And to Hell's dark insatiate realms she fled. Justice and Faith on her attending went, And mournful Concord, with her garment rent. On th' other side from Hell's wide gaping jaws, A train of dire inhabitants arose: Dreadful errings, fierce Bellona there, Fraud, and Megera arm'd with brands of fire, And th' gastly image of pale death appear: Disorder'd Rage from all her fetters freed, Proudly 'midst these lifts her distracted head, And her hackt face with bloody helmet hid. On her left arm a target old and worn, Pierc'd with innumerable darts was born, And brands of fire supported in her right, The impious world with flames and ruin threat. The gods descending, leave their still abode, And the stars wondring miss their usual load; For all the inhabitants of Heaven come, Choosing their sides, with factious fury down. For Cæsar first Dione does appear, Pallas and Mars with his huge brandisht spear; Phœbe and Phœbus too for Cæsar came, And with Cyllenius, to fill the train, Alcides went, in all his acts the same. The trumpets sound, when from the Stygian shade Wild Discord raises her disorder'd head; From whose swoln eyes there ran a briny flood, And blood congeal'd otre all her visage stood; Her hideous rows of brazen teeth were furr'd, A filthy gore there issu'd from her tongue, With snaky locks her guarded head was hung; Rent and divided did her garb betray The image of the breast on which it lay; And brandisht flames her trembling hand obey. Thus from Hell's deeps she past with dire design, Up to the top of noble Appennine, From whose proud height she all the world descri'd, Earth, seas, and armies march on every side, And bursting out at length, with fury cry'd, Let murderous rage the world to arms inspire, That every nation may appear a fire: No age or sex shall from the war be free, No subtle fear be a security. The earth it self shall tremble, and the shock Make mountains cleft against each other knock. Marcellus guide the laws, Curior the crowd, Let Lentulus inspire the warlike god. But why is't Cæsar such slow measures takes? Not scale the walls? Nor force th' aspiring gates, Nor to the town, nor to the treasure makes? At Rome, if Pompey fears th' approaching foe, Let him to fatal Epidamnum go: Fill all its plains with blood. Thus Discord said, And impious earth her black decrees obey'd."