He that denies them makes our quarrel just.
Nay! use the strength that we have made our own.
No booty seek we, nor
imperial power.
This would-be ruler of subservient Rome
We force to quit his grasp; and Heaven shall smile
On those who seek to drag the
tyrant down."
Thus Caesar spake; but
doubtful murmurs ran
Throughout the listening crowd, this way and that
Their wishes urging them; the thoughts of home
And household gods and
kindred gave them pause:
But fear of Caesar and the pride of war
Their doubts
resolved. Then Laelius, who wore
The well-earned crown for Roman life preserved,
The
foremost Captain of the army, spake:
"O greatest leader of the Roman name,
If 'tis thy wish the very truth to hear
'Tis mine to speak it; we
complain of this,
That
gifted with such strength thou did'st refrain
From using it. Had'st thou no trust in us?
While the hot life-blood fills these glowing veins,
While these strong arms avail to hurl the lance,
Wilt thou make peace and bear the Senate's rule?
Is civil
conquest then so base and vile?
Lead us through Scythian deserts, lead us where
The inhospitable Syrtes line the shore
Of Afric's burning sands, or where thou wilt:
This hand, to leave a conquered world behind,
Held firm the oar that tamed the Northern Sea
And Rhine's swift
torrent foaming to the main.
To follow thee fate gives me now the power:
The will was mine before. No citizen
I count the man 'gainst whom thy trumpets sound.
By ten campaigns of
victory, I swear,
By all thy world-wide triumphs, though with hand
Unwilling, should'st thou now demand the life
Of sire or brother or of
faithfulspouse,
Caesar, the life were thine. To spoil the gods
And sack great Juno's
temple on the hill,
To plant our arms o'er Tiber's yellow stream,
To
measure out the camp, against the wall
To drive the fatal ram, and raze the town,
This arm shall not refuse, though Rome the prize."
His comrades swore consent with lifted hands
And vowed to follow wheresoe'er he led.
And such a clamour rent the sky as when
Some Thracian blast on Ossa's pine-clad rocks
Falls
headlong, and the loud re-echoing woods,
Or bending, or rebounding from the stroke,
In sounding
chorus lift the roar on high.
When Csesar saw them
welcome thus the war
And Fortune leading on, and favouring fates,
He seized the moment, called his troops from Gaul,
And breaking up his camp set on for Rome.
The tents are
vacant by Lake Leman's side;
The camps upon the beetling crags of Vosges
No longer hold the
warlike Lingon down,
Fierce in his painted arms; Isere is left,
Who past his shallows gliding, flows at last
Into the current of more famous Rhone,
To reach the ocean in another name.
The fair-haired people of Cevennes are free:
Soft Aude
rejoicing bears no Roman keel,
Nor pleasant Var, since then Italia's bound;
The harbour
sacred to Alcides' name
Where hollow crags encroach upon the sea,
Is left in freedom: there nor Zephyr gains
Nor Caurus
access, but the Circian blast (16)
Forbids the roadstead by Monaecus' hold.
And others left the
doubtful shore, which sea
And land
alternate claim, whene'er the tide
Pours in amain or when the wave rolls back --
Be it the wind which thus compels the deep
From furthest pole, and leaves it at the flood;
Or else the moon that makes the tide to swell,
Or else, in search of fuel (17) for his fires,
The sun draws heavenward the ocean wave; --
Whate'er the cause that may control the main
I leave to others; let the gods for me
Lock in their breasts the secrets of the world.
Those who kept watch beside the
western shore
Have moved their standards home; the happy Gaul
Rejoices in their
absence; fair Garonne
Through
peaceful meads glides
onward to the sea.
And where the river broadens, neath the cape
Her quiet harbour sleeps. No
outstretched arm
Except in mimic war now hurls the lance.
No skilful
warrior of Seine directs
The scythed
chariot 'gainst his country's foe.
Now rest the Belgians, and the Arvernian race
That boasts our kinship by
descent from Troy;
And those brave rebels whose undaunted hands
Were dipped in Cotta's blood, and those who wear
Sarmatian garb. Batavia's
warriors
fierceNo longer listen for the bugle call,
Nor those who dwell where Rhone's swift eddies sweep
Saone to the ocean; nor the mountain tribes
Who dwell about its source. Thou, too, oh Treves,
Rejoicest that the war has left thy bounds.
Ligurian tribes, now shorn, in ancient days
First of the long-haired nations, on whose necks
Once flowed the
auburn locks in pride supreme;
And those who pacify with blood accursed
Savage Teutates, Hesus'
horrid shrines,
And Taranis' altars cruel as were those
Loved by Diana (18),
goddess of the north;
All these now rest in peace. And you, ye Bards,
Whose
martial lays send down to distant times
The fame of valorous deeds in battle done,
Pour forth in safety more
abundant song.
While you, ye Druids (19), when the war was done,
To mysteries strange and
hateful rites returned:
To you alone 'tis given the gods and stars
To know or not to know; secluded groves
Your dwelling-place, and forests far remote.
If what ye sing be true, the shades of men
Seek not the
dismal homes of Erebus
Or death's pale kingdoms; but the
breath of life
Still rules these bodies in another age --
Life on this hand and that, and death between.
Happy the peoples 'neath the Northern Star
In this their false
belief; for them no fear
Of that which frights all others: they with hands
And hearts undaunted rush upon the foe
And scorn to spare the life that shall return.
Ye too depart who kept the banks of Rhine
Safe from the foe, and leave the Teuton tribes
Free at their will to march upon the world.
Caesar, with strength increased and gathered troops
New efforts
daring, spreads his bands afar
Through Italy, and fills the neighbouring towns.
Then empty rumour to well-grounded fear
Gave strength, and heralding the coming war
In hundred voices 'midst the people spread.
One cries in
terror, "Swift the squadrons come
Where Nar with Tiber joins: and where, in meads
By oxen loved, Mevania spreads her walls,
Fierce Caesar hurries his
barbarian horse.
Eagles and standards wave above his head,
And broad the march that sweeps across the land."
Nor is he pictured truly; greater far
More
fierce and
pitiless -- from conquered foes
Advancing; in his rear the peoples march.
Snatched from their homes between the Rhine and Alps,
To pillage Rome while Roman chiefs look on.
Thus each man's panic thought swells rumour's lie:
They fear the phantoms they themselves create.
Nor does the
terror seize the crowd alone:
But fled the Fathers, to the Consuls (20) first
Issuing their hated order, as for war;
And doubting of their safety, doubting too
Where lay the peril, through the choking gates,
Each where he would, rushed all the people forth.
Thou would'st believe that blazing to the torch
Were men's abodes, or nodding to their fall.
So streamed they
onwards, frenzied with affright,
As though in exile only could they find
Hope for their country. So, when southern blasts
From Libyan whirlpools drive the
boundless main,
And mast and sail crash down upon a ship
With
ponderous weight, but still the frame is sound,
Her crew and captain leap into the sea,
Each making
shipwreck for himself. 'Twas thus
They passed the city gates and fled to war.
No aged parent now could stay his son;
Nor wife her
spouse, nor did they pray the gods
To grant the safety of their fatherland.
None
linger on the
threshold for a look
Of their loved city, though
perchance the last.
Ye gods, who
lavishpriceless gifts on men,
Nor care to guard them, see
victorious Rome
Teeming with life, chief city of the world,
With ample walls that all mankind might hold,
To coming Caesar left an easy prey.
The Roman soldier, when in foreign lands
Pressed by the enemy, in narrow trench
And
hurried mound finds guard enough to make
His
slumber safe; but thou,
imperial Rome,
Alone on rumour of advancing foes
Art left a desert, and thy battlements
They trust not for one night. Yet for their fear
This one excuse was left; Pompeius fled.
Nor found they room for hope; for nature gave
Unerring portents of worse ills to come.
The angry gods filled earth and air and sea
With
frequent prodigies; in darkest nights
Strange constellations sparkled through the gloom:
The pole was all afire, and torches flew
Across the depths of heaven; with
horrid hair
A blazing comet stretched from east to west
And threatened change to kingdoms. From the blue
Pale
lightning flashed, and in the murky air
The fire took
divers shapes; a lance afar
Would seem to
quiver or a misty torch;
A noiseless
thunderbolt from cloudless sky
Rushed down, and
drawing fire in northern parts
Plunged on the
summit of the Alban mount.
The stars that run their courses in the night
Shone in full
daylight; and the orbed moon,
Hid by the shade of earth, grew pale and wan.
The sun himself, when poised in mid career,
Shrouded his burning car in blackest gloom