Stripp'd of his titles, and the
Cæfar's a fingle foldier and no more.
Think then how easily the task were done,
How foon we may, an injur'd world atone;
Finish all wars, appeafe each Roman shade,
By facrificing one devoted head.
Fearless, ye dread united legions, go;
Rush, all undaunted, on your common foe:
This right, ye Romans! to your country do;
Ye Pharians! this your king expects from you.
But chief, Achillas! may the praise be thine;
Hafte thou, and find him on his bed supine,
Weary with toiling luft, and gorg'd with wine.
Then strike, and what their Cato's prayers demand,
The gods fhall give to thy more favour'd hand.
Nor fail'd the meflage, fitted to perfuade;
But, prone to blood, the willing chief obey'd.
No noify trumpets found the loud alarm,
But filently the moving legions arm :
All unperceiv'd, for battle they prepare,
And buftle through the night with bufy care.
The mingled bands who form'd this mongrel hoft,
To the difgrace of Rome, were Romans moft;
A herd, who had they not been lost to shame,
And long forgetful of their country's name,
Had blush'd to own ev'n Ptolemy their head;
Yet now were by his meaner vaffal led.
Oh! mercenary war, thou flave of gold!
How is thy faithlefs courage bought and fold!
For bafe reward thy hireling hands obey;
Unknowing right or wrong, they fight for pay,
And give their country's great revenge away.
Ah, wretched Rome! for whom thy fate prepares,
In every nation, new domeftic wars;
The fury, that from pale Theffalia fled,
Rears on the banks of Nile her baleful head.
What could protecting Ægypt more have done,
Had the receiv'd the haughty victor's fon?
But thus the gods our finking state confound,
Thus tear our mangled empire all around;
In every land fit inftruments employ,
And fuffer ruthlefs flaughter to destroy.
Thus ev'n Ægyptian parricides prefume
To meddle in the facred cause of Rome;
Thus, had not Fate thofe hands of murder ty'd, 620
Succefs had crown'd the vile Achillas' fide.
Nor wanted fit occafion for the deed;
Timely the traitors to the place fucceed,
While in fecurity the careless guest,
Lingering as yet, his couch fupinely preft:
No gates, no guards, forbad their open way,
But all diffolv'd in fleep and furfeits lay;
With ease the victor at the board had bled,
And loft in riot his defenceless head;
But pious caution now their rage withstands,
And care for Ptolemy withholds their hands:
With reverence and remorfe, unknown before,
They dread to fpill their royal mafter's gore;
Left, in the tumult of the murderous night,
Some erring mifchief on his youth may light.
Sway'd by this thought, not doubting to fucceed,
They hold it fitting to defer the deed.
Gods! that fuch wretches fhould so proudly dare!
Can fuch a life be theirs to take, or spare?
Till dawn of day the warrior stood repriev'd,
And Cæfar at Achillas' bidding liv'd.
Now o'er afpiring Cafium's eastern head
The rofy light by Lucifer was led;
Swift through the land the piercing beams were borne,
And glowing Egypt felt the kindling morn:
When from proud Alexandria's walls, afar,
The citizens behold the coming war.
The dreadful legions fhine in just array,
And firm, as to the battle, hold their way.
Conscious, mean while, of his unequal force,
Straight to the palace Cæfar bends his course:
Nor in the lofty bulwarks dares confide,
Their ample circuit ftretching far too wide:
To one fix'd part his little band retreats,
There mans the walls and towers, and bars the gates.
There fear, there wrath, by turns, his bofom tears;
He fears, but ftill with indignation fears.
His daring foul, restrain'd, more fiercely burns,
And proudly the ignoble refuge fcorns.
The captive lion thus, with generous rage,
Reluctant foams, and roars, and bites his cage.
Thus, if fome power could Mulciber inflave,
And bind him down in Ætna's fmoky cave,
With fires more fierce th' imprifon'd god would glow, And bellow in the dreadful deeps below.
He who fo lately, with undaunted pride,
The power of mighty Pompey's arms defy'd,
With justice and the senate on his fide;
Who, with a cause which gods and men niuft hate,
Stood up, and struggled for fuccefs with fate;
Now abject foes and flaves infulting fears,
And fhrinks beneath a fhower of Pharian fpears.
The warrior who difdain'd to be confin'd
By Tyrian Gades, or the eastern Inde,
Now in a narrow houfe conceals that head,
From which the fierceft Scythians once had fled,
And horrid Moors beheld with awful dread.
From room to room irrefolute he flies,
And on fome guardian bar or door relies.
So boys and helpless maids, when towns are won, 680
To fecret corners for protection run.
Still by his fide the beardlefs king he bears,
Ordain'd to share in every ill he fears:
If he must die, he dooms the boy to go,
Alike devoted to the fhades below;
Refolves his head a victim first shall fall,
Hurl'd at his flaves from off the lofty wall.
So from êtes fierce Medea fled,
Her fword ftill aim'd at young Abfyrtos" head;
Whene'er fhe fees her vengeful fire draw nigh,
Ruthlefs fhe dooms the wretched boy fhould die.
Yet ere thefe cruel laft extremes he proves,
By gentler fteps of peace the Roman moves :
He fends an envoy, in the royal name,
To chide their fury, and the war disclaim.
Gg 4
But impious they nor gods nor kings regard,
Nor univerfal laws, by all rever'd;
No right of facred characters they know,
But tear the olive from the hallow'd brow;
To death the meffenger of peace purfue,
And in his blood their horrid hands embrue.
Such are the palms which curs'd Ægyptians claim,
Such prodigies exalt their nation's name.
Nor purple Theffaly's deftructive shore,
Nor dire Pharnaces, nor the Libyan Moor,
Nor every barbarous land, in every age,
Equal a foft Ægyptian eunuch's rage.
Inceffant ftill the roar of war prevails,
While the wild host the royal pile affails.
Void of device, no thundering rams they bring,
Nor kindling flames with fpreading mischief fling:
Bellowing around they run with fruitless pain,
Heave at the doors, and thrust and strive in vain :
More than a wall, great Cæfar's fortune stands,
And mocks the madness of their feeble hands.
On one proud fide the lofty fabric food
Projected bold into th' adjoining flood;
There, fill'd with armed bands, their barks draw near,
But find the same defending Cæfar there :
To every part the ready warrior flies,
And with new rage the fainting fight supplies ;
Headlong he drives them with his deadly blade,
Nor feems to be invaded, but t' invade.
Against the ships Phalaric darts he aims;
Each dart with pitch and livid fulphur flames.
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