And winds I call unceasing: hold not back
Thy
willing troops, but let them dare the sea;
Here
gladly shall they come to join my camp,
Though risking
shipwreck. Not in equal shares
The world has fallen between us: thou alone
Dost hold Italia, but Epirus I
And all the lords of Rome." Twice called and
thriceAntonius lingered still: but Caesar thought
To reap in full the favour of the gods,
Not sit supine; and
knowing danger yields
To whom heaven favours, he upon the waves
Feared by Antonius' fleets, in
shallow boat
Embarked, and
daring sought the further shore.
Now gentle night had brought
repose from arms;
And sleep, blest
guardian of the poor man's couch,
Restored the weary; and the camp was still.
The hour was come that called the second watch
When
mighty Caesar, in the silence vast
With
cautious tread
advanced to such a deed (29)
As slaves should dare not. Fortune for his guide,
Alone he passes on, and o'er the guard
Stretched in
repose he leaps, in secret wrath
At such a sleep. Pacing the winding beach,
Fast to a sea-worn rock he finds a boat
On ocean's marge
afloat. Hard by on shore
Its master dwelt within his
humble home.
No solid front it reared, for
sterile rush
And marshy reed enwoven formed the walls,
Propped by a shallop with its bending sides
Turned
upwards. Caesar's hand upon the door
Knocks twice and
thrice until the
fabric shook.
Amyclas from his couch of soft seaweed
Arising, calls: "What
shipwrecked sailor seeks
My
humble home? Who hopes for aid from me,
By fates
adverse compelled?" He stirs the heap
Upon the
hearth, until a tiny spark
Glows in the darkness, and throws wide the door.
Careless of war, he knew that civil strife
Stoops not to cottages. Oh! happy life
That
poverty affords! great gift of heaven
Too little understood! what
mansion wall,
What
temple of the gods, would feel no fear
When Caesar called for entrance? Then the chief:
"Enlarge thine hopes and look for better things.
Do but my bidding, and on yonder shore
Place me, and thou shalt cease from one poor boat
To earn thy living; and in years to come
Look for a rich old age: and trust thy fates
To those high gods whose wont it is to bless
The poor with sudden plenty." So he spake
E'en at such time in accents of command,
For how could Caesar else? Amyclas said,
"'Twere dangerous to brave the deep to-night.
The sun descended not in ruddy clouds
Or
peaceful rays to rest; part of his beams
Presaged a southern gale, the rest proclaimed
A northern
tempest; and his middle orb,
Shorn of its strength, permitted human eyes
To gaze upon his
grandeur; and the moon
Rose not with silver horns upon the night
Nor pure in middle space; her
slender points
Not drawn aright, but blushing with the track
Of raging
tempests, till her lurid light
Was sadly veiled within the clouds. Again
The forest sounds; the surf upon the shore;
The dolphin's mood,
uncertain where to play;
The sea-mew on the land; the heron used
To wade among the
shallows, borne aloft
And soaring on his wings -- all these alarm;
The raven, too, who plunged his head in spray,
As if to
anticipate the coming rain,
And trod the
margin with unsteady gait.
But if the cause demands, behold me thine.
Either we reach the bidden shore, or else
Storm and the deep
forbid -- we can no more."
Thus said he loosed the boat and raised the sail.
No sooner done than stars were seen to fall
In
flaming furrows from the sky: nay, more;
The pole star trembled in its place on high:
Black
horror marked the surging of the sea;
The main was boiling in long tracts of foam,
Uncertain of the wind, yet seized with storm.
Then spake the captain of the trembling bark:
"See what remorseless ocean has in store!
Whether from east or west the storm may come
Is still
uncertain, for as yet confused
The
billows tumble. Judged by clouds and sky
A
westerntempest: by the murmuring deep
A wild south-eastern gale shall sweep the sea.
Nor bark nor man shall reach Hesperia's shore
In this wild rage of waters. To return
Back on our course
forbidden by the gods,
Is our one
refuge, and with labouring boat
To reach the shore ere yet the nearest land
Way be too distant."
But great Caesar's trust
Was in himself, to make all dangers yield.
And thus he answered: "Scorn the threatening sea,
Spread out thy
canvas to the raging wind;
If for thy pilot thou refusest heaven,
Me in its stead receive. Alone in thee
One cause of
terror just -- thou dost not know
Thy comrade, ne'er deserted by the gods,
Whom fortune blesses e'en without a prayer.
Break through the middle storm and trust in me.
The burden of this fight fails not on us
But on the sky and ocean; and our bark
Shall swim the
billows safe in him it bears.
Nor shall the wind rage long: the boat itself
Shall calm the waters. Flee the nearest shore,
Steer for the ocean with unswerving hand:
Then in the deep, when to our ship and us
No other port is given, believe thou hast
Calabria's harbours. And dost thou not know
The purpose of such havoc? Fortune seeks
In all this
tumult of the sea and sky
A boon for Caesar." Then a hurricane
Swooped on the boat and tore away the sheet:
The fluttering sail fell on the
fragile mast:
And groaned the joints. From all the universe
Commingled perils rush. In Atlas' seas
First Corus (30) lifts his head, and stirs the depths
To fury, and had forced upon the rocks
Whole seas and oceans; but the
chilly north
Drove back the deep that doubted which was lord.
But Scythian Aquilo prevailed, whose blast
Tossed up the main and showed as
shallow pools
Each deep abyss; and yet was not the sea
Heaped on the crags, for Corus'
billows met
The waves of Boreas: such seas had clashed
Even were the winds
withdrawn; Eurus enraged
Burst from the cave, and Notus black with rain,
And all the winds from every part of heaven
Strove for their own; and thus the ocean stayed
Within his boundaries. No petty seas
Rapt in the storm are whirled. The Tuscan deep
Invades th' Aegean; in Ionian gulfs
Sounds wandering Hadria. How long the crags
Which that day fell, the Ocean's blows had braved!
What lofty peaks did vanquished earth resign!
And yet on yonder coast such
mighty waves
Took not their rise; from distant regions came
Those
monsterbillows,
driven on their course
By that great current which surrounds the world. (31)
Thus did the King of Heaven, when length of years
Wore out the forces of his
thunder, call
His brother's trident to his help, what time
The earth and sea one second kingdom formed
And ocean knew no limit but the sky.
Now, too, the sea had risen to the stars
In
mighty mass, had not Olympus' chief
Pressed down its waves with clouds: came not from heaven
That night, as others; but the murky air
Was dim with pallor of the realms below; (32)
The sky lay on the deep; within the clouds
The waves received the rain: the
lightning flash
Clove through the parted air a path obscured
By mist and darkness: and the
heavenly vaults
Re-echoed to the
tumult, and the frame
That holds the sky was
shaken. Nature feared
Chaos returned, as though the elements
Had burst their bonds, and night had come to mix
Th'
infernal shades with heaven.
In such turmoil
Not to have perished was their only hope.
Far as from Leucas point the
placid main
Spreads to the
horizon, from the
billow's crest
They viewed the
dashing of th' infuriate sea;
Thence sinking to the middle
trough, their mast
Scarce topped the
wateryheight on either hand,
Their sails in clouds, their keel upon the ground.
For all the sea was piled into the waves,
And drawn from depths between laid bare the sand.
The master of the boat forgot his art,
For fear o'ercame; he knew not where to yield
Or where to meet the wave: but safety came
From ocean's self at war: one
billow forced
The
vessel under, but a huger wave
Repelled it
upwards, and she rode the storm
Through every blast
triumphant. Not the shore
Of
humble Sason (33), nor Thessalia's coast
Indented, not Ambracia's
scanty ports
Dismay the sailors, but the giddy tops
Of high Ceraunia's cliffs.
But Caesar now,
Thinking the peril
worthy of his fates:
"Are such the labours of the gods?" exclaimed,
"Bent on my
downfall have they sought me thus,
Here in this puny skiff in such a sea?
If to the deep the glory of my fall
Is due, and not to war, intrepid still
Whatever death they send shall strike me down.
Let fate cut short the deeds that I would do
And
hasten on the end: the past is mine.
The northern nations fell beneath my sword;
My dreaded name compels the foe to flee.
Pompeius yields me place; the people's voice
Gave at my order what the wars denied.
And all the titles which
denote the powers
Known to the Roman state my name shall bear.
Let none know this but thou who hear'st my prayers,