble valley fills the space between. Straight he decrees the middle vale to fill, And run a mole athwart from hill to hill, But firft a lengthening work extends its way, Where open to the land this city lay, And from the camp projecting joins the fea. Low finks the ditch, the turfy breast-works rife, And cut the captive town from all supplies : While, gazing frou, their towers, the Greeks bemoan The meads, the fields, and fountains once their own. Well have they thus acquir'd the noblest name, And confecrated these their walls to fame. Fearlefs of Cæfar and his arms they stood, Nor drove before the headlong rushing flood: And while he fwept whole nations in a day, Maffilia bade th' impatient victor stay, And clogg'd his rapid conqueft with delay.. Fortune a master for the world prepar'd, And these th' approaching slavery retard. Ye times to come record the warrior's praise, Who lengthen'd-out expiring freedom's days.
Now while with toil unweary'd rofe the mound, 585-
The founding ax invades the groves around;
Light earth and fhrubs the middle banks fupply'd,
But firmer beams muft fortify the side;
Left when the towers advance their ponderous heiglit,
The mouldering mass should yield beneath the weight. 590 Not far away for ages past had stood
An old inviolated facred wood;
Whofe gloomy boughs, thick interwoven, made
A chilly chearlefs everlafting fhade:
There, nor the rustic gods, nor fatyrs sport,
Nor fauns and fylvans with the nymphs refort:
But barbarous priests fome dreadful power adore,
And luftrate every tree with human gore.
If myfteries in times of old receiv'd,
And pious ancientry be yet believ'd,
There nor the feather'd fongfter builds her neft,
Nor lonely dens conceal the favage beast:
There no tempeftuous winds prefume to fly,
Even lightnings glance aloof, and shoot obliquely by.
No wanton breezes tofs the dancing leaves,
But fhivering horror in the branches heaves.
Black fprings with pitchy streams divide the ground,
And bubbling tumble with a fullen found.
Old images of forms misshapen ftand,
Rude and unknowing of the artist's hand ;
With hoary filth begrim'd, each ghaftly head
Strikes the astonish'd gazer's foul with dread,
No gods, who long in common fhapes appear'd,
Were e'er with fuch religious awe rever'd:
But zealous crouds in ignorance adore,
And ftill the lefs they know, they fear the more.
Oft (as Fame tells) the earth in founds of woe
Is heard to groan from hollow depths below;
The baleful yew, though dead, has oft been feen
To rife from earth, and fpring with dusky green;
With sparkling flames the trees unburning fhine,
And round their boles prodigious ferpents twine.
The pious worshipers approach not near,
But fhun their gods, and kneel with diftant fear :
The priest himself, when, or the day, or night,
Rolling have reach'd their full meridian height,
Refrains the gloomy paths with wary feet,
Dreading the Dæmon of the grove to meet;
Who, terrible to fight, at that fix'd hour,
Still treads the round about his dreary bower.
This wood near neighbouring to th' encompass'd town
Untouch'd by former wars remain'd alone;
And fince the country round it naked stands,
From hence the Latian chief supplies demands.
But lo! the bolder hands, that should have struck, 635
With fome unufual horror trembling fhook :
With filent dread and reverence they survey'd
The gloom majestic of the facred shade:
None dares with impious steel the bark to rend,
Left on himself the deftin'd ftroke defcend.
Cæfar perceiv'd the spreading fear to grow,
Then, eager, caught an ax, and aim'd a blow.
Deep funk within a violated oak
The wounding edge, and thus the warrior spoke.
Now, let no doubting hand the task decline;
Cut the wood, and let the guilt be mine.
The trembling bands unwillingly obey'd;
Two various ills were in the balance laid,
And Cæfar's wrath against the gods was weigh'd.
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