What need I name the violated laws,
And famine made the fervant of his cause?
Who knows not, how the trembling judge beheld
The peaceful court with armed legions fill'd;
When the bold foldier, justice to defy,
In the mid Forum rear'd his enfigns high;
When glittering fwords the pale affembly scar'd,
When all for death and flaughter ftood prepar'd,
And Pompey's arms were guilty Milo's guard?
And now, disdaining peace and needful ease,
Nothing but rule and government can please.
Afpiring ftill, as ever, to be great,
He robs his age of reft, to vex the state:
On war intent, to that he bends his cares,
And for the field for battle now prepares.
He copies from his mafter Sylla well,
And would the dire example far excel.
Hyrcanian tigers fiercenefs thus retain,
Whom in the woods their horrid mothers train,
To chace the herds, and furfeit on the flain.
Such, Pompey, still has been thy greedy thirst, 596
In early love of impious flaughter nurft;
Since first thy infant cruelty effay'd
To lick the curst dictator's reeking blade.
None ever give the falvage nature o'er,
Whofe jaws have once been drench'd in floods of gore.
But whither would a power so wide extend? Where will thy long ambition find an end? Remember him who taught thee to be great; Let him who chose to quit the fovereign feat, Let thy own Sylla warn thee to retreat.
The feeds of piety their rage restrain'd,
And fomewhat of their country's love remain❜d;
These the rude paffions of their foul withstood,
Elate to conqueft, and inur'd to blood:
But foon the momentary virtue fail'd,
And war and dread of Cæfar's frown prevail'd.
Straight Lelius from amidst the reft ftood forth,
An old centurion of diftinguifh'd worth;
The oaken wreath his hardy temples wore,
Mark of a citizen preferv'd he bore.
If against thee (he cry'd) I may exclaim,
Thou greateft leader of the Roman name;
If truth for injur'd honour may be bold,
What lingering patience does thy arms withhold? 650
Canft thou diftruft our faith so often try'd,
In thy long wars not fhrinking from thy fide?
While in my veins this vital torrent flows,
This heaving breath within my bofom blows;
While yet these arms fufficient vigour yield
To dart the javelin, and to lift the shield;
While these remain, my general, wilt thou own
The vile dominion of the lazy gown?
Wilt thou the lordly fenate choose to bear,
Rather than conquer in a civil war?
With thee the Scythian wilds we'll wander o'er,
With thee the burning Libyan fands explore,
And tread the Syrt's inhofpitable shore.
Behold! this hand, to nobler labours train'd,
For thee the fervile oar has not disdain'd,
All lift their well-approving hands on high,
And rend with peals of loud applause the sky.
Such is the found when Thracian Boreas spreads
His weighty wing o'er Offa's piney heads:
At once the noify groves are all inclin❜d,
And, bending, roar beneath the sweeping wind ;
At once their rattling branches all they rear,
And drive the leafy clamour through the air.
Cæfar with joy the ready bands beheld,
Urg'd-on by fate, and eager for the field;
Swift orders ftraight the fcatter'd warriors call,
From every part of wide-extended Gaul;
And, left his fortune languish by delay,
To Rome the moving enfigns speed their way.
Some, at the bidding of the chief, forsake
Their fix'd encampment near the Leman lake:
Some from Vogefus' lofty rocks withdraw,
Plac'd on those heights the Lingones to awe;
The Lingones ftill frequent in alarms,
And rich in many-colour'd painted arms.
Others from Ifara's low torrent came,
Who winding keeps through many a mead his name;
But feeks the fea with waters not his own,
Loft and confounded in the nobler Rhone.
Their garrison the Ruthen city fend,
Whose youth's long locks in yellow rings depend.
No more the Varus and the Atax feel
The lordly burden of the Latian keel.
Alcides' fane the troops commanded leave,
Where winding rocks the peaceful flood receive; 725
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