Th e Fo u r Mo n a re It ies. 239
The old Qiieen and the young at bitter jarrs,
The laft accus'd the firft for thefe fad warrs/'
The wife againft the mother ftill doth cry
To be the Author of confpiracy.
The King difmaid, a mighty hoft doth raife,
Which Cyrus hears, and fo foreflows his pace :
But as he goes his forces ftill augments,
Seven hundred Greeks repair for^ his intents,
And others to be warm'd by this new fun
In numbers from his brother dayly run.
The fearfull King at laft mufters his forces,
And counts nine hundred thoufand Foot & horfes.
Three hundred thoufand he to Syria fent
To keep thofe ftreights his brother to prevent/'
Their Captain hearing but of Cyrus name,
Forfook his charge to his eternal fliame/
This place fo made by nature and by art,
Few might have kept it, had they had a heart.
Cyrus difpair'd a paffage there to gain,
So hir'd a fleet to waft him o're the Main:
The 'mazed King was then about to fly
To Ba6iria and for a time there lye.
�� ��J The one accus'd the other, for thefe wars : / Greeks now further.
k And jet with thefe, had neither heart, nor grace ; To look his manlj brother in the face. Three hundred thoufand, jet to Syria fent; To keep thofe ftreights, to hinder his intent. i Ran back, and quite abandoned the fame, Abrocoiites, was this bafe cowards name, Not worthj to be known, but for his Ihame :
"' To th' utmoft parts of Badlr'a, and there lye.
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