When birds are silent thorough winter's rage,
Or sea far from the land, so all were whist,[598]
Now light had quite dissolv'd the misty night,
And Cæsar's mind unsettled musing stood;
But gods and fortune pricked him to this war,
Infringing all excuse of modest shame,
And labouring to approve[599] his quarrel good.
The angry senate, urging Gracchus'[600] deeds,
From doubtful Rome wrongly expell'd the tribunes
That cross'd them: both which now approach'd the camp,270