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He who so lately, with undaunted pride,

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,

up, and struggled for success with fate;
Now abject foes and flaves insulting fears,
And shrinks beneath a shower of Pharian spears.
The warrior who disdain'd to be confin'd
By Tyrian Gades, or the eastern Inde,
Now in a narrow house conceals that head,
From which the fiercest Scythians once had fled,
And horrid Moors beheld with awful dread.
From room to room irresolute he flies,
And on some guardian bar or door relies.
So boys and helpless maids, when towns are won,

To secret corners for protection run.
Still by his fide the beardless 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 shades below;
Resolves his head a victim first shall fall,
Hurld at his flaves from off the lofty wall.
So from Æëtes fierce Medea fied,
Her sword still aim'd at young Absyrtos' head;
Whene’er she sees her vengeful fire draw nigh, 690
Ruthless the dooms the wretched boy should die.
Yet ere these cruel last extremes he proves,
By gentler steps of peace the Roman moves :
He fends an envoy, in the royal name,
To chide their fury, and the war disclaim.

695 But


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But impious they nor gods nor kings regard,
Nor universal laws, by all rever'd;
No right of sacred characters they know,
But tear the olive from the hallow'd brow;
To death the messenger of peace pursue,

700 And in his blood their horrid hands ėmbrue.

Such are the palms which curs’d Ægyptians claim, Such prodigies exalt their nation's name. Nor purple Thessaly's destructive shore, Nor dire Pharnaces, nor the Libyan Moor, 705 Nor every barbarous land, in every age, Equal a soft Ægyptian eunuch’s rage.

Incefîant still 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 spreading mischief Aling: Bellowing around they run with fruitless pain, Heave at the doors, and thrust and strive in vain : More than a wall, great Cæsar's fortune stands, And mocks the madness of their feeble hands. 715

On one proud fide the lofty fabric stood Projected bold into th' adjoining flood; There, fill’d with armed bands, their barks draw near, But find the fame defending Cæsar 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 seems to be invaded, but t’invade. Against the ships Phalaric darts he aims; Each dart with pitch and livid sulphur fames.

725 The



The spreading fire o'er-runs their unetuous fides,
And, nimbly mounting, on the top-mast rides :
Planks, yards and cordage, feed the dreadful blaze;
The drowning vessel hifles in the seas;
While floating arms and men, promiscuous strow'd, 730
Hide the whole surface of the azure flood.
Nor dwells destruction on their fleet alone,
But, driven by winds, invades the neighbouring town :
On rapid wings the sheety fames they bear,
In wavy lengths, along the reddening air.

735 Not much unlike, the shooting meteors fly, In gleamy trails, athwart the midnight sky.

Soon as the croud behold their city burn, Thither, all headlong, from the fiege they turn. But Cæsar, prone to vigilance and haste,

740 To snatch the just occasion ere it pass’d, Hid in the friendly night's involving fhade, A safe retreat to Pharos timely made. In elder times of holy Proteus' reign, An ille it stood, incompass’d by the main :

745 Now by a mighty mole the town it joins, And from wide seas the safer port confines. Of high importance to the chief it lies, To him brings aid, and to the foe denies : In close restraint the captive town is held,

750 While free behind he views the watery field. There safe, with curs'd Pothinus in his power, Cæfar defers the villain's doom no more. Yet, ah! by means too gentle he expires ; No galhing knives he feels, no fcorching fires ; 75


Nor were his limbs by grinning tigers torn,
Nor pendent on the horrid crofs are borne:
Beneath the sword the wretch resigns his breath,
And dies too gloriously by Pompey's death.
Mean-while, by wily Ganymede convey'd,

Arsinoë, the younger royal maid,
Fled to the camp; and with a daring hand
Affumes the sceptre of supreme command :
And, for her feeble brother was not there,
She calls herself the sole Lagæan heir.

765 Then, since he dares dispute her right to reign, She dooms the fierce Achillas to be sain. With just remorse, repenting fortune paid This second victim to her Pompey's shade. But oh! nor this, nor Ptolemy, nor all

770 The race of Lagos doom'd at once to fall, Not hecatombs of tyrants shall suffice, Till Brutus strikes, and haughty Cæsar dies.

Nor yet the rage of war was huth'd in peace, Nor would that storm, with him who rais’d it, cease. A second eunuch to the talk succeeds, And Ganymede the power of Ægypt leads : He chears the drooping Pharians with success, And urg'd the Roman chief with new distress. Such dangers did one dreadful day afford, As annals might to latest times record, And consecrate to fame the warrior's sword.

While to their barks his faithful band defcends, Cæsar the mole's contracted space defends. Part from the crouded key aboard were pass’d, 785 The careful chief remain d among the last ;



When sudden Ægypt's furious powers unite,
And fix on him alone th’ unequal fight.
By land the numerous foot, by sea the fleet,
At once surround him, and prevent retreat. 790
No means for safety or escape remain,
To fight, or fly, were equally in vain :
A vulgar period on his wars attends,
And his ambitious life obscurely ends,
No seas of gore, no mountains of the slain,

Renown the fight on some distinguish'd plain :
But meanly in a tumult must he die,
And, over-borne by crouds, inglorious lie :
No room was left to fall as Cæfar mould,
So little were the hopes, his foes and fate allow'd. 800
At once the place and danger he surveys,
The rising mound, and the near neighbouring seas :
Some fainting struggling doubts as yet remain :
Can he, perhaps, his navy still regain?
Or shall he die, and end 1h' uncertain pain ?
At length, while madly thus perplex'd he burns,
His own brave Scxva to his thought returns ;
Scæva, who in the breach undaunted stood,
And fingly made the dreadful battle good;
Whose arm advancing Pompey's host repell’d, 810
And, coop'd within a wall, the captive leader held.
Strong in his foul the glorious image rose,
And taught him, sudden, to disdain his foes;
The force oppos’d in equal scales to weigh,
Himself was Cæsar, and Ægyptians they ;
To trust that fortune, and those gods, once more,
That never faild his daring hopes before.





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