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Text snippets containing the quad

ID	Title	Author	Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication)	STC	Words	Pages
A06411	Lucans Pharsalia containing the ciuill warres betweene Cæsar and Pompey. Written in Latine heroicall verse by M. Annæus Lucanus. Translated into English verse by Sir Arthur Gorges Knight. Whereunto is annexed the life of the authour, collected out of diuers authors.; Pharsalia. English	Lucan, 39-65.; Gorges, Arthur, Sir, 1557?-1625.; Gorges, Carew.	1614 (1614)	STC 16884; ESTC S103371	257,632	472

Hesprus wiih his dauning day Had banisht the nights lamps away When in the Tents through all the rout A secret murmuring burst out Where fate had drawne the world together The wretched people trooping thither To Pompeys tent with furie driuen Would haue the signe of battell giuen The most not like to see next euen And with huge cries the houres they hast Of their neare deaths that drew on fast Such direfull sudden rage them bends Headlong to runne vnto their ends Pompey is slow and coward cal'd And vnto Caesar too much thral'd And that he kingdome did affect And would the world to him subiect Who seeing now that he could draw So many nations to his law Would still his glorious powre maintaine And therefore did all peace disdaine The Kings and Nations of the East Complain'd the warre was turn'd to ieast And so protracted to their wrong Who from their homes were held so long O heauenly powres such is your wills When you designe ought to our ills And all with vs shall go awry The blame on our owne faults must lie To mischiefe headlong run they all For dismall fight they cry and call In Pompeys campe Pharsalias fate Is vow'd to trie this dire debate Then Tullius that patron great Of Roman eloquence must treate In all their names he that of yore In his long robe did Rome restore To setled peace and to the law Brought dreadfull Catiline in awe But then did he the warres detest Onely with him was in request The Forum and the Rostrum seate Long silenced with martiall heate His eloquence no grace doth adde Vnto a cause in it selfe badde ¶ O Pompey for her fauours great At thy hands Fortune doth intreate That thou to her thy trust commend The nobles that thy Campe attend And all these kings thy constant friends That to thy aide their forces lends Do now beseech thee to agree That Caesar may subdued be Shall he so long haue meanes to finde A bloody warre with all mankinde The nations that thy selfe hath wonne And didst so quickly ouerrun VVill Pompeys glory disauow That is so slow in conquest now VVhither is thy braue courage fled Vngratefull dost thou stand in dread That heauen hath thee abandoned Or with the Gods dar'st thou not trust The Senate and thy cause so iust Thy Hoast their ensignes will display And giue the foe a bloudy day Vnto thy glory 't were a taint That thou shouldst vanquish by constraint Since thou by vs appointed art The Chiefetaine and for vs dost Mart. Let it bee lawfull for our Host To warre when we affect it most Why dost thou so by force hold backe The whole worlds Armes frō Caesars wrack The darts do brandle in their hands And all the troopes impatient stands Whilst Ensignes do draw out the bands Hast therefore now thy Armes to take Lest thine owne Trumpets thee forsake The Senate craues to know of thee Whether that they thy Souldiers bee Or whether they do in this Mart As thy compeeres retaine their part Sighing the Cheifetaine sorrow showes Hee found the Gods became his foes And Fate did his entents oppose ¶ If such quoth hee bee your desires And that this time rather requires Huge troopes and many an armed band Then such a leader as will stand Vpon aduantage when hee may I neuer will your fates delay Let all to ruin head-long goe By Fortunes hand at one dire blow And let this day the last light bee That most of vs shall euer see But Rome I thee to witnesse call That Pompey cannot do with all The time to him appointed was Wherein all should to mischiefe passe This war might well haue ben made good Without a blow or losse of bloud Caesar might haue beene captiued Without a battell hazarded And wonted peace recouered What wicked rage ô yee most blinde Makes you to be of this strange minde That since you ciuill armes do beare Is victory to you a feare Except you rauing wound and teare Our foes haue now but little scope And are bereft all marine hope We haue compel'd the hungry bands To eate the greene corne of the lands And they haue often wisht withall That they vpon our swords might fall Rather then this to starue and wither So we and they might fall together That warre is neare brought to his last And al' the difficulty past When to auoyde a greater fright New souldiers shall desire to fight And with the spurre of valours showes And kindled furie couet blowes For feare of future worser harmes The minds of many so much charmes That to preuent what they suspect All present hazards they neglect But truly valiant is that man That with a setled patience can Approaching perils so resist As to defer them at his list Must I leaue such securitie To Fortunes mutabilitie The whole worlds hap must we afford Vnto the hazard of the sword You rather I should hazard fight Then conquer foes by martiall slight Fortune committed to my cares The gouernment of Romes affaires And I deliuer to her charge The same againe with powre more large Let her as well now play her part And guard them safe in blinded Mart. For in this course all praise or blame Pompey for his part doth disclaime O Caesar with the powers diuine Thy prayers more preuaile then mine Fight when you please and fall to Armes But yet how many wicked harmes How great and many peoples wrackes Will this next day bring on our backes How many Kings will shed their blood And how will Enipheus flood Her Chrystall streames pollute and staine With purple gore of Romans slaine But first I wish the hostile lance Of bloudy warre with deaths mischance Might pierce this wretched head of mine If that my fate might bring to fine These ruines and with it divart All mischiefes from my Countries part The conquest if we do obtaine Cannot to Pompey's fame adde gaine If victory for vs do stand By slaughter and by bloudy hand The peoples hearts it will agrise And odiously my name misprise Or if that Pompey loose the game Pompey will be a wretched name All miseries the conquer'd finde But blame and mallice stil's assign'd Vnto the victor as his share That acts the warres last wofull chare So hauing said he did giue way To Armes and Souldiers raging sway As doth a Pilot sore distrest VVith a strong tempest blowne by west Leauing the helme and leauing Art Doth to the storme all rule impart VVhereby the ship doth heaue and set Drawne with the fury of the fret Now in confusion doth this Campe VVith fearefull tumults raue and rampe Their minds with horrid thoughts opprest Vnconstant moods boyle in their breast Many with pallid lookes bewray Of deaths approch the dismall day And in their faces doe relate A count'nance suiting to their fate And that the houre drew on with speed When humane chance should be decreed And in what tearms Romes state should stand Must in this

thou ken thy fortunes scope Fly warres and in the Gods haue hope None now that Armes doe vndertake Will spend their liues for Pompeys sake Whether it be of Affricke soyle The lamentable bloody broyle Or Munda's battaile stain'd with gore Or slaughters on Aegyptian shore Yet after thee there will remaine A great part of Thessalian traine And Pompey will not haue his name So popular with worldly fame As for thy sake like warres to wage But from hence forth in euery age The faction of the warre will be Twixt Caesars state and libertie And though that thou the warres dost flee The Senate to the death will fight To hold their owne and freedomes right ¶ Canst thou in this finde no reliefe That thus repulst thou shunst the griefe To see the slaughtred heapes that lye Looke backe againe and cast thine eye Vpon the riuers crimson staine Clotted with gore of bodies slaine Be-pitty then proud Caesars vaine Thinke what remorse will straine his breast When he shall enter Rome opprest With griefe for her deare people lost Gain'd to Pharsalia at her cost When thou therefore thy selfe shalt see Banisht in forraigne Realmes to bee What euer fortunes thou shalt finde Endure it with a manly minde And whatsoeuer misery Vnder the Pharian tyranny Shall thee befall with patience dure And in the Gods thy hopes assure And as the Fates affoord their grace Beare with the changes of times space The conquest would haue harm'd the more Do not therefore thy hap deplore Forbid the people to lament All teares and lamentations stent The world will Pompey as much good In his low ebbe as in his flood O doe not now with lookes deiected Behold those Kings thou hast subiected Suruey the Citties wonne by thee And kingdomes that thou gau'st in fee. Aegypt and Lybia thou maist trye Chuse out the land where thou wouldst dye ¶ Larissas Citty was the place That first beheld thy noble face After this foyle by Fortunes scorne Yet saw thee not as one forlorne Her Citizens and chiefe estates With all their force passe through their gates To meet thee as thy loyall frends And wayling many presents sends Their houses and their Temples vast They did set open as he past And wish't that they had partners beene With him in all his bloody teene So as a great deale yet remain'd Of that great name he earst retain'd Though lesse now then thy selfe alone Thy power may once againe be showne And Nations with thee led from farre So to restore thy state by warre But oh quoth he what should a man Whom Fates from victory do ban The aid of men or Townes receaue Vnto the Conquerour bequeaue Your faiths and to his fauours cleaue ¶ But Caesar thou dost ouer-stride And march as yet on euery side Vpon the bowels and the breasts As they in heaped slaughters rests Of thine owne Countries wofull fall Thy son-in-law now quits thee all Away the Courser Pompey beares Follow'd with many sighes and teares And on the cruell Destinies The people powre out cursed cries Now Pompey dost thou truly finde The faith that thy deserts did binde For now the fruits thereof they show Prosperity no loue can know ¶ When Caesar saw of Latium gore The fields did flote with ample store He bids them now forbeare their swords And to poore soules he grace affoords For all was subiect to their hands T was vaine to kill those hope-lost bands That for their liues at mercy stands But lest the standing Campe might be A safe retrait to those that flee And to enioy the quiet night VVithout alarmes or new affright He meant to vndertake the venter On Pompeys Campe and it to enter VVhilst fortune now was hot in blood And all in maze and terror stood Not doubting but his men were prest Herein to yeeld vnto his hest Although that they were all growne faint VVith long fight and with heate attaint But souldiers small perswasions need To lead them to receiue their meed Or to prepare them to a pray Yet Caesar thus to them did say Souldiers quoth he your valiant proes Hath wonne full conquest on your foes And for the blood drawne from your vains Rewards and Honors now remaines VVhich to performe I hold my part Yet that which due is to desart I will not tearme a gift to bee Each one shall giue himselfe his fee. Behold the Tents before your eyes Where gold and siluer heaped lies Here is lockt vp in many a Chest The treasure taken from the west The pretious Easterne Implements Doth stuffe and cloy their glorious Tents The Fortunes that are gotten hither Of Pompey and of Kings together Doe but attend to be a pray Vnto the victor haste your way To come before them to the place Whom now you following haue in chase He said no more but their desire Whom greedy gaine had set on fire Did head-long driue them without feare Thorow the swords their way to teare And on their fathers bones to tread Spurning the Captaines that lay dead What Ditch or Rampart could suffise To hold them out whom such a prize And booty of the warre inuites They now wold know to ease their sprights The gaines of all their bloody fights ¶ And here lay lodg'd to maintain mart Many great treasures set a part Heap't vp together in a whoord Spoyles that the whole world did affoord Yet for all this they could not finde Sufficient to content their minde What gold is found in Ibers sands Or Tagus casts vpon her strands Or all those heapes of pretious graines Dig'd out of Arimaspus vaines Is made their spoyle and yet they thought It not enough but deerely bought For now their conquering hopes deuoures The spoyle of the Tarpeian Towers And promise to themselues a day That Rome and all shall be their pray But yet therein they are deceiu'd The Tents are to their spoyle bequeau'd The wicked souldiers and base Slowches Do sleepe on the Patrician Couches The Kings pauillions and their beds Are roomes for slaues to lay their heads Their brothers Cabins some invested Some where their fathers lately rested Their slaughtring bloody members nested And those whom rauing slumbers haunts And frightfull dreames in sleeping daunts Doe tosse in their afflicted sprights The cruell late Pharsalian fights Their bloody facts possesse their eyes The rage of Armes their mindes agrise And without swords about them goes Their hands as they were dealing blowes ¶ A man would thinke the very fields And balefull lands those visions yeelds And that some apparitions strange Of ghosts that putred aire did range And that by night the fearfull shapes Of Stygian sprights their sences rapes This victory with heauy straines Requites the victors worthlesse paines Hissing of Serpents in their dreames And firie flames cast forth huge streames Slaine Citizens to them appeare And each one hath his priuate feare One sees in sleepe an old mans face And other lusty youths in place One doth his brothers

Emathia as forlorne VVouldst humane races hold in scorne As if thou wert that torrid soyle That Phoebus beams doth alwaies broile Or else that frozen ycie land That vnderneath the pole doth stand Vnknowne so wouldst thou lie vnman'd Had this bene but thy first wars blame Not seconded with like defame O Gods if that we may detest A land were wickednesse doth rest Why doth this soyle the world oppresse And so bring mankinde to distresse The bloudy battell fought in Spaine The horrors on Pachinus maine Mutinas and the Lucan fleetes Do wipe away Philippos greetes Finis Libri Septimi Lucans Pharsalia The eighth Booke THE ARGVMENT POmpey repulst and put to flight By secret waies in great affright Himselfe first at Larissa showes And then by seas to Lesbos goes Where all that people him bewailes Thence with his mournfull wife he sailes Vnto Caelicia whither came His sonne and other Lords of name There they consult what land to seeke Accused Aegypt best they like Where he no sooner did arriue But king and Councell did contriue His present death and to that end They thaiterously Achilles send Who in the presence of his wife And of his sonne bereft his life Codrus his seruant with his hands Scrapes him a graue amongst the sands NOw Pompey forward hasting posts Ouer the Herculean coasts Then thorow Tempes woody waies Aemonian forrests he displaies And desart passages assayes His steede though stroken with the spurre Would scarcely forward go or sturre So was he spent and ouer heate With running long and faint with sweate Besides amaze him so did fright That he stood doubtfull in his flight What course to take or where to rest But in and out his way doth wrest The murmuring that the winds doth make Amongst the woods when leaus did shake Causde him for very feare to quake His traine that follow him behind A terror are vnto his minde And those that gallop by his sides Perplexe him also as he rides For though he were from that high place Throwne downe and out of Fortunes grace Yet therewithall he vnderstood That no base prise was worth his blood But mindfull of his former state He knew t was yet at so hie rate That Caesar would giue for head As much as he then valued The price of Caesar to be slaine And would bestow his head to gaine But now he finds no secret place Could serue to hide his honoured face For many that do take his part Now comming to Pharsalias Mart The fame as yet not being blowne That all was lost and ouerthrowne Were much amazed in their mind Pompey in that same place to find And scarcely would beleeue the truth That he himselfe relates with ruth But grieuous was all company To him in this calamity No peoples concurse he desir'd But from the world to liue retir'd In safetie with obscured name But Fortune that vnconstant Dame On him poore man her frowns doth cast To blanch her many fauours past So as the waight of his renowne His happinesse doth more presse downe And with the more offensiue hate His former blisse doth exprobate For now he thinks his honors past Were heaped on him too too fast And doth accurse those Syllan bayes The glory of his youthfull dayes It irkes him now deiected wight To thinke vpon his Nauall fight And those braue ensignes that he wonne In Pontycke kingdome ouerrunne Long life doth manly courage bate And he that in empiring state Hath alwaies liu'd except withall In blisse he close his funerall And doth with speedy death preuent The change that fortune would present He hath but liu'd to see his shame And hath outliu'd his honors name For who would fortunes fauours trie Except he can resolue to die ¶ Now hath he to the shore attain'd Whereas Poeneius streame distain'd With blood of the Pharsalian fields Her Tribute to the Ocean yeelds There fearefully he takes a boate Vnfit in winds and waues to floate Which scarcely safe did him conuey Vpon the riuer to the bay For yet she coasted with her oares Corcyras and Leucades shoares This Cylicke and Lyburnicke Lord In those lands earst so much ador'd Embarks him here with mickle feare Into a little Passenger And with a mind fraught full of cares His course for Lesbos he prepares Where thou Cornelia didst reside And there more heauy dayes hadst tride Then if thou hadst encamped laine With Pompey in Pharsalias plaine Presages great of future ill Her vexed thoughts do fright and fill And in in her sleepings heauinesse Oft trembling fits did her oppresse She sees Thessalia field by night And when that Phoebus spreads his light Vnto the loftie Cliffes she hies And to the shore that vtmost lies Where on the maine she casts her eyes And if she will first of all discouer If any sayles do that way houer And yet to aske she is a dread How Pompey in the warre hath sped ¶ But now behold his ship doth stand Full with the hauen of this land And with all sayles doth hither presse Thogh with what news thou canst not gesse Till at the length greefe to reuiue Thy conquered husband doth arriue The heauie messenger of warres The Harrold of hearts-wounding scarres Why dost thou now lose time to wayle When thou maist weep feare doth preuaile But as the ship drew neare at hand In hast she runs vnto the strand And there she quickly did descrie The cruell blame of Destinie Her Lords discolloured deadly face Whose hoarie haires about it trace Rough and vnkombt and his attire Dasht and besprent with dust and mire Wherewith this poore astonisht wight Was ouercome with deaths darke night That from her eyes depriu'd the light Faint sorrow did her sprites inuest Downe right she sinkes life leaues her brest Her lims were starke her heart grew colde A deadly trance her hope doth holde By this their Anchors being cast Were with their cables mored fast Pompey beholds the vacant sand Where as his faithfull seruants stand Who secretly their griefs do show Amongst themselues with inward woe And mournfull sighs which they bestow Such as well sorted with his fate And therewithall they eleuate In vaine their mistresse from the ground That there halfe dead lay in a sound Whom Pompey colleth in his armes And her lims with embracements warmes ¶ Then as the blood return'd againe And did begin to strength each vaine Her husbands hand she felt withall And to her mind his face did call He wils her not to stoope to fate Nor yet her griefs to aggrauate O why shouldst thou a woman borne Of so great blood like one forlorne Thy noble heart and comfort breake With the first blow of Fortunes freake A meane is offered now to raise Thy glory to all future daies The praise wherein thy sex hath part Is not for letters nor for Mart. Thy honor is thy constancie Vnto thy spouse in miserie Lift vp thy sprites with pious thought