For shorn of these, before your swords he lies
A common soldier. To the civil war
This night shall bring
completion, and shall give
To peoples slain fit offerings, and send
That life the world demands beneath the shades.
Rise then in all your hardihood and smite
This Caesar down, and let the Roman youths
Strike for themselves, and Lagos for its King.
Nor do thou tarry: full of wine and feast
Thou'lt fall upon him in the lists of love;
Then dare the
venture, and the
heavenly gods
Shall grant of Cato's and of Brutus' prayers
To thee fulfilment."
Nor was Achillas slow
To hear the voice that counselled him to crime.
No sounding clarion summoned, as is wont,
His troops to arms; nor
trumpet blare betrayed
Their
nightly march: but rapidly he seized
All needed instruments of blood and war.
Of Latian race the most part of his train,
Yet to
barbarian customs were their minds
By long
forgetfulness of Rome debased:
Else had it shamed to serve the Pharian King;
But now his
vassal and his minion's word
Compel
obedience. Those who serve in camps
Lose faith and love of kin: their pittance earned (21)
Makes just the deed: and for their
sordid pay,
Not for themselves, they
threaten Caesar's life.
Where finds the piteous
destiny of the realm
Rome with herself at peace? The host withdrawn
From dread Thessalia raves on Nilus' banks
As all the race of Rome. What more had dared,
With Magnus welcomed, the Lagean house?
Each hand must render to the gods their due,
Nor son of Rome may cease from civil war;
By Heaven's command our state was rent in twain;
Nor love for husband nor regard for sire
Parted our peoples. 'Twas a slave who stirred
Afresh the
conflict, and Achillas grasped
In turn the sword of Rome: nay more, had won,
Had not the fates
adverse restrained his hand
From Caesar's slaughter.
For the
murderous pair
Ripe for their plot were met; the
spacious hall
Still busied with the feast. So might have flowed
Into the
kingly cups a
stream of gore,
And in mid
banquet fallen Caesar's head.
Yet did they fear lest in the
nightly strife
(The fates permitting) some incautious hand --
So did they trust the sword -- might slay the King.
Thus stayed the deed, for in the minds of slaves
The chance of doing Caesar to the death
Might bear postponement: when the day arose
Then should he suffer; and a night of life
Thus by Pothinus was to Caesar given.
Now from the Casian rock looked forth the Sun
Flooding the land of Egypt with a day
Warm from its earliest dawn, when from the walls
Not
wandering in
disorder are they seen,
But drown in close array, as though to meet
A foe opposing; ready to receive
Or give the battle. Caesar, in the town
Placing no trust, within the palace courts
Lay in
ignoble hiding place, the gates
Close barred: nor all the
kingly rooms possessed,
But in the narrowest
portion of the space
He drew his band together. There in arms
They stood, with dread and fury in their souls.
He feared attack,
indignant at his fear.
Thus will a noble beast in little cage
Imprisoned, fume, and break upon the bars
His teeth in frenzied wrath; nor more would rage
The flames of Vulcan in Sicilian depths
Should Etna's top be closed. He who but now
By Haemus' mount against Pompeius chief,
Italia's leaders and the Senate line,
His cause forbidding hope, looked at the fates
He knew were
hostile, with unfaltering gaze,
Now fears before the crime of hireling slaves,
And in mid palace trembles at the blow:
He whom nor Scythian nor Alaun (22) had dared
To
violate, nor the Moor who aims the dart
Upon his
victim slain, to prove his skill.
The Roman world but now did not suffice
To hold him, nor the realms from furthest Ind
To Tyrian Gades. Now, as puny boy,
Or woman, trembling when a town is sacked,
Within the narrow corners of a house
He seeks for safety; on the
portals closed
His hope of life; and with
uncertain gait
He treads the hails; yet not without the King;
In purpose, Ptolemaeus, that thy life
For his shall give atonement; and to hurl
Thy severed head among the servant throng
Should darts and torches fail. So story tells
The Colchian
princess (23) with sword in hand,
And with her brother's neck bared to the blow,
Waited her sire, avenger of his realm
Despoiled, and of her
flight. In the
imminent risk
Caesar, in hopes of peace, an envoy sent
To the
fiercevassals, from their
absent lord
Bearing a message, thus: "At whose command
Wage ye the war?" But not the laws which bind
All nations upon earth, nor
sacred rights,
Availed to save or
messenger of peace,
Or King's
ambassador; or thee from crime
Such as befitted thee, thou land of Nile
Fruitful in
monstrous deeds: not Juba's realm
Vast though it be, nor Pontus, nor the land
Thessalian, nor the arms of Pharnaces,
Nor yet the tracts which chill Iberus girds,
Nor Libyan coasts such wickedness have dared,
As thou, with all thy luxuries. Closer now
War hemmed them in, and weapons in the courts,
Shaking the innermost recesses, fell.
Yet did no ram, fatal with single stroke,
Assail the
portal, nor machine of war;
Nor flame they called in aid; but blind of plan
They
wander purposeless, in separate bands
Around the
circuit, nor at any spot
With strength combined attempt to
breach the wall.
The fates forbad, and Fortune from their hands
Held fast the palace as a battlement.
Nor failed they to attack from ships of war
The regal
dwelling, where its frontage bold
Made stand apart the waters of the deep:
There, too, was Caesar's all-protecting arm;
For these at point of sword, and those with fire (24)
He forces back, and though besieged he dares
To storm th' assailants: and as lay the ships
Joined rank to rank, bids drop upon their sides
Lamps drenched with reeking tar. Nor slow the fire
To seize the hempen cables and the decks
Oozing with melting pitch; the oarsman's bench
All in one moment, and the topmost yards
Burst into flame: half merged the vessels lay
While swam the foemen, all in arms, the wave;
Nor fell the blaze upon the ships alone,
But seized with writhing tongues the neighbouring homes,
And fanned to fury by the Southern breeze
Tempestuous, it leaped from roof to roof;
Not
otherwise than on its
heavenly track,
Unfed by matter, glides the ball of light,
By air alone aflame.
This pest recalled
Some of the forces to the city's aid
From the besieged halls. Nor Caesar gave
To sleep its season; swifter than all else
To seize the crucial moment of the war.
Quick in the darkest watches of the night
He leaped upon his ships, and Pharos (25) seized,
Gate of the main; an island in the days
Of Proteus seer, now bordering the walls
Of Alexander's city. Thus he gained
A double
vantage, for his foes were pent
Within the narrow entrance, which for him
And for his aids gave
access to the sea.
Nor longer was Pothinus' doom delayed,
Yet not with cross or flame, nor with the wrath
His crime demanded; nor by
savage beasts
Torn, did he suffer; but by Magnus' death,
Alas the shame! he fell; his head by sword
Hacked from his shoulders. Next by frauds prepared
By Ganymede her base
attendant, fled
Arsinoe (26) from the Court to Caesar's foes;
There in the
absence of the King she ruled
As of Lagean blood: there at her hands,
The
savage minion of the
tyrant boy,
Achillas, fell by just avenging sword.
Thus did another
victim to thy shade
Atone, Pompeius; but the gods forbid
That this be all thy vengeance! Not the king
Nor all the stock of Lagos for thy death
Would make fit sacrifice! So Fortune deemed;
And not till
patriot swords shall drink the blood
Of Caesar, Magnus, shalt thou be appeased.
Still, though was slain the author of the strife,
Sank not their rage: with Ganymede for chief
Again they rush to arms; in deeds of fight
Again they
conquer. So might that one day
Have witnessed Caesar's fate; so might its fame
Have lived through ages.
As the Roman Chief,
Crushed on the narrow surface of the mole,
Prepared to throw his troops upon the ships,
Sudden upon him the
surrounding foes
With all their terrors came. In dense array
Their navy lined the shores, while on the rear
The footmen
ceaseless charged. No hope was left,
For
flight was not, nor could the brave man's arm
Achieve or safety or a
glorious death.
Not now were needed for great Caesar's fall,
Caught in the toils of nature, routed host
Or
mighty heaps of slain: his only doubt
To fear or hope for death: while on his brain
Brave Scaeva's image flashed, now
vainly sought,
Who on the wall by Epidamnus' fields
Earned fame
immortal, and with single arm
Drove back Pompeius as he trod the
breach....
ENDNOTES:
(1) The body of Alexander was embalmed, and the mummy placed in