Chase Phœbus and enrag'd affect his place,
And strive to shine by day, and full of strife
Dissolve the engines of the broken world.
All great things crush themselves; such end the gods
Allot the height of honor; men so strong,
By land and sea, no foreign force could ruin.
O Rome! thyself art cause of all these evils,
Thyself thus shiver'd out to three men's shares;
Dire league of partners in a kingdom lasts not.
O faintly join'd friends with ambition blind,
Why join you force to share the world betwixt you?
While th' earth, the sea, and air, the earth sustains;
While Titan strives against the world's swift course;
Or Cynthia, night's queen, waits upon the day;
Shall never faith be found in fellow kings.
Dominion cannot suffer partnership;
This needs no foreign proof, nor far fet story:
Rome's infant walls were steep'd in brothers' blood;
Nor then was land or sea, to breed such hate;
A town with one poor church set them at odds.
Cæsar's and Pompey's jarring love soon ended,
'Twas peace against their wills; betwixt them both
Step'd Crassus in, even as the slender isthmus
Betwixt the Ægean and the Ionian sea,
Keeps each from other, but being worn away,
They both burst out, and each encounter other:
So when as Crassus' wretched death,who stayed them,
Had fill'd Assyrian Carras' walls with blood,
His loss made way for Roman outrages.
Parthians, y' afflict us more than 'ye suppose:

Being conquered, we are plagu'd with civil war,
Swords share our empire; fortune, that made Rome
Govern the earth, the sea, the world itself,
Would not admit two lords: for Julia

Snatch'd hence by cruel fates with ominous howls,
Bare down to hell her son, the pledge of peace,
And all bands of that death presaging alliance.
Julia! had heaven given thee longer life

Thou had'st restrain'd thy headstrong husband's rage,
Yea and thy father too, and swords thrown down,
Made all shake hands as once the Sabines did;
Thy death broke amity and train'd to war
These captains emulous of each others glory.
Thou feard'st, great Pompey! that late deeds would
dim

Old triumphs, and that Cæsar's conquering France,
Would dash the wreath thou wear'dst for pirates'wrack.
Thee war's use stir'd, and thoughts that always scorn'd
A second place; Pompey could bide no equal,
Nor Cæsar no superior; which of both

Had justest cause, unlawful 'tis to judge:
Each side had great partakers; Cæsar's cause
The gods abetted; Cato lik'd the other;
Both differ'd much; Pompey was struck in years,
And by long rest forgot to manage arms,
And being popular sought by liberal gifts,
To gain the light unstable commons' love,
And joy'd to hear his theatres applause;
He liv'd secure boasting his former deeds,
And thought his name sufficient to uphold him ;

Like to a tall oak in a fruitful field,

Bearing old spoils and conquerors' monuments,
Who though his root be weak, and his own weight,
Keep him within the ground, his arms all bare,
His body (not his boughs) send forth a shade;
Though every blast it nod, and seem to fall,
When all the woods about stand bolt upright,
Yet he alone is held in reverence.

Cæsar's renown for war was less, he restless,
Shaming to strive but where he did subdue;
When ire or hope provok'd, heady, and bold
At all times charging home, and making havoc;
Urging his fortune, trusting in the gods,
Destroying what withstood his proud desires,
And glad when blood and ruin made him way:
So thunder which the wind tears from the clouds,
With crack of riven air and hideous sound,
Filling the world, leaps out and throws forth fire,
Affrights poor fearful men, and blasts their eyes
With overtwharting flames, and raging shoots
Along the air, and not resisting it,

Falls, and returns, and shivers where it lights.
Such humours stir'd them up; but this war's seed
Was e'en the same that racks all great dominion;
When fortune made us lords of all, wealth flowed,
And then we grew licentious and rude;

The soldiers' prey and rapine brought in riot;
Men took delight in jewels, houses, plate,
And scorn'd old sparing diet, and ware robes
Too light for women; Poverty, who hatch'd

Rome's greatest wits, was loath'd, and all the world
Ransack'd for gold, which breeds the world decay;
And then large limits had their butting lands;
The ground which Curius and Camillus till'd,
Was stretch'd unto the fields of hinds unknown;
Again, this people could not brook calm peace;
Them freedom without war might not suffice;
Quarrels were rife; greedy desire, still poor,
Did vile deeds; then 'twas worth the price of blood,
And deem'd renown to spoil their native town:
Force master'd right, the strongest govern'd all;
Hence came it that th' edicts were over-rul'd,
That laws were broke, tribunes with consuls strove,
Sale made of offices, and people's voices,
Bought by themselves and sold, and every year
Frauds and corruption in the field of Mars;

Hence interest and devouring usury sprang,

Faith's breach, and hence came war to most men welcome.

Now Cæsar overpast the snowy Alps;

His mind was troubled, and he aim'd at war,

And coming to the ford of Rubicon,

At night in dreadful vision fearful Rome,

Mourning appear'd, whose hoary hairs were torn,
And on her turret-bearing head dispers'd,
And arins all naked, who with broken sighs,

And staring, thus bespoke," what meanst thou
Cæsar?

Whither goes my standard? Romans if ye be,
And bear true hearts, stay! hear!" this spectacle

Struck Cæsar's heart with fear, his hair stood up,
And faintness numm'd his steps there on the brink.
He thus cried out:-" Thou thunderer that guard'st
Rome's mighty walls, built on Tarpeian rock!
Ye gods of Phrygia and Julius' line,

Quirinus' rites and Latian Jove advanc'd,
On Alba hill! O vestal flames! O Rome!
My thought's sole goddess, aid mine enterprise!
I hate thee not, to thee my conquests stoop,
Cæsar is thine, so please it thee, thy soldier;
He, he afflicts Rome that made me Rome's foe."
This said, he laying aside all lets of war,

Approach'd the swelling stream with drum and ensign,

Like to a lion of scorch'd desert Afric,

Who, seeing hunters, pauseth 'till fell wrath
And kingly rage increase, then having whisk'd
His tail athwart his back, and crest heav'd up,
With jaws wide open ghastly roaring out;
(Albeit the Moor's light javelin or his spear
Sticks in his side) yet runs upon the hunter.
In summer-time the purple Rubicon,

Which issues from a small spring, is but shallow,
And creeps along the vales, dividing just
The bounds of Italy from Cisalpine France;
But now the winter's wrath, and wat'ry moon
Being three days old, enforc'd the flood to swell,
And frozen Alps thaw'd with resolving winds.
The thunder-hoof'd horse, in a crooked line,
To 'scape the violence of the stream, first waded;