The ground, which Curius and Camillus till'd, 170 Was stretched unto the fields of hinds unknown. Again, this people could not brook calm peace; Them freedom without war might not suffice: Quarrels were rife; greedy desire, still poor, Did vild deeds; then 'twas worth the price of blood, And deem'd renown, to spoil their native town; Force mastered right, the strongest govern'd all; Hence came it that th' edicts were over-rul'd, That laws were broke, tribunes with consuls strove, Sale made of offices, and people's voices 180 Bought by themselves and sold, and every year Frauds and corruption in the Field of Mars; Hence interest and devouring usury sprang, Faith's breach, and hence came war, to most men welcome. Now CÊsar overpass'd the snowy Alps; His mind was troubled, and he aim'd at war: And coming to the ford of Rubicon, At night in dreadful vision fearful[594] Rome Mourning appear'd, whose hoary hairs were torn, And on her turret-bearing head dispers'd, 190 And arms all naked; who, with broken sighs, And staring, thus bespoke: "What mean'st thou, CÊsar? Whither goes my standard? Romans if ye be, And bear true hearts, stay here!" This spectacle Struck CÊsar's heart with fear; his hair stood up, And faintness numb'd his steps there on the brink. He thus cried out: "Thou thunderer that guard'st Rome's mighty walls, built on Tarpeian rock! Ye gods of Phrygia and Ilus' line, Quirinus' rites, and Latian Jove advanc'd 200 On Alba hill! O vestal flames! O Rome, My thoughts sole goddess, aid mine enterprise! I hate thee not, to thee my conquests stoop: CÊsar is thine, so please it thee, thy soldier. He, he afflicts Rome that made me Rome's foe." This said, he, laying aside all lets[595] of war, Approach'd the swelling stream with drum and ensign: Like to a lion of scorch'd desert Afric, Who, seeing hunters, pauseth till fell wrath And kingly rage increase, then, having whisk'd 210 His tail athwart his back, and crest heav'd up, With jaws wide-open ghastly roaring out, Albeit the Moor's light javelin or his spear Sticks in his side, yet runs upon the hunter. In summer-time the purple Rubicon, Which issues from a small spring, is but shallow, And creeps along the vales, dividing just The bounds of Italy from Cisalpine France. But now the winter's wrath, and watery moon Being three days old, enforc'd the flood to swell, 220 And frozen Alps thaw'd with resolving winds. The thunder-hoof'd[596] horse, in a crookËd line, To scape the violence of the stream, first waded; Which being broke, the foot had easy passage. As soon as CÊsar got unto the bank And bounds of Italy, "Here, here," saith he,