Yet he, of empires and of men the shame,
Quitting the honour of a ruler's name,
Meanly at once abandon'd Rome and fame.
Now this to Heaven it self does fears impart,
And the mild train of quiet gods depart;
Frighted with wars they quit the impious world,
And leave mankind in wild confusion hurl'd.
Fair Peace, as leader of the goodly train,
Beating her snowy arms, did first complain;
A wreath of olives bound her drooping head,
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.
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