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But he, when grief with keenest sense revives,
With nature's strongest pangs conflicting strives
Let me not lose this hour of death, he cries,
Which my indulgent destiny supplies;
And thou forgive, forgive me, oh my fon,
If thy dear lips and laft embrace I shun.
Warm from thy wound the purple current flows,
And vital breath yet heaving comes and goes :
Yet my fad eyes behold thee yet alive,
And thou shalt, yet, thy wretched fire furvive.
He said, and fierce, by frantic forrow prest,
Plung'd his fharp sword amidst his aged breaft:
And though life's gushing streams the weapon stain,
Headlong he leaps amidft the greedy main;
While this laft wifh ran ever in his mind,
To die, and leave his darling fon behind;
Eager to part, his foul difdain'd to wait,
And truft uncertain to a fingle fate.

1125

And now Maffilia's vanquish'd force gives way,
And Cæfar's fortune claims the doubtful day.
The Grecian fleet is all difpers'd around,
Some in the bottom of the deep lie drown'd;

1130

Some, captives made, their haughty victors bore, While fome, but those a few, fled timely to the fhore But, oh! what verfe, what numbers, can exprefs 1135 The mournful city, and her fore distress!

Upon the beach lamenting matrons stand,

And wailings echo o'er the lengthning ftrand:

Their

upon the waters wide,

eyes are fix'd And watch the bodies driving with the tide.

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Here

Here a fond wife, with pious error, preft
Some hoftile Roman to her throbbing breaft;
There to a mangled trunk two mothers run,

Each grafps, and each would claim it for her fon;
Each, what her boding heart perfuades, believes, 1145
And for the last fad office fondly strives.

But Brutus, now victorious on the main, To Cæfar vindicates the watery plain;

Firft to his brow he binds the naval crown,

And bids the fpacious deep the mighty master own. 1150

LUCAN'S

LUCAN'S PHARSALIA.

BOOK

IV.

THE ARGUMENT.

Cæfar having joined Fabius, whom he had fent before him to Spain, incamps upon a rifing ground near Ilerda, and not far from the river Sicoris: there, the waters being fwollen by great rains endanger his camp; but the weather turning fair, and the floods abating, Pompey's lieutenants, Afranius and Petreius, who lay over-against him, decamp fuddenly. Cæfar follows, and incamps fo as to cut off their paffage, or any ufe of the river Iberus. As both armies lay now very near to each other, the foldiers on both fides knew, and faluted one another; and forgetting the oppofite intereft and factions they were engaged in, ran out from their feveral camps, and embraced one another with great tenderness. Many of Cæfar's foldiers were invited into the enemy's camp, and feafted by their friends and relations. But Petreius apprehending this familiarity might be of ill confequence to his party, commanded them all (though against the rules of humanity and hofpitality) to be killed. After this, he attempts in vain to march back towards Ilerda, but is prevented, and inclosed by Cæfar; to whom, both himself and Afranius, after their army had fuffered extremely for want of water and other neceffaries, are compelled to furrender, without asking any other conditions than that they might not be compelled to take-on in his army: this Cæfar, with great generofity, grants, and difmiffes them. In the mean while, C. Antonius, who commanded for Cæfar near Salonæ, on the coaft of Dalmatia, be

ing fhut up by Octavius, Pompey's admiral, and deftitute of provifions, had attempted by help of fome veffels, or floating machines of a new invention, to pass through Pompey's fleet: two of them by advantage of the tide found means to escape, but the third, which carried a thousand Opitergians commanded by Vulteius, was intercepted by a boom laid under the water. Those when they found it impoffible to get off, at the perfuafion, and by the example of their leader, ran upon one another's fwords and died. In Africa the poet introduces Curio inquiring after the ftory of Hercules and Antæus, which is recounted to him by one of the natives, and afterwards relates the particulars of his being circumvented, defeated, and killed by Juba.

B

UT Cæfar in Iberian fields afar,

Ev'n to the western ocean spreads the war;
And though no hills of flaughter heap the plain,
No purple deluge leaves a guilty stain,
Vaft is the prize, and great the victor's gain.
For Pompey, with alternative command,
The brave Petreius and Afranius ftand:
The chiefs in friendship's juft conditions join,
And, cordial to the common caufe, combine;
By turns they quit, by turns refume the sway,
The camp to guard, or battle to array;
To these their aid the nimble Vectons yield,
With those who till Afturia's hilly field;
Nor wanted then the Celtiberians bold,

Who draw their long defcent from Celtic Gauls of old. Where rifmg grounds the fruitful champain end,

And unperceiv'd by foft degrees afcend;

An

An ancient race their city chofe to found,
And with Ilerda's walls the fummit crown'd.
The Sicoris, of no ignoble name,

Faft by the mountain pours his gentle stream.
A ftable bridge runs crofs from fide to fide,
Whose spacious arch tranfmits the paffing tide,
And jutting peers the wintery floods abide.
Two neighbouring hills their heads distinguish'd raise;
The first great Pompey's enfigns high difplays;
Proud Cæfar's camp upon the next is feen;
The river interpofing glides between.
Wide spread beyond, an ample plain extends,
Far as the piercing eye its profpect fends :
Upon the fpacious level's utmoft bound,
The Cinga rolls his rapid waves around.
But foon in full Iberus' channel loft,
His blended waters feek Iberia's coaft;
He yields to the fuperior torrent's fame,

35

And with the country takes his nobler name.

Now 'gan the lamp of heaven the plains to gild, When moving legions hide th' embattled field; When front to front oppos'd in just array,

The chieftains each their hoftile powers display:

40

But whether conscious fhame their wrath repreft,
And foft reluctance rofe in every breaft;
Or Virtue did a short-liv'd rule refume,

And gain'd one day for liberty and Rome;
Sufpended rage yet linger'd for a space,
And to the weft declin'd the fun in peace.
Night rofe, and blackening shades involv'd the sky,
When Cæfar, bent war's wily arts to try,
M

45

Through