With views, till then, to mortal eyes deny'd.
Here let me, thy companion, stray
From orb to orb, and now behold
Unnumber'd suns, all seas of molten gold;
And trace each Comet's wandering way,
And now descry light's fountain-head,,
And measure its descending speed;
Or learn how sun-born colours rise
In rays distinct, and in the skies,
Blended in yellow radiance, flow,

Or stain the fleecy cloud, or streak the watery bow;
Or, now diffus'd, their beauteous tinctures shed
On every planet's rising hills, and every verdant

mead.

Thus, rais'd sublime on Contemplation's wings,
Fresh wonders I would still explore,
Still the great Maker's power adore,
Lost in the thought-nor ever more
Return to Earth, and earthly things;

But here, with native freedom, take my flight,
An inmate of the Heavens, adopted into light!
So for a while the royal Eagle's brood
In his low nest securely lies,
Amid the darkness of the sheltering wood,
Yet there, with in-born vigour, hopes the skies:
Till, fledg'd with wings full-grown, and bold to
The bird of Heaven to Heaven aspires, [rise,
Soars 'midst the meteors and celestial fires,
With generous pride his humbler birth disdains,
And bears the thunder thro' the ethereal plains.

THE TENTH BOOK OF

LUCAN'S PHARSALIA.

TRANSLATED.

THE ARGUMENT AND CONNECTION OF THE STORY WITH THE FOREGOING BOOKS.

Pompey, flying to Egypt, after his defeat at Pharsalia, was by the king's consent, basely murdered by Pothinus, and his head presented to Cæsar as he approached the Egyptian coast, in pursuit of his enemy. The poet having represented this catastrophe in the two former books; the argument of the tenth book is as follows:

The

Cæsar lands in Egypt. He goes to Alexandria; visits the temple, and the sepulchre of the kings, in which Alexander the Great was buried. poet, in a beautiful digression, declaims against the ambition of that monarch. Ptolemy, the young king of Egypt, meets Cæsar at his ar-. rival, and receives him into his palace. His sister Cleopatra, who had been kept a prisoner in Pharos, makes her escape, and privately getting admittance to Cæsar, implores his protection. By his means she is reconciled to her brother; after which she entertains Cæsar at a feast. The supper being ended, Cæsar requests of Achoreus, the priest, an account of the antiquities of Egypt, particularly of the river Nile. Achoreus's reply. The course of that river described, with an enumeration of the various opinions concerning its spring, and the causes of its overflowing. Pothinus plots the death of Cæsar. His message to Achillas to invite him

to join in this attempt. Achillas marches against Alexandria with an army composed of Egyptians and Romans, and besieges Cæsar in the palace, who seizes Ptolemy as a pledge for his own security. A herald, sent from the king to inquire the cause of this tumult, is slain. An attack being made, Cæsar defends himself, burns the Egyptian ships in the harbour, and possesses himself of Pharos, where he puts Pothinus to death. Arsinoe, younger sister of Ptolemy, by the aid of Ganimede, her governor, arriving in the camp, causes Achillas to be slain. Ganimede renews the attack against Cæsar, who is blocked up in Pharos, and reduced to the greatest extremity.

WHEN Conquering Cæsar follow'd to the land

His rival's head, and trod the barbarous strand,
His fortune strove with guilty Egypt's fate
In doubtful fight, and this the dire debate;
Shall Roman arms great Lagus' realm enthrall?
Or shall the victor, like the vanquish'd, fall
By Egypt's sword? Pompey, thy ghost withstood
Th' impending blow, and sav'd the general's blood,
Lest Rome, too happy after loss of thee,
Should rule the Nile, herself from bondage free.

Secure, and with this barbarous pledge content,
To Alexandria now the conqueror went.
The crowd that saw his entry, while, before,
Advancing guards the rods of empire bore,
In murmur'd sounds their jealous rage disclos'd,
At Roman rites and foreign law impos'd.
Observing Cæsar soon his errour spy'd,
That not for him his mighty rival dy'd,

Yet smooth'd his brow, all marks of fear suppress'd, And hid his cares, deep bury'd in his breast.

Then with intrepid mien he took his way, The city walls and temples to survey, Works which thy ancient power, great Macedon

display.

He view'd the splendid fanes with careless eyes,
Shrines rich with gold and sacred mysteries,
Nor fix'd his sight, but, eager in his pace,
Descends the vault, which holds the royal race.
Philip's mad son, the prosperous robber, bound
In Fate's eternal chains, here sleeps profound,
Whom Death forbade his rapines to pursue,
And in the world's revenge the monster slew.
His impious bones, which, through each climate tost,
The sport of winds, or in the ocean lost,
Had met a juster fate, this tomb obtain'd,
And sacred, to that kingdom's end, remain'd.
O! should auspicious years roll round again,
And godlike Liberty resume her reign,
Preserv'd to scorn the reliques would be shown
Of the bold chief, whose boundless pride alone
This curst example to ambition gave,
How many realms one mortal can enslave!

Disdaining what his father won before,
Aspiring still, and restless after more,
He left his home; while Fortune smooth'd his way,
And o'er the fruitful East enlarg'd his sway.
Red Slaughter mark'd his progress, as he past;
The guilty sword laid human nature waste,
Discolour'd Ganges' and Euphrates' flood,
With Persian this, and that with Indian blood.

He seem'd in terrour to the nations sent,
The wrath of Heaven, a star of dire portent,
And shook, like thunder, all the continent!

Nor yet content, a navy he provides.
To scas remote his triumphs now he guides,
Nor winds nor waves his progress could withstand;
Nor Libya's scorching heat, and desert land,
Nor rolling mountains of collected sand.
Had Heaven but giv'n him line, he had outrun
The farthest journey of the setting Sun,
March'd round the poles, and drank discover'd Nile
At his spring-head-But winged Fate the while
Comes on with speed, the funeral hour draws near:
Death only could arrest his mad career,
Who to his grave the world's sole empire bore,
With the same envy 'twas acquir'd before ;'
And, wanting a successor to his reign,
Left all to suffer conquest once again.

Yet Babylon first yielded to his arms, And Parthia trembled at his proud alarmns. Oh shame to tell! could haughty Parthia fear The Grecian dart, and not the Roman spear? What though the North, and South, and West,

are ours,

Th' unconquer'd East defies our feeble powers,
So fatal once to Rome's great Crassi known,
A province now to Pella's puny town.

Now from Pelusium, where expanding wide
Nile pours into the sea his ample tide,
Came the boy-king; his presence soon appeas'd
The people's rage, and giddy tumult ceas'd.
In Egypt's palace, Cæsar sleeps secure ;
This princely hostage does awhile ensure
His terms of peace; when lo! the sister-queen,
In a small boat conceal'd, securely mean,
With gold corrupts the keeper of the port,
And undiscover'd lands, and lurks within the

court.

The royal whore, her country's worst disgrace,
The fate and fury of the Roman race!
As Helen's soft incendiary charms
Provok'd the Grecian and the Trojan arms,
No less did Cleopatra's eyes inspire
Italian games, and spread the kindled fire.
A rabble rout, a vile enervate band
Presum'd th' imperial eagles to withstand;
Canopus march'd, a woman at their head,
And then, if ever, Rome knew aught of dread,
Een mighty Rome with terrour heard the jar
Of clatter'd cymbals tinkling to the war,

And shook her lofty towers, and trembled from afar.

What triumphs had proud Alexandria seen,
Had great Octavius then a captive been,
When hovering Victory, at Leucate's bay,
Hung on her wings, and 'twas a strife that day,
If the lost world a distaff should obey.
From that curst night this daring bone arose,
That shameful night, the source of future woes,
Which first commenc'd polluted loves between
A Roman general and Egyptian queen.
O who can Anthony's wild passion blame?
Ev'n Cæsar's flinty heart confess'd the softening
flame!

The foul adulterer, reeking with the stains
Of impious slaughter on Thessalian plains,
Unwash'd from blood, amidst the rage of war,
In joys obscene forgets his cruel care.

Though Pompey's ghost yet haunt those barbarous walls,

And, howling in his ears, for vengeance calls,
Secure in guilt, he hugs a harlot's charms,
And mingles lawless love with lawless arms,
Nor mindful of his chaster progeny,
A bastard-brother, Julia, gives to thee.
His rallying foes on Libyan plains rejoin;
Luxurious Cæsar, shamefully supine,
Foregoes his gains, and for a kiss or smile
Sells the dear purchase of his martial toil.

Him Cleopatra sought t' espouse her care;
Presuming of her charms, the mournful fair
In wild disorder loos'd her lovely hair,
And, with a face inviting sure relief,
In tender accents thus disclos'd her grief:

"Great Cæsar, look! of Lagus' royal race
So thou restore me to my rightful place,
I kneel a queen. Expell'd my father's throne,
My hope of succour is in you alone.
You rise a prosperous star to Egypt's aid;
O shine propitious on an injur'd maid!
My sex has oft the Pharian sceptre sway'd,
For so the laws admit. Let Cæsar read
Our parent's will; my brother's crown and bed
Are mine to share, and were the youth but free
From saucy tutors, he would marry me.
But by Pothinus' nod his passions move,
Pothinus wields his sword, and manages his love
Forbid that crime; I freely quit my claim,
But save from such reproach our house and name
Rescue the royal boy from mean command,
Restore the sceptre to his trembling hand,
This vile, domestic's lawless pride restrain,
Remove the traitor-guard, and teach the king to
reign.

Th' imperious slave, who kill'd great Caesar's foe, Inur'd to blood, would murder Cæsar too,

But far, far hence, ye gods, avert the threaten'd blow!

Let Pompey's head suffice Pothinus' fame,
Nor let a nobler death increase our shame!"

Here paus'd the queen, and spoke in looks the

rest:

Not words alone could move his savage breast; Her eyes enforce her prayers, soft beauty pleads, And brib'd the judge; a night of guilt succeeds. Then soon for peace th' affrighted brother sought, And with rich gifts his reconcilement bought.

Affairs united thus, the court ordains A solemn feast, where joy tumultuous reigns. Here Cleopatra's genius first was shown, And arts till then to frugal Rome unknown. The hall a temple seem'd; corrupter days Scarce to the gods would such a structure raise Rich was the fretted roof, and cover'd o'er With ponderous gold; all onyx was the floor. Nor marble plates alone the walls incas'd, Beauteous to sight, and all th' apartment grac'd; But solid pillars of thick agate stood, And ebony supply'd for common wood. Ivory the doors, with Indian tortoise seen Inlaid, and studded emerald between. The beds too shone, profuse of gems, on high, The coverings Tyrian silk, of double dye, Embroider'd part with gold, with scarlet part, A curious mixture of Egyptian art,

And now the crowd of menial slaves appears,
Of various skin and size, and various years.
Some swarthy Africans with frizzled hair;

Black Ethiops these: and those, like Germans, fair,
With yellow locks, which, Cæsar owns, outshine
In colour ev'n the natives of the Rhine;
Beside th' unhappy youth by steel unmann'd,
And soften'd from their sex, a beardless band;
An abler train was rang'd in adverse rows,

Yet scarce their cheeks did the first down disclose.

The princes took their seats; amid the rest
Sat lordly Cæsar, their superior guest.
Proud Cleopatra, not content alone

T' enjoy a brother spouse, and share his throne,
Had stain'd her checks, and arm'd with artful care
Her fatal eyes, new conquest to prepare;

Bright jewels grac'd her neck, and sparkled in her hair.

O'ercharg'd with spoils which the Red-Sea supply'd, Scarce can she move beneath the ponderous pride. Sidonian silk her snowy breasts array'd,

Which through the net-work veil a thousand charms display'd.

Here might be seen large oval tables, wrought
Of citron from Atlantic forests brought,
Their tressels ivory; not so rich a sort
Was Cæsar's prize in vanquish'd Juba's court.
Blind ostentatious madness! to display
Your wealth to whom ev'n civil war's a play,
And tempt an armed guest to seize the prey!
Grant riches not the purpose of his toil,
Nor with rapacious arms to hunt for spoil,
Think him a hero of that chaster time,
When poverty was praise, and gold a crime;
Suppose Fabricius present at the show,
Or the rough consul chosen from the plough,
Or virtuous Curius; each would wish to come
With such a triumph back to wondering Rome.

What earth and air, the sea and Nile afford,
In golden vessels heaps the plenteous board ;
Whate'er ambitious Luxury could find
Through the search'd globe, and more than want
enjoin'd;

Herds of Egyptian gods, and fowl of various kind.
In crystal ewers Nilus supplies around
His purest streams; vast glittering bowls abound
With wine from Meroe's isle, whose noble age,
Fermenting, sparkles with ungovern'd rage:
With twisted wreaths, which fragrant flowers com-
Delightful nard, and ever-blooming rose, [pose,
They crown their brows; and strow their oily hair
With spice from neighbouring fields, not yet expir'd

in air.

Here Cæsar learns the fruitful world to drain,
While conscious thoughts his secret soul arraign;
Blushing he inward mourns the dire debate
With his poor son, but mourns, alas! too late,
And longs for war with Egypt's wealthy state.

At length, the tumult of the banquet o'er,
When sated Luxury requir'd no more,
Cæsar protracts the silent hours of night,
And, turning to Achoreus, cloth'd in white,
High on a lofty couch-" Say, holy seer!
Whose hoary age thy guardian gods revere,
Devoted to their rites! wilt thou relate
The rise and progress of the Pharian state?
Describe the land's extent, what humours sway

The people's minds, and to what powers you pray
What customs keep, and what devotion pay.
Whate'er your ancient monuments contain,
Produce to light, and willing gods explain.
If Plato once obtain'd a like request,

To whom your sires their mystic rites confest,
This let me boast, perhaps you have not here
A meaner guest, or less judicious ear.
Fame of my rival led me first, 'tis true,
To Egypt's coast, yet join'd with fame of you.
I still had vacant hours amidst my wars,
To read the Heavens, and to review the stars;
Henceforth all calendars must yield to mine,
And ev'n Eudoxus shall the palm resign.
But, more than all, the love of truth, which fires
My glowing breast, an ardent wish inspires
To learn, what numerous ages ne'er could know,
Your river's source, and causes of its flow.
Indulge my hope Nile's secret birth to view,
No more in arms I'll civil strife pursue.”

He paus'd; when thus Achoreus made reply ;
"Ye reverend shades of our great ancestry!
While I to Cæsar Nature's works explain,
And open stores yet hid from eyes profane,
Be it no crime your secrets to reveal!
Let others hold it pious to conceal
Such mighty truths. I think the gods design'd
Works such as these to pass all human kind,
And teach the wondering world their laws and
heavenly mind.

"At Nature's birth, a various power was given To various stars, that cross the poles of Heaven, And slack the rolling sphere. With sovereign rays The Sun divides the months, the nights, the days; Fix'd in his orb, the wandering course restrains Of other stars, and the great dance ordains. The changeful Moon attends th' alternate tides, Saturn o'er ice and snowy zones presides; Mars rules the winds, and the wing'd thunder Jove's is a sky serene and temperate air; [guides; The seeds of life are Venus' kindly care. O'er spreading streams, Cyllenius, is thy reign: And when that part of Heaven thou dost attain, When Cancer with the Lion mingles rays, And Sirius all his fiery rage displays, Beneath whose hot survey, deep in his bed, Obscure from sight, old Nilus veils his head; When thou, from thence, in thy celestial course, Ruler of floods, dost strike the river's source, The conscious streams break out, and flowing soon Obey thy call, as Ocean does the Moon; Nor check their tide, till night has from the Sun Regain'd those hours th' advancing Suminer won.

"Vain was the faith of old, that melted snow From Ethiopian hills produce this flow; For let the native's sun-burnt skins declare, That no bleak North breathes wintry tempests there,

But vapours from the South possess the parching
Besides, such torrents as by snows increase, [air.
Begin to swell when Spring does first release
Those wintery stores; Nile ne'er provokes his
streams,

Till the hot Dog-star shoot his angry beams;
Nor then resumes his banks, till Libra weighs
In equal scale the measur'd nights and days.
Hence he the laws of other streams declines,
Nor flows in winter, when at distance shines

The moderate Sun'; commanded to repair,
In summer's heat, to cool th' intemperate air.
When scorch'd Siene feels her Cancer's fire,
Then lest the world, consum'd in flame, expire,
Nile to its aid his watery forces draws,
And swells against the Lion's burning jaws,
Moistening the plains, till Phœbus late descends
To Autumn's cooler couch, and Meroe's shade ex-
tends.

Who can the cause of such great changes read?
Ev'n so our parent Nature had decreed
Nile's constant course, and so the world has need.

[fly

As vainly too Antiquity apply'd Th' Etesian winds to raise this wondrous tide, Which blow at stated seasons of the year For several days, and long possess the air; Or thought vast clouds, which, driv'n before them, Beyond the South, discharg'd the burden'd sky On Nilus' head, and thence his current swell'd; Or that those winds the river's course repell'd, Which stopp'd, and press'd by th' entering sea, disdains

His banks, and issuing boils along the plains.

Some think vast pores, and gaps in earth abound, Where streams in silent veins creep under ground, Led from the chilling North, the line to meet, When pointed beams direct on Meroe beat, While the parch'd earth a watery succour craves; Then Po and Ganges roll their smother'd waves Deep through the vaults beneath; and, Nile supDischarges at one vent their mingled tide, [ply'd, Nor can the gather'd flood in one straight channel ride.

Some think the sea, which round all lands extends

His liquid arms, these gushing waters sends ;
That length of course the saltness wears away;
Or thus; since Phœbus and the stars, we say,
Drink ocean's streams; when, near hot Cancer's
The thirsty Sun a larger portion draws, [claws,
That more than air digests, attracted so,
Falls back by night, and causes Nile to flow.

Might I in so perplex'd a cause engage,

I think, since Nature grew mature in age,
Some waters, Cæsar, have deriv'd their birth
From veins by strong convulsions broke in earth!
And some coeval with the world began,
And starting through appointed channels ran,
When this whole frame th' Almighty Builder rear'd,
Ordain'd its laws, and its first motions steer'd.

The kings of Greece, of Egypt, and the East,
Ardent like you, were with this wish possest,
And every age has labour'd to attain

The wondrous truth, but labour'd still in vain,
For Nature lurks obscure, and mocks their pain.
Philip's great son, whose consecrated name
Memphis adores, the first in regal fame,
Envious of this, detach'd a chosen band
To range th' extreme of Ethiopia's sand!
They pass the scorching soil, and only view
Where hotter streams their constant way pursue.
The farthest west our great Sesostris saw,
While harness'd kings his lofty chariot draw,
Yet drank your Rhodanus and Padus first

At both their springs, ere Nile obey'd his thirst.
Cambyses, mad with lust of power t' o'er-run
The long-liv'd nations of the rising Sun,

VOL X.

To promis'd spoils a numerous army led;
His famish'd soldiers on each other fed,
Exhausted he return'd, nor saw great Nilus' head :-
Nor boasting Fame pretends to make it known;
Where'er thou flow'st, thy springs possest by none,
And not one land can call thee, Nile, her own.
Yet what the god, who did thy birth conceal,
Has giv'n to know, to Cæsar I'll reveal.

First from the Southern pole thy stream we trace,
Which rolling forward with a speedy pace,
Under hot Cancer is directly driven
Against Bootes' wain, far in the north of Heaven.
Yet winding in thy course from east to west,
Arabia now, now Libya's sands are blest
With thy cool flood; which first the Seres spy,
Yet seek thee too; thy current, rolling by,
Through Æthiopia next, a stranger, flows.
Nor can the world perceive to whom it owes
Thy sacred birth, which Nature hid from all,
Lest any nation should behold thee small,
And, covering deep thy infant head, requir'd
That none should find what is by all admir'd.

Thou, by a law to other streams unknown, In summer's solstice o'er thy banks art thrown, And bring'st in thy full tide a winter of thy own. To thee alone 'tis given thy waves to roll Athwart the globe, enlarg'd to either pole; These nations seek thy fountain, these would trace Thy gulph. With spacious arms thou dost embrace Hot Meroc, fruitful to a sooty race, And proud of ebon woods; yet no retreat Their useless shades afford to shun th' excessive

heat.

Then through the regions of the scorching Sun,
Not lessen'd by his thirst, thy waters run.
O'er barren sands they take a tedious course,
Now rolling in one tide their gather'd force;
Now wandering in their way, and sprinkled round,
Thy channel here its scatter'd troops regains,
O'er yielding banks thy wanton billows bound.
Between th' Egyptian and Arabian plains,
Where Philas bounds the realm; with easy pace
Thy slippery waves through deserts cut their race,
Where Nature by a tract of land divides
Our sea, distinguish'd from the Red-Sea's tides.
Who that beholds thee here so gently flow,
Would think thou ever could'st tempestuous grow?
But when o'er rugged cliffs and ways unev'n
In steepy cataracts thou'rt headlong driv'n,
Thy rushing waves, resisted, fiercer fly,
And batter'd froth rebounding fills the sky,
The hills remurmur with the dashing sound,
Thy billows ride triumphant far around,
And rear their conquering heads with hoary ho-
nours crown'd.

Hence shaken Abatos first feels thy rage,
And rocks, which in our great forefathers age
Were call'd the river's veins; because they show
His first increase, and symptoms of his flow.
Vast piles of mountains here encompass wide
His streams, to Libya's thirsty land deny'd,
Which thus enclos'd in a deep valley glide.
At Memphis first he sees the open plains,
Then flows at large, and his low banks disdains,

While thus secure, as if no danger nigh,

Till Night's black steeds had travell'd half the sky,
They pass the hours of rest, Pothinus' mind
From brooding mischief can no leisure find,

F