| ift course,             90
    Or Cynthia, night's queen, waits upon the day,
    Shall never faith be found in fellow kings:
    Dominion cannot suffer partnership.
    This need[s] no foreign proof nor far-fet[587] story:
    Rome's infant walls were steep'd in brother's blood;
    Nor then was land or sea, to breed such hate;
    A town with one poor church set them at odds.[588]
      Caesar's and Pompey's jarring love soon ended,
    'Twas peace against their wills; betwixt them both
    Stepp'd Crassus in. Even as the slender isthmos,                 100
    Betwixt the AEgaean,[589] and the Ionian sea,
    Keeps each from other, but being worn away,
    They both burst out, and each encounter other;
    So whenas Crassus' wretched death, who stay'd them,
    Had fill'd Assyrian Carra's[590] walls with blood,
    His loss made way for Roman outrages.
    Parthians, y'afflict us more than ye suppose;
    Being conquer'd, we are plagu'd with civil war.
    Swords share our empire: Fortune, that made Rome
    Govern the earth, the sea, the world itself,                     110
    Would not admit two lords; for Julia,
    Snatch'd hence by cruel Fates, with ominous howls
    Bare down to hell her son, the pledge of peace,
    And all bands of that death-presaging alliance.
    Julia, had heaven given thee longer life,
    Thou hadst restrain'd thy headstrong husband's rage,
    Yea, and thy father too, and, swords thrown down,
    Made all shake hands, as once the Sabines did:
    Thy death broke amity, and train'd to war
    These captains emulous of each other's glory.                    120
    Thou fear'd'st, great Pompey, that late deeds would dim
    Old triumphs, and that Caesar's conquering France
    Would dash the wreath thou war'st for pirates' wreck:
    Thee war's use stirr'd, and thoughts that always scorn'd
    A second place. Pompey could bide no equal,
    Nor Caesar no superior: which of both
    Had justest cause, unlawful 'tis to judge:
    Each side had great partakers; Caesar's cause
    The gods abetted, Cato lik'd the other.[591]
    Both differ'd much. Pompey was struck in years,                  130
    And by long rest forgot to manage arms,
    And, being popular, sought by liberal gifts
    To gain the light unstable commons' love,
    And joy'd to hear his theatre's applause:
    He lived secure, boasting his former deeds,
    And thought his name sufficient to uphold him: |