"Various, or in subjection or command, "And that by common choice; alas! the scene, "With virtue, freedom, and with glory bright, "Streams into blood, and darkens into woe." Thus she pursu'd.-Near this great æra, Rome 335 Began to feel the swift approach of Fate, That now her vitals gain'd; still more and more
Her deep divisions kindling into rage,
As with the fliding rock the pile sustain'd.
A last attempt, too late, the Gracchi made,
To fix the flying scale, and poise the state.
On one side swell'd aristocratic Pride,
With Ufury, the villain whose fell gripe
Bends by degrees to baseness the free foul;
And Luxury rapacious, cruel, mean,
Mother of vice! while on the other crept
A populace in want, with pleasure fir'd,
Fit for proscriptions, for the darkest deeds,
As the proud feeder bade; inconstant, blind,
Deserting friends at need, and dup'd by foes;
Loud and feditious, when a chief inspir'd,
Their headlong fury; but of him depriv'd, Already flaves that lick'd the scourging hand. 360 This firm Republic, that against the blast
Of Oppofition rose; that (like an oak,
Nurs'd on feracious Algidum, whose boughs
Still stronger shoot beneath the rigid axe)
By lofs, by flaughter, from the steel itself
Evenforce and spirit drew, smit with the calm,
The dead ferene of profperous fortune, pin'd.
Nought now her weighty legions could oppofe.
Her terror once *, on Afric's tawny fhore,
Now smok'd indust, a stabling now for wolves, 370
And every dreaded power received the yoke.
Besides, destructive, from the conquer'd Eaft,
In the foft plunder came that worft of plagues,
That pestilence of mind, a fever'd thirft
For the falfe joys which Luxury prepares:
Unworthy joys! that wafteful leave behind
No mark of honour, in reflecting hour,
No fecret ray to glad the confcious foul;
At once involving in one ruin wealth,
And wealth-acquiring powers; while stupid Self, 380
Of narrow guît and hebetating fenfe,
Devour the nobler faculties of blifs.
Hence Roman virtue flacken'd into floth,
Security relax'd the softening state,
And the broad eye of Government lay clos'd. 385
No more the laws inviolable reign'd,
And public weal no more; but party rag'd,
And partial power, and licence unrestrain'd,
Let Discord thro' the deathful City loose.
First, mild Tiberius*! on thy facred head
The Fury's vengeance fell; the first whose blood
Had since the Confuls stain'd contending Rome;
Of precedent pernicious! With thee bled
Three hundred Romans; with thy brother, next,
Three thousand more; till into battles turn'd 395
Debates of peace, and forced the trembling laws,
The Forum and Comitia horrid grew,
A scene of barter'd power or reeking gore :
When, half-asham'd, Corruption's thievish arts,
And ruffian Force, begin to sap the mounds
And majesty of laws; if not in time
Repress'd fevere, for human aid too strong,
The torrent turns, and overbears the whole.
Thus luxury, dissention, a mix'd rage Of boundless pleasure and of boundless wealth, 405 Want wishing change, and waste-repairing war, Rapine for ever loft to peaceful toil, Guilt unaton'd, profuse of blood Revenge, Corruption all avow'd, and lawless Force, Each heightening each, alternate shook the state. 410 Mean time Ambition, at the dazzling head Of hardy legions, with the laurels heap'd And spoil of nations, in one circling blast Combin'd in various storm, and from its base
The broad Republic tore. By Virtue built 415
It touch'd the skies, and spread o'er sheltered earth
An ample roof: by Virtue, too, sustain'd,
And balanc'd steady, every tempest sung
Innoxious by, or bade it firmer stand:
But when, with fudden and enormous change, 420
The first of mankind funk into the last,
As once in virtue, so in vice extreme,
This univerfal fabric yielded loofe
Before Ambition still; and thundering down,
At last, beneath its ruins crush'd a world.
A conquering people, to themselves a prey,
Muft ever fall, when their victorious troops,
In blood and rapine savage grown, can find
No land to fack and pillage but their own.
By brutal Marius and keen Sylla first
Effus'd the deluge dire of civil blood,
Unceasing woes began, and this or that
(Deep drenching their revenge), nor virtue spar'd,
Nor fex nor age, nor quality nor name;
Till Rome, into an human shambles turn'd,
Made deferts lovely. -Oh! to well-earn'd chains
Devoted race!- If no true Roman then,
No Scævola there was, to raise for Me
A vengeful hand: was there no father, robb'd
Of blooming youth to prop his withered age? 440
No fon a witness to his hoary fire
In dust and gore defil'd? No friend, forlorn?
No wretch that doubtful trembled for himself?
None brave, or wild, to pierce a monster's heart,
Who, heaping horror round, no more deserv'd 445
The facred shelter of the laws he spurn'd?
No: fad o'er all profound Dejection fate,
And nerveless Fear. The slave's afylum theirs,
Or flight, ill-judging, that the timid back
Turns weak to flaughter, or partaken guilt.
In vain from Sylla's vanity I drew
An unexampled deed. The power refign'd,
And all unhop'd the Commonwealth reftor'd,
Amaz'd the public, and effac'd his crimes.
Thro' streets yet streaming from his murderous hand
Unarm'd he stray'd, unguarded, unaffail'd,
And on the bed of peace his ashes laid;
A grace which I to his demiffion gave.
But with him died not the despotic foul.
Ambition faw that stooping Rome could bear 460
A Master, nor had virtue to be free.
Hence for fucceeding years My troubled reign
No certain peace, no spreading prospect, knew.
Destruction gathered round. Still the black foul
Or of a Catiline or Rullus *, fwell'd
With fell designs, and all the watchful art
Of Cicero demanded, all the force,
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