1-15. In this passage, Lucan displays some anxiety about fate and predestination: "Perhaps when the Creator first took up his shapeless realm of raw matter after the conflagration had died down, he fixed causes for eternity, binding himself too by his all-controlling law, and with the immovable boundary of destiny, arranged the universe to introduce prescribed ages" (7-11). Such doubt is understandable, for beliefs are always challenged in times of crisis.
16-233. This long passage begins with the description of a general panic in Rome (which, again, was not entirely abandoned). Businesses close (17-18), government officials neglect their appearance (19), and women rush to the temples to pray (28-29). Ironically, the men lament that they were not alive at the time of the Second Punic War (ca. 265-241 B.C.) to fight at Cannae and at the Trebia (two battles which the Romans actually lost). At least then they were fighting a foreign enemy. Indeed, they plainly admit that they are willing to fight anyone--except fellow Romans. Then, Marius' sack of Rome is recalled by an elderly man (The man's age is not mentioned in the text, but he would have to be old in order to remember an event that occurred in 88 B.C.). In this portion of the passage, Lucan makes two interesting comments: 1) Marius' brief imprisonment in 88 B.C. ultimately proved to be the incentive for his future crimes against Rome (72-73), and 2) the old general led a charmed life. Many times, he escaped death at the hands of a foreign enemy because he was destined to destroy Rome (75-78; see also Plutarch, Marius, 39). Although this cannot be substantiated, Lucan further implies that Marius freed gangs of slaves solely for the purpose of employing them in his siege of Rome (94-96; see also Appian, Civil Wars, I.67). The rest of the passage describes the carnage committed by supporters of Marius and/or Sulla: "The Tyrrhenian flood received in a heap all the Sullan corpses. The first fell down into the river, the last on top of bodies. Ships travelling downstream were halted, and the river's front part, cut off by bloody debris, flowed into the sea while the water behind stood still at the dam. Now the deep flow of blood forces a way for itself, and flooding all the plain and racing on with headlong stream into the Tiber's flow is swelled the sluggish waters; now the river, not contained by bed or banks, returned the corpses to the plain. At last with difficulty struggling into the Tyrrhenian waves, it streaked the blue sea with its torrent of blood" (209-220).
234-325. Here, Lucan introduces the statesmen Brutus and his uncle Cato. As the two confer, an uncertain Brutus observes that many people are aligning themselves with Pompey or Caesar not for political but, rather, for personal reasons. Some want to avoid a famine by depleting the population through war (253). Others are hoping to escape debts by destroying municipal offices and records (253-254), and, of course, there are those who simply sign on for pay (255). Brutus also suggests that Caesar would be pleased to "'learn that such a mighty citizen [as Cato] has deigned to enter battle'" (274), for then it would somehow legitimize his own actions. Cato responds by noting that he too finds the prospect of civil war distasteful, but, if the only alternative is to stand by and "'watch the stars and universe collapsing'" (289), he would prefer to follow the fortunes of Pompey.
326-391. The next character to arrive on the scene is Marcia, the first wife of Cato (By this time, he was married to another woman.). Apparently, Marcia had four children with Cato, who then gave her to another man (Hortensius) in an effort to forge an alliance with his family (332-333). Now that her second husband is dead, she has returned to Cato with a request that he renew their marriage vows. Essentially, the entire passage is designed to illustrate the virtue and austerity of Cato--a man who is willing to sacrifice everything for the good of Rome.
392-438. Meanwhile, Pompey decides to withdraw "his fearful throng" (392) from Rome to Campania. The city of Capua, then, will serve as his base of operations. The rest of this passage is merely an extensive description of Italian geography.
439-477. So far in the poem, Lucan has displayed a mild contempt for Julius Caesar. Here, the author exhibits open hostility: "Caesar, mad for war, rejoices to proceed only by shedding blood, rejoices that Hesperia's lands he tramples are not empty of the enemy, that the fields he invades are not deserted, that his march itself is not for nothing, that non-stop he wages war after war. He would rather smash the city-gates than enter them wide open, with sword and fire devastate the fields than tread them with the farmer unresisting. He is ashamed to go by paths permitted, like a citizen" (439-446). Lucan also states that, while the people favored Pompey (433), "terror turned their minds with ease" (460-461). Finally, the Sulla who "turns tail at the mention of Caesar's name" (465) is actually the son of the former dictator (and, incidentally, the son-in-law of Pompey).
478-525. As in Book I (220-222), this passage contains a realistic allusion to an army on the march: "He saw far off an enormous cloud rising from the plain and battle-lines aflame with weapons struck by glittering sun" (481-483). In an effort to hinder Caesar's advance, a general named Domitius (who also happens to be an ancestor to Nero) attempts, unsuccessfully, to destroy a bridge on the Aternus River. After this abortive engagement, the people of Corfinium arrest Domitius and surrender to Caesar. According to Lucan, Domitius expected an honorable death through execution, but Caesar, who anticipated the general's wish, decided to humiliate the man with a full pardon: "'Live, against your will, and by my generosity look upon the light of day'" (512-513). These lines are especially interesting in light of Caesar's own version of the event, which portrays Domitius as a complete coward (Civil Wars, I.16-23).
526-595. This passage opens with another analogy to Homer's Iliad. Just as Agamemnon decided to test the Achaeans' loyalty in Book II of that poem, Pompey "thought to test the indignation of the soldiers" (329) under his command. What follows, however, sounds more like a pep talk than a test. To convince his men that they are on the side of righteousness, he cleverly calls them "'avengers of crimes'" (531) and the only "'truly Roman army'" (532). Indeed, when he first speaks of Caesar and his troops, he depersonalizes them as "'the rabid frenzy of Gaul'" (535). Yet, if this is a pep talk, it is a half-hearted one, for, as Pompey goes to great lengths to remind everyone of his previous exploits, one gets the distinct feeling that, just below the surface, he is worried.
596-627. Sure enough, Pompey's great speech falls far short of the desired effect: "His faction met their leader's words with no acclaim[,] nor do they demand the speedy trumpet-signal of the promised battle. Even Magnus [i.e., Pompey] sensed their fear himself, and decided to recall the standards" (596-698). Rather than chance a battle with a force such as this, Pompey now decides to retreat all the way to the city of Brundisium in southeastern Italy.
628-649. Since the route to Spain is blocked by Caesar and his army, Pompey dispatches his eldest son Gnaeus Pompeius to the east in a desperate attempt to recruit allies.
650-679. Previously (especially 439-477), Lucan has portrayed Caesar as a mindless, bloodthirsty war monger. Now, he finally gives the general a believable motive--ambition: "Others might be satisfied with capture of so many city-walls at first assault, with sudden conquest of so many citadels, the enemy dislodged, and with the easy seizure of Rome itself, the capital of the world and war's greatest prize; but Caesar fiercely presses on, impetuous in everything and thinking nothing done when there remains still something more to do: although he occupies all Italy, yet because Magnus remains on the seashore's edge it rankles that the country is shared between them still" (653-660). Hoping to contain his opponent in Italy, Caesar first tries to blockade the ports by dumping rocks into the sea. When this fails, he builds huge wooden rafts with towers (see Caesar, Civil Wars, I.25). If nothing else, these are certainly the actions of a determined man.
680-703. By ramming "the new-made land" (681) with his ships, Pompey barely manages to escape (see Caesar, Civil Wars, I.27-28). For some reason (perhaps to suggest the presence of fear among Pompey's forces), this passage is characterized by silence.
704-736. As soon as Pompey escapes, Brundisium surrenders to Caesar, whose conquest of Italy is now complete. Aside from this development, one other aspect of this passage deserves attention. While he has not bothered to conceal his hatred of Caesar, Lucan has so far maintained a neutral (almost indifferent) attitude toward Pompey. In these lines, however, he finally concedes a slight admiration for the deposed leader: "You go, driven out . . . an exile but still great. A far-off place is needed for your undeserved fall' (728-731).