Fragments of the civil war
Now haughty Rome reigned mistress of the Globe, Where'er the Ether shines with heavenly fires, Or Earth extends, or circling Ocean rolls. Yet still insatiate, her winged navies plowed The burdened main, to each unplundered shore; For to the rich she bore immortal hate, And her own avarice still prepared her Fall. E'en former pleasures were beheld with scorn, As joys grown threadbare by too vulgar use. The soldier now admired th’ Assyrian dye, And now th’ Hesperian charmed his fickle pride. Numidia here the lofty roof sustained; There shone the honors of Serean looms; Arabia of her balmy sweets was spoiled; Yet still unquenched, the lust of ravage burned. In Maurian wilds, and Ammon’s distant reign, Monsters were captived for our cruel sports. The stranger tiger in his golden cage Now crossed the main to press our friendly shore; Whilst joyful Rome her monster entertained With purple streams of her own kindred blood.
I blush to speak, I tremble to recite Our Persian manners, and our curse of Fate! From Youth they snatched the Man with cruel art, Whilst Venus frowned o'er the retreating tide; As if they thought to favor the deceit, E'en Age itself would like that tide retire! Nature was lost, and sought herself in vain. Hence naught but lewd effeminacies please, Soft curling hair, and wantonness of dress, And all that can disgrace man’s godlike form. From Afric slaves and purple carpets come, With citron tables, rich in golden stains, Around whose costly, but dishonored pride, Buried in wine, the giddy drunkards lie. Nothing escapes our raging lust of taste; The soldier draws his sword in rapine’s cause; And from Sicilia’s distant main the scar Is brought alive to our luxurious board; The Lucrine shore is of its oysters spoiled, And hunger purchased with th’ expensive sauce; Phasis is widowed of its feathered race, And nothing heard o'er all the desert strand But trees remurmuring to the passing gales.
Nor less in Mars’s Field Corruption swayed, Where every vote was prostitute to gain; The People and the Senate both were sold. E'en Age itself was deaf to Virtue’s voice, And all its court to sordid interest paid, Beneath whose feet lay trampled Majesty. E'en Cato’s self was by the crowd exiled, Whilst he who won suffused with blushes stood, Ashamed to snatch the power from worthier hands. Oh! shame to Rome and to the Roman name! ‘Twas not one man alone whom they exiled, But banished Virtue, Fame and Freedom too. Thus wretched Rome her own destruction bought, Herself the merchant, and herself the ware. Besides, in debt was the whole Empire bound, A prey to Usury’s insatiate jaws; Not one could call his house, or self, his own; But debts on debts like silent fevers wrought, Till through the members they the vitals seized.
Fierce tumults now they to their succor call, And War must heal the wounds of Luxury; For Want may safely dare without a fear. And sunk in hopeless misery, what could wake Licentious Rome from her voluptuous trance, But fire, and sword, and all the din of arms? Three mighty chiefs kind Fortune had supplied, Whom cruel Fate in various manner slew. The Parthian fields were drunk with Crassus’ gore; Great Pompey perished on the Libyan main; And thankless Rome saw greater Julius bleed. Thus as one soil too narrow were to hold Their rival dust, their ashes shared the World. But their immortal glory never dies. '
Twixt Naples and Dicharchian fields extends A horrid Gulf, immensely deep and wide, Through which Cocytus rolls his lazy streams, And poisons all the air with sulphurous fogs. No Autumn here e'er clothes himself with green, Nor joyful Spring the languid herbage cheers; Nor feathered warblers chant their mirthful strains In vernal comfort to the rustling boughs; But Chaos reigns, and ragged rocks around With naught but baleful cypress are adorned.
Amidst these horrors Pluto raised his head, With mingled flames and ashes sprinkled o'er, Stopped Fortune in her flight, and thus addressed:
Oh! thou controller of both Earth and Heaven, Who had'st the power which too securely stands, And only heap'st thy favors to resume; Dost thou not sink beneath Rome’s ponderous weight,
Unable to sustain her tottering pride? E'en Rome herself beneath her burden groans, And ill sustains Monopoly of Power. For see elate in Luxury of Spoils,
Her golden domes invade the frighted skies! Sea’s turned to land, and land is turned to sea, And injured Nature mourns her slighted Laws. E'en me they threaten, and besiege my Throne; The Earth is ransacked for her treasured stores, And in the solid hills such caverns made, That murmuring ghosts begin to hope for day. Change, Fortune, ergo change this prideful scene! Fire every Roman’s breast with civil rage, And give new subjects to my desert reign! For ne'er have I been joyed with human gore, Nor my Tisiphone e'er quenched her thirst, Since Sulla’s sword let loose the purple tide, And reaped the harvest of insatiate death.
He spoke … and lo! the opening Earth disclosed, And to the Goddess’ hand his hand he joined. Then Fortune, smiling, this reply addressed:
Oh! Father who Cocytus’ empire sways! If dangerous truths may safely be revealed, Enjoy your wish! not less my anger boils, And in my breast as fierce resentment burns. I hate the height to which I’ve lifted Rome, And my own lavished favors now repent. But that same God who built her haughty power, Shall soon rehumble to the dust her pride. Then I’ll with transport light the general flame, And with the plenteous slaughter feast revenge. Methinks I see Thessalia’s fatal plain Already heaped with dead, and funeral piles Innumerous blazing on Iberia’s shore! I see the Libyan sands distained with blood, And sevenfold Nile groans with prophetic fears! On every side the clang of arms resounds, An Actium’s flight seems present to my eyes! Then open all the portals of thy Reign, And give thy crowding subjects free access! Old Charon in his boats can ne'er convey The shoals of ghosts that for their passage wait, But needs a fleet!– Tisiphone may then Quench her dire thirst, and cloy herself with Fate. The mangled World is hurrying to thy Reign.
Scarce ended she her words, when from a cloud Blue lightnings flashed, and sudden thunders roared. Affrighted Pluto feared his brother’s darts, And trembling hid his head in shades of night.
The Gods by dreadful omens straight disclosed The deathful horrors of approaching Fate. The Sun in bloody clouds obscured his rays, As if he mourned the dreadful scene begun; Whilst trembling Cynthia fled the impious sight, Quenching her orb, and from the World withdrew. Mountains by sudden storms were overturned; And erring rivers left their channels dry. E'en Heaven itself confesses the alarm, And fierce battalions skirmish in the clouds; Etna redoubles all her sulphurous rage, And darts strange lightnings at th’ affrighted sky; Unburied ghosts too wander round the tombs, And with impatient threatenings ask repose; A fiery comet shakes her blazing hair; And wondering Jove descends in showers of blood. Nor was it long that Heaven th’ event concealed; For mighty Caesar panting for revenge, Gave peace to Gaul, and flew to Civil Arms.
Upon the towering Alps’ remotest height, Where the cragg’d rocks look down upon the clouds, A Grecian altar to Alcides smokes. There everlasting Winter bars access, And the ambitious summit props the skies; No Summer ever darts his genials beams, Nor vernal Zephyrs cheer the joyless air; But snows on snows accumulated rise, The icy pillars of the starry Orb. Here Caesar with his joyful legions climbed; Here camped; and from the lofty precipice, Surveying all Hesperia’s fertile plains. With hands uplifted, thus addressed his prayer:
Almighty Jove! And thou, Saturnian Earth, So oft by me with filial triumphs graced! Witness these arms I with reluctance bear, Compelled by matchless wrongs to War’s redress. Exiled and interdicted, whilst the Rhine I swelled beyond its banks with native gore, And to his Alps confined the haughty Gaul, Once more to storm your Capitol prepared. But what reward has all these toils repaid? Conquest alas! is by herself undone! Germania vanquished a new crime is deemed, And sixty Triumphs are with exile crowned. But what are they my glory thus compels To count the aid of mercenary arms? Oh! shame to Rome! My Rome disowns their birth Nor shall they long her injured honors stain, Beneath this arm their envious Chief shall fall! Come fellow-victors, rouse your martial rage, And with your conquering swords assert my cause! One is our danger, and our crime the same. It was not I alone reaped glory’s field, But thanks to you! by you these laurels won; Then since disgrace and punishment’s decreed, Mutual our trophies and victorious toils, The die be thrown! and Fortune judge the cast! Let each brave warrior grasp his shining blade! For me my rights already crowned appear, Nor 'midst so many heroes doubt success.
He spoke… . When swift-descending from the Sky, The Bird of Jove urged his auspicious flight. Strange voices in the left-hand woods were heard; And issuing flames flashed through the sylvan gloom. Phoebus himself assumed his brightest beams, And with unusual splendor cheered the day.
Fired with the omen, dauntless Caesar bids His engines move; himself the first t’ essay The dangerous path; for yet in frost confined And peaceful horrors lay the passive ground.
But when with ardent feet th’ innumerous train Of men and horse and icy fetters loosed, To fierce resistance swelled the melted snows, And sudden rivers o'er the mountains rolled. But soon again as if by Fate’s command, The rising waves in icy billows stood; Whilst in confusion o'er the treacherous path Horses and men and mingled standards lay. To aid the horror, sudden winds compel The gathering clouds, and burst into a storm, Thick o'er their ringing arms and hail descends, And from the Ether pours an icy sea; One common ruin conquers Earth and Sky, And frighted rivers hurry o'er their banks; But dauntless Caesar aided by his spear Still presses forward with unshaken soul.
With such an ardor was Alcides fired, When down Caucasian steeps he rushed to fame. And thus descending from Olympus’ brow, Almighty Jove the Giants put to flight.
Meantime on trembling pinions through the Skies To Mount Palatium frighted Rumor flew. And to astonished Rome these tidings bore: A hostile Fleet is riding on the main, And o'er the Alps, with German conquests flushed, The vengeful Legions pour on guilty Rome. Straight Fire and Sword and all the dreadful train Of civil rage before their eyes appear! Distracting tumults every bosom swayed, And Reason 'midst the dubious fears was lost. This flies by land, and that confides the sea, As far less dangerous than his native shores! These run to arms; Fate aids the wild affright, And each obeys the guidance of his fears. No certain course the giddy vulgar know, But through the Gates in thronged confusion crowd, And rival terror;– Rome to Rumor yields, And weeping Romans leave their native seats. This is his hand his trembling children leads, And this his gods within his bosom hides, His long-loved threshold quits with mournful looks. And wings his curses at the absent foe. There on the husband’s breast the bride complains; And here his father’s age a pious youth Supports with filial care, nor feels his load, Nor fears but for his venerable charge. Whilst these, insensate! to the field convey Their treasured wealth, and glut the war with spoils.
As on the deep when stormy Auster blows, And mounts the billows with tumultuous rage, Th’ affrighted seamen ply their arts in vain; The pilots stand aghast; these lash their sails; Whilst these make land, and those avoid the shores, And rather Fortune than the rocks confide.
But what can paint the fears that seized all men, When both the Consuls with great Pompey fled? Pompey, Hydaspes’ and proud Pontus’ scourge, The rock of Pirates, whom with wonder Jove Had thrice beheld in the triumphal Car! That mighty Chief who gave the Euxine laws, And taught th’ admiring Bosphorus to obey, Oh shame! Deserted the Imperial Name, And meanly left both Rome and Fame behind! Whilst fickle Fortune gloried in his flight.
The Gods with horror see th’ intestine jars, And even celestial breasts consent to fear. For see the mild pacific train depart. Exiled the World by our impiety! First soft-winged Peace extends her snowy arm, And pulling o'er her brows her olive wreath, Seeks the Elysian shades with hasty flight. On her with downcast eyes meek Faith attends, And mourning Justice with disheveled hair, And weeping Concord with her garments rent.
But joyful Hell unbolts the brazen doors, And all her Furies quit the Stygian Court. Threatening Bellona with Erinys joins, And dire Megaera armed with fiery brands. Pale Death, insidious Fraud, and Massacre, With Rage, burst forth! Who from his fetters freed, Lifts high his gory head; a helmet hides His wounded visage, and his left hand grasps The shield of Mars horrid with countless darts. Whilst in his right a flaming torch appears, To light Destruction, and to fire the World.
The Gods descending also left the skies, Whilst wondering Atlas missed his usual load; And mortal jars even Heaven itself divide. In Caesar’s cause Dione first appeared; Her Pallas aided, and the God of War. Whilst in espousal of brave Pompey’s part Cynthia and Phoebus and Cyllene’s son And his own model, great Alcides, joined. The trumpets sound! When straight fell Discord raised
Her Stygian head, and shook her matted locks. With clotted blood her face was covered o'er, And gummy horrors from her eyes distilled; Two rows of cankered teeth deformed her mouth, And from her tongue a stream of poison flowed; Whilst hissing serpents played around her cheeks; Her livid skin with rags was scarce concealed, And in her trembling hand a torch she shook.
Ascending thus from the Tartarean gloom, She reached the top of lofty Apennine; Whence viewing all the subject land and sea, And armies floating on the crowded plains, This into words her joyful fury broke:
Now, rush ye Nations, rush to mutual arms, And let Dissension’s torch for ever burn! For flight no longer shall the Coward save, Nor age, nor sex, nor children’s pity move, But the Earth tremble, and her haughtiest towers Shake in convulsive ruins to the ground. Do thou, Marcellus, the Decree uphold; And Curio, thou excite the madding crowd! Nor thou, persuasive Lentulus, forbear To aid the Faction with thy potent tongue! But why, O Caesar, this delayed Revenge? Why burst'st thou not the Gates of guilty Rome, And mak'st her treasured pride thy welcome prey? And thou, O Pompey, know'st thou not thy power? If thou fear'st Rome, to Epidamnus haste, And feast Thessalia’s plain with human gore!
Thus Discord spoke… . The impious Earth obeyed.
THE SATYRICON by Gaius Titus Petronius Arbiter
* ca. 14; † 66 in Cumae
dedicated to the all war victims
Strange Meeting by Wilfred Owen
played by Brett