DE BELLO CIVILI
DE BELLO CIVILI
[CAESAR.49B. 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 cityIs gone stark mad against you.” Oh, of course!“At the next meeting of the Senate”? Ah!“I will suggest both you and Pompey layAside your several commands.” All hangsOn that one offer—If they should refuse,I strike at last!...Well, Curio, “Dare you notGive 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 yearsI have toiled up this hill—and now at lastStand 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 vainIn these vast woods. They call me to return,“A private citizen as Pompey did.”No, to return disgraced, shut out foreverFrom 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 careFor 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, resignYour provinces!” and let them cut my throat!“Return to Rome a citizen. That one actWould make you just—immortal, and they, they,Would shrink back to their holes, never againTo dare the splendor of the day and truth.Pompey is not against you. Him I know.And he would be as generous a friendAs 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 soulStands here at stake, you hold the fate of RomeIn your two hands. Gaze not in that dread face!”Another letter! What ... from Calinus ...How our lives part ... and men part.... Why the lastTime that I saw him was ... how long ago ...Ten ... twenty years ... on the white walls of RhodesWe talked that evening on the flat, wide roofOf the old merchant’s house where he was lodged.I was to leave tomorrow, and we layUnder the blazing stars. A brown slave girlPlucked at a lute whose drowsy murmur diedThrobbingly into sweetness.... We were youngAnd all our gorgeous dreams marched forth in statePast the great purple bales of Syrian rugs,Over the thin brown frails of dates, untilThe 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 makeThe 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 farYou 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 prizeTill the last thick darkness covers your eyesAnd the voice of the dead Republic criesForever in your ears.Follow your foe o’er land and sea,River and bush and stone!When the end has come to the weary raceAnd 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 sayThey drove you from the Senate?... I must makeDecision now....Comrades! The die is cast!We march tomorrow on Ariminum!
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 cityIs gone stark mad against you.” Oh, of course!“At the next meeting of the Senate”? Ah!“I will suggest both you and Pompey layAside your several commands.” All hangsOn that one offer—If they should refuse,I strike at last!...Well, Curio, “Dare you notGive 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 yearsI have toiled up this hill—and now at lastStand 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 vainIn these vast woods. They call me to return,“A private citizen as Pompey did.”No, to return disgraced, shut out foreverFrom 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 careFor 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, resignYour provinces!” and let them cut my throat!“Return to Rome a citizen. That one actWould make you just—immortal, and they, they,Would shrink back to their holes, never againTo dare the splendor of the day and truth.Pompey is not against you. Him I know.And he would be as generous a friendAs 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 soulStands here at stake, you hold the fate of RomeIn your two hands. Gaze not in that dread face!”Another letter! What ... from Calinus ...How our lives part ... and men part.... Why the lastTime that I saw him was ... how long ago ...Ten ... twenty years ... on the white walls of RhodesWe talked that evening on the flat, wide roofOf the old merchant’s house where he was lodged.I was to leave tomorrow, and we layUnder the blazing stars. A brown slave girlPlucked at a lute whose drowsy murmur diedThrobbingly into sweetness.... We were youngAnd all our gorgeous dreams marched forth in statePast the great purple bales of Syrian rugs,Over the thin brown frails of dates, untilThe 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 makeThe 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 farYou 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 prizeTill the last thick darkness covers your eyesAnd the voice of the dead Republic criesForever in your ears.Follow your foe o’er land and sea,River and bush and stone!When the end has come to the weary raceAnd 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 sayThey drove you from the Senate?... I must makeDecision now....Comrades! The die is cast!We march tomorrow on Ariminum!
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 cityIs gone stark mad against you.” Oh, of course!“At the next meeting of the Senate”? Ah!“I will suggest both you and Pompey layAside your several commands.” All hangsOn that one offer—If they should refuse,I strike at last!...Well, Curio, “Dare you notGive 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 yearsI have toiled up this hill—and now at lastStand 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 vainIn these vast woods. They call me to return,“A private citizen as Pompey did.”No, to return disgraced, shut out foreverFrom 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 careFor 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, resignYour provinces!” and let them cut my throat!“Return to Rome a citizen. That one actWould make you just—immortal, and they, they,Would shrink back to their holes, never againTo dare the splendor of the day and truth.Pompey is not against you. Him I know.And he would be as generous a friendAs 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 soulStands here at stake, you hold the fate of RomeIn your two hands. Gaze not in that dread face!”
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 lastTime that I saw him was ... how long ago ...Ten ... twenty years ... on the white walls of RhodesWe talked that evening on the flat, wide roofOf the old merchant’s house where he was lodged.I was to leave tomorrow, and we layUnder the blazing stars. A brown slave girlPlucked at a lute whose drowsy murmur diedThrobbingly into sweetness.... We were youngAnd all our gorgeous dreams marched forth in statePast the great purple bales of Syrian rugs,Over the thin brown frails of dates, untilThe 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 makeThe last decision, take one course of two,Be saved or lost ... friend ... friend ... friend of my youth....
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.
“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!
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.
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 farYou will look in your heart where your dead hopes are,And curse her for a lamia,The serpent you called bride.
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 prizeTill the last thick darkness covers your eyesAnd the voice of the dead Republic criesForever in your ears.
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 raceAnd the slain man lies in his fated place,You shall draw the veil from the white dead face,And shriek, knowing your own!”
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 sayThey drove you from the Senate?... I must makeDecision now....Comrades! The die is cast!We march tomorrow on Ariminum!
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!