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Nor seeks again his banks, until the sun

In equal balance measures night and day.
Nor are the laws that govern other streams

Obeyed by Nile. For in the wintry year
Were he in flood, when distant far the sun,

His waters lacked their office; but he leaves
His channel when the summer is at height,

Tempering the torrid heat of Egypt's clime.
Such is the task of Nile; thus in the world

He finds his purpose, lest exceeding heat
Consume the lands: and rising thus to meet

Enkindled Lion, to Syene's prayers
By Cancer burnt gives ear; nor curbs his wave

Till the slant sun and Meroe's lengthening shades
Proclaim the autumn. Who shall give the cause?

'Twas Parent Nature's self which gave command
Thus for the needs of earth should flow the Nile.

"Vain too the fable that the western winds (14)
Control his current, in continuous course

At stated seasons governing the air;
Or hurrying from Occident to South

Clouds without number which in misty folds
Press on the waters; or by constant blast,

Forcing his current back whose several mouths
Burst on the sea; -- so, forced by seas and wind,

Men say, his billows pour upon the land.
Some speak of hollow caverns, breathing holes

Deep in the earth, within whose mighty jaws
Waters in noiseless current underneath

From northern cold to southern climes are drawn:
And when hot Meroe pants beneath the sun,

Then, say they, Ganges through the silent depths
And Padus pass: and from a single fount

The Nile arising not in single streams
Pours all the rivers forth. And rumour says

That when the sea which girdles in the world (15)
O'erflows, thence rushes Nile, by lengthy course,

Softening his saltness. More, if it be true
That ocean feeds the sun and heavenly fires,

Then Phoebus journeying by the burning Crab
Sucks from its waters more than air can hold

Upon his passage -- this the cool of night
Pours on the Nile.

"If, Caesar, 'tis my part
To judge such difference, 'twould seem that since

Creation's age has passed, earth's veins by chance
Some waters hold, and shaken cast them forth:

But others took when first the globe was formed
A sure abode; by Him who framed the world

Fixed with the Universe.
"And, Roman, thou,

In thirsting thus to know the source of Nile
Dost as the Pharian and Persian kings

And those of Macedon; nor any age
Refused the secret, but the place prevailed

Remote by nature. Greatest of the kings
By Memphis worshipped, Alexander grudged (16)

To Nile its mystery, and to furthest earth
Sent chosen Ethiops whom the crimson zone

Stayed in their further march, while flowed his stream
Warm at their feet. Sesostris (17) westward far

Reached, to the ends of earth; and necks of kings
Bent 'neath his chariot yoke: but of the springs

Which fill your rivers, Rhone and Po, he drank.
Not of the fount of Nile. Cambyses king

In madman quest led forth his host to where
The long-lived races dwell: then famine struck,

Ate of his dead (17) and, Nile unknown, returned.
No lying rumour of thy hidden source

Has e'er made mention; wheresoe'er thou art
Yet art thou sought, nor yet has nation claimed

In pride of place thy river as its own.
Yet shall I tell, so far as has the god,

Who veils thy fountain, given me to know.
Thy progress. Daring to upraise thy banks

'Gainst fiery Cancer's heat, thou tak'st thy rise
Beneath the zenith: straight towards the north

And mid Bootes flowing; to the couch
Bending, or to the risings, of the sun

In sinuous bends alternate; just alike
To Araby's peoples and to Libyan sands.

By Seres (18) first beheld, yet know they not
Whence art thou come; and with no native stream

Strik'st thou the Ethiop fields. Nor knows the world
To whom it owes thee. Nature ne'er revealed

Thy secret origin, removed afar.
Nor did she wish thee to be seen of men

While still a tiny rivulet, but preferred
Their wonder to their knowledge. Where the sun

Stays at his limit, dost thou rise in flood
Untimely; such try right: to other lands

Bearing try winter: and by both the poles
Thou only wanderest. Here men ask thy rise

And there thine ending. Meroe rich in soil
And tilled by swarthy husbandmen divides

Thy broad expanse, rejoicing in the leaves
Of groves of ebony, which though spreading far

Their branching foliage, by no breadth of shade
Soften the summer sun -- whose rays direct

Pass from the Lion to the fervid earth. (20)
Next dost thou journey onwards past the realm

Of burning Phoebus, and the sterile sands,
With equal volume; now with all thy strength

Gathered in one, and now in devious streams
Parting the bank that crumbles at thy touch.

Then by our kingdom's gates, where Philae parts
Arabian peoples from Egyptian fields

The sluggish bosom of thy flood recalls
Try wandering currents, which through desert wastes

Flow gently on to where the merchant track
Divides the Red Sea waters from our own.

Who, gazing, Nile, upon thy tranquil flow,
Could picture how in wild array of foam

(Where shelves the earth) thy billows shall be plunged
Down the steep cataracts, in fuming wrath

That rocks should bar the passage of thy stream
Free from its source? For whirled on high the spray

Aims at the stars, and trembles all the air
With rush of waters; and with sounding roar

The foaming mass down from the summit pours
In hoary waves victorious. Next an isle

In all our ancient lore "untrodden" named
Stems firm thy torrent; and the rocks we call

Springs of the river, for that here are marked
The earliest tokens of the coming flood.

With mountain shores now nature hems thee in
And shuts thy waves from Libya; in the midst

Hence do thy waters run, till Memphis first
Forbids the barrier placed upon thy stream

And gives thee access to the open fields."
Thus did they pass, as though in peace profound,

The nightly watches. But Pothinus' mind,
Once with accursed butchery imbued,

Was frenzied still; since great Pompeius fell
No deed to him was crime; his rabid soul

Th' avenging goddesses and Magnus' shade
Stirred to fresh horrors; and a Pharian hand

No less was worthy, as he deemed, to shed
That blood which Fortune purposed should bedew

The conquered fathers: and the fell revenge
Due to the senate for the civil war

This hireling almost snatched. Avert, ye fates,
Far hence the shame that not by Brutus' hand

This blow be struck! Shall thus the tyrant's fall
Just at our hands, become a Pharian crime,

Reft of example? To prepare a plan
(Fated to fail) he dares; nor veils in fraud

A plot for murder, but with open war
Attacks th' unconquered chieftain: from his crimes

He gained such courage as to send command
To lop the head of Caesar, and to join

In death the kinsmen chiefs.
These words by night

His faithful servants to Achillas bear,
His foul associate, whom the boy had made

Chief of his armies, and who ruled alone
O'er Egypt's land and o'er himself her king:

"Now lay thy limbs upon the sumptuous couch
And sleep in luxury, for the Queen hath seized

The palace; nor alone by her betrayed,
But Caesar's gift, is Pharos. Dost delay

Nor hasten to the chamber of thy Queen?
Thou only? Married to the Latian chief,

The impious sister now her brother weds
And hurrying from rival spouse to spouse

Hath Egypt won, and plays the bawd for Rome.
By amorous potions she has won the man:

Then trust the boy! Yet give him but a night
In her enfondling arms, and drunk with love

Thy life and mine he'll barter for a kiss.
We for his sister's charms by cross and flame

Shall pay the penalty: nor hope of aid;
Here stands adulterous Caesar, here the King

Her spouse: how hope we from so stern a judge
To gain acquittal? Shall she not condemn

Those who ne'er sought her favours? By the deed
We dared together and lost, by Magnus' blood

Which wrought the bond between us, be thou swift
With hasty tumult to arouse the war:

Dash in with nightly band, and mar with death
Their shameless nuptials: on the very bed

With either lover smite the ruthless Queen.
Nor let the fortunes of the Western chief

Make pause our enterprise. We share with him
The glory of his empire o'er the world.

Pompeius fallen makes us too sublime.
There lies the shore that bids us hope success:

Ask of our power from the polluted wave,
And gaze upon the scanty tomb which holds

Not all Pompeius' ashes. Peer to him
Was he whom now thou fearest. Noble blood

True, is not ours: what boots it? Nor are realms
Nor wealth of peoples given to our command.

Yet have we risen to a height of power
For deeds of blood, and Fortune to our hands

Attracts her victims. Lo! a nobler now
Lies in our compass, and a second death

Hesperia shall appease; for Caesar's blood,
Shed by these hands, shall give us this, that Rome

Shall love us, guilty of Pompeius' fall.
Why fear these titles, why this chieftain's strength?



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