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+This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements,
+metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be
+in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES.
+
+Procedures for determining public domain status are described in
+the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org.
+
+No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in
+jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize
+this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright
+status under the laws that apply to them.
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+Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for
+eBook #62494 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/62494)
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-*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 62494 ***
-
-THE COVER DESIGN IS BY ELIHU VEDDER
-
-
-
-
-UNIFORM WITH THIS VOLUME
-
-
- LAODICE AND DANAË _Play in Verse_
- By _Gordon Bottomley_
-
- IMAGES--OLD AND NEW _Poems_
- By _Richard Aldington_
-
- THE ENGLISH TONGUE AND OTHER POEMS
- By _Lewis Worthington Smith_
-
- FIVE MEN AND POMPEY _Dramatic Portraits_
- By _Stephen Vincent Benét_
-
- HORIZONS _Poems_
- By _Robert Alden Sanborn_
-
- THE TRAGEDY _A Fantasy in Verse_
- By _Gilbert Moyle_
-
-
-
-
- FIVE MEN AND POMPEY
-
- _A Series of Dramatic Portraits_
-
- BY
- STEPHEN VINCENT BENÉT
-
- [Illustration]
-
- BOSTON
- THE FOUR SEAS COMPANY
- 1915
-
-
-
-
- _Copyright, 1915, by_
- THE FOUR SEAS COMPANY
-
- THE FOUR SEAS PRESS
- BOSTON AND NORWOOD
-
-
-
-
-CONTENTS
-
-
- THE LAST BANQUET 9
-
- LUCULLUS DINES-- 17
-
- THE FORLORN CAMPAIGN 23
-
- AD ATTICUM 31
-
- DE BELLO CIVILI 37
-
- AFTER PHARSALIA 45
-
-
-
-
-THE LAST BANQUET
-
-
-
-
-THE LAST BANQUET
-
-[SERTORIUS SPEAKS. B. C. 72]
-
-
- Twelve years! Twelve years of striving! and at last
- My power is--secure? Still Pompey lives
- And has an army and Metellus strives
- To wipe out his defeats. The net is cast:
- Cast, and draws ever tighter: and my men
- Grumble and mutter, near to mutiny.
- Perpenna stirs up treason: like a fen
- Of black and quaking marshes, my own camp
- Boils up all foulness, gapes to swallow me.
- The black death-chariot waits, the coursers stamp--
- Yet I have made a law, have curbed the tribes,
- Built up a senate, founded schools, withstood
- For twelve long years the iron arm of Rome.
- I have not spared my time, my gold, my blood.
- And now all vanishes in plots and gibes--
- I love this warm, brown land; it is my home.
- And yet--to see the Forum once again!
- Ah, Nydia! Nydia! Had you not died
- I could have crossed the Alps, have crushed these men,
- These unclean vultures, tearing at Rome’s side;
- I could have brought back the Republic--then.
- You died. I still fight on, but I am old.
- Pompey is young, and though I beat him now,
- He will be victor, as the end will show.
- Ah, Plancus, enter! Is the night so cold
- That you need shroud yourself in that great cloak?
- You too, Perpenna, Cimon, you who broke
- So bravely through the foe, you fear a draught?
- Be seated, friends!
-
- My comrades, we have laughed
- And feasted for an hour together, yet
- I have not told you why I summoned thus
- My ten most trusted leaders to this feast.
- Now is the time! I shall discharge the debt.
- Glorious tidings come from out the East!
- And Mithridates hurries aid to us--
- Let not that goblet fall I pray thee, friend!--
- Ah! Dog and traitor! So this was your end!
- Guards! Guards!--I think you will not rise again,
- Perpenna, from that blow! Guards! Ho there, men!
- A-a-ah! Thank you, Pompey! No, you will not take
- Me back to grace your triumph: they have done
- Their work too well, your friends. My sands are run.
- And you have burst all barriers left to break
- That shielded the Republic. It is dead.
-
- Not with a pomp of banners,
- Not with a flare of spears,
- Not with mourning or head downcast
- The great Republic dies at last;
- A sword in the heart and the hands bound fast,
- Dead in the wreck of the years!
-
- Pompey, Pompey, chief of pride,
- Hero and lord of Rome!
- You ride to a gallant triumph now,
- Gay as the green and fruitful bough;
- But the bough will be withered and dry enow
- When you ride for the last time home!
-
- Pompey, Pompey, laugh while you may!
- Laugh as Polycrates laughed!
- But ever, when life is most glorious,
- I bid you think of Sertorius,
- Of how he rode forth victorious,
- And how he was slain by craft.
-
- I have been slain by great lords;
- But a slave shall strike you down,
- A slave shall strike you down from behind,
- And your strength shall fail, and your sight go blind,
- And your body a nameless grave shall find,
- You, that strove for a crown!
-
- Pompey, Pompey, turn where you may!
- You shall get but little ease.
- For whether on sea or whether on land,
- One picture shall ever before you stand--
- A man struck down on a barren strand--
- A head hacked off by the seas!
-
- Pompey, Pompey, go where you will,
- Double and turn again!
- One thought shall you know till you lie in your grave;
- A thought not even your soul can brave!--
- The thought of a mean and evil slave,
- And a knife that was forged in Spain!
-
- So the Republic dies! and all my work
- Is vain; the things I built are shattered now,
- My task is done, the task I dared not shirk;
- And I am very tired. Nydia, come!
- Come as you came that day down the green walk,
- The day I rode in triumph back to Rome,
- After the Cimbri had been crushed--and talk,
- Talk as we talked that day beside the pool,
- Shadowed by ilex, where the golden hearts
- Of lilies burned within the water cool,--
- Nydia! But she stays not, she departs!
- The marble seat--you lifted up your face--
- I have fought long now. I am weary. Come!
- Nydia! Nydia! and lead me home!
- Home! How the Forum blazes in the sun!
- The Roman faces and the kindly speech;
- The melon-sellers, proffering to each
- That comes, ripe, green-streaked melons--What! you shun
- An old friend, Balbus? No! It was not I!
- No! by the gods! I never gave consent
- To those red days of massacre!----They cry!
- Oh gods! they cry, cry, they are not yet dead!
- They _will_ not die: they hurl upon my head
- Curses and prayers! I hear them in my tent!
- They are not dead! Oh gods! They are not dead!
- I never gave consent!
-
- Still the time slips
- And Nydia comes not. I am very tired.
- The things are broken to which I aspired,
- And you alone are left. Love! She is here
- Nydia, Nydia....
-
-
-
-
-LUCULLUS DINES--
-
-
-
-
-LUCULLUS DINES--
-
-[59 B. C.]
-
-
- I dine in the Apollo room tonight,
- With Cicero and Pompey! See to it!
-
- Cicero! Pompey! But ten years ago
- Lucullus was the hero, Conqueror
- Of Mithridates, Rescuer of Rome!
- All’s Pompey now; he goes far--and has gone;
- And, with it all, is just the honest, brave,
- Young captain that I saw that hot, raw, day;
- The first day of my shame. Oh gods, gods, gods!
- Must Rome have always victories, victories,
- Incredible conquests till the whole world reels,
- And still thrust traps into my path until
- I fall at last?
- When Pompey came I knew.
- Oh he was kind, quite kind, considerate
- Of the old bitter man there who had failed,
- Recalled without a triumph! He was kind
- In all his splendid, conquering, strength and youth!
- Yet, I had beaten Mithridates. So
- Let the old lion growl through teeth once sharp!
- This sordid squabble of a vulgar crowd
- Of stiff patricians, ranting demagogues,
- Serves well for others. I, I have my trees,
- My cherries, rooted firm in Roman soil,
- Shedding a delicate whiteness on the hills
- When spring comes. A far greater triumph that
- Than all my conquests.
- Yes, they know me well,
- These young men, “That old dragon on the hill,
- Who gives such gorgeous dinners. Gods, his wines!
- Fit for Apollo!”
- Yes, an excellent host,
- Learned in sauces, skilled in oysters, game;
- Within whose heart no spark of ancient fire
- Burns on.... Oh Power! Power! Once to lead
- An army, once again, and see the thick
- Rain of the Parthian arrows and the blaze
- As forty brazen cohorts broke the foe!
- The thin lines buckle, the black masses fly!
- _Imperator Romanus!_
- No, Lucullus,
- But the good host who--plants his cherry-trees!
-
- Love? I have loved once, once.... That awful day
- We stormed in through the gates of Amisus....
- The loot-mad soldiers, howling, smote the town
- Down in a mud of blood and dirt and wine,
- Bodies and gold and priceless tapestries.
- Half-mad I rushed to stop them, beat and struck;
- I think they would have murdered me at once,
- But that one drunkard yelled “The General!
- Lower your swords, lads! Sir, we won this town!
- You take your pleasures and let us take ours!”
- I reeled into the blackness of an arch,
- And saw before me, white-robed, laurel-crowned,
- Just such a maiden as might once have danced
- Along the friezes of the Parthenon;
- A face like that on an old silver coin,
- Demetrius sent me, clear-cut, beautiful
- With all the burning beauty of the Greek.
- Pure and serene her grey eyes gazed in mine....
- We spoke few words; what need to speak at all
- When just our eyes told all we had to tell,
- There in the soft, cool blackness, splashed with light
- From the red pools of burning wine without?
-
- Few words. They chime like little silver bells
- Within my heart now, or like trumpet blasts
- Bear up my soul a little towards the gods.
-
- We had three years. She died before my fall.
-
- I thought of love as a crooked knife,
- As a soft and passionate lord;
- Born when the kings’ beards dipped in wine
- And the gold cups clashed on the board.
- But my love came like a blast of cold,
- A straight, clean, sword.
-
- I thought of love as a secret thing,
- For an hour of incensed ease,
- When breast and breast together cling,
- Under sweet-scented trees.
- My love is all good-comradeship,
- More great than these.
-
- I thought of love as a toy for a day,
- Soon to be over-passed;
- Light and frail as a hollow shell,
- That into the brook is cast.
- My love holds while the earth endures,
- And the suns stand fast.
-
- I thought of love as mixed with earth,
- One with the bloom of the sods.
- My love is air and wine and fire,
- Breaker of metes and rods,
- A slender javelin tipped with light,
- Hurled at the gods.
-
- Life lies before me like a platter of coins.
- “Here are the new ones! Mark the choice design!”
- All cry: for me the others fade and dim,
- And one alone shines clear, an old Greek coin
- Demetrius sent me ... and that lovely face....
-
- Pompey would say that I am growing old,
- And Cicero would turn a phrase with me
- In his next great oration, as a type
- Of the old fool who mumbles of days past.
-
- Meanwhile I have my orchards--and my feasts.
- Those turbot now; the sauce is very good,
- A peacock’s breast is good, too, at this time,
- With other things, as----old Falernian,
- Tarentine oysters, and sweet wines from Thrace....
-
- Tarentine oysters and sweet wines from Thrace.
-
-
-
-
-THE FORLORN CAMPAIGN
-
-
-
-
-THE FORLORN CAMPAIGN
-
-[CRASSUS IN PARTHIA. B. C. 53]
-
-
- Go then, Valerius. Let the legions know,
- That I will answer this new embassy
- Within the hour.... They will mutiny,
- If I refuse these terms.... What shall I do?
- _What shall I do?_ The trap is plain enough
- To me; but they, they only see the rough,
- Long road and the red, ever-circling cloud
- Of horsemen, raining arrows on them there.
- Gods! And the mountains are so near, so near!
- Scarce three days march ... that we shall never make.
-
- I boasted once. The gods like not the proud.
- And I shall die in this red waste of sand,
- Though my heart tremble and my stiff limbs shake.
- A thousand slaves bowed down at my command;
- I lived in ivory palaces of delight;
- I ruled an empire ... here is all my might;
- An old and wearied man in a bare tent,
- Whence, presently, I shall go out to die.
-
- How they will rage at Rome! Each will outvie
- The next in fury: none will dare lament.
- Caesar will listen with a little smile,
- A smile like two blue ice-cliffs as they part,
- Slow-rising from the deep caves of his heart.
- Pompey will bow his great gold head awhile,
- And say, “He died a Roman. It is well.”
- Perhaps be sad, a little. For the rest,
- That yelping pack of nobles, they will howl
- How, “Crassus was a madman at the best,
- And in this last attempt, a blind old owl,
- A drink-crazed miser with a wooden sword.
- He blundered here and here! His whole campaign
- Was one great blunder!” So with one accord,
- They howl.
- To praise is hard, easy to damn.
- I failed in this. Some other will succeed.
-
- Yet they are right, in part. That day, far back,
- When by the borderline I checked my steed....
- Our spies had said the Parthian army lay
- Encamped near by and ready for the fray.
- We found no army; nothing but a track,
- Thousands of footprints stamped in the red sand,
- Where a great host had passed. A sudden fear
- Seized on the legions and on every hand
- The men shrank back.... No foe stood anywhere,
- Nothing but scarlet sand and brassy sky,
- And men aghast at signs traced on the ground,
- A ring of white, scared faces, without sound.
-
- Then afterwards, there came that burning march
- Under a sky of flame, continually.
- Our very armor seemed to shrink and parch
- Beneath that sun; our tongues grew swelled and black;
- And ever circling, circling, front and back,
- The Parthians galloped in a cloud of dust.
- They would not turn and fight but slew us thus.
- Their bitter arrows came like hail on us.
- Our strongest dropped and died without a blow.
- Then, beyond Carrhæ, trusting in our woe,
- They turned at last and stood to wait our thrust.
- But two things I remember of that fight.
- How Publius went out--the burning light
- Smote on his armor, turning it to gold,
- Save where, a sunset cloud, his red cloak rolled;
- And in his face was joy and keen delight,
- Youth and a boy’s high heart and great resolves....
- A golden knight he stood, a golden knight....
- He rides away, the crimson cloud dissolves....
-
- One other picture burns within my brain,
- Like white-hot sand; and will burn now until
- I go into the trap tonight.... Again
- The dust cloud rose, and from a little hill
- I saw the sheen of spearheads at its rim,
- And near the rim a spot of black that grew,
- Grew, grew, till earth and sky alike were dim;
- For there was nought but it in earth and sky....
- Nought but a black, dead, face ... a face I knew....
- The lips were bloody ... down upon the pike
- Dripped long slow drops like tears.... I hear them now,
- Gathering, hanging.... Gods! they strike and strike!...
- Dripping forever on my naked heart....
- Great tears of blood.... Once, very long ago,
- I had a son.... How glad he seemed to start
- On that attack!... No ... no ... I shall go mad!
- I must not think how glad he was!... how glad....
-
- We fell back towards the mountains. Cassius took
- Another way. He may be slain or safe,
- I know not; for myself, my legious chafe
- And mutiny, I die here. But as I look
- So close to death, I see that what I strove
- To do will yet be done and Rome shall rule
- Forever o’er the bloody road I clove.
- I break ... but she will find another tool.
-
- Ere the first sword was sharpened and the first trumpet blown
- Rome looked upon the new-made lands and marked them for her own!
- Ere the first ship was timbered and the first rudder hung
- Rome held the oceans in her hands, splendid and stern and young!
-
- The wild tribes bend before her, the kings are overthrown,
- The purple empires of the East before her feet fall down.
- From strange barbaric countries her captains bring her spoil,
- Treasures of gems and ivory, spices and wines and oil.
-
- Wheat grows for her in Egypt; for her the Greek scribes write,
- For her the diver dares the shark, the fowler scales the height,
- To feed her great arenas the bold beast-tamer quakes
- Among the tawny lions or the hissing pits of snakes.
-
- Her legions march in Asia, they tramp through Farthest Gaul,
- In Greece their horns blow up the dawn, in Spain they stand a wall.
- And still upon her Seven Hills Rome rules the seas and tides,
- The earth and all that in it is, while that stern strength abides.
-
- Hail for the last time, Mother! Your sons stand here at bay.
- Still you have sons for conquest. We fall the Roman way!
- Our cheers still ringing, our short swords drawn,
- We die here singing, but Rome, Rome goes on!
-
- Ah! Yes, Valerius, I will answer them.
-
- Comrades! I know these terms are but a trap:
- Yet I would rather die by Parthian swords
- Than Roman.
- After I am dead push on,
- Straight to the mountains; once the heights are won,
- You can defy at last these swarming hordes.
- Break camp at once to guard against mishap.
- Farewell! Valerius is your general now....
-
- Up there, you say, upon that hillock’s brow
- They wait?... Yes, I can see the glint of steel....
-
-
-
-
-AD ATTICUM
-
-
-
-
-AD ATTICUM
-
-[CICERO. 48 B. C.]
-
-
- How hot it is! Faint waves of heat steam up
- From the burnt sand without, like threads of glass,
- Blurring the vision. In the dark, cool rooms
- Within, all are asleep, and not a sound
- Breaks the tense stillness.... Why should I not sleep?
- This letter here, to Atticus, can wait....
- No! I had better write it now, this court
- Is cool enough, the plashing fountain pleasant,
- Stylus and tablets on the table there....
- Let me begin!... Where did I buy this style?
- Oh yes, at Patras, where we had to leave
- Poor Tiro sick--well, he is better now--
- And, Jupiter be thanked! I have escaped
- Safely from that accursed province! Gods!
- Now, even now, the names ring in my brain,
- The petty lawsuits which I must adjudge,
- The protests from the people, stricken down
- Under a shameful load of usury,
- Oppressed by every Roman thief that crept
- Into some petty office. Gods, those trials!
- They made me old before my time. That case
- Between Valerius and Volusius!
- And Brutus, the immaculate, with his interest
- Of forty-eight per cent!
- What shall I say
- To Atticus? “Caesar and I are friends.”
- Or, “Next week I shall sail from Formia
- And seek out Pompey.”
- There they stand, gouged plain
- On the smooth wax. I rub them both out--so!
-
- Caesar, which shall I write? I was your friend.
- Pompey has helped me always. Over all
- Stands Rome. This war I hate as I hate Hell,
- And yet must take one side.... You made the war,
- Caesar ... and the Republic perishes,
- If you are victor.... That one fact ends all.
- Rome will be better ruled? There’s something more
- Than better rule, something for which men die.
- May I have grace to die so at the end,
- Grace to pursue my vision to the last,
- Though all my body is one sweat of blood;
- Grace to reach up and touch her garment’s hem
- And see her smile down in that last, black place
- Where the swords fall. I shall be happy then.
- All heaven and earth will be repaid to me,
- In that one glance, before the swords sweep down.
-
- Life is a dream and a rapture, life is a voice and a breath,
- A gust of wind and a darkness, puffed in the face of Death,
- Life is a treacherous river, a house that sinks in the sand,
- A gift that poisons the giver, a ring that withers the hand.
-
- Yet, when a man is mighty, that dream is more than the truth,
- That wailing wind in the darkness more bright than the fires of youth,
- The ring gives wisdom and power, the house stands up like a rock,
- The river roars from the mountains, and his foemen reel at its shock.
-
- These are our mighty fellows, we are akin to these,
- The men who burn on the deserts, who drown in the pathless seas,
- Not for gold or for power or gems some king has thieved,
- But simply to follow a vision, to see a dream achieved!
-
- So, though we stand beleaguered, though the foe comes on like the sea,
- Though slaves fall down as he passes, and helot bend at his knee,
- Though there is no escaping, though the last hope is gone,
- Here in the sight of all men we buckle our armor on!
-
- Whatever chances, Tullia is safe;
- I only risk myself ... and so, at last,
- I shall begin my letter ... yet I wonder
- If, after this, I shall see Formia
- Ever again.... No need to think of that!
- Tullia will be safe ... and Atticus;
- But, for the rest--I have lost many friends
- Already.... Bah! Come, let me get to work!...
- Tullia will be safe.... Hail, Atticus!
-
-
-
-
-DE BELLO CIVILI
-
-
-
-
-DE BELLO CIVILI
-
-[CAESAR. 49 B. C.]
-
-
- More letters? Lay them down here.
- Antony,
- Curio, Cicero--even Atticus--
- Well, what does Antony say, “Strike quick and hard!
- March your picked Gauls on Rome!” H’m? “All the city
- Is gone stark mad against you.” Oh, of course!
- “At the next meeting of the Senate”? Ah!
- “I will suggest both you and Pompey lay
- Aside your several commands.” All hangs
- On that one offer--If they should refuse,
- I strike at last!...
- Well, Curio, “Dare you not
- Give up the provinces? All would be well.
- It is the one thing Pompey now demands--
- Impossible of course--” Gods, Curio!
- “Give up the provinces”! For twenty years
- I have toiled up this hill--and now at last
- Stand here, proconsul of a barren land,
- A swarming, seething pot of plots and lies,
- Where every day brings forth a fresh revolt.
- Others had rich lands in the peaceful East,
- They fought with armies, I a people. Now,
- After nine years these Gauls are not subdued.
- I stand alone against a forest fire ...
- But even this they will not suffer, no,
- Not even that I waste my life in vain
- In these vast woods. They call me to return,
- “A private citizen as Pompey did.”
- No, to return disgraced, shut out forever
- From all great deeds....
- What say you, Cicero?
- “I know you do not want a civil war.”
- H’m. “Rome mistaken--.” H’m. “Why should you care
- For all these dogs that bark at great men’s heels?
- You say your foes are wrong--It may be so,
- At least they act with one thought in their minds,
- That you wish civil war for your own ends.
- Why not disprove them, strike them dumb, resign
- Your provinces!” and let them cut my throat!
- “Return to Rome a citizen. That one act
- Would make you just--immortal, and they, they,
- Would shrink back to their holes, never again
- To dare the splendor of the day and truth.
- Pompey is not against you. Him I know.
- And he would be as generous a friend
- As you could wish--resign his legions too--”
- Ah, Cicero!--What’s this, here at the end?
- “Remember the Republic! Caesar, Caesar!
- Gaze not in that Medusa’s face. Your soul
- Stands here at stake, you hold the fate of Rome
- In your two hands. Gaze not in that dread face!”
-
- Another letter! What ... from Calinus ...
- How our lives part ... and men part.... Why the last
- Time that I saw him was ... how long ago ...
- Ten ... twenty years ... on the white walls of Rhodes
- We talked that evening on the flat, wide roof
- Of the old merchant’s house where he was lodged.
- I was to leave tomorrow, and we lay
- Under the blazing stars. A brown slave girl
- Plucked at a lute whose drowsy murmur died
- Throbbingly into sweetness.... We were young
- And all our gorgeous dreams marched forth in state
- Past the great purple bales of Syrian rugs,
- Over the thin brown frails of dates, until
- The skies were full of color, great broad bands ...
- Crimson like pigeon’s blood, blue like the sea,
- Yellow like old, old ivory.... The stars waned.
- Next day we parted. Friend, friend of my youth,
- What have you now to say? Today I make
- The last decision, take one course of two,
- Be saved or lost ... friend ... friend ... friend of my youth....
-
- “Caesar, the swords are ready,
- The swords you have tempered long,
- War and peace are held in your hand,
- You stand at length where you longed to stand;
- By civil war you would heal a land,
- And by wrong you would better a wrong.
-
- Power and Strength and Empire,
- These are full mighty words.
- One thing, men’s Freedom, is higher than all.
- And better a hut though it totter and fall,
- A broken temple, a ruined wall,
- Than a land subdued by your swords!
-
- We have walked for a time together.
- The roads fork and we part.
- I follow my Lady of beauty and grace,
- Drunk with the light of her glorious face,
- And you, you go to your own place:
- And a poison breeds in your heart.
-
- I go with the Republic.
- The Empire stands by your side.
- You love her now. In a time not far
- You will look in your heart where your dead hopes are,
- And curse her for a lamia,
- The serpent you called bride.
-
- We part. Our ways are far henceforth.
- Henceforth our speech is with spears,
- I curse you not. Strive on for your prize
- Till the last thick darkness covers your eyes
- And the voice of the dead Republic cries
- Forever in your ears.
-
- Follow your foe o’er land and sea,
- River and bush and stone!
- When the end has come to the weary race
- And the slain man lies in his fated place,
- You shall draw the veil from the white dead face,
- And shriek, knowing your own!”
-
- Calinus ... Calinus ... To be saved or lost....
- What! Curio and Antony are without?
- Curio! Antony! Welcome!... What ... you say
- They drove you from the Senate?... I must make
- Decision now....
- Comrades! The die is cast!
- We march tomorrow on Ariminum!
-
-
-
-
-AFTER PHARSALIA
-
-
-
-
-AFTER PHARSALIA
-
-[POMPEY. 48 B. C.]
-
-
- So it is over; you have won at last,
- And our long struggle ends and with it Rome,
- The Rome that was the glory of the past,
- Whose stripped fleets ruled the seas, shaking the foam
- From their proud prows. They brought a freedom then.
- Freedom and the Republic. Once. No more.
-
- Well, it was fated, my most trusted men
- Failed me at need; as your chiefs will fail you,
- O Caesar! You I neither fear nor hate.
- We strove not with each other but with fate.
- Your followers will ruin what you do;
- Since you are honest, and will strive to make
- New laws and found an Empire, which, at least,
- Gives Justice equally to all. The stake
- Is high. They have sat long now at their feast,
- With Rome their pig-trough. They will conquer you;
- A hundred dwarfs, pulling a giant down.
- The problem is too great, the time not ripe
- For its solution.
- We have fought, we two!
- For the Republic I, you for your crown,
- Each one of his own cause the very type.
- Though both of us have failed, your cause yet rules,
- Your Empire.
- Any fool can govern fools.
- To make fools rule themselves and do it well,
- That is the task. If you could rule forever,
- Caesar ... but little men will seize your work,
- Your great machine. There’s where the paths dissever!
- And Rome roars blindly down amid the murk
- To swift destruction....
- Still one chance remains
- Where my disbanded legions fill the plains
- Of Egypt. A bare chance. If that fails too,
- Why, “Here lies Cnæus Pompey, called the Great,
- He fought for the Republic, loved his wife,
- And climbed the ladder of swords that men call Life.”
-
- Stretching straight from the viewless Pit,
- To the skies that are shamed because of it,
- Lit with a blue and hungry fire,
- That blasts like the breath of fulfilled Desire,
- Glory and Shame in its secret hoards,
- It stands supreme, the Ladder of Swords!
-
- _You must climb it?_ Aye, with all men born!
- _When?_ When you reel from the common scorn,
- When utter Defeat has gripped you fast,
- And your life goes down in the dark at last;
- When the things you builded dissolve like mist,
- And Love has broken his faith and tryst,
- And your body strains at the torturers’ cords,
- You have come at last to the Ladder of Swords!
-
- _Will you find a friend?_ One friend alone,
- Flesh of your flesh and bone of your bone,
- The last strange Courage that mocks Despair,
- That hunts the wolf with the wounded hare,
- That throws your life in the jaws of death
- To snatch it back in a single breath.
- Blinded no longer by pomp and words,
- You shall go up stark to the Ladder of Swords!
-
- Though your torn feet slip on the bloody steel,
- Though your body faint and your senses reel,
- Dizzied with agony, blind and numb,
- You shall crawl the rungs till the end is come;
- Though the sun flare out and the heavens crack,
- Nor god nor devil can turn you back!
- This is the prize that Defeat accords!
- Courage! Courage! The Ladder of Swords!
-
- Yes, by the gods! Caesar, the day is yours,
- You rule the world--while you debauch the State.
- Yet, somewhere, beyond all, there still endures,
- That pure Republic: and its white walls shine,
- Proudly, a dream no conquests can dispel.
- Your hosts toil uselessly; no force can take
- Those walls. Your legionaries break and break,
- In vain. Ever, before each bleeding line,
- It rises still, the Vision Invincible!
-
-
-
-
-TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES:
-
-
- Italicized text is surrounded by underscores: _italics_.
-
- Obvious typographical errors have been corrected.
-
-*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 62494 ***
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- The Project Gutenberg eBook of Five Men and Pompey, by Stephen Vincent Benét.
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-<div>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 62494 ***</div>
-
-<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/cover.jpg" alt="" /></div>
-<hr class="chap" />
-
-<p class="center"><span class="large"><b>THE COVER DESIGN IS BY ELIHU VEDDER</b></span></p>
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-<hr class="chap" />
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-<h2 class="nobreak">UNIFORM WITH THIS VOLUME</h2></div>
-
-<hr class="tiny" />
-
-<table border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="2" summary="table">
-
-
-<tr><td><span class="smcap">Laodice and Danaë</span></td><td class="tdr"> <i>Play in Verse</i></td></tr>
-<tr><td colspan='2' class="tdl">By <i>Gordon Bottomley</i></td></tr>
-
-<tr><td><span class="smcap">Images&mdash;Old and New</span></td><td class="tdr"> <i>Poems</i></td></tr>
-<tr><td colspan='2' class="tdl">By <i>Richard Aldington</i></td></tr>
-
-<tr><td colspan='2'><span class="smcap">The English Tongue and Other Poems</span></td></tr>
-<tr><td colspan='2' class="tdl">By <i>Lewis Worthington Smith</i></td></tr>
-
-<tr><td><span class="smcap">Five Men and Pompey</span></td><td class="tdr"> <i>Dramatic Portraits</i></td></tr>
-<tr><td colspan='2' class="tdl">By <i>Stephen Vincent Benét</i></td></tr>
-
-<tr><td><span class="smcap">Horizons</span></td><td class="tdr"> <i>Poems</i></td></tr>
-<tr><td colspan='2' class="tdl">By <i>Robert Alden Sanborn</i></td></tr>
-
-<tr><td><span class="smcap">The Tragedy</span></td><td class="tdr"> <i>A Fantasy in Verse</i></td></tr>
-<tr><td colspan='2' class="tdl">By <i>Gilbert Moyle</i></td></tr>
-</table>
-
-<hr class="chap" />
-
-<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_title.jpg" alt="" /></div>
-
-<hr class="tb" />
-
-<div class="titlepage">
-
-
-<h1>FIVE MEN AND POMPEY</h1>
-
-<p><span class="xlarge"><i>A Series of Dramatic Portraits</i></span></p>
-
-<p>BY<br />
-<span class="large">STEPHEN VINCENT BENÉT</span></p>
-
-<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_titlelogo.jpg" alt="" /></div>
-
-<p><span class="smcap">Boston<br />
-The Four Seas Company</span><br />
-1915</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<hr class="chap" />
-
-
-<p class="center">
-<i>Copyright, 1915, by</i><br />
-THE FOUR SEAS COMPANY<br />
-<br />
-THE FOUR SEAS PRESS<br />
-BOSTON AND NORWOOD</p>
-
-<hr class="chap" />
-
-
-
-
-<div class="chapter">
-
-<h2 class="nobreak">CONTENTS</h2></div>
-
-
-
-
-<table border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="2" summary="table">
-
-<tr><td><span class="smcap">The Last Banquet</span></td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_9"> 9</a></td></tr>
-
-<tr><td><span class="smcap">Lucullus Dines</span>&mdash; </td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_17"> 17</a></td></tr>
-
-<tr><td><span class="smcap">The Forlorn Campaign &nbsp; &nbsp;</span> </td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_23"> 23</a></td></tr>
-
-<tr><td><span class="smcap">Ad Atticum</span> </td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_31"> 31</a></td></tr>
-
-<tr><td><span class="smcap">De Bello Civili</span> </td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_37"> 37</a></td></tr>
-
-<tr><td><span class="smcap">After Pharsalia</span> </td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_45"> 45</a></td></tr>
-</table>
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-<hr class="chap" />
-
-
-
-<div class="chapter">
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[7]</a></span>
-<h2 class="nobreak">THE LAST BANQUET</h2></div>
-
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[8]</a></span></p>
-<hr class="chap" />
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[9]</a></span></p>
-
-
-<p class="ph1">THE LAST BANQUET</p>
-
-<p class="center">[<small>SERTORIUS SPEAKS. B. C.</small> 72]</p>
-
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Twelve years! Twelve years of striving! and at last</div>
-<div class="verse">My power is&mdash;secure? Still Pompey lives</div>
-<div class="verse">And has an army and Metellus strives</div>
-<div class="verse">To wipe out his defeats. The net is cast:</div>
-<div class="verse">Cast, and draws ever tighter: and my men</div>
-<div class="verse">Grumble and mutter, near to mutiny.</div>
-<div class="verse">Perpenna stirs up treason: like a fen</div>
-<div class="verse">Of black and quaking marshes, my own camp</div>
-<div class="verse">Boils up all foulness, gapes to swallow me.</div>
-<div class="verse">The black death-chariot waits, the coursers stamp&mdash;</div>
-<div class="verse">Yet I have made a law, have curbed the tribes,</div>
-<div class="verse">Built up a senate, founded schools, withstood</div>
-<div class="verse">For twelve long years the iron arm of Rome.</div>
-<div class="verse">I have not spared my time, my gold, my blood.</div>
-<div class="verse">And now all vanishes in plots and gibes&mdash;</div>
-<div class="verse">I love this warm, brown land; it is my home.</div>
-<div class="verse">And yet&mdash;to see the Forum once again!</div>
-<div class="verse">Ah, Nydia! Nydia! Had you not died</div>
-<div class="verse">I could have crossed the Alps, have crushed these men,</div>
-<div class="verse">These unclean vultures, tearing at Rome&#8217;s side;</div>
-<div class="verse">I could have brought back the Republic&mdash;then.</div>
-<div class="verse">You died. I still fight on, but I am old.</div>
-<div class="verse">Pompey is young, and though I beat him now,</div>
-<div class="verse">He will be victor, as the end will show.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[10]</a></span>
-<div class="verse">Ah, Plancus, enter! Is the night so cold</div>
-<div class="verse">That you need shroud yourself in that great cloak?</div>
-<div class="verse">You too, Perpenna, Cimon, you who broke</div>
-<div class="verse">So bravely through the foe, you fear a draught?</div>
-<div class="verse">Be seated, friends!</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="indent9">My comrades, we have laughed</div>
-<div class="verse">And feasted for an hour together, yet</div>
-<div class="verse">I have not told you why I summoned thus</div>
-<div class="verse">My ten most trusted leaders to this feast.</div>
-<div class="verse">Now is the time! I shall discharge the debt.</div>
-<div class="verse">Glorious tidings come from out the East!</div>
-<div class="verse">And Mithridates hurries aid to us&mdash;</div>
-<div class="verse">Let not that goblet fall I pray thee, friend!&mdash;</div>
-<div class="verse">Ah! Dog and traitor! So this was your end!</div>
-<div class="verse">Guards! Guards!&mdash;I think you will not rise again,</div>
-<div class="verse">Perpenna, from that blow! Guards! Ho there, men!</div>
-<div class="verse">A-a-ah! Thank you, Pompey! No, you will not take</div>
-<div class="verse">Me back to grace your triumph: they have done</div>
-<div class="verse">Their work too well, your friends. My sands are run.</div>
-<div class="verse">And you have burst all barriers left to break</div>
-<div class="verse">That shielded the Republic. It is dead.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Not with a pomp of banners,</div>
-<div class="verse">Not with a flare of spears,</div>
-<div class="verse">Not with mourning or head downcast</div>
-<div class="verse">The great Republic dies at last;</div>
-<div class="verse">A sword in the heart and the hands bound fast,</div>
-<div class="verse">Dead in the wreck of the years!</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[11]</a></span>
-<div class="verse">Pompey, Pompey, chief of pride,</div>
-<div class="verse">Hero and lord of Rome!</div>
-<div class="verse">You ride to a gallant triumph now,</div>
-<div class="verse">Gay as the green and fruitful bough;</div>
-<div class="verse">But the bough will be withered and dry enow</div>
-<div class="verse">When you ride for the last time home!</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Pompey, Pompey, laugh while you may!</div>
-<div class="verse">Laugh as Polycrates laughed!</div>
-<div class="verse">But ever, when life is most glorious,</div>
-<div class="verse">I bid you think of Sertorius,</div>
-<div class="verse">Of how he rode forth victorious,</div>
-<div class="verse">And how he was slain by craft.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">I have been slain by great lords;</div>
-<div class="verse">But a slave shall strike you down,</div>
-<div class="verse">A slave shall strike you down from behind,</div>
-<div class="verse">And your strength shall fail, and your sight go blind,</div>
-<div class="verse">And your body a nameless grave shall find,</div>
-<div class="verse">You, that strove for a crown!</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Pompey, Pompey, turn where you may!</div>
-<div class="verse">You shall get but little ease.</div>
-<div class="verse">For whether on sea or whether on land,</div>
-<div class="verse">One picture shall ever before you stand&mdash;</div>
-<div class="verse">A man struck down on a barren strand&mdash;</div>
-<div class="verse">A head hacked off by the seas!</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Pompey, Pompey, go where you will,</div>
-<div class="verse">Double and turn again!</div>
-<div class="verse">One thought shall you know till you lie in your grave;</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[12]</a></span>
-<div class="verse">A thought not even your soul can brave!&mdash;</div>
-<div class="verse">The thought of a mean and evil slave,</div>
-<div class="verse">And a knife that was forged in Spain!</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">So the Republic dies! and all my work</div>
-<div class="verse">Is vain; the things I built are shattered now,</div>
-<div class="verse">My task is done, the task I dared not shirk;</div>
-<div class="verse">And I am very tired. Nydia, come!</div>
-<div class="verse">Come as you came that day down the green walk,</div>
-<div class="verse">The day I rode in triumph back to Rome,</div>
-<div class="verse">After the Cimbri had been crushed&mdash;and talk,</div>
-<div class="verse">Talk as we talked that day beside the pool,</div>
-<div class="verse">Shadowed by ilex, where the golden hearts</div>
-<div class="verse">Of lilies burned within the water cool,&mdash;</div>
-<div class="verse">Nydia! But she stays not, she departs!</div>
-<div class="verse">The marble seat&mdash;you lifted up your face&mdash;</div>
-<div class="verse">I have fought long now. I am weary. Come!</div>
-<div class="verse">Nydia! Nydia! and lead me home!</div>
-<div class="verse">Home! How the Forum blazes in the sun!</div>
-<div class="verse">The Roman faces and the kindly speech;</div>
-<div class="verse">The melon-sellers, proffering to each</div>
-<div class="verse">That comes, ripe, green-streaked melons&mdash;What! you shun</div>
-<div class="verse">An old friend, Balbus? No! It was not I!</div>
-<div class="verse">No! by the gods! I never gave consent</div>
-<div class="verse">To those red days of massacre!&mdash;&mdash;They cry!</div>
-<div class="verse">Oh gods! they cry, cry, they are not yet dead!</div>
-<div class="verse">They <i>will</i> not die: they hurl upon my head</div>
-<div class="verse">Curses and prayers! I hear them in my tent!</div>
-<div class="verse">They are not dead! Oh gods! They are not dead!</div>
-<div class="verse">I never gave consent!</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[13]</a></span>
-<div class="indent12">Still the time slips</div>
-<div class="verse">And Nydia comes not. I am very tired.</div>
-<div class="verse">The things are broken to which I aspired,</div>
-<div class="verse">And you alone are left. Love! She is here</div>
-<div class="verse">Nydia, Nydia....</div>
-</div></div></div>
-
-
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[14]</a></span></p>
-<hr class="chap" />
-
-
-
-<div class="chapter">
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[15]</a></span>
-<h2 class="nobreak">LUCULLUS DINES&mdash;</h2></div>
-
-
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[16]</a></span></p>
-<hr class="chap" />
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[17]</a></span></p>
-
-
-
-
-
-<p class="ph1">LUCULLUS DINES&mdash;</p>
-
-<p class="center">[59 <small>B. C.</small>]</p>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">I dine in the Apollo room tonight,</div>
-<div class="verse">With Cicero and Pompey! See to it!</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Cicero! Pompey! But ten years ago</div>
-<div class="verse">Lucullus was the hero, Conqueror</div>
-<div class="verse">Of Mithridates, Rescuer of Rome!</div>
-<div class="verse">All&#8217;s Pompey now; he goes far&mdash;and has gone;</div>
-<div class="verse">And, with it all, is just the honest, brave,</div>
-<div class="verse">Young captain that I saw that hot, raw, day;</div>
-<div class="verse">The first day of my shame. Oh gods, gods, gods!</div>
-<div class="verse">Must Rome have always victories, victories,</div>
-<div class="verse">Incredible conquests till the whole world reels,</div>
-<div class="verse">And still thrust traps into my path until</div>
-<div class="verse">I fall at last?</div>
-<div class="indent8">When Pompey came I knew.</div>
-<div class="verse">Oh he was kind, quite kind, considerate</div>
-<div class="verse">Of the old bitter man there who had failed,</div>
-<div class="verse">Recalled without a triumph! He was kind</div>
-<div class="verse">In all his splendid, conquering, strength and youth!</div>
-<div class="verse">Yet, I had beaten Mithridates. So</div>
-<div class="verse">Let the old lion growl through teeth once sharp!</div>
-<div class="verse">This sordid squabble of a vulgar crowd</div>
-<div class="verse">Of stiff patricians, ranting demagogues,</div>
-<div class="verse">Serves well for others. I, I have my trees,</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[18]</a></span>
-<div class="verse">My cherries, rooted firm in Roman soil,</div>
-<div class="verse">Shedding a delicate whiteness on the hills</div>
-<div class="verse">When spring comes. A far greater triumph that</div>
-<div class="verse">Than all my conquests.</div>
-<div class="indent12">Yes, they know me well,</div>
-<div class="verse">These young men, &#8220;That old dragon on the hill,</div>
-<div class="verse">Who gives such gorgeous dinners. Gods, his wines!</div>
-<div class="verse">Fit for Apollo!&#8221;</div>
-<div class="indent8">Yes, an excellent host,</div>
-<div class="verse">Learned in sauces, skilled in oysters, game;</div>
-<div class="verse">Within whose heart no spark of ancient fire</div>
-<div class="verse">Burns on.... Oh Power! Power! Once to lead</div>
-<div class="verse">An army, once again, and see the thick</div>
-<div class="verse">Rain of the Parthian arrows and the blaze</div>
-<div class="verse">As forty brazen cohorts broke the foe!</div>
-<div class="verse">The thin lines buckle, the black masses fly!</div>
-<div class="verse"><i>Imperator Romanus!</i></div>
-<div class="indent11">No, Lucullus,</div>
-<div class="verse">But the good host who&mdash;plants his cherry-trees!</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Love? I have loved once, once.... That awful day</div>
-<div class="verse">We stormed in through the gates of Amisus....</div>
-<div class="verse">The loot-mad soldiers, howling, smote the town</div>
-<div class="verse">Down in a mud of blood and dirt and wine,</div>
-<div class="verse">Bodies and gold and priceless tapestries.</div>
-<div class="verse">Half-mad I rushed to stop them, beat and struck;</div>
-<div class="verse">I think they would have murdered me at once,</div>
-<div class="verse">But that one drunkard yelled &#8220;The General!</div>
-<div class="verse">Lower your swords, lads! Sir, we won this town!</div>
-<div class="verse">You take your pleasures and let us take ours!&#8221;</div>
-<div class="verse">I reeled into the blackness of an arch,</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[19]</a></span>
-<div class="verse">And saw before me, white-robed, laurel-crowned,</div>
-<div class="verse">Just such a maiden as might once have danced</div>
-<div class="verse">Along the friezes of the Parthenon;</div>
-<div class="verse">A face like that on an old silver coin,</div>
-<div class="verse">Demetrius sent me, clear-cut, beautiful</div>
-<div class="verse">With all the burning beauty of the Greek.</div>
-<div class="verse">Pure and serene her grey eyes gazed in mine....</div>
-<div class="verse">We spoke few words; what need to speak at all</div>
-<div class="verse">When just our eyes told all we had to tell,</div>
-<div class="verse">There in the soft, cool blackness, splashed with light</div>
-<div class="verse">From the red pools of burning wine without?</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Few words. They chime like little silver bells</div>
-<div class="verse">Within my heart now, or like trumpet blasts</div>
-<div class="verse">Bear up my soul a little towards the gods.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">We had three years. She died before my fall.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="indent2">I thought of love as a crooked knife,</div>
-<div class="indent2">As a soft and passionate lord;</div>
-<div class="indent2">Born when the kings&#8217; beards dipped in wine</div>
-<div class="indent2">And the gold cups clashed on the board.</div>
-<div class="indent2">But my love came like a blast of cold,</div>
-<div class="indent2">A straight, clean, sword.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="indent2">I thought of love as a secret thing,</div>
-<div class="indent2">For an hour of incensed ease,</div>
-<div class="indent2">When breast and breast together cling,</div>
-<div class="indent2">Under sweet-scented trees.</div>
-<div class="indent2">My love is all good-comradeship,</div>
-<div class="indent2">More great than these.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[20]</a></span>
-<div class="indent2">I thought of love as a toy for a day,</div>
-<div class="indent2">Soon to be over-passed;</div>
-<div class="indent2">Light and frail as a hollow shell,</div>
-<div class="indent2">That into the brook is cast.</div>
-<div class="indent2">My love holds while the earth endures,</div>
-<div class="indent2">And the suns stand fast.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="indent2">I thought of love as mixed with earth,</div>
-<div class="indent2">One with the bloom of the sods.</div>
-<div class="indent2">My love is air and wine and fire,</div>
-<div class="indent2">Breaker of metes and rods,</div>
-<div class="indent2">A slender javelin tipped with light,</div>
-<div class="indent2">Hurled at the gods.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Life lies before me like a platter of coins.</div>
-<div class="verse">&#8220;Here are the new ones! Mark the choice design!&#8221;</div>
-<div class="verse">All cry: for me the others fade and dim,</div>
-<div class="verse">And one alone shines clear, an old Greek coin</div>
-<div class="verse">Demetrius sent me ... and that lovely face....</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Pompey would say that I am growing old,</div>
-<div class="verse">And Cicero would turn a phrase with me</div>
-<div class="verse">In his next great oration, as a type</div>
-<div class="verse">Of the old fool who mumbles of days past.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Meanwhile I have my orchards&mdash;and my feasts.</div>
-<div class="verse">Those turbot now; the sauce is very good,</div>
-<div class="verse">A peacock&#8217;s breast is good, too, at this time,</div>
-<div class="verse">With other things, as&mdash;&mdash;old Falernian,</div>
-<div class="verse">Tarentine oysters, and sweet wines from Thrace....</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Tarentine oysters and sweet wines from Thrace.</div>
-</div></div></div>
-
-
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[21]</a></span></p>
-
-<hr class="chap" />
-
-
-
-
-
-<div class="chapter">
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[22]</a></span>
-<h2 class="nobreak">THE FORLORN CAMPAIGN</h2></div>
-
-<hr class="chap" />
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[23]</a></span></p>
-<p class="ph1">THE FORLORN CAMPAIGN</p>
-
-<p class="center">[<small>CRASSUS IN PARTHIA. B. C.</small> 53]</p>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Go then, Valerius. Let the legions know,</div>
-<div class="verse">That I will answer this new embassy</div>
-<div class="verse">Within the hour.... They will mutiny,</div>
-<div class="verse">If I refuse these terms.... What shall I do?</div>
-<div class="verse"><i>What shall I do?</i> The trap is plain enough</div>
-<div class="verse">To me; but they, they only see the rough,</div>
-<div class="verse">Long road and the red, ever-circling cloud</div>
-<div class="verse">Of horsemen, raining arrows on them there.</div>
-<div class="verse">Gods! And the mountains are so near, so near!</div>
-<div class="verse">Scarce three days march ... that we shall never make.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">I boasted once. The gods like not the proud.</div>
-<div class="verse">And I shall die in this red waste of sand,</div>
-<div class="verse">Though my heart tremble and my stiff limbs shake.</div>
-<div class="verse">A thousand slaves bowed down at my command;</div>
-<div class="verse">I lived in ivory palaces of delight;</div>
-<div class="verse">I ruled an empire ... here is all my might;</div>
-<div class="verse">An old and wearied man in a bare tent,</div>
-<div class="verse">Whence, presently, I shall go out to die.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">How they will rage at Rome! Each will outvie</div>
-<div class="verse">The next in fury: none will dare lament.</div>
-<div class="verse">Caesar will listen with a little smile,</div>
-<div class="verse">A smile like two blue ice-cliffs as they part,</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[24]</a></span>
-<div class="verse">Slow-rising from the deep caves of his heart.</div>
-<div class="verse">Pompey will bow his great gold head awhile,</div>
-<div class="verse">And say, &#8220;He died a Roman. It is well.&#8221;</div>
-<div class="verse">Perhaps be sad, a little. For the rest,</div>
-<div class="verse">That yelping pack of nobles, they will howl</div>
-<div class="verse">How, &#8220;Crassus was a madman at the best,</div>
-<div class="verse">And in this last attempt, a blind old owl,</div>
-<div class="verse">A drink-crazed miser with a wooden sword.</div>
-<div class="verse">He blundered here and here! His whole campaign</div>
-<div class="verse">Was one great blunder!&#8221; So with one accord,</div>
-<div class="verse">They howl.</div>
-<div class="indent8">To praise is hard, easy to damn.</div>
-<div class="verse">I failed in this. Some other will succeed.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Yet they are right, in part. That day, far back,</div>
-<div class="verse">When by the borderline I checked my steed....</div>
-<div class="verse">Our spies had said the Parthian army lay</div>
-<div class="verse">Encamped near by and ready for the fray.</div>
-<div class="verse">We found no army; nothing but a track,</div>
-<div class="verse">Thousands of footprints stamped in the red sand,</div>
-<div class="verse">Where a great host had passed. A sudden fear</div>
-<div class="verse">Seized on the legions and on every hand</div>
-<div class="verse">The men shrank back.... No foe stood anywhere,</div>
-<div class="verse">Nothing but scarlet sand and brassy sky,</div>
-<div class="verse">And men aghast at signs traced on the ground,</div>
-<div class="verse">A ring of white, scared faces, without sound.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Then afterwards, there came that burning march</div>
-<div class="verse">Under a sky of flame, continually.</div>
-<div class="verse">Our very armor seemed to shrink and parch</div>
-<div class="verse">Beneath that sun; our tongues grew swelled and black;</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[25]</a></span>
-<div class="verse">And ever circling, circling, front and back,</div>
-<div class="verse">The Parthians galloped in a cloud of dust.</div>
-<div class="verse">They would not turn and fight but slew us thus.</div>
-<div class="verse">Their bitter arrows came like hail on us.</div>
-<div class="verse">Our strongest dropped and died without a blow.</div>
-<div class="verse">Then, beyond Carrhæ, trusting in our woe,</div>
-<div class="verse">They turned at last and stood to wait our thrust.</div>
-<div class="verse">But two things I remember of that fight.</div>
-<div class="verse">How Publius went out&mdash;the burning light</div>
-<div class="verse">Smote on his armor, turning it to gold,</div>
-<div class="verse">Save where, a sunset cloud, his red cloak rolled;</div>
-<div class="verse">And in his face was joy and keen delight,</div>
-<div class="verse">Youth and a boy&#8217;s high heart and great resolves....</div>
-<div class="verse">A golden knight he stood, a golden knight....</div>
-<div class="verse">He rides away, the crimson cloud dissolves....</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">One other picture burns within my brain,</div>
-<div class="verse">Like white-hot sand; and will burn now until</div>
-<div class="verse">I go into the trap tonight.... Again</div>
-<div class="verse">The dust cloud rose, and from a little hill</div>
-<div class="verse">I saw the sheen of spearheads at its rim,</div>
-<div class="verse">And near the rim a spot of black that grew,</div>
-<div class="verse">Grew, grew, till earth and sky alike were dim;</div>
-<div class="verse">For there was nought but it in earth and sky....</div>
-<div class="verse">Nought but a black, dead, face ... a face I knew....</div>
-<div class="verse">The lips were bloody ... down upon the pike</div>
-<div class="verse">Dripped long slow drops like tears.... I hear them now,</div>
-<div class="verse">Gathering, hanging.... Gods! they strike and strike!...</div>
-<div class="verse">Dripping forever on my naked heart....</div>
-<div class="verse">Great tears of blood.... Once, very long ago,</div>
-<div class="verse">I had a son.... How glad he seemed to start</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[26]</a></span>
-<div class="verse">On that attack!... No ... no ... I shall go mad!</div>
-<div class="verse">I must not think how glad he was!... how glad....</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">We fell back towards the mountains. Cassius took</div>
-<div class="verse">Another way. He may be slain or safe,</div>
-<div class="verse">I know not; for myself, my legious chafe</div>
-<div class="verse">And mutiny, I die here. But as I look</div>
-<div class="verse">So close to death, I see that what I strove</div>
-<div class="verse">To do will yet be done and Rome shall rule</div>
-<div class="verse">Forever o&#8217;er the bloody road I clove.</div>
-<div class="verse">I break ... but she will find another tool.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Ere the first sword was sharpened and the first trumpet blown</div>
-<div class="verse">Rome looked upon the new-made lands and marked them for her own!</div>
-<div class="verse">Ere the first ship was timbered and the first rudder hung</div>
-<div class="verse">Rome held the oceans in her hands, splendid and stern and young!</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">The wild tribes bend before her, the kings are overthrown,</div>
-<div class="verse">The purple empires of the East before her feet fall down.</div>
-<div class="verse">From strange barbaric countries her captains bring her spoil,</div>
-<div class="verse">Treasures of gems and ivory, spices and wines and oil.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Wheat grows for her in Egypt; for her the Greek scribes write,</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[27]</a></span>
-<div class="verse">For her the diver dares the shark, the fowler scales the height,</div>
-<div class="verse">To feed her great arenas the bold beast-tamer quakes</div>
-<div class="verse">Among the tawny lions or the hissing pits of snakes.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Her legions march in Asia, they tramp through Farthest Gaul,</div>
-<div class="verse">In Greece their horns blow up the dawn, in Spain they stand a wall.</div>
-<div class="verse">And still upon her Seven Hills Rome rules the seas and tides,</div>
-<div class="verse">The earth and all that in it is, while that stern strength abides.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Hail for the last time, Mother! Your sons stand here at bay.</div>
-<div class="verse">Still you have sons for conquest. We fall the Roman way!</div>
-<div class="verse">Our cheers still ringing, our short swords drawn,</div>
-<div class="verse">We die here singing, but Rome, Rome goes on!</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Ah! Yes, Valerius, I will answer them.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Comrades! I know these terms are but a trap:</div>
-<div class="verse">Yet I would rather die by Parthian swords</div>
-<div class="verse">Than Roman.</div>
-<div class="indent9">After I am dead push on,</div>
-<div class="verse">Straight to the mountains; once the heights are won,</div>
-<div class="verse">You can defy at last these swarming hordes.</div>
-<div class="verse">Break camp at once to guard against mishap.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[28]</a></span>
-<div class="verse">Farewell! Valerius is your general now....</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Up there, you say, upon that hillock&#8217;s brow</div>
-<div class="verse">They wait?... Yes, I can see the glint of steel....</div>
-</div></div></div>
-
-<hr class="chap" />
-
-
-
-<div class="chapter">
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[29]</a></span>
-<h2 class="nobreak">AD ATTICUM</h2></div>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[30]</a></span></p>
-<hr class="chap" />
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[31]</a></span></p>
-<p class="ph1">AD ATTICUM</p>
-
-<p class="center">[<small>CICERO.</small> 48 <small>B. C.</small>]</p>
-
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">How hot it is! Faint waves of heat steam up</div>
-<div class="verse">From the burnt sand without, like threads of glass,</div>
-<div class="verse">Blurring the vision. In the dark, cool rooms</div>
-<div class="verse">Within, all are asleep, and not a sound</div>
-<div class="verse">Breaks the tense stillness.... Why should I not sleep?</div>
-<div class="verse">This letter here, to Atticus, can wait....</div>
-<div class="verse">No! I had better write it now, this court</div>
-<div class="verse">Is cool enough, the plashing fountain pleasant,</div>
-<div class="verse">Stylus and tablets on the table there....</div>
-<div class="verse">Let me begin!... Where did I buy this style?</div>
-<div class="verse">Oh yes, at Patras, where we had to leave</div>
-<div class="verse">Poor Tiro sick&mdash;well, he is better now&mdash;</div>
-<div class="verse">And, Jupiter be thanked! I have escaped</div>
-<div class="verse">Safely from that accursed province! Gods!</div>
-<div class="verse">Now, even now, the names ring in my brain,</div>
-<div class="verse">The petty lawsuits which I must adjudge,</div>
-<div class="verse">The protests from the people, stricken down</div>
-<div class="verse">Under a shameful load of usury,</div>
-<div class="verse">Oppressed by every Roman thief that crept</div>
-<div class="verse">Into some petty office. Gods, those trials!</div>
-<div class="verse">They made me old before my time. That case</div>
-<div class="verse">Between Valerius and Volusius!</div>
-<div class="verse">And Brutus, the immaculate, with his interest</div>
-<div class="verse">Of forty-eight per cent!</div>
-<div class="indent13">What shall I say</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[32]</a></span>
-<div class="verse">To Atticus? &#8220;Caesar and I are friends.&#8221;</div>
-<div class="verse">Or, &#8220;Next week I shall sail from Formia</div>
-<div class="verse">And seek out Pompey.&#8221;</div>
-<div class="indent11">There they stand, gouged plain</div>
-<div class="verse">On the smooth wax. I rub them both out&mdash;so!</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Caesar, which shall I write? I was your friend.</div>
-<div class="verse">Pompey has helped me always. Over all</div>
-<div class="verse">Stands Rome. This war I hate as I hate Hell,</div>
-<div class="verse">And yet must take one side.... You made the war,</div>
-<div class="verse">Caesar ... and the Republic perishes,</div>
-<div class="verse">If you are victor.... That one fact ends all.</div>
-<div class="verse">Rome will be better ruled? There&#8217;s something more</div>
-<div class="verse">Than better rule, something for which men die.</div>
-<div class="verse">May I have grace to die so at the end,</div>
-<div class="verse">Grace to pursue my vision to the last,</div>
-<div class="verse">Though all my body is one sweat of blood;</div>
-<div class="verse">Grace to reach up and touch her garment&#8217;s hem</div>
-<div class="verse">And see her smile down in that last, black place</div>
-<div class="verse">Where the swords fall. I shall be happy then.</div>
-<div class="verse">All heaven and earth will be repaid to me,</div>
-<div class="verse">In that one glance, before the swords sweep down.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Life is a dream and a rapture, life is a voice and a breath,</div>
-<div class="verse">A gust of wind and a darkness, puffed in the face of Death,</div>
-<div class="verse">Life is a treacherous river, a house that sinks in the sand,</div>
-<div class="verse">A gift that poisons the giver, a ring that withers the hand.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[33]</a></span>
-<div class="verse">Yet, when a man is mighty, that dream is more than the truth,</div>
-<div class="verse">That wailing wind in the darkness more bright than the fires of youth,</div>
-<div class="verse">The ring gives wisdom and power, the house stands up like a rock,</div>
-<div class="verse">The river roars from the mountains, and his foemen reel at its shock.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">These are our mighty fellows, we are akin to these,</div>
-<div class="verse">The men who burn on the deserts, who drown in the pathless seas,</div>
-<div class="verse">Not for gold or for power or gems some king has thieved,</div>
-<div class="verse">But simply to follow a vision, to see a dream achieved!</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">So, though we stand beleaguered, though the foe comes on like the sea,</div>
-<div class="verse">Though slaves fall down as he passes, and helot bend at his knee,</div>
-<div class="verse">Though there is no escaping, though the last hope is gone,</div>
-<div class="verse">Here in the sight of all men we buckle our armor on!</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Whatever chances, Tullia is safe;</div>
-<div class="verse">I only risk myself ... and so, at last,</div>
-<div class="verse">I shall begin my letter ... yet I wonder</div>
-<div class="verse">If, after this, I shall see Formia</div>
-<div class="verse">Ever again.... No need to think of that!</div>
-<div class="verse">Tullia will be safe ... and Atticus;</div>
-<div class="verse">But, for the rest&mdash;I have lost many friends</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[34]</a></span>
-<div class="verse">Already.... Bah! Come, let me get to work!...</div>
-<div class="verse">Tullia will be safe.... Hail, Atticus!</div>
-</div></div></div>
-
-<hr class="chap" />
-
-
-
-<div class="chapter">
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[35]</a></span>
-<h2 class="nobreak">DE BELLO CIVILI</h2></div>
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[36]</a></span></p>
-
-<hr class="chap" />
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[37]</a></span></p>
-
-<p class="ph1">DE BELLO CIVILI</p>
-
-<p class="center">[<small>CAESAR.</small> 49 <small>B. C.</small>]</p>
-
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">More letters? Lay them down here.</div>
-<div class="indent18">Antony,</div>
-<div class="verse">Curio, Cicero&mdash;even Atticus&mdash;</div>
-<div class="verse">Well, what does Antony say, &#8220;Strike quick and hard!</div>
-<div class="verse">March your picked Gauls on Rome!&#8221; H&#8217;m? &#8220;All the city</div>
-<div class="verse">Is gone stark mad against you.&#8221; Oh, of course!</div>
-<div class="verse">&#8220;At the next meeting of the Senate&#8221;? Ah!</div>
-<div class="verse">&#8220;I will suggest both you and Pompey lay</div>
-<div class="verse">Aside your several commands.&#8221; All hangs</div>
-<div class="verse">On that one offer&mdash;If they should refuse,</div>
-<div class="verse">I strike at last!...</div>
-<div class="indent9">Well, Curio, &#8220;Dare you not</div>
-<div class="verse">Give up the provinces? All would be well.</div>
-<div class="verse">It is the one thing Pompey now demands&mdash;</div>
-<div class="verse">Impossible of course&mdash;&#8221; Gods, Curio!</div>
-<div class="verse">&#8220;Give up the provinces&#8221;! For twenty years</div>
-<div class="verse">I have toiled up this hill&mdash;and now at last</div>
-<div class="verse">Stand here, proconsul of a barren land,</div>
-<div class="verse">A swarming, seething pot of plots and lies,</div>
-<div class="verse">Where every day brings forth a fresh revolt.</div>
-<div class="verse">Others had rich lands in the peaceful East,</div>
-<div class="verse">They fought with armies, I a people. Now,</div>
-<div class="verse">After nine years these Gauls are not subdued.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[38]</a></span>
-<div class="verse">I stand alone against a forest fire ...</div>
-<div class="verse">But even this they will not suffer, no,</div>
-<div class="verse">Not even that I waste my life in vain</div>
-<div class="verse">In these vast woods. They call me to return,</div>
-<div class="verse">&#8220;A private citizen as Pompey did.&#8221;</div>
-<div class="verse">No, to return disgraced, shut out forever</div>
-<div class="verse">From all great deeds....</div>
-<div class="indent11">What say you, Cicero?</div>
-<div class="verse">&#8220;I know you do not want a civil war.&#8221;</div>
-<div class="verse">H&#8217;m. &#8220;Rome mistaken&mdash;.&#8221; H&#8217;m. &#8220;Why should you care</div>
-<div class="verse">For all these dogs that bark at great men&#8217;s heels?</div>
-<div class="verse">You say your foes are wrong&mdash;It may be so,</div>
-<div class="verse">At least they act with one thought in their minds,</div>
-<div class="verse">That you wish civil war for your own ends.</div>
-<div class="verse">Why not disprove them, strike them dumb, resign</div>
-<div class="verse">Your provinces!&#8221; and let them cut my throat!</div>
-<div class="verse">&#8220;Return to Rome a citizen. That one act</div>
-<div class="verse">Would make you just&mdash;immortal, and they, they,</div>
-<div class="verse">Would shrink back to their holes, never again</div>
-<div class="verse">To dare the splendor of the day and truth.</div>
-<div class="verse">Pompey is not against you. Him I know.</div>
-<div class="verse">And he would be as generous a friend</div>
-<div class="verse">As you could wish&mdash;resign his legions too&mdash;&#8221;</div>
-<div class="verse">Ah, Cicero!&mdash;What&#8217;s this, here at the end?</div>
-<div class="verse">&#8220;Remember the Republic! Caesar, Caesar!</div>
-<div class="verse">Gaze not in that Medusa&#8217;s face. Your soul</div>
-<div class="verse">Stands here at stake, you hold the fate of Rome</div>
-<div class="verse">In your two hands. Gaze not in that dread face!&#8221;</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Another letter! What ... from Calinus ...</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[39]</a></span>
-<div class="verse">How our lives part ... and men part.... Why the last</div>
-<div class="verse">Time that I saw him was ... how long ago ...</div>
-<div class="verse">Ten ... twenty years ... on the white walls of Rhodes</div>
-<div class="verse">We talked that evening on the flat, wide roof</div>
-<div class="verse">Of the old merchant&#8217;s house where he was lodged.</div>
-<div class="verse">I was to leave tomorrow, and we lay</div>
-<div class="verse">Under the blazing stars. A brown slave girl</div>
-<div class="verse">Plucked at a lute whose drowsy murmur died</div>
-<div class="verse">Throbbingly into sweetness.... We were young</div>
-<div class="verse">And all our gorgeous dreams marched forth in state</div>
-<div class="verse">Past the great purple bales of Syrian rugs,</div>
-<div class="verse">Over the thin brown frails of dates, until</div>
-<div class="verse">The skies were full of color, great broad bands ...</div>
-<div class="verse">Crimson like pigeon&#8217;s blood, blue like the sea,</div>
-<div class="verse">Yellow like old, old ivory.... The stars waned.</div>
-<div class="verse">Next day we parted. Friend, friend of my youth,</div>
-<div class="verse">What have you now to say? Today I make</div>
-<div class="verse">The last decision, take one course of two,</div>
-<div class="verse">Be saved or lost ... friend ... friend ... friend of my youth....</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="indent2">&#8220;Caesar, the swords are ready,</div>
-<div class="indent2">The swords you have tempered long,</div>
-<div class="indent2">War and peace are held in your hand,</div>
-<div class="indent2">You stand at length where you longed to stand;</div>
-<div class="indent2">By civil war you would heal a land,</div>
-<div class="indent2">And by wrong you would better a wrong.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="indent2">Power and Strength and Empire,</div>
-<div class="indent2">These are full mighty words.</div>
-<div class="indent2">One thing, men&#8217;s Freedom, is higher than all.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[40]</a></span>
-<div class="indent2">And better a hut though it totter and fall,</div>
-<div class="indent2">A broken temple, a ruined wall,</div>
-<div class="indent2">Than a land subdued by your swords!</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="indent2">We have walked for a time together.</div>
-<div class="indent2">The roads fork and we part.</div>
-<div class="indent2">I follow my Lady of beauty and grace,</div>
-<div class="indent2">Drunk with the light of her glorious face,</div>
-<div class="indent2">And you, you go to your own place:</div>
-<div class="indent2">And a poison breeds in your heart.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="indent2">I go with the Republic.</div>
-<div class="indent2">The Empire stands by your side.</div>
-<div class="indent2">You love her now. In a time not far</div>
-<div class="indent2">You will look in your heart where your dead hopes are,</div>
-<div class="indent2">And curse her for a lamia,</div>
-<div class="indent2">The serpent you called bride.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="indent2">We part. Our ways are far henceforth.</div>
-<div class="indent2">Henceforth our speech is with spears,</div>
-<div class="indent2">I curse you not. Strive on for your prize</div>
-<div class="indent2">Till the last thick darkness covers your eyes</div>
-<div class="indent2">And the voice of the dead Republic cries</div>
-<div class="indent2">Forever in your ears.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="indent2">Follow your foe o&#8217;er land and sea,</div>
-<div class="indent2">River and bush and stone!</div>
-<div class="indent2">When the end has come to the weary race</div>
-<div class="indent2">And the slain man lies in his fated place,</div>
-<div class="indent2">You shall draw the veil from the white dead face,</div>
-<div class="indent2">And shriek, knowing your own!&#8221;</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[41]</a></span>
-<div class="indent2">Calinus ... Calinus ... To be saved or lost....</div>
-<div class="indent2">What! Curio and Antony are without?</div>
-<div class="indent2">Curio! Antony! Welcome!... What ... you say</div>
-<div class="indent2">They drove you from the Senate?... I must make</div>
-<div class="indent2">Decision now....</div>
-<div class="indent11">Comrades! The die is cast!</div>
-<div class="indent2">We march tomorrow on Ariminum!</div>
-</div></div></div>
-
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[42]</a></span></p>
-<hr class="chap" />
-
-
-<div class="chapter">
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[43]</a></span>
-<h2 class="nobreak">AFTER PHARSALIA</h2></div>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[44]</a></span></p>
-<hr class="chap" />
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[45]</a></span></p>
-
-
-
-<p class="ph1">AFTER PHARSALIA</p>
-
-<p class="center">[<small>POMPEY.</small> 48 <small>B. C.</small>]</p>
-
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">So it is over; you have won at last,</div>
-<div class="verse">And our long struggle ends and with it Rome,</div>
-<div class="verse">The Rome that was the glory of the past,</div>
-<div class="verse">Whose stripped fleets ruled the seas, shaking the foam</div>
-<div class="verse">From their proud prows. They brought a freedom then.</div>
-<div class="verse">Freedom and the Republic. Once. No more.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Well, it was fated, my most trusted men</div>
-<div class="verse">Failed me at need; as your chiefs will fail you,</div>
-<div class="verse">O Caesar! You I neither fear nor hate.</div>
-<div class="verse">We strove not with each other but with fate.</div>
-<div class="verse">Your followers will ruin what you do;</div>
-<div class="verse">Since you are honest, and will strive to make</div>
-<div class="verse">New laws and found an Empire, which, at least,</div>
-<div class="verse">Gives Justice equally to all. The stake</div>
-<div class="verse">Is high. They have sat long now at their feast,</div>
-<div class="verse">With Rome their pig-trough. They will conquer you;</div>
-<div class="verse">A hundred dwarfs, pulling a giant down.</div>
-<div class="verse">The problem is too great, the time not ripe</div>
-<div class="verse">For its solution.</div>
-<div class="indent9">We have fought, we two!</div>
-<div class="verse">For the Republic I, you for your crown,</div>
-<div class="verse">Each one of his own cause the very type.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[46]</a></span>
-<div class="verse">Though both of us have failed, your cause yet rules,</div>
-<div class="verse">Your Empire.</div>
-<div class="indent9">Any fool can govern fools.</div>
-<div class="verse">To make fools rule themselves and do it well,</div>
-<div class="verse">That is the task. If you could rule forever,</div>
-<div class="verse">Caesar ... but little men will seize your work,</div>
-<div class="verse">Your great machine. There&#8217;s where the paths dissever!</div>
-<div class="verse">And Rome roars blindly down amid the murk</div>
-<div class="verse">To swift destruction....</div>
-<div class="indent15">Still one chance remains</div>
-<div class="verse">Where my disbanded legions fill the plains</div>
-<div class="verse">Of Egypt. A bare chance. If that fails too,</div>
-<div class="verse">Why, &#8220;Here lies Cnæus Pompey, called the Great,</div>
-<div class="verse">He fought for the Republic, loved his wife,</div>
-<div class="verse">And climbed the ladder of swords that men call Life.&#8221;</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Stretching straight from the viewless Pit,</div>
-<div class="verse">To the skies that are shamed because of it,</div>
-<div class="verse">Lit with a blue and hungry fire,</div>
-<div class="verse">That blasts like the breath of fulfilled Desire,</div>
-<div class="verse">Glory and Shame in its secret hoards,</div>
-<div class="verse">It stands supreme, the Ladder of Swords!</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse"><i>You must climb it?</i> Aye, with all men born!</div>
-<div class="verse"><i>When?</i> When you reel from the common scorn,</div>
-<div class="verse">When utter Defeat has gripped you fast,</div>
-<div class="verse">And your life goes down in the dark at last;</div>
-<div class="verse">When the things you builded dissolve like mist,</div>
-<div class="verse">And Love has broken his faith and tryst,</div>
-<div class="verse">And your body strains at the torturers&#8217; cords,</div>
-<div class="verse">You have come at last to the Ladder of Swords!</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[47]</a></span>
-<div class="verse"><i>Will you find a friend?</i> One friend alone,</div>
-<div class="verse">Flesh of your flesh and bone of your bone,</div>
-<div class="verse">The last strange Courage that mocks Despair,</div>
-<div class="verse">That hunts the wolf with the wounded hare,</div>
-<div class="verse">That throws your life in the jaws of death</div>
-<div class="verse">To snatch it back in a single breath.</div>
-<div class="verse">Blinded no longer by pomp and words,</div>
-<div class="verse">You shall go up stark to the Ladder of Swords!</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Though your torn feet slip on the bloody steel,</div>
-<div class="verse">Though your body faint and your senses reel,</div>
-<div class="verse">Dizzied with agony, blind and numb,</div>
-<div class="verse">You shall crawl the rungs till the end is come;</div>
-<div class="verse">Though the sun flare out and the heavens crack,</div>
-<div class="verse">Nor god nor devil can turn you back!</div>
-<div class="verse">This is the prize that Defeat accords!</div>
-<div class="verse">Courage! Courage! The Ladder of Swords!</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Yes, by the gods! Caesar, the day is yours,</div>
-<div class="verse">You rule the world&mdash;while you debauch the State.</div>
-<div class="verse">Yet, somewhere, beyond all, there still endures,</div>
-<div class="verse">That pure Republic: and its white walls shine,</div>
-<div class="verse">Proudly, a dream no conquests can dispel.</div>
-<div class="verse">Your hosts toil uselessly; no force can take</div>
-<div class="verse">Those walls. Your legionaries break and break,</div>
-<div class="verse">In vain. Ever, before each bleeding line,</div>
-<div class="verse">It rises still, the Vision Invincible!</div>
-</div></div></div>
-
-<hr class="chap" />
-
-<div class="transnote">
-
-
-<p class="ph2">TRANSCRIBER&#8217;S NOTE:</p>
-
-
-<p>Obvious typographical errors have been corrected.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-
-
-<div>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 62494 ***</div>
-</body>
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-The Project Gutenberg EBook of Five Men and Pompey, by Stephen Vincent Benét
-
-This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most
-other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions
-whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of
-the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at
-www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have
-to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook.
-
-Title: Five Men and Pompey
- A Series of Dramatic Portraits
-
-Author: Stephen Vincent Benét
-
-Release Date: June 26, 2020 [EBook #62494]
-
-Language: English
-
-Character set encoding: UTF-8
-
-*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FIVE MEN AND POMPEY ***
-
-
-
-
-Produced by Tim Lindell, David E. Brown, and the Online
-Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This
-file was produced from images generously made available
-by The Internet Archive/Canadian Libraries)
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-THE COVER DESIGN IS BY ELIHU VEDDER
-
-
-
-
-UNIFORM WITH THIS VOLUME
-
-
- LAODICE AND DANAË _Play in Verse_
- By _Gordon Bottomley_
-
- IMAGES--OLD AND NEW _Poems_
- By _Richard Aldington_
-
- THE ENGLISH TONGUE AND OTHER POEMS
- By _Lewis Worthington Smith_
-
- FIVE MEN AND POMPEY _Dramatic Portraits_
- By _Stephen Vincent Benét_
-
- HORIZONS _Poems_
- By _Robert Alden Sanborn_
-
- THE TRAGEDY _A Fantasy in Verse_
- By _Gilbert Moyle_
-
-
-
-
- FIVE MEN AND POMPEY
-
- _A Series of Dramatic Portraits_
-
- BY
- STEPHEN VINCENT BENÉT
-
- [Illustration]
-
- BOSTON
- THE FOUR SEAS COMPANY
- 1915
-
-
-
-
- _Copyright, 1915, by_
- THE FOUR SEAS COMPANY
-
- THE FOUR SEAS PRESS
- BOSTON AND NORWOOD
-
-
-
-
-CONTENTS
-
-
- THE LAST BANQUET 9
-
- LUCULLUS DINES-- 17
-
- THE FORLORN CAMPAIGN 23
-
- AD ATTICUM 31
-
- DE BELLO CIVILI 37
-
- AFTER PHARSALIA 45
-
-
-
-
-THE LAST BANQUET
-
-
-
-
-THE LAST BANQUET
-
-[SERTORIUS SPEAKS. B. C. 72]
-
-
- Twelve years! Twelve years of striving! and at last
- My power is--secure? Still Pompey lives
- And has an army and Metellus strives
- To wipe out his defeats. The net is cast:
- Cast, and draws ever tighter: and my men
- Grumble and mutter, near to mutiny.
- Perpenna stirs up treason: like a fen
- Of black and quaking marshes, my own camp
- Boils up all foulness, gapes to swallow me.
- The black death-chariot waits, the coursers stamp--
- Yet I have made a law, have curbed the tribes,
- Built up a senate, founded schools, withstood
- For twelve long years the iron arm of Rome.
- I have not spared my time, my gold, my blood.
- And now all vanishes in plots and gibes--
- I love this warm, brown land; it is my home.
- And yet--to see the Forum once again!
- Ah, Nydia! Nydia! Had you not died
- I could have crossed the Alps, have crushed these men,
- These unclean vultures, tearing at Rome’s side;
- I could have brought back the Republic--then.
- You died. I still fight on, but I am old.
- Pompey is young, and though I beat him now,
- He will be victor, as the end will show.
- Ah, Plancus, enter! Is the night so cold
- That you need shroud yourself in that great cloak?
- You too, Perpenna, Cimon, you who broke
- So bravely through the foe, you fear a draught?
- Be seated, friends!
-
- My comrades, we have laughed
- And feasted for an hour together, yet
- I have not told you why I summoned thus
- My ten most trusted leaders to this feast.
- Now is the time! I shall discharge the debt.
- Glorious tidings come from out the East!
- And Mithridates hurries aid to us--
- Let not that goblet fall I pray thee, friend!--
- Ah! Dog and traitor! So this was your end!
- Guards! Guards!--I think you will not rise again,
- Perpenna, from that blow! Guards! Ho there, men!
- A-a-ah! Thank you, Pompey! No, you will not take
- Me back to grace your triumph: they have done
- Their work too well, your friends. My sands are run.
- And you have burst all barriers left to break
- That shielded the Republic. It is dead.
-
- Not with a pomp of banners,
- Not with a flare of spears,
- Not with mourning or head downcast
- The great Republic dies at last;
- A sword in the heart and the hands bound fast,
- Dead in the wreck of the years!
-
- Pompey, Pompey, chief of pride,
- Hero and lord of Rome!
- You ride to a gallant triumph now,
- Gay as the green and fruitful bough;
- But the bough will be withered and dry enow
- When you ride for the last time home!
-
- Pompey, Pompey, laugh while you may!
- Laugh as Polycrates laughed!
- But ever, when life is most glorious,
- I bid you think of Sertorius,
- Of how he rode forth victorious,
- And how he was slain by craft.
-
- I have been slain by great lords;
- But a slave shall strike you down,
- A slave shall strike you down from behind,
- And your strength shall fail, and your sight go blind,
- And your body a nameless grave shall find,
- You, that strove for a crown!
-
- Pompey, Pompey, turn where you may!
- You shall get but little ease.
- For whether on sea or whether on land,
- One picture shall ever before you stand--
- A man struck down on a barren strand--
- A head hacked off by the seas!
-
- Pompey, Pompey, go where you will,
- Double and turn again!
- One thought shall you know till you lie in your grave;
- A thought not even your soul can brave!--
- The thought of a mean and evil slave,
- And a knife that was forged in Spain!
-
- So the Republic dies! and all my work
- Is vain; the things I built are shattered now,
- My task is done, the task I dared not shirk;
- And I am very tired. Nydia, come!
- Come as you came that day down the green walk,
- The day I rode in triumph back to Rome,
- After the Cimbri had been crushed--and talk,
- Talk as we talked that day beside the pool,
- Shadowed by ilex, where the golden hearts
- Of lilies burned within the water cool,--
- Nydia! But she stays not, she departs!
- The marble seat--you lifted up your face--
- I have fought long now. I am weary. Come!
- Nydia! Nydia! and lead me home!
- Home! How the Forum blazes in the sun!
- The Roman faces and the kindly speech;
- The melon-sellers, proffering to each
- That comes, ripe, green-streaked melons--What! you shun
- An old friend, Balbus? No! It was not I!
- No! by the gods! I never gave consent
- To those red days of massacre!----They cry!
- Oh gods! they cry, cry, they are not yet dead!
- They _will_ not die: they hurl upon my head
- Curses and prayers! I hear them in my tent!
- They are not dead! Oh gods! They are not dead!
- I never gave consent!
-
- Still the time slips
- And Nydia comes not. I am very tired.
- The things are broken to which I aspired,
- And you alone are left. Love! She is here
- Nydia, Nydia....
-
-
-
-
-LUCULLUS DINES--
-
-
-
-
-LUCULLUS DINES--
-
-[59 B. C.]
-
-
- I dine in the Apollo room tonight,
- With Cicero and Pompey! See to it!
-
- Cicero! Pompey! But ten years ago
- Lucullus was the hero, Conqueror
- Of Mithridates, Rescuer of Rome!
- All’s Pompey now; he goes far--and has gone;
- And, with it all, is just the honest, brave,
- Young captain that I saw that hot, raw, day;
- The first day of my shame. Oh gods, gods, gods!
- Must Rome have always victories, victories,
- Incredible conquests till the whole world reels,
- And still thrust traps into my path until
- I fall at last?
- When Pompey came I knew.
- Oh he was kind, quite kind, considerate
- Of the old bitter man there who had failed,
- Recalled without a triumph! He was kind
- In all his splendid, conquering, strength and youth!
- Yet, I had beaten Mithridates. So
- Let the old lion growl through teeth once sharp!
- This sordid squabble of a vulgar crowd
- Of stiff patricians, ranting demagogues,
- Serves well for others. I, I have my trees,
- My cherries, rooted firm in Roman soil,
- Shedding a delicate whiteness on the hills
- When spring comes. A far greater triumph that
- Than all my conquests.
- Yes, they know me well,
- These young men, “That old dragon on the hill,
- Who gives such gorgeous dinners. Gods, his wines!
- Fit for Apollo!”
- Yes, an excellent host,
- Learned in sauces, skilled in oysters, game;
- Within whose heart no spark of ancient fire
- Burns on.... Oh Power! Power! Once to lead
- An army, once again, and see the thick
- Rain of the Parthian arrows and the blaze
- As forty brazen cohorts broke the foe!
- The thin lines buckle, the black masses fly!
- _Imperator Romanus!_
- No, Lucullus,
- But the good host who--plants his cherry-trees!
-
- Love? I have loved once, once.... That awful day
- We stormed in through the gates of Amisus....
- The loot-mad soldiers, howling, smote the town
- Down in a mud of blood and dirt and wine,
- Bodies and gold and priceless tapestries.
- Half-mad I rushed to stop them, beat and struck;
- I think they would have murdered me at once,
- But that one drunkard yelled “The General!
- Lower your swords, lads! Sir, we won this town!
- You take your pleasures and let us take ours!”
- I reeled into the blackness of an arch,
- And saw before me, white-robed, laurel-crowned,
- Just such a maiden as might once have danced
- Along the friezes of the Parthenon;
- A face like that on an old silver coin,
- Demetrius sent me, clear-cut, beautiful
- With all the burning beauty of the Greek.
- Pure and serene her grey eyes gazed in mine....
- We spoke few words; what need to speak at all
- When just our eyes told all we had to tell,
- There in the soft, cool blackness, splashed with light
- From the red pools of burning wine without?
-
- Few words. They chime like little silver bells
- Within my heart now, or like trumpet blasts
- Bear up my soul a little towards the gods.
-
- We had three years. She died before my fall.
-
- I thought of love as a crooked knife,
- As a soft and passionate lord;
- Born when the kings’ beards dipped in wine
- And the gold cups clashed on the board.
- But my love came like a blast of cold,
- A straight, clean, sword.
-
- I thought of love as a secret thing,
- For an hour of incensed ease,
- When breast and breast together cling,
- Under sweet-scented trees.
- My love is all good-comradeship,
- More great than these.
-
- I thought of love as a toy for a day,
- Soon to be over-passed;
- Light and frail as a hollow shell,
- That into the brook is cast.
- My love holds while the earth endures,
- And the suns stand fast.
-
- I thought of love as mixed with earth,
- One with the bloom of the sods.
- My love is air and wine and fire,
- Breaker of metes and rods,
- A slender javelin tipped with light,
- Hurled at the gods.
-
- Life lies before me like a platter of coins.
- “Here are the new ones! Mark the choice design!”
- All cry: for me the others fade and dim,
- And one alone shines clear, an old Greek coin
- Demetrius sent me ... and that lovely face....
-
- Pompey would say that I am growing old,
- And Cicero would turn a phrase with me
- In his next great oration, as a type
- Of the old fool who mumbles of days past.
-
- Meanwhile I have my orchards--and my feasts.
- Those turbot now; the sauce is very good,
- A peacock’s breast is good, too, at this time,
- With other things, as----old Falernian,
- Tarentine oysters, and sweet wines from Thrace....
-
- Tarentine oysters and sweet wines from Thrace.
-
-
-
-
-THE FORLORN CAMPAIGN
-
-
-
-
-THE FORLORN CAMPAIGN
-
-[CRASSUS IN PARTHIA. B. C. 53]
-
-
- Go then, Valerius. Let the legions know,
- That I will answer this new embassy
- Within the hour.... They will mutiny,
- If I refuse these terms.... What shall I do?
- _What shall I do?_ The trap is plain enough
- To me; but they, they only see the rough,
- Long road and the red, ever-circling cloud
- Of horsemen, raining arrows on them there.
- Gods! And the mountains are so near, so near!
- Scarce three days march ... that we shall never make.
-
- I boasted once. The gods like not the proud.
- And I shall die in this red waste of sand,
- Though my heart tremble and my stiff limbs shake.
- A thousand slaves bowed down at my command;
- I lived in ivory palaces of delight;
- I ruled an empire ... here is all my might;
- An old and wearied man in a bare tent,
- Whence, presently, I shall go out to die.
-
- How they will rage at Rome! Each will outvie
- The next in fury: none will dare lament.
- Caesar will listen with a little smile,
- A smile like two blue ice-cliffs as they part,
- Slow-rising from the deep caves of his heart.
- Pompey will bow his great gold head awhile,
- And say, “He died a Roman. It is well.”
- Perhaps be sad, a little. For the rest,
- That yelping pack of nobles, they will howl
- How, “Crassus was a madman at the best,
- And in this last attempt, a blind old owl,
- A drink-crazed miser with a wooden sword.
- He blundered here and here! His whole campaign
- Was one great blunder!” So with one accord,
- They howl.
- To praise is hard, easy to damn.
- I failed in this. Some other will succeed.
-
- Yet they are right, in part. That day, far back,
- When by the borderline I checked my steed....
- Our spies had said the Parthian army lay
- Encamped near by and ready for the fray.
- We found no army; nothing but a track,
- Thousands of footprints stamped in the red sand,
- Where a great host had passed. A sudden fear
- Seized on the legions and on every hand
- The men shrank back.... No foe stood anywhere,
- Nothing but scarlet sand and brassy sky,
- And men aghast at signs traced on the ground,
- A ring of white, scared faces, without sound.
-
- Then afterwards, there came that burning march
- Under a sky of flame, continually.
- Our very armor seemed to shrink and parch
- Beneath that sun; our tongues grew swelled and black;
- And ever circling, circling, front and back,
- The Parthians galloped in a cloud of dust.
- They would not turn and fight but slew us thus.
- Their bitter arrows came like hail on us.
- Our strongest dropped and died without a blow.
- Then, beyond Carrhæ, trusting in our woe,
- They turned at last and stood to wait our thrust.
- But two things I remember of that fight.
- How Publius went out--the burning light
- Smote on his armor, turning it to gold,
- Save where, a sunset cloud, his red cloak rolled;
- And in his face was joy and keen delight,
- Youth and a boy’s high heart and great resolves....
- A golden knight he stood, a golden knight....
- He rides away, the crimson cloud dissolves....
-
- One other picture burns within my brain,
- Like white-hot sand; and will burn now until
- I go into the trap tonight.... Again
- The dust cloud rose, and from a little hill
- I saw the sheen of spearheads at its rim,
- And near the rim a spot of black that grew,
- Grew, grew, till earth and sky alike were dim;
- For there was nought but it in earth and sky....
- Nought but a black, dead, face ... a face I knew....
- The lips were bloody ... down upon the pike
- Dripped long slow drops like tears.... I hear them now,
- Gathering, hanging.... Gods! they strike and strike!...
- Dripping forever on my naked heart....
- Great tears of blood.... Once, very long ago,
- I had a son.... How glad he seemed to start
- On that attack!... No ... no ... I shall go mad!
- I must not think how glad he was!... how glad....
-
- We fell back towards the mountains. Cassius took
- Another way. He may be slain or safe,
- I know not; for myself, my legious chafe
- And mutiny, I die here. But as I look
- So close to death, I see that what I strove
- To do will yet be done and Rome shall rule
- Forever o’er the bloody road I clove.
- I break ... but she will find another tool.
-
- Ere the first sword was sharpened and the first trumpet blown
- Rome looked upon the new-made lands and marked them for her own!
- Ere the first ship was timbered and the first rudder hung
- Rome held the oceans in her hands, splendid and stern and young!
-
- The wild tribes bend before her, the kings are overthrown,
- The purple empires of the East before her feet fall down.
- From strange barbaric countries her captains bring her spoil,
- Treasures of gems and ivory, spices and wines and oil.
-
- Wheat grows for her in Egypt; for her the Greek scribes write,
- For her the diver dares the shark, the fowler scales the height,
- To feed her great arenas the bold beast-tamer quakes
- Among the tawny lions or the hissing pits of snakes.
-
- Her legions march in Asia, they tramp through Farthest Gaul,
- In Greece their horns blow up the dawn, in Spain they stand a wall.
- And still upon her Seven Hills Rome rules the seas and tides,
- The earth and all that in it is, while that stern strength abides.
-
- Hail for the last time, Mother! Your sons stand here at bay.
- Still you have sons for conquest. We fall the Roman way!
- Our cheers still ringing, our short swords drawn,
- We die here singing, but Rome, Rome goes on!
-
- Ah! Yes, Valerius, I will answer them.
-
- Comrades! I know these terms are but a trap:
- Yet I would rather die by Parthian swords
- Than Roman.
- After I am dead push on,
- Straight to the mountains; once the heights are won,
- You can defy at last these swarming hordes.
- Break camp at once to guard against mishap.
- Farewell! Valerius is your general now....
-
- Up there, you say, upon that hillock’s brow
- They wait?... Yes, I can see the glint of steel....
-
-
-
-
-AD ATTICUM
-
-
-
-
-AD ATTICUM
-
-[CICERO. 48 B. C.]
-
-
- How hot it is! Faint waves of heat steam up
- From the burnt sand without, like threads of glass,
- Blurring the vision. In the dark, cool rooms
- Within, all are asleep, and not a sound
- Breaks the tense stillness.... Why should I not sleep?
- This letter here, to Atticus, can wait....
- No! I had better write it now, this court
- Is cool enough, the plashing fountain pleasant,
- Stylus and tablets on the table there....
- Let me begin!... Where did I buy this style?
- Oh yes, at Patras, where we had to leave
- Poor Tiro sick--well, he is better now--
- And, Jupiter be thanked! I have escaped
- Safely from that accursed province! Gods!
- Now, even now, the names ring in my brain,
- The petty lawsuits which I must adjudge,
- The protests from the people, stricken down
- Under a shameful load of usury,
- Oppressed by every Roman thief that crept
- Into some petty office. Gods, those trials!
- They made me old before my time. That case
- Between Valerius and Volusius!
- And Brutus, the immaculate, with his interest
- Of forty-eight per cent!
- What shall I say
- To Atticus? “Caesar and I are friends.”
- Or, “Next week I shall sail from Formia
- And seek out Pompey.”
- There they stand, gouged plain
- On the smooth wax. I rub them both out--so!
-
- Caesar, which shall I write? I was your friend.
- Pompey has helped me always. Over all
- Stands Rome. This war I hate as I hate Hell,
- And yet must take one side.... You made the war,
- Caesar ... and the Republic perishes,
- If you are victor.... That one fact ends all.
- Rome will be better ruled? There’s something more
- Than better rule, something for which men die.
- May I have grace to die so at the end,
- Grace to pursue my vision to the last,
- Though all my body is one sweat of blood;
- Grace to reach up and touch her garment’s hem
- And see her smile down in that last, black place
- Where the swords fall. I shall be happy then.
- All heaven and earth will be repaid to me,
- In that one glance, before the swords sweep down.
-
- Life is a dream and a rapture, life is a voice and a breath,
- A gust of wind and a darkness, puffed in the face of Death,
- Life is a treacherous river, a house that sinks in the sand,
- A gift that poisons the giver, a ring that withers the hand.
-
- Yet, when a man is mighty, that dream is more than the truth,
- That wailing wind in the darkness more bright than the fires of youth,
- The ring gives wisdom and power, the house stands up like a rock,
- The river roars from the mountains, and his foemen reel at its shock.
-
- These are our mighty fellows, we are akin to these,
- The men who burn on the deserts, who drown in the pathless seas,
- Not for gold or for power or gems some king has thieved,
- But simply to follow a vision, to see a dream achieved!
-
- So, though we stand beleaguered, though the foe comes on like the sea,
- Though slaves fall down as he passes, and helot bend at his knee,
- Though there is no escaping, though the last hope is gone,
- Here in the sight of all men we buckle our armor on!
-
- Whatever chances, Tullia is safe;
- I only risk myself ... and so, at last,
- I shall begin my letter ... yet I wonder
- If, after this, I shall see Formia
- Ever again.... No need to think of that!
- Tullia will be safe ... and Atticus;
- But, for the rest--I have lost many friends
- Already.... Bah! Come, let me get to work!...
- Tullia will be safe.... Hail, Atticus!
-
-
-
-
-DE BELLO CIVILI
-
-
-
-
-DE BELLO CIVILI
-
-[CAESAR. 49 B. C.]
-
-
- More letters? Lay them down here.
- Antony,
- Curio, Cicero--even Atticus--
- Well, what does Antony say, “Strike quick and hard!
- March your picked Gauls on Rome!” H’m? “All the city
- Is gone stark mad against you.” Oh, of course!
- “At the next meeting of the Senate”? Ah!
- “I will suggest both you and Pompey lay
- Aside your several commands.” All hangs
- On that one offer--If they should refuse,
- I strike at last!...
- Well, Curio, “Dare you not
- Give up the provinces? All would be well.
- It is the one thing Pompey now demands--
- Impossible of course--” Gods, Curio!
- “Give up the provinces”! For twenty years
- I have toiled up this hill--and now at last
- Stand here, proconsul of a barren land,
- A swarming, seething pot of plots and lies,
- Where every day brings forth a fresh revolt.
- Others had rich lands in the peaceful East,
- They fought with armies, I a people. Now,
- After nine years these Gauls are not subdued.
- I stand alone against a forest fire ...
- But even this they will not suffer, no,
- Not even that I waste my life in vain
- In these vast woods. They call me to return,
- “A private citizen as Pompey did.”
- No, to return disgraced, shut out forever
- From all great deeds....
- What say you, Cicero?
- “I know you do not want a civil war.”
- H’m. “Rome mistaken--.” H’m. “Why should you care
- For all these dogs that bark at great men’s heels?
- You say your foes are wrong--It may be so,
- At least they act with one thought in their minds,
- That you wish civil war for your own ends.
- Why not disprove them, strike them dumb, resign
- Your provinces!” and let them cut my throat!
- “Return to Rome a citizen. That one act
- Would make you just--immortal, and they, they,
- Would shrink back to their holes, never again
- To dare the splendor of the day and truth.
- Pompey is not against you. Him I know.
- And he would be as generous a friend
- As you could wish--resign his legions too--”
- Ah, Cicero!--What’s this, here at the end?
- “Remember the Republic! Caesar, Caesar!
- Gaze not in that Medusa’s face. Your soul
- Stands here at stake, you hold the fate of Rome
- In your two hands. Gaze not in that dread face!”
-
- Another letter! What ... from Calinus ...
- How our lives part ... and men part.... Why the last
- Time that I saw him was ... how long ago ...
- Ten ... twenty years ... on the white walls of Rhodes
- We talked that evening on the flat, wide roof
- Of the old merchant’s house where he was lodged.
- I was to leave tomorrow, and we lay
- Under the blazing stars. A brown slave girl
- Plucked at a lute whose drowsy murmur died
- Throbbingly into sweetness.... We were young
- And all our gorgeous dreams marched forth in state
- Past the great purple bales of Syrian rugs,
- Over the thin brown frails of dates, until
- The skies were full of color, great broad bands ...
- Crimson like pigeon’s blood, blue like the sea,
- Yellow like old, old ivory.... The stars waned.
- Next day we parted. Friend, friend of my youth,
- What have you now to say? Today I make
- The last decision, take one course of two,
- Be saved or lost ... friend ... friend ... friend of my youth....
-
- “Caesar, the swords are ready,
- The swords you have tempered long,
- War and peace are held in your hand,
- You stand at length where you longed to stand;
- By civil war you would heal a land,
- And by wrong you would better a wrong.
-
- Power and Strength and Empire,
- These are full mighty words.
- One thing, men’s Freedom, is higher than all.
- And better a hut though it totter and fall,
- A broken temple, a ruined wall,
- Than a land subdued by your swords!
-
- We have walked for a time together.
- The roads fork and we part.
- I follow my Lady of beauty and grace,
- Drunk with the light of her glorious face,
- And you, you go to your own place:
- And a poison breeds in your heart.
-
- I go with the Republic.
- The Empire stands by your side.
- You love her now. In a time not far
- You will look in your heart where your dead hopes are,
- And curse her for a lamia,
- The serpent you called bride.
-
- We part. Our ways are far henceforth.
- Henceforth our speech is with spears,
- I curse you not. Strive on for your prize
- Till the last thick darkness covers your eyes
- And the voice of the dead Republic cries
- Forever in your ears.
-
- Follow your foe o’er land and sea,
- River and bush and stone!
- When the end has come to the weary race
- And the slain man lies in his fated place,
- You shall draw the veil from the white dead face,
- And shriek, knowing your own!”
-
- Calinus ... Calinus ... To be saved or lost....
- What! Curio and Antony are without?
- Curio! Antony! Welcome!... What ... you say
- They drove you from the Senate?... I must make
- Decision now....
- Comrades! The die is cast!
- We march tomorrow on Ariminum!
-
-
-
-
-AFTER PHARSALIA
-
-
-
-
-AFTER PHARSALIA
-
-[POMPEY. 48 B. C.]
-
-
- So it is over; you have won at last,
- And our long struggle ends and with it Rome,
- The Rome that was the glory of the past,
- Whose stripped fleets ruled the seas, shaking the foam
- From their proud prows. They brought a freedom then.
- Freedom and the Republic. Once. No more.
-
- Well, it was fated, my most trusted men
- Failed me at need; as your chiefs will fail you,
- O Caesar! You I neither fear nor hate.
- We strove not with each other but with fate.
- Your followers will ruin what you do;
- Since you are honest, and will strive to make
- New laws and found an Empire, which, at least,
- Gives Justice equally to all. The stake
- Is high. They have sat long now at their feast,
- With Rome their pig-trough. They will conquer you;
- A hundred dwarfs, pulling a giant down.
- The problem is too great, the time not ripe
- For its solution.
- We have fought, we two!
- For the Republic I, you for your crown,
- Each one of his own cause the very type.
- Though both of us have failed, your cause yet rules,
- Your Empire.
- Any fool can govern fools.
- To make fools rule themselves and do it well,
- That is the task. If you could rule forever,
- Caesar ... but little men will seize your work,
- Your great machine. There’s where the paths dissever!
- And Rome roars blindly down amid the murk
- To swift destruction....
- Still one chance remains
- Where my disbanded legions fill the plains
- Of Egypt. A bare chance. If that fails too,
- Why, “Here lies Cnæus Pompey, called the Great,
- He fought for the Republic, loved his wife,
- And climbed the ladder of swords that men call Life.”
-
- Stretching straight from the viewless Pit,
- To the skies that are shamed because of it,
- Lit with a blue and hungry fire,
- That blasts like the breath of fulfilled Desire,
- Glory and Shame in its secret hoards,
- It stands supreme, the Ladder of Swords!
-
- _You must climb it?_ Aye, with all men born!
- _When?_ When you reel from the common scorn,
- When utter Defeat has gripped you fast,
- And your life goes down in the dark at last;
- When the things you builded dissolve like mist,
- And Love has broken his faith and tryst,
- And your body strains at the torturers’ cords,
- You have come at last to the Ladder of Swords!
-
- _Will you find a friend?_ One friend alone,
- Flesh of your flesh and bone of your bone,
- The last strange Courage that mocks Despair,
- That hunts the wolf with the wounded hare,
- That throws your life in the jaws of death
- To snatch it back in a single breath.
- Blinded no longer by pomp and words,
- You shall go up stark to the Ladder of Swords!
-
- Though your torn feet slip on the bloody steel,
- Though your body faint and your senses reel,
- Dizzied with agony, blind and numb,
- You shall crawl the rungs till the end is come;
- Though the sun flare out and the heavens crack,
- Nor god nor devil can turn you back!
- This is the prize that Defeat accords!
- Courage! Courage! The Ladder of Swords!
-
- Yes, by the gods! Caesar, the day is yours,
- You rule the world--while you debauch the State.
- Yet, somewhere, beyond all, there still endures,
- That pure Republic: and its white walls shine,
- Proudly, a dream no conquests can dispel.
- Your hosts toil uselessly; no force can take
- Those walls. Your legionaries break and break,
- In vain. Ever, before each bleeding line,
- It rises still, the Vision Invincible!
-
-
-
-
-TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES:
-
-
- Italicized text is surrounded by underscores: _italics_.
-
- Obvious typographical errors have been corrected.
-
-
-
-
-
-End of Project Gutenberg's Five Men and Pompey, by Stephen Vincent Benét
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-<pre>
-
-The Project Gutenberg EBook of Five Men and Pompey, by Stephen Vincent Benét
-
-This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most
-other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions
-whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of
-the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at
-www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have
-to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook.
-
-Title: Five Men and Pompey
- A Series of Dramatic Portraits
-
-Author: Stephen Vincent Benét
-
-Release Date: June 26, 2020 [EBook #62494]
-
-Language: English
-
-Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
-
-*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FIVE MEN AND POMPEY ***
-
-
-
-
-Produced by Tim Lindell, David E. Brown, and the Online
-Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This
-file was produced from images generously made available
-by The Internet Archive/Canadian Libraries)
-
-
-
-
-
-
-</pre>
-
-
-
-<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/cover.jpg" alt="" /></div>
-<hr class="chap" />
-
-
-
-
-
-<p class="center"><span class="large"><b>THE COVER DESIGN IS BY ELIHU VEDDER</b></span></p>
-
-<hr class="chap" />
-
-
-<div class="chapter">
-
-<h2 class="nobreak">UNIFORM WITH THIS VOLUME</h2></div>
-
-<hr class="tiny" />
-
-<table border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="2" summary="table">
-
-
-<tr><td><span class="smcap">Laodice and Dana</span></td><td class="tdr"> <i>Play in Verse</i></td></tr>
-<tr><td class="tdl">By <i>Gordon Bottomley</i></td></tr>
-
-<tr><td><span class="smcap">Images&mdash;Old and New</span></td><td class="tdr"> <i>Poems</i></td></tr>
-<tr><td class="tdl">By <i>Richard Aldington</i></td></tr>
-
-<tr><td><span class="smcap">The English Tongue and Other Poems</span></td></tr>
-<tr><td class="tdl">By <i>Lewis Worthington Smith</i></td></tr>
-
-<tr><td><span class="smcap">Five Men and Pompey</span></td><td class="tdr"> <i>Dramatic Portraits</i></td></tr>
-<tr><td class="tdl">By <i>Stephen Vincent Bent</i></td></tr>
-
-<tr><td><span class="smcap">Horizons</span></td><td class="tdr"> <i>Poems</i></td></tr>
-<tr><td class="tdl">By <i>Robert Alden Sanborn</i></td></tr>
-
-<tr><td><span class="smcap">The Tragedy</span></td><td class="tdr"> <i>A Fantasy in Verse</i></td></tr>
-<tr><td class="tdl">By <i>Gilbert Moyle</i></td></tr>
-</table>
-
-<hr class="chap" />
-
-<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_title.jpg" alt="" /></div>
-
-<hr class="tb" />
-
-<div class="titlepage">
-
-
-<h1>FIVE MEN AND POMPEY</h1>
-
-<p><span class="xlarge"><i>A Series of Dramatic Portraits</i></span></p>
-
-<p>BY<br />
-<span class="large">STEPHEN VINCENT BENT</span></p>
-
-<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_titlelogo.jpg" alt="" /></div>
-
-<p><span class="smcap">Boston<br />
-The Four Seas Company</span><br />
-1915</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<hr class="chap" />
-
-
-<p class="center">
-<i>Copyright, 1915, by</i><br />
-THE FOUR SEAS COMPANY<br />
-<br />
-THE FOUR SEAS PRESS<br />
-BOSTON AND NORWOOD</p>
-
-<hr class="chap" />
-
-
-
-
-<div class="chapter">
-
-<h2 class="nobreak">CONTENTS</h2></div>
-
-
-
-
-<table border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="2" summary="table">
-
-<tr><td><span class="smcap">The Last Banquet</span></td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_9"> 9</a></td></tr>
-
-<tr><td><span class="smcap">Lucullus Dines</span>&mdash; </td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_17"> 17</a></td></tr>
-
-<tr><td><span class="smcap">The Forlorn Campaign &nbsp; &nbsp;</span> </td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_23"> 23</a></td></tr>
-
-<tr><td><span class="smcap">Ad Atticum</span> </td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_31"> 31</a></td></tr>
-
-<tr><td><span class="smcap">De Bello Civili</span> </td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_37"> 37</a></td></tr>
-
-<tr><td><span class="smcap">After Pharsalia</span> </td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_45"> 45</a></td></tr>
-</table>
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-<hr class="chap" />
-
-
-
-<div class="chapter">
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[7]</a></span>
-<h2 class="nobreak">THE LAST BANQUET</h2></div>
-
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[8]</a></span></p>
-<hr class="chap" />
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[9]</a></span></p>
-
-
-<p class="ph1">THE LAST BANQUET</p>
-
-<p class="center">[<small>SERTORIUS SPEAKS. B. C.</small> 72]</p>
-
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Twelve years! Twelve years of striving! and at last</div>
-<div class="verse">My power is&mdash;secure? Still Pompey lives</div>
-<div class="verse">And has an army and Metellus strives</div>
-<div class="verse">To wipe out his defeats. The net is cast:</div>
-<div class="verse">Cast, and draws ever tighter: and my men</div>
-<div class="verse">Grumble and mutter, near to mutiny.</div>
-<div class="verse">Perpenna stirs up treason: like a fen</div>
-<div class="verse">Of black and quaking marshes, my own camp</div>
-<div class="verse">Boils up all foulness, gapes to swallow me.</div>
-<div class="verse">The black death-chariot waits, the coursers stamp&mdash;</div>
-<div class="verse">Yet I have made a law, have curbed the tribes,</div>
-<div class="verse">Built up a senate, founded schools, withstood</div>
-<div class="verse">For twelve long years the iron arm of Rome.</div>
-<div class="verse">I have not spared my time, my gold, my blood.</div>
-<div class="verse">And now all vanishes in plots and gibes&mdash;</div>
-<div class="verse">I love this warm, brown land; it is my home.</div>
-<div class="verse">And yet&mdash;to see the Forum once again!</div>
-<div class="verse">Ah, Nydia! Nydia! Had you not died</div>
-<div class="verse">I could have crossed the Alps, have crushed these men,</div>
-<div class="verse">These unclean vultures, tearing at Rome&#8217;s side;</div>
-<div class="verse">I could have brought back the Republic&mdash;then.</div>
-<div class="verse">You died. I still fight on, but I am old.</div>
-<div class="verse">Pompey is young, and though I beat him now,</div>
-<div class="verse">He will be victor, as the end will show.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[10]</a></span>
-<div class="verse">Ah, Plancus, enter! Is the night so cold</div>
-<div class="verse">That you need shroud yourself in that great cloak?</div>
-<div class="verse">You too, Perpenna, Cimon, you who broke</div>
-<div class="verse">So bravely through the foe, you fear a draught?</div>
-<div class="verse">Be seated, friends!</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="indent9">My comrades, we have laughed</div>
-<div class="verse">And feasted for an hour together, yet</div>
-<div class="verse">I have not told you why I summoned thus</div>
-<div class="verse">My ten most trusted leaders to this feast.</div>
-<div class="verse">Now is the time! I shall discharge the debt.</div>
-<div class="verse">Glorious tidings come from out the East!</div>
-<div class="verse">And Mithridates hurries aid to us&mdash;</div>
-<div class="verse">Let not that goblet fall I pray thee, friend!&mdash;</div>
-<div class="verse">Ah! Dog and traitor! So this was your end!</div>
-<div class="verse">Guards! Guards!&mdash;I think you will not rise again,</div>
-<div class="verse">Perpenna, from that blow! Guards! Ho there, men!</div>
-<div class="verse">A-a-ah! Thank you, Pompey! No, you will not take</div>
-<div class="verse">Me back to grace your triumph: they have done</div>
-<div class="verse">Their work too well, your friends. My sands are run.</div>
-<div class="verse">And you have burst all barriers left to break</div>
-<div class="verse">That shielded the Republic. It is dead.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Not with a pomp of banners,</div>
-<div class="verse">Not with a flare of spears,</div>
-<div class="verse">Not with mourning or head downcast</div>
-<div class="verse">The great Republic dies at last;</div>
-<div class="verse">A sword in the heart and the hands bound fast,</div>
-<div class="verse">Dead in the wreck of the years!</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[11]</a></span>
-<div class="verse">Pompey, Pompey, chief of pride,</div>
-<div class="verse">Hero and lord of Rome!</div>
-<div class="verse">You ride to a gallant triumph now,</div>
-<div class="verse">Gay as the green and fruitful bough;</div>
-<div class="verse">But the bough will be withered and dry enow</div>
-<div class="verse">When you ride for the last time home!</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Pompey, Pompey, laugh while you may!</div>
-<div class="verse">Laugh as Polycrates laughed!</div>
-<div class="verse">But ever, when life is most glorious,</div>
-<div class="verse">I bid you think of Sertorius,</div>
-<div class="verse">Of how he rode forth victorious,</div>
-<div class="verse">And how he was slain by craft.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">I have been slain by great lords;</div>
-<div class="verse">But a slave shall strike you down,</div>
-<div class="verse">A slave shall strike you down from behind,</div>
-<div class="verse">And your strength shall fail, and your sight go blind,</div>
-<div class="verse">And your body a nameless grave shall find,</div>
-<div class="verse">You, that strove for a crown!</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Pompey, Pompey, turn where you may!</div>
-<div class="verse">You shall get but little ease.</div>
-<div class="verse">For whether on sea or whether on land,</div>
-<div class="verse">One picture shall ever before you stand&mdash;</div>
-<div class="verse">A man struck down on a barren strand&mdash;</div>
-<div class="verse">A head hacked off by the seas!</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Pompey, Pompey, go where you will,</div>
-<div class="verse">Double and turn again!</div>
-<div class="verse">One thought shall you know till you lie in your grave;</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[12]</a></span>
-<div class="verse">A thought not even your soul can brave!&mdash;</div>
-<div class="verse">The thought of a mean and evil slave,</div>
-<div class="verse">And a knife that was forged in Spain!</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">So the Republic dies! and all my work</div>
-<div class="verse">Is vain; the things I built are shattered now,</div>
-<div class="verse">My task is done, the task I dared not shirk;</div>
-<div class="verse">And I am very tired. Nydia, come!</div>
-<div class="verse">Come as you came that day down the green walk,</div>
-<div class="verse">The day I rode in triumph back to Rome,</div>
-<div class="verse">After the Cimbri had been crushed&mdash;and talk,</div>
-<div class="verse">Talk as we talked that day beside the pool,</div>
-<div class="verse">Shadowed by ilex, where the golden hearts</div>
-<div class="verse">Of lilies burned within the water cool,&mdash;</div>
-<div class="verse">Nydia! But she stays not, she departs!</div>
-<div class="verse">The marble seat&mdash;you lifted up your face&mdash;</div>
-<div class="verse">I have fought long now. I am weary. Come!</div>
-<div class="verse">Nydia! Nydia! and lead me home!</div>
-<div class="verse">Home! How the Forum blazes in the sun!</div>
-<div class="verse">The Roman faces and the kindly speech;</div>
-<div class="verse">The melon-sellers, proffering to each</div>
-<div class="verse">That comes, ripe, green-streaked melons&mdash;What! you shun</div>
-<div class="verse">An old friend, Balbus? No! It was not I!</div>
-<div class="verse">No! by the gods! I never gave consent</div>
-<div class="verse">To those red days of massacre!&mdash;&mdash;They cry!</div>
-<div class="verse">Oh gods! they cry, cry, they are not yet dead!</div>
-<div class="verse">They <i>will</i> not die: they hurl upon my head</div>
-<div class="verse">Curses and prayers! I hear them in my tent!</div>
-<div class="verse">They are not dead! Oh gods! They are not dead!</div>
-<div class="verse">I never gave consent!</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[13]</a></span>
-<div class="indent12">Still the time slips</div>
-<div class="verse">And Nydia comes not. I am very tired.</div>
-<div class="verse">The things are broken to which I aspired,</div>
-<div class="verse">And you alone are left. Love! She is here</div>
-<div class="verse">Nydia, Nydia....</div>
-</div></div></div>
-
-
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[14]</a></span></p>
-<hr class="chap" />
-
-
-
-<div class="chapter">
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[15]</a></span>
-<h2 class="nobreak">LUCULLUS DINES&mdash;</h2></div>
-
-
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[16]</a></span></p>
-<hr class="chap" />
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[17]</a></span></p>
-
-
-
-
-
-<p class="ph1">LUCULLUS DINES&mdash;</p>
-
-<p class="center">[59 <small>B. C.</small>]</p>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">I dine in the Apollo room tonight,</div>
-<div class="verse">With Cicero and Pompey! See to it!</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Cicero! Pompey! But ten years ago</div>
-<div class="verse">Lucullus was the hero, Conqueror</div>
-<div class="verse">Of Mithridates, Rescuer of Rome!</div>
-<div class="verse">All&#8217;s Pompey now; he goes far&mdash;and has gone;</div>
-<div class="verse">And, with it all, is just the honest, brave,</div>
-<div class="verse">Young captain that I saw that hot, raw, day;</div>
-<div class="verse">The first day of my shame. Oh gods, gods, gods!</div>
-<div class="verse">Must Rome have always victories, victories,</div>
-<div class="verse">Incredible conquests till the whole world reels,</div>
-<div class="verse">And still thrust traps into my path until</div>
-<div class="verse">I fall at last?</div>
-<div class="indent8">When Pompey came I knew.</div>
-<div class="verse">Oh he was kind, quite kind, considerate</div>
-<div class="verse">Of the old bitter man there who had failed,</div>
-<div class="verse">Recalled without a triumph! He was kind</div>
-<div class="verse">In all his splendid, conquering, strength and youth!</div>
-<div class="verse">Yet, I had beaten Mithridates. So</div>
-<div class="verse">Let the old lion growl through teeth once sharp!</div>
-<div class="verse">This sordid squabble of a vulgar crowd</div>
-<div class="verse">Of stiff patricians, ranting demagogues,</div>
-<div class="verse">Serves well for others. I, I have my trees,</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[18]</a></span>
-<div class="verse">My cherries, rooted firm in Roman soil,</div>
-<div class="verse">Shedding a delicate whiteness on the hills</div>
-<div class="verse">When spring comes. A far greater triumph that</div>
-<div class="verse">Than all my conquests.</div>
-<div class="indent12">Yes, they know me well,</div>
-<div class="verse">These young men, &#8220;That old dragon on the hill,</div>
-<div class="verse">Who gives such gorgeous dinners. Gods, his wines!</div>
-<div class="verse">Fit for Apollo!&#8221;</div>
-<div class="indent8">Yes, an excellent host,</div>
-<div class="verse">Learned in sauces, skilled in oysters, game;</div>
-<div class="verse">Within whose heart no spark of ancient fire</div>
-<div class="verse">Burns on.... Oh Power! Power! Once to lead</div>
-<div class="verse">An army, once again, and see the thick</div>
-<div class="verse">Rain of the Parthian arrows and the blaze</div>
-<div class="verse">As forty brazen cohorts broke the foe!</div>
-<div class="verse">The thin lines buckle, the black masses fly!</div>
-<div class="verse"><i>Imperator Romanus!</i></div>
-<div class="indent11">No, Lucullus,</div>
-<div class="verse">But the good host who&mdash;plants his cherry-trees!</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Love? I have loved once, once.... That awful day</div>
-<div class="verse">We stormed in through the gates of Amisus....</div>
-<div class="verse">The loot-mad soldiers, howling, smote the town</div>
-<div class="verse">Down in a mud of blood and dirt and wine,</div>
-<div class="verse">Bodies and gold and priceless tapestries.</div>
-<div class="verse">Half-mad I rushed to stop them, beat and struck;</div>
-<div class="verse">I think they would have murdered me at once,</div>
-<div class="verse">But that one drunkard yelled &#8220;The General!</div>
-<div class="verse">Lower your swords, lads! Sir, we won this town!</div>
-<div class="verse">You take your pleasures and let us take ours!&#8221;</div>
-<div class="verse">I reeled into the blackness of an arch,</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[19]</a></span>
-<div class="verse">And saw before me, white-robed, laurel-crowned,</div>
-<div class="verse">Just such a maiden as might once have danced</div>
-<div class="verse">Along the friezes of the Parthenon;</div>
-<div class="verse">A face like that on an old silver coin,</div>
-<div class="verse">Demetrius sent me, clear-cut, beautiful</div>
-<div class="verse">With all the burning beauty of the Greek.</div>
-<div class="verse">Pure and serene her grey eyes gazed in mine....</div>
-<div class="verse">We spoke few words; what need to speak at all</div>
-<div class="verse">When just our eyes told all we had to tell,</div>
-<div class="verse">There in the soft, cool blackness, splashed with light</div>
-<div class="verse">From the red pools of burning wine without?</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Few words. They chime like little silver bells</div>
-<div class="verse">Within my heart now, or like trumpet blasts</div>
-<div class="verse">Bear up my soul a little towards the gods.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">We had three years. She died before my fall.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="indent2">I thought of love as a crooked knife,</div>
-<div class="indent2">As a soft and passionate lord;</div>
-<div class="indent2">Born when the kings&#8217; beards dipped in wine</div>
-<div class="indent2">And the gold cups clashed on the board.</div>
-<div class="indent2">But my love came like a blast of cold,</div>
-<div class="indent2">A straight, clean, sword.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="indent2">I thought of love as a secret thing,</div>
-<div class="indent2">For an hour of incensed ease,</div>
-<div class="indent2">When breast and breast together cling,</div>
-<div class="indent2">Under sweet-scented trees.</div>
-<div class="indent2">My love is all good-comradeship,</div>
-<div class="indent2">More great than these.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[20]</a></span>
-<div class="indent2">I thought of love as a toy for a day,</div>
-<div class="indent2">Soon to be over-passed;</div>
-<div class="indent2">Light and frail as a hollow shell,</div>
-<div class="indent2">That into the brook is cast.</div>
-<div class="indent2">My love holds while the earth endures,</div>
-<div class="indent2">And the suns stand fast.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="indent2">I thought of love as mixed with earth,</div>
-<div class="indent2">One with the bloom of the sods.</div>
-<div class="indent2">My love is air and wine and fire,</div>
-<div class="indent2">Breaker of metes and rods,</div>
-<div class="indent2">A slender javelin tipped with light,</div>
-<div class="indent2">Hurled at the gods.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Life lies before me like a platter of coins.</div>
-<div class="verse">&#8220;Here are the new ones! Mark the choice design!&#8221;</div>
-<div class="verse">All cry: for me the others fade and dim,</div>
-<div class="verse">And one alone shines clear, an old Greek coin</div>
-<div class="verse">Demetrius sent me ... and that lovely face....</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Pompey would say that I am growing old,</div>
-<div class="verse">And Cicero would turn a phrase with me</div>
-<div class="verse">In his next great oration, as a type</div>
-<div class="verse">Of the old fool who mumbles of days past.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Meanwhile I have my orchards&mdash;and my feasts.</div>
-<div class="verse">Those turbot now; the sauce is very good,</div>
-<div class="verse">A peacock&#8217;s breast is good, too, at this time,</div>
-<div class="verse">With other things, as&mdash;&mdash;old Falernian,</div>
-<div class="verse">Tarentine oysters, and sweet wines from Thrace....</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Tarentine oysters and sweet wines from Thrace.</div>
-</div></div></div>
-
-
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[21]</a></span></p>
-
-<hr class="chap" />
-
-
-
-
-
-<div class="chapter">
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[22]</a></span>
-<h2 class="nobreak">THE FORLORN CAMPAIGN</h2></div>
-
-<hr class="chap" />
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[23]</a></span></p>
-<p class="ph1">THE FORLORN CAMPAIGN</p>
-
-<p class="center">[<small>CRASSUS IN PARTHIA. B. C.</small> 53]</p>
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Go then, Valerius. Let the legions know,</div>
-<div class="verse">That I will answer this new embassy</div>
-<div class="verse">Within the hour.... They will mutiny,</div>
-<div class="verse">If I refuse these terms.... What shall I do?</div>
-<div class="verse"><i>What shall I do?</i> The trap is plain enough</div>
-<div class="verse">To me; but they, they only see the rough,</div>
-<div class="verse">Long road and the red, ever-circling cloud</div>
-<div class="verse">Of horsemen, raining arrows on them there.</div>
-<div class="verse">Gods! And the mountains are so near, so near!</div>
-<div class="verse">Scarce three days march ... that we shall never make.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">I boasted once. The gods like not the proud.</div>
-<div class="verse">And I shall die in this red waste of sand,</div>
-<div class="verse">Though my heart tremble and my stiff limbs shake.</div>
-<div class="verse">A thousand slaves bowed down at my command;</div>
-<div class="verse">I lived in ivory palaces of delight;</div>
-<div class="verse">I ruled an empire ... here is all my might;</div>
-<div class="verse">An old and wearied man in a bare tent,</div>
-<div class="verse">Whence, presently, I shall go out to die.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">How they will rage at Rome! Each will outvie</div>
-<div class="verse">The next in fury: none will dare lament.</div>
-<div class="verse">Caesar will listen with a little smile,</div>
-<div class="verse">A smile like two blue ice-cliffs as they part,</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[24]</a></span>
-<div class="verse">Slow-rising from the deep caves of his heart.</div>
-<div class="verse">Pompey will bow his great gold head awhile,</div>
-<div class="verse">And say, &#8220;He died a Roman. It is well.&#8221;</div>
-<div class="verse">Perhaps be sad, a little. For the rest,</div>
-<div class="verse">That yelping pack of nobles, they will howl</div>
-<div class="verse">How, &#8220;Crassus was a madman at the best,</div>
-<div class="verse">And in this last attempt, a blind old owl,</div>
-<div class="verse">A drink-crazed miser with a wooden sword.</div>
-<div class="verse">He blundered here and here! His whole campaign</div>
-<div class="verse">Was one great blunder!&#8221; So with one accord,</div>
-<div class="verse">They howl.</div>
-<div class="indent8">To praise is hard, easy to damn.</div>
-<div class="verse">I failed in this. Some other will succeed.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Yet they are right, in part. That day, far back,</div>
-<div class="verse">When by the borderline I checked my steed....</div>
-<div class="verse">Our spies had said the Parthian army lay</div>
-<div class="verse">Encamped near by and ready for the fray.</div>
-<div class="verse">We found no army; nothing but a track,</div>
-<div class="verse">Thousands of footprints stamped in the red sand,</div>
-<div class="verse">Where a great host had passed. A sudden fear</div>
-<div class="verse">Seized on the legions and on every hand</div>
-<div class="verse">The men shrank back.... No foe stood anywhere,</div>
-<div class="verse">Nothing but scarlet sand and brassy sky,</div>
-<div class="verse">And men aghast at signs traced on the ground,</div>
-<div class="verse">A ring of white, scared faces, without sound.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Then afterwards, there came that burning march</div>
-<div class="verse">Under a sky of flame, continually.</div>
-<div class="verse">Our very armor seemed to shrink and parch</div>
-<div class="verse">Beneath that sun; our tongues grew swelled and black;</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[25]</a></span>
-<div class="verse">And ever circling, circling, front and back,</div>
-<div class="verse">The Parthians galloped in a cloud of dust.</div>
-<div class="verse">They would not turn and fight but slew us thus.</div>
-<div class="verse">Their bitter arrows came like hail on us.</div>
-<div class="verse">Our strongest dropped and died without a blow.</div>
-<div class="verse">Then, beyond Carrh, trusting in our woe,</div>
-<div class="verse">They turned at last and stood to wait our thrust.</div>
-<div class="verse">But two things I remember of that fight.</div>
-<div class="verse">How Publius went out&mdash;the burning light</div>
-<div class="verse">Smote on his armor, turning it to gold,</div>
-<div class="verse">Save where, a sunset cloud, his red cloak rolled;</div>
-<div class="verse">And in his face was joy and keen delight,</div>
-<div class="verse">Youth and a boy&#8217;s high heart and great resolves....</div>
-<div class="verse">A golden knight he stood, a golden knight....</div>
-<div class="verse">He rides away, the crimson cloud dissolves....</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">One other picture burns within my brain,</div>
-<div class="verse">Like white-hot sand; and will burn now until</div>
-<div class="verse">I go into the trap tonight.... Again</div>
-<div class="verse">The dust cloud rose, and from a little hill</div>
-<div class="verse">I saw the sheen of spearheads at its rim,</div>
-<div class="verse">And near the rim a spot of black that grew,</div>
-<div class="verse">Grew, grew, till earth and sky alike were dim;</div>
-<div class="verse">For there was nought but it in earth and sky....</div>
-<div class="verse">Nought but a black, dead, face ... a face I knew....</div>
-<div class="verse">The lips were bloody ... down upon the pike</div>
-<div class="verse">Dripped long slow drops like tears.... I hear them now,</div>
-<div class="verse">Gathering, hanging.... Gods! they strike and strike!...</div>
-<div class="verse">Dripping forever on my naked heart....</div>
-<div class="verse">Great tears of blood.... Once, very long ago,</div>
-<div class="verse">I had a son.... How glad he seemed to start</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[26]</a></span>
-<div class="verse">On that attack!... No ... no ... I shall go mad!</div>
-<div class="verse">I must not think how glad he was!... how glad....</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">We fell back towards the mountains. Cassius took</div>
-<div class="verse">Another way. He may be slain or safe,</div>
-<div class="verse">I know not; for myself, my legious chafe</div>
-<div class="verse">And mutiny, I die here. But as I look</div>
-<div class="verse">So close to death, I see that what I strove</div>
-<div class="verse">To do will yet be done and Rome shall rule</div>
-<div class="verse">Forever o&#8217;er the bloody road I clove.</div>
-<div class="verse">I break ... but she will find another tool.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Ere the first sword was sharpened and the first trumpet blown</div>
-<div class="verse">Rome looked upon the new-made lands and marked them for her own!</div>
-<div class="verse">Ere the first ship was timbered and the first rudder hung</div>
-<div class="verse">Rome held the oceans in her hands, splendid and stern and young!</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">The wild tribes bend before her, the kings are overthrown,</div>
-<div class="verse">The purple empires of the East before her feet fall down.</div>
-<div class="verse">From strange barbaric countries her captains bring her spoil,</div>
-<div class="verse">Treasures of gems and ivory, spices and wines and oil.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Wheat grows for her in Egypt; for her the Greek scribes write,</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[27]</a></span>
-<div class="verse">For her the diver dares the shark, the fowler scales the height,</div>
-<div class="verse">To feed her great arenas the bold beast-tamer quakes</div>
-<div class="verse">Among the tawny lions or the hissing pits of snakes.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Her legions march in Asia, they tramp through Farthest Gaul,</div>
-<div class="verse">In Greece their horns blow up the dawn, in Spain they stand a wall.</div>
-<div class="verse">And still upon her Seven Hills Rome rules the seas and tides,</div>
-<div class="verse">The earth and all that in it is, while that stern strength abides.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Hail for the last time, Mother! Your sons stand here at bay.</div>
-<div class="verse">Still you have sons for conquest. We fall the Roman way!</div>
-<div class="verse">Our cheers still ringing, our short swords drawn,</div>
-<div class="verse">We die here singing, but Rome, Rome goes on!</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Ah! Yes, Valerius, I will answer them.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Comrades! I know these terms are but a trap:</div>
-<div class="verse">Yet I would rather die by Parthian swords</div>
-<div class="verse">Than Roman.</div>
-<div class="indent9">After I am dead push on,</div>
-<div class="verse">Straight to the mountains; once the heights are won,</div>
-<div class="verse">You can defy at last these swarming hordes.</div>
-<div class="verse">Break camp at once to guard against mishap.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[28]</a></span>
-<div class="verse">Farewell! Valerius is your general now....</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Up there, you say, upon that hillock&#8217;s brow</div>
-<div class="verse">They wait?... Yes, I can see the glint of steel....</div>
-</div></div></div>
-
-<hr class="chap" />
-
-
-
-<div class="chapter">
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[29]</a></span>
-<h2 class="nobreak">AD ATTICUM</h2></div>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[30]</a></span></p>
-<hr class="chap" />
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[31]</a></span></p>
-<p class="ph1">AD ATTICUM</p>
-
-<p class="center">[<small>CICERO.</small> 48 <small>B. C.</small>]</p>
-
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">How hot it is! Faint waves of heat steam up</div>
-<div class="verse">From the burnt sand without, like threads of glass,</div>
-<div class="verse">Blurring the vision. In the dark, cool rooms</div>
-<div class="verse">Within, all are asleep, and not a sound</div>
-<div class="verse">Breaks the tense stillness.... Why should I not sleep?</div>
-<div class="verse">This letter here, to Atticus, can wait....</div>
-<div class="verse">No! I had better write it now, this court</div>
-<div class="verse">Is cool enough, the plashing fountain pleasant,</div>
-<div class="verse">Stylus and tablets on the table there....</div>
-<div class="verse">Let me begin!... Where did I buy this style?</div>
-<div class="verse">Oh yes, at Patras, where we had to leave</div>
-<div class="verse">Poor Tiro sick&mdash;well, he is better now&mdash;</div>
-<div class="verse">And, Jupiter be thanked! I have escaped</div>
-<div class="verse">Safely from that accursed province! Gods!</div>
-<div class="verse">Now, even now, the names ring in my brain,</div>
-<div class="verse">The petty lawsuits which I must adjudge,</div>
-<div class="verse">The protests from the people, stricken down</div>
-<div class="verse">Under a shameful load of usury,</div>
-<div class="verse">Oppressed by every Roman thief that crept</div>
-<div class="verse">Into some petty office. Gods, those trials!</div>
-<div class="verse">They made me old before my time. That case</div>
-<div class="verse">Between Valerius and Volusius!</div>
-<div class="verse">And Brutus, the immaculate, with his interest</div>
-<div class="verse">Of forty-eight per cent!</div>
-<div class="indent13">What shall I say</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[32]</a></span>
-<div class="verse">To Atticus? &#8220;Caesar and I are friends.&#8221;</div>
-<div class="verse">Or, &#8220;Next week I shall sail from Formia</div>
-<div class="verse">And seek out Pompey.&#8221;</div>
-<div class="indent11">There they stand, gouged plain</div>
-<div class="verse">On the smooth wax. I rub them both out&mdash;so!</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Caesar, which shall I write? I was your friend.</div>
-<div class="verse">Pompey has helped me always. Over all</div>
-<div class="verse">Stands Rome. This war I hate as I hate Hell,</div>
-<div class="verse">And yet must take one side.... You made the war,</div>
-<div class="verse">Caesar ... and the Republic perishes,</div>
-<div class="verse">If you are victor.... That one fact ends all.</div>
-<div class="verse">Rome will be better ruled? There&#8217;s something more</div>
-<div class="verse">Than better rule, something for which men die.</div>
-<div class="verse">May I have grace to die so at the end,</div>
-<div class="verse">Grace to pursue my vision to the last,</div>
-<div class="verse">Though all my body is one sweat of blood;</div>
-<div class="verse">Grace to reach up and touch her garment&#8217;s hem</div>
-<div class="verse">And see her smile down in that last, black place</div>
-<div class="verse">Where the swords fall. I shall be happy then.</div>
-<div class="verse">All heaven and earth will be repaid to me,</div>
-<div class="verse">In that one glance, before the swords sweep down.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Life is a dream and a rapture, life is a voice and a breath,</div>
-<div class="verse">A gust of wind and a darkness, puffed in the face of Death,</div>
-<div class="verse">Life is a treacherous river, a house that sinks in the sand,</div>
-<div class="verse">A gift that poisons the giver, a ring that withers the hand.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[33]</a></span>
-<div class="verse">Yet, when a man is mighty, that dream is more than the truth,</div>
-<div class="verse">That wailing wind in the darkness more bright than the fires of youth,</div>
-<div class="verse">The ring gives wisdom and power, the house stands up like a rock,</div>
-<div class="verse">The river roars from the mountains, and his foemen reel at its shock.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">These are our mighty fellows, we are akin to these,</div>
-<div class="verse">The men who burn on the deserts, who drown in the pathless seas,</div>
-<div class="verse">Not for gold or for power or gems some king has thieved,</div>
-<div class="verse">But simply to follow a vision, to see a dream achieved!</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">So, though we stand beleaguered, though the foe comes on like the sea,</div>
-<div class="verse">Though slaves fall down as he passes, and helot bend at his knee,</div>
-<div class="verse">Though there is no escaping, though the last hope is gone,</div>
-<div class="verse">Here in the sight of all men we buckle our armor on!</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Whatever chances, Tullia is safe;</div>
-<div class="verse">I only risk myself ... and so, at last,</div>
-<div class="verse">I shall begin my letter ... yet I wonder</div>
-<div class="verse">If, after this, I shall see Formia</div>
-<div class="verse">Ever again.... No need to think of that!</div>
-<div class="verse">Tullia will be safe ... and Atticus;</div>
-<div class="verse">But, for the rest&mdash;I have lost many friends</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[34]</a></span>
-<div class="verse">Already.... Bah! Come, let me get to work!...</div>
-<div class="verse">Tullia will be safe.... Hail, Atticus!</div>
-</div></div></div>
-
-<hr class="chap" />
-
-
-
-<div class="chapter">
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[35]</a></span>
-<h2 class="nobreak">DE BELLO CIVILI</h2></div>
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[36]</a></span></p>
-
-<hr class="chap" />
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[37]</a></span></p>
-
-<p class="ph1">DE BELLO CIVILI</p>
-
-<p class="center">[<small>CAESAR.</small> 49 <small>B. C.</small>]</p>
-
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">More letters? Lay them down here.</div>
-<div class="indent18">Antony,</div>
-<div class="verse">Curio, Cicero&mdash;even Atticus&mdash;</div>
-<div class="verse">Well, what does Antony say, &#8220;Strike quick and hard!</div>
-<div class="verse">March your picked Gauls on Rome!&#8221; H&#8217;m? &#8220;All the city</div>
-<div class="verse">Is gone stark mad against you.&#8221; Oh, of course!</div>
-<div class="verse">&#8220;At the next meeting of the Senate&#8221;? Ah!</div>
-<div class="verse">&#8220;I will suggest both you and Pompey lay</div>
-<div class="verse">Aside your several commands.&#8221; All hangs</div>
-<div class="verse">On that one offer&mdash;If they should refuse,</div>
-<div class="verse">I strike at last!...</div>
-<div class="indent9">Well, Curio, &#8220;Dare you not</div>
-<div class="verse">Give up the provinces? All would be well.</div>
-<div class="verse">It is the one thing Pompey now demands&mdash;</div>
-<div class="verse">Impossible of course&mdash;&#8221; Gods, Curio!</div>
-<div class="verse">&#8220;Give up the provinces&#8221;! For twenty years</div>
-<div class="verse">I have toiled up this hill&mdash;and now at last</div>
-<div class="verse">Stand here, proconsul of a barren land,</div>
-<div class="verse">A swarming, seething pot of plots and lies,</div>
-<div class="verse">Where every day brings forth a fresh revolt.</div>
-<div class="verse">Others had rich lands in the peaceful East,</div>
-<div class="verse">They fought with armies, I a people. Now,</div>
-<div class="verse">After nine years these Gauls are not subdued.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[38]</a></span>
-<div class="verse">I stand alone against a forest fire ...</div>
-<div class="verse">But even this they will not suffer, no,</div>
-<div class="verse">Not even that I waste my life in vain</div>
-<div class="verse">In these vast woods. They call me to return,</div>
-<div class="verse">&#8220;A private citizen as Pompey did.&#8221;</div>
-<div class="verse">No, to return disgraced, shut out forever</div>
-<div class="verse">From all great deeds....</div>
-<div class="indent11">What say you, Cicero?</div>
-<div class="verse">&#8220;I know you do not want a civil war.&#8221;</div>
-<div class="verse">H&#8217;m. &#8220;Rome mistaken&mdash;.&#8221; H&#8217;m. &#8220;Why should you care</div>
-<div class="verse">For all these dogs that bark at great men&#8217;s heels?</div>
-<div class="verse">You say your foes are wrong&mdash;It may be so,</div>
-<div class="verse">At least they act with one thought in their minds,</div>
-<div class="verse">That you wish civil war for your own ends.</div>
-<div class="verse">Why not disprove them, strike them dumb, resign</div>
-<div class="verse">Your provinces!&#8221; and let them cut my throat!</div>
-<div class="verse">&#8220;Return to Rome a citizen. That one act</div>
-<div class="verse">Would make you just&mdash;immortal, and they, they,</div>
-<div class="verse">Would shrink back to their holes, never again</div>
-<div class="verse">To dare the splendor of the day and truth.</div>
-<div class="verse">Pompey is not against you. Him I know.</div>
-<div class="verse">And he would be as generous a friend</div>
-<div class="verse">As you could wish&mdash;resign his legions too&mdash;&#8221;</div>
-<div class="verse">Ah, Cicero!&mdash;What&#8217;s this, here at the end?</div>
-<div class="verse">&#8220;Remember the Republic! Caesar, Caesar!</div>
-<div class="verse">Gaze not in that Medusa&#8217;s face. Your soul</div>
-<div class="verse">Stands here at stake, you hold the fate of Rome</div>
-<div class="verse">In your two hands. Gaze not in that dread face!&#8221;</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Another letter! What ... from Calinus ...</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[39]</a></span>
-<div class="verse">How our lives part ... and men part.... Why the last</div>
-<div class="verse">Time that I saw him was ... how long ago ...</div>
-<div class="verse">Ten ... twenty years ... on the white walls of Rhodes</div>
-<div class="verse">We talked that evening on the flat, wide roof</div>
-<div class="verse">Of the old merchant&#8217;s house where he was lodged.</div>
-<div class="verse">I was to leave tomorrow, and we lay</div>
-<div class="verse">Under the blazing stars. A brown slave girl</div>
-<div class="verse">Plucked at a lute whose drowsy murmur died</div>
-<div class="verse">Throbbingly into sweetness.... We were young</div>
-<div class="verse">And all our gorgeous dreams marched forth in state</div>
-<div class="verse">Past the great purple bales of Syrian rugs,</div>
-<div class="verse">Over the thin brown frails of dates, until</div>
-<div class="verse">The skies were full of color, great broad bands ...</div>
-<div class="verse">Crimson like pigeon&#8217;s blood, blue like the sea,</div>
-<div class="verse">Yellow like old, old ivory.... The stars waned.</div>
-<div class="verse">Next day we parted. Friend, friend of my youth,</div>
-<div class="verse">What have you now to say? Today I make</div>
-<div class="verse">The last decision, take one course of two,</div>
-<div class="verse">Be saved or lost ... friend ... friend ... friend of my youth....</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="indent2">&#8220;Caesar, the swords are ready,</div>
-<div class="indent2">The swords you have tempered long,</div>
-<div class="indent2">War and peace are held in your hand,</div>
-<div class="indent2">You stand at length where you longed to stand;</div>
-<div class="indent2">By civil war you would heal a land,</div>
-<div class="indent2">And by wrong you would better a wrong.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="indent2">Power and Strength and Empire,</div>
-<div class="indent2">These are full mighty words.</div>
-<div class="indent2">One thing, men&#8217;s Freedom, is higher than all.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[40]</a></span>
-<div class="indent2">And better a hut though it totter and fall,</div>
-<div class="indent2">A broken temple, a ruined wall,</div>
-<div class="indent2">Than a land subdued by your swords!</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="indent2">We have walked for a time together.</div>
-<div class="indent2">The roads fork and we part.</div>
-<div class="indent2">I follow my Lady of beauty and grace,</div>
-<div class="indent2">Drunk with the light of her glorious face,</div>
-<div class="indent2">And you, you go to your own place:</div>
-<div class="indent2">And a poison breeds in your heart.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="indent2">I go with the Republic.</div>
-<div class="indent2">The Empire stands by your side.</div>
-<div class="indent2">You love her now. In a time not far</div>
-<div class="indent2">You will look in your heart where your dead hopes are,</div>
-<div class="indent2">And curse her for a lamia,</div>
-<div class="indent2">The serpent you called bride.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="indent2">We part. Our ways are far henceforth.</div>
-<div class="indent2">Henceforth our speech is with spears,</div>
-<div class="indent2">I curse you not. Strive on for your prize</div>
-<div class="indent2">Till the last thick darkness covers your eyes</div>
-<div class="indent2">And the voice of the dead Republic cries</div>
-<div class="indent2">Forever in your ears.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="indent2">Follow your foe o&#8217;er land and sea,</div>
-<div class="indent2">River and bush and stone!</div>
-<div class="indent2">When the end has come to the weary race</div>
-<div class="indent2">And the slain man lies in his fated place,</div>
-<div class="indent2">You shall draw the veil from the white dead face,</div>
-<div class="indent2">And shriek, knowing your own!&#8221;</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[41]</a></span>
-<div class="indent2">Calinus ... Calinus ... To be saved or lost....</div>
-<div class="indent2">What! Curio and Antony are without?</div>
-<div class="indent2">Curio! Antony! Welcome!... What ... you say</div>
-<div class="indent2">They drove you from the Senate?... I must make</div>
-<div class="indent2">Decision now....</div>
-<div class="indent11">Comrades! The die is cast!</div>
-<div class="indent2">We march tomorrow on Ariminum!</div>
-</div></div></div>
-
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[42]</a></span></p>
-<hr class="chap" />
-
-
-<div class="chapter">
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[43]</a></span>
-<h2 class="nobreak">AFTER PHARSALIA</h2></div>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[44]</a></span></p>
-<hr class="chap" />
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[45]</a></span></p>
-
-
-
-<p class="ph1">AFTER PHARSALIA</p>
-
-<p class="center">[<small>POMPEY.</small> 48 <small>B. C.</small>]</p>
-
-
-<div class="poetry-container">
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">So it is over; you have won at last,</div>
-<div class="verse">And our long struggle ends and with it Rome,</div>
-<div class="verse">The Rome that was the glory of the past,</div>
-<div class="verse">Whose stripped fleets ruled the seas, shaking the foam</div>
-<div class="verse">From their proud prows. They brought a freedom then.</div>
-<div class="verse">Freedom and the Republic. Once. No more.</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Well, it was fated, my most trusted men</div>
-<div class="verse">Failed me at need; as your chiefs will fail you,</div>
-<div class="verse">O Caesar! You I neither fear nor hate.</div>
-<div class="verse">We strove not with each other but with fate.</div>
-<div class="verse">Your followers will ruin what you do;</div>
-<div class="verse">Since you are honest, and will strive to make</div>
-<div class="verse">New laws and found an Empire, which, at least,</div>
-<div class="verse">Gives Justice equally to all. The stake</div>
-<div class="verse">Is high. They have sat long now at their feast,</div>
-<div class="verse">With Rome their pig-trough. They will conquer you;</div>
-<div class="verse">A hundred dwarfs, pulling a giant down.</div>
-<div class="verse">The problem is too great, the time not ripe</div>
-<div class="verse">For its solution.</div>
-<div class="indent9">We have fought, we two!</div>
-<div class="verse">For the Republic I, you for your crown,</div>
-<div class="verse">Each one of his own cause the very type.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[46]</a></span>
-<div class="verse">Though both of us have failed, your cause yet rules,</div>
-<div class="verse">Your Empire.</div>
-<div class="indent9">Any fool can govern fools.</div>
-<div class="verse">To make fools rule themselves and do it well,</div>
-<div class="verse">That is the task. If you could rule forever,</div>
-<div class="verse">Caesar ... but little men will seize your work,</div>
-<div class="verse">Your great machine. There&#8217;s where the paths dissever!</div>
-<div class="verse">And Rome roars blindly down amid the murk</div>
-<div class="verse">To swift destruction....</div>
-<div class="indent15">Still one chance remains</div>
-<div class="verse">Where my disbanded legions fill the plains</div>
-<div class="verse">Of Egypt. A bare chance. If that fails too,</div>
-<div class="verse">Why, &#8220;Here lies Cnus Pompey, called the Great,</div>
-<div class="verse">He fought for the Republic, loved his wife,</div>
-<div class="verse">And climbed the ladder of swords that men call Life.&#8221;</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Stretching straight from the viewless Pit,</div>
-<div class="verse">To the skies that are shamed because of it,</div>
-<div class="verse">Lit with a blue and hungry fire,</div>
-<div class="verse">That blasts like the breath of fulfilled Desire,</div>
-<div class="verse">Glory and Shame in its secret hoards,</div>
-<div class="verse">It stands supreme, the Ladder of Swords!</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse"><i>You must climb it?</i> Aye, with all men born!</div>
-<div class="verse"><i>When?</i> When you reel from the common scorn,</div>
-<div class="verse">When utter Defeat has gripped you fast,</div>
-<div class="verse">And your life goes down in the dark at last;</div>
-<div class="verse">When the things you builded dissolve like mist,</div>
-<div class="verse">And Love has broken his faith and tryst,</div>
-<div class="verse">And your body strains at the torturers&#8217; cords,</div>
-<div class="verse">You have come at last to the Ladder of Swords!</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[47]</a></span>
-<div class="verse"><i>Will you find a friend?</i> One friend alone,</div>
-<div class="verse">Flesh of your flesh and bone of your bone,</div>
-<div class="verse">The last strange Courage that mocks Despair,</div>
-<div class="verse">That hunts the wolf with the wounded hare,</div>
-<div class="verse">That throws your life in the jaws of death</div>
-<div class="verse">To snatch it back in a single breath.</div>
-<div class="verse">Blinded no longer by pomp and words,</div>
-<div class="verse">You shall go up stark to the Ladder of Swords!</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Though your torn feet slip on the bloody steel,</div>
-<div class="verse">Though your body faint and your senses reel,</div>
-<div class="verse">Dizzied with agony, blind and numb,</div>
-<div class="verse">You shall crawl the rungs till the end is come;</div>
-<div class="verse">Though the sun flare out and the heavens crack,</div>
-<div class="verse">Nor god nor devil can turn you back!</div>
-<div class="verse">This is the prize that Defeat accords!</div>
-<div class="verse">Courage! Courage! The Ladder of Swords!</div>
-</div>
-<div class="stanza">
-<div class="verse">Yes, by the gods! Caesar, the day is yours,</div>
-<div class="verse">You rule the world&mdash;while you debauch the State.</div>
-<div class="verse">Yet, somewhere, beyond all, there still endures,</div>
-<div class="verse">That pure Republic: and its white walls shine,</div>
-<div class="verse">Proudly, a dream no conquests can dispel.</div>
-<div class="verse">Your hosts toil uselessly; no force can take</div>
-<div class="verse">Those walls. Your legionaries break and break,</div>
-<div class="verse">In vain. Ever, before each bleeding line,</div>
-<div class="verse">It rises still, the Vision Invincible!</div>
-</div></div></div>
-
-<hr class="chap" />
-
-<div class="transnote">
-
-
-<p class="ph2">TRANSCRIBER&#8217;S NOTE:</p>
-
-
-<p>Obvious typographical errors have been corrected.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-<pre>
-
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