Lucan, Civil War Book 3 Translated by H. T. Riley (1853) Formatted and by C. Chinn (2008) WHEN the south wind pressing upon the yielding sails urged on the fleet, and the ships set in motion the middle of the deep, each sailor looked upon the Ionian waves; Magnus alone did not turn his eyes from the Hesperian land, 5 while he beheld his country's harbours, and the shores destined never to return to his gaze, and the peaks hidden in clouds, and the dim mountains, vanish. Then did the wearied limbs of the chieftain yield to soporiferous slumber. Then, a ghost, full of dread horror, 10 Julia seemed to raise her sorrowing head through the yawning earth, and to stand like a Fury above the lighted pyre. "Exiled," said she, "from the Elysian abodes and the fields of the Blessed, unto the Stygian shades and the guilty ghosts, since the civil warfare have I been dragged. I myself have beheld 15 the Eumenides holding torches, the which to brandish against your arms. The ferryman of scorched Acheron is preparing boats innumerable, and Tartarus is expanding for manifold punishments. Hardly with plying right hand do all rite Sisters suffice for the work; those who are breaking their threads quite weary the Destinies. 20 While I was thy wife, Magnus, thou didst head the joyous triumphal processions; with thy marriage Fortune has changed; and ever condemned by fate to drag her mighty husbands to ruin, lo! my funereal pile still warm, the supplanter Cornelia has married thee. Let her, in war and upon the deep, adhere to thy standards, 25 so long as it is allowed me to break thy slumbers not secure from care, and let no time be left at leisure for your love, but both let Caesar occupy thy days and Julia thy nights. Me, husband, not the obliviousness of the Lethaean shore has made forgetful of thyself, and the princes of the dead have allowed me 30 to follow thee. Thou waging the warfare, I will come into the midst of the ranks. Never, Magnus, by the Shades and by my ghost shall it be allowed thee not to have been his son-in-law. In vain dost thou sever thy ties with the sword, the civic warfare shall make thee mine." Thus having said, the ghost, 35 gliding away through the embrace of her trembling husband, fled. He, although the Deities and the Shades threaten destruction, rushes the more boldly to arms, with a mind assured of ill. And, "Why," says he, "are we alarmed at the phantom of an unsubstantial dream? Either there is no sense left in the mind after death, 40 or else death itself is nothing." Now the setting Titan was sinking in the waves, and had plunged into the deep as much of his fiery orb as is wont to be wanting to the moon, whether she is about to be at full, or whether she has just been full; then did the hospitable land present an easy access to the ships; they coiled up the ropes, 45 and, the masts laid down, with oars they made for the shore. Caesar, when the winds bore off the ships thus escaping, and the seas had hidden the fleet, and he stood the sole ruler on the Hesperian shore, no glory in the expulsion of Magnus caused joy to him; but he complained that the enemy had turned their backs 50 in safety upon the deep. Nor, indeed, did any fortune now suffice for the eager hero; nor was conquest of such value that he should delay the warfare. Then did he expel from his breast the care for arms and become intent upon peace, and in what manner he might conciliate the fickle attachment of the populace, 55 fully aware that both the causes of anger and the highest grounds of favour originate in supplies of corn. For it is famine alone that makes cities free, and respect is purchased when the powerful are feeding a sluggish multitude. A starving commonalty knows not how to fear. Curio is ordered to pass over into the Sicilian cities, 60 where the sea has either overwhelmed the land with sudden waves or has cut it asunder and made the mid-land a shore for itself. There, is a vast conflict of the main, and the waves are ever struggling, that the mountains, burst asunder, may not reunite their utmost verges. The war, too, is extended even to the Sardinian coasts. 65 Each island is famous for its corn-bearing fields; nor more do any lands fill Hesperia with harvests brought from afar, nor to a greater extent supply the Roman granaries. Hardly in fertility of soil does it excel them, when, the south winds pausing, Boreas sweeping the clouds downwards to a southern clime, 70 Libya bears a plenteous year from the falling showers. When these things had been provided for by the chieftain, then, victorious, he repaired to the abodes of his country, not bringing with him bands of armed men, but having the aspect of peace. Oh! if he had returned to the City, the nations of rite Gauls and the North only subdued, what a long line 75 of exploits might he have paraded before him in the lengthened procession of triumph, what representations of the warfare! How might he have placed chains upon the Rhine and upon the ocean! How high-spirited Gaul would have followed his lofty chariot, and mingled with the yellow-haired Britons! Alas! by conquering still more what a triumph was it that he lost! 80 Not with joyous crowds did ate cities see him as he went along, but silent they beheld him with alarm. Nowhere was there the multitude coming forth to meet the chieftain. Still, he rejoiced that he was held in such dread by the people, and he would prefer himself not to be loved. And now, too, he has passed over the steep heights of Anxur, 85 and where the watery way divides the Pontine marshes. Where, too, is the lofty grove, where the realms of Scythian Diana; and where there is the road for the Latian fasces to lofty Alba. Afar from a lofty rock he now views the City, not beheld by him during the whole period of his northern wars; 90 and, thus speaking, he admires the walls of his Rome:-- "And have there been men, forced by no warfare, to desert thee, the abode of the Gods? For what city will they fight? The Gods have proved more favouring in that it is no Eastern fury that now presses upon the Latian shores, nor yet the swift Sarmatian 95 in common with the Pannonian, and the Getans mingled with the Dacians. Fortune, Rome, has spared thee, having a chief so cowardly, in that the warfare was a civil one." Thus he speaks, and he enters Rome stupefied with terror; for he is supposed to be about to overthrow the walls of Rome as though captured, with dusky fires, 100 and to scatter abroad the Gods. This is the extent of their fear; they think that he is ready to do whatever he is able. No festive omens are there, no pretending feigned applause with joyous uproar; hardly is there time to hate, The throng of Senators fills the Palatine halls of Phoebus drawn forth from their concealment, 105 by no right of convoking the Senate. The sacred seats are not graced with the Consul, no Praetor is there, the next power according to law; and the empty curule seats have been removed from their places. Caesar is everything. The Senate is present, witness to the words of a private person. The Fathers sit, prepared to give their sanction, 110 whether he shall demand a kingdom, whether a Temple for himself, the throats, too, of the Senate, and their exile. Fortunate was it that lee blushed at commanding, more than Rome did at obeying. Still, liberty, making the experiment in one man whether the laws can possibly withstand force, gives rise to anger; and the resisting Metellus, 115 when he beholds the Temple of Saturn being forced open by vast efforts, hurries his steps, and bursting through the troops of Caesar, takes his stand before the doors of the Temple not yet opened. (To such a degree does the love of gold alone know not how to fear the sword and death. Swept away, the laws perish 120 with no contest; but thou, pelf, the most worthless portion of things, dost excite the contest;) and, forbidding the conqueror the plunder, the Tribune with loud voice addresses him: "Only through my sides shall the Temple struck by thee be opened, and, plunderer, thou shalt carry off no scattered wealth except 125 by shedding sacred blood. Surely this violated power will find the Gods its avengers. The Tribune's curse, too, following Crassus to the warfare, prayed for the direful battles. Now unsheathe the sword; for the multitude is not to be regarded by thee, the spectator of thy crimes: in a deserted City do we stand. 130 No soldier accursed shall bear off his reward from our Treasury; nations there are for thee to overthrow, walls for thee to grant. Want does not drive thee to the spoils of exhausted peace; Caesar, thou hast a war of thy own.'' The victor, aroused by these words to extreme anger, exclaims, "Thou dost conceive vain hopes 135 of a glorious death: my hand, Metellus, shall not pollute itself with that throat of thine. No honor shall make thee deserving of the resentment of Caesar. Has liberty been left safe, thee its assertor? Not to that degree has length of time confounded the highest with the lowest, that the laws, if they are to be preserved 140 by the voice of Metellus, would not prefer by Caesar to be uprooted." He spoke, and, the Tribune not yet retreating from the door, his anger became more intense; he looked around upon the ruthless swords, forgetful to pretend that there was peace. Then did Cotta persuade Metellus to desist from his too audacious purpose. 145 "The liberty of a people," said he, "which a tyrant's sway is ruling, perishes through excess of liberty; of it thou mayst preserve the shadow, if thou art ready to do whatever thou art commanded. To so many unjust things have we, conquered, submitted; this is the sole excuse for our shame and our degenerate fears, that nothing can possibly now be dared. 150 Quickly let him carry off the evil incentives to direful warfare. Injuries move the people, if any there are, whom their laws protect. Not to ourselves, but to our tyrant, is the poverty dangerous that acts the slave." Forthwith, Metellus led away, the Temple was opened wide. Then did the Tarpeian rock re-echo, and with a loud peal attest that 155 the doors were opened; then, stowed away in the lower part of the Temple, was dragged up, untouched for many a year, the wealth of the Roman people, which the Punic wars, which Percus, which the booty of the conquered Philip, had supplied; that which, Rome, Pyrrhus left to thee in his hurrying flight, 160 the gold for which Fabricius did not sell himself to the king, whatever you saved, manners of our thrifty forefathers; that which, as tribute, the wealthy nations of Asia had sent, and Minoïan Crete had paid to the conqueror Metellus; that, too, which Cato brought from Cyprus over distant seas. 165 Besides, the wealth of the East, and the remote treasures of captive kings, which were borne before him in the triumphal processions of Pompey, were carried forth; the Temple was spoiled with direful rapine; and then for the first time was Rome poorer than Caesar. In the meantime the fortune of Magnus throughout the whole 170 earth has aroused to battle the cities destined to fall with him. Greece near at hand affords forces for the neighbouring war. Amphissa sends Phocian bands, the rocky Cirrha too, and Parnassus deserted on either mountain ridge. The Boeotian leaders assemble, whom the swift Cephisus 175 surrounds with its fate-foretelling waters. Cadmean Dirce, too, and the bands of Pisae, and the Alpheus that sends beneath the main its waters to the peoples of Sicily. Then does the Arcadian leave Maenalus, and the Trachynian soldier Herculean Oeta. The Thesprotians and the Dryopians rush on, and the ancient 180 Sellae forsake the silent oaks on the Chaonian heights. Although the levy has exhausted the whole of Athens, three little barks keep possession of the Phoebean dockyards, and demand Salamis to be believed as true. Now, beloved by Jove, ancient Crete with its hundred peoples 185 resorts to arms, both Gnossus skilled at wielding the quiver, and Gortyna not inferior to the arrows of the East. Then, too, he who possesses Dardanian Oricum, and the wandering Athamanians dispersed amid the towering woods, and the Enchelians with their ancient name, who witnessed the end of the transformed Cadmus, 190 the Colchian Absyrtis, too, that foams down to the Adriatic tide, and those who cultivate the fields of Peneus, and by whose labours the Thessalian ploughshare cleaves Haemonian Iolcos. From that spot for the first time was the sea attempted when the untaught Argo mingled unknown races upon a polluted sea-shore, 195 and first committed the mortal race to the winds and the raging waves of the ocean, and through that bark one more death was added to the destinies of man. Then Thracian Haemus is deserted, and Pholoë that feigned the two-formed race. Strymon is abandoned, accustomed to send the Bistonian 200 birds to the warm Nile, and the barbarian Cone, where one mouth of the Ister, divided into many parts, loses the Sarmatian waves, and washes Peuce sprinkled by the main; Mysia, too, and the Idalian land bedewed by the cold Caïcus, and Arisbe very barren in its soil. 205 Those, too, who inhabit Pitane, and Celaenae, which, Pallas, condemned when Phoebus was victor, laments thy gifts. Where, too, the swift Marsyas descending with his straight banks approaches the wandering Maeander, and, mingling, is borne back again; the land, too, that permits the Pactolus to flow forth from its gold-bearing 210 mines, not less invaluable than which the Hermus divides the fields. The bands of Ilium, too, with omens their own, seek the standards and the camp doomed to fall; nor does the story of Troy restrain them, and Caesar declaring himself the descendant of Phrygian Iulus. The nations of Syria came; the deserted Orontes, 215 and Ninos so wealthy (as the story is), and windy Damascus, and Gaza, and Idumaea rich in its groves of palms. Unstable Tyre as well, and Sidon precious with its purple dye. These ships did the Cynosure conduct to the warfare by no winding track along the sea, more certain for no other barks. 220 The Phoenicians first, if belief is given to report, ventured to represent in rude characters the voice destined to endure. Not yet had Memphis learned to unite the rushes of the stream; and only animals engraved upon stones, both birds and wild beasts, kept in existence the magic tongues. 225 The forest, too, of Taurus is deserted, and Persean Tarsus, and the Corycian cave opening with its rooks worn away. Mallus and remote Aegae resound with their dockyards, and the Cilician ship goes forth obedient to the law, no longer a pirate now. The rumour, too, of the warfare has moved the corners of the East, 230 where Ganges is worshipped, who alone through out all the world dares to discharge himself by a mouth opposite to the rising sun, and impels his waves towards the opposing eastern winds; here it was that the chieftain from Pella, arriving beyond the seas of Tethys, stopped short, and confessed that he was conquered by the vast earth. 235 Where, too, Indus carrying along his rapid stream with divided flood is not sensible of the Hydaspes mingling with his waters. Those also, who drink the sweet juices from the tender cane, and those, who, tinting their hair with the yellow drug, bind their flowing linen garments with coloured gems. 240 Those also, who build up their own funereal pyres, and, alive, ascend the heated piles. Oh! how great a glory is it to this race to hasten their fate by their own hands, and, full of life, to present to the Deities what still remains! The fierce Cappadocians come; the people, now inhabitants of the hardy Amanus, 245 and the Armenian who possesses the Niphates that rolls down rocks; the Coatrae have quitted the woods that touch the skies. You, Arabians, have come into a world to you unknown, wondering how the shadows of the groves do not fall on the left hand. Then did the Roman frenzy influence the extreme Oretae, 250 and the Caramanian chieftains, whose sky declining towards the south, beholds Arctus set, but not the whole of it; and there the swiftly-moving Boötes shines but a small part of the night. The region, too, of the Aethiopians, which would not be overhung by any portion of the sky that bears the Constellations, did not, his knee inclining downward, the 255 extremity of the hoof of the bending Bull extend beyond the Zodiac. And where with the rapid Tigris the vast Euphrates takes his rise, streams which Persia sends forth from no different sources; and it is uncertain, if the earth were to mix the rivers, which name in preference there would be for the waters. But, spreading over the fields 260 the fertile Euphrates performs the part of the Pharian waves; while the earth with a sudden chasm sucks up the Tigris, and conceals his hidden course, and does not exclude the river born again from a new source from the waters of the sea. Between the ranks of Caesar and the opposing standards 265 the warlike Parthians held a neutral ground, content that they had made them but two. The wandering tribes of Scythia dipped their arrows, whom Bactros encircles with its icy stream, and Hyrcania with its vast forests. On this side the Lacedaemonian Heniochi, a nation fierce in wielding the rein, 270 and the Sarmatian, the neighbour of the savage Moschi. Where the Phasis cleaves the most wealthy fields of the Colchians; where runs the Halys fatal to Croesus; where falling from the Rhipaean heights the Tanais has given the names of different parts of the world to its banks, and, the same boundary both of Europe 275 and of Asia, cutting through the confines of the mid part of the earth, now in this direction, now in that, whichever way it turns, enlarges the world. Where, too, the flowing strait pours forth the waves of Maeotis, and the Euxine sea is borne away, a vaunt wrested from the limits of Hercules, and denies that Gades alone admits the ocean. 280 In this part the Essedonian nations, and thou, Arimaspian, tying thy locks bound up with gold; in this the bold Arian, and the Massagetan satisfying the long fast of Sarmatian warfare with the horse on which he flies, and the rapid Geloni. Not, when Cyrus leading forth his forces from the Memnonian realms, 285 and with his troops counted by the throwing of their darts, the Persian came down, and, when the avenger of his brother's love beat the waves with so many fleets, did sovereigns so numerous have one leader. Nor ever did races unite so varied in their dress, languages of people so different. 290 Nations thus numerous did Fortune arouse to send as companions in his mighty downfall, and as obsequies worthy of the end of Magnus. Horn-bearing Ammon did not delay to send the Marmarian troops to the warfare; however far parched Libya extends from the western Moors, 295 even to the Paraetonian Syrtes on the eastern shores. Lest fortunate Caesar might not meet with all at once, Pharsalia gave the whole world to be subdued at the same moment. He, when he quitted the walls of trembling Rome, swept across the cloud-capt Alps with his hastening troops; 300 and while other nations were alarmed with terror at his fame, the Phocaean youth amid doubtful fortunes dared to pre serve their fidelity with no Grecian fickleness, and their plighted faith, and to adhere to the cause and not the fortune. Yet first they attempted with peaceful words to modify the impetuous wrath and stubborn feelings 305 of the hero, and, a branch of the Cecropian Minerva being borne before, they entreated the approaching enemy in these terms: "That always in foreign wars Massilia took part in common with your people, whatever age is comprehended in the Latian annals, that same bears witness. 310 And now, if in an unknown world thou art seeking any triumphs, receive the right hands that are pledged to foreign warfare. But if, discordant, you are preparing a deadly strife, if direful battles, to civil arms we give our tears and our dissent. By our hands let no accursed wounds 315 be meddled with. If to the inhabitants of heaven fury had given arms, or if the earth-born Giants were aiming at the stars, still not either by arms or by prayers would human piety presume to give aid to Jove; and the mortal race, ignorant of the fortunes of the Gods, only by his lightnings would be sensible 320 that still the Thunderer reigns in heaven. Besides, nations innumerable are meeting together on every side, nor does the slothful world so shudder at the contact of wickedness that the civil war stands in need of coerced swords. Would, indeed, that there were the same feelings in all, that they would refuse to hurry 325 on your destiny, and that no strange soldier would wage these battles. On beholding his parent, whose right hand will not grow weak? Brothers, too, on opposite sides, will forbear to hurl the darts. An end is there to your state, if you do not wage war with those with whom it is lawful. This is the sum of our prayer; 330 leave the threatening eagles and the hostile standards afar from the city, and be willing to entrust thyself to our walls, and permit, Caesar being admitted, the warfare to be shut out. Let this place, exempt from crime, be safe to Magnus and to thee, that, if fate wishes well to the unconquered City, if a treaty 335 pleases, there may be a place to which you may repair unarmed. Or else, when the dangers so great of the Iberian warfare invite you, why do you turn aside to us in your rapid march? We are of no weight in affairs, we are not of moment, a multitude that never has enjoyed prospering arms, exiled from the original abodes of our country, 340 and, after the towers of burnt Phocis were transferred safe on foreign shores, within humble walls, whom fidelity alone makes renowned. If by siege thou dost prepare to block up our walls, and by force to break through our gates, we are prepared to receive on our roofs the torches and the darts, 345 to seek, the streams being turned aside, draughts of water rescued from your force, and, thirsting, to suck at the dug up earth; and, if bounteous Ceres should fail, then with stained jaws to eat things horrid to be looked upon and foul to be touched. Nor does this people fear to suffer for liberty that which 350 Saguntum, besieged in the Punic warfare, underwent. Torn from the bosoms of their mothers, and vainly drawing at the breasts dried up with thirst, the children shall be hurled into the midst of the flames. The wife, too, from her dear husband shall demand her death. Brothers shall exchange wounds, and by compulsion this civil war 355 in preference will they wage." Thus does the Grecian youth make an end; when, now betrayed by his agitated features, the anger of the chieftain at length in a loud voice testifies his sorrow: "Vainly does assurance of my haste encourage you Greeks. Even though we should be speeding onward to the furthest regions 360 of the west, still there is time to raze Massilia. Rejoice, ye cohorts; by the favour of the Fates a war is presented before you. As the wind loses its strength unless the dense woods meet it with their oaks, being dissipated in empty space; so it is harmful to me that foes should be wanting; 365 and we think it an injury to our arms, unless those who could be conquered rebel. But if I go alone, degenerate, with arms laid aside, then are their dwellings open to me. Now, not so much to shut me out, but to inclose me, do they wish. But yet they would keep afar the direful 370 contagion of war forsooth. You shall suffer retribution for suing for peace; and you shall learn that, during my life, there is nothing more safe than warfare, myself the leader." After he has thus spoken, he turns his march towards the fearless city; then he beholds the walls shut, and fortified by a dense band of youths. 375 Not far from the walls a mound of earth rising aloft, its top widening, spreads out a little plain; this rock seems to the chieftain fitted to be surrounded with a long fortification, and very well suited for a safe encampment. The nearest part of the city rises with a high citadel, equal in height 380 to the mound, and fields are situate in the valley between. Then did a thing please him, to be brought about with immense labour, to join the separated elevations by a vast mound. But first, that he might enclose the entire city, where it is surrounded by the earth, Caesar drew a long work from the camp to the sea, 385 and, encircling the springs and the pastures of the plain with a fosse, with turf and unmixed earth he raised outworks that elevated their numerous towers. Well worthy now to be remembered did this befall the Grecian city, and an eternal honor, that, not provoked at first, nor yet prostrated by 390 very fear, it stayed the headlong course of a war that raged on every side, and all others being seized instantaneously by Caesar, it alone was conquered with delay. How much is it that his destinies are stayed, and that Fortune, hastening to set her hero over the whole world, loses these days! Then far and wide do all the forests fall, 395 and the woods are spoiled of their oaks, that, as crumbling earth and twigs keep up the middle of the mass, the wood may keep close the earth knit together by the framed construction of its sides, that the mound being pressed down may not give way beneath the towers. There was a grove, never violated during long ages, 400 which with its knitted branches shut in the darkened air and the cold shade, the rays of the sun being far removed. This no rustic Pans, and Fauns and Nymphs all-powerful in the groves, possessed, but sacred rites of the Gods barbarous in their ceremonial, and elevations crowned with ruthless altars, 405 and every tree was stained with human gore. If at all, antiquity, struck with awe at the Gods of heaven, has been deserving of belief, upon these branches, too, the birds of the air dread to perch, and the wild beasts to lie in the caves; nor does any wind blow upon those groves, and lightnings hurled from the dense clouds; 410 a shuddering in themselves prevails among the trees that spread forth their branches to no breezes. Besides, from black springs plenteous water falls, and the saddened images of the Gods are devoid of art, and stand unsightly formed from hewn trunks. The very moldiness and paleness of the rotting wood now renders people 415 stricken with awe: not thus do they dread the Deities consecrated with ordinary forms; so much does it add to the terror not to know what Gods they are in dread of. Fame, too, reported that full oft the hollow caverns roared amid the earthquake, and that yews that had fallen rose again, 420 and that flames shone from a grove that did not burn, and that serpents embracing the oaks entwined around them. The people throng that place with no approaching worship, but have left it to the Gods. When Phoebus is in the mid sky, or dark night possesses the heavens, the priest himself dreads 425 the approach, and is afraid to meet with the guardian of the grove. This forest he commanded to fall beneath the aimed iron; for close by the works and untouched in former war it stood most dense in growth amid the bared mountains. But the valiant bands trembled, and, moved by the venerable 430 sanctity of the place, they believed that if they should touch the sacred oaks, the axes would rebound back against their own limbs. Caesar, when he beheld his cohorts involved in great alarm, first daring to poise a hatchet snatched up, and with the iron to cut down the towering oak, the iron 435 being buried in the violated wood, thus says: "Now then, that no one of you may hesitate to hew down the wood, believe that I have incurred the guilt." Then did all the throng obey, not, all fear removed, free from care, but the wrath of the Gods and of Caesar being weighed. 440 Down fall the ashes, the knotty holm-oak is hurled down; the wood of Dodona, too, and the alder more suited to the waves, the cypress, too, that bears witness to no plebeian funeral mourning, then first lay aside their foliage, and, spoiled of leaves, admit the day, and thrown down with its trunks thickly set 445 the falling wood supports itself. Looking on, the nations of the Gauls lament, but the youth shut up within the walls exult. For who can suppose that the Gods are insulted with impunity? Fortune spares many that are guilty; and only with the wretched can the Deities be angered. 450 And when enough of the grove is cut down, they bring wagons, sought amid the fields; and the husbandmen bewail, the oxen being carried off, the yearly produce of the soil relaxed from the curving plough. The general, however, impatient with a contest destined to linger on before the walls, turning towards the Spanish forces and the extremities of the world, 455 orders the warfare to be carried on. A mound is erected with props studded with iron, and receives two towers equaling the walls in height; these are fastened with no wood to the earth, but moved along a lengthened space, the cause lying concealed. When so great a mass was tottering, the youth supposed 460 that the wind seeking to burst forth had shaken the empty recesses of the earth, and wondered that their walls were standing. Thence did the darts fall upon the lofty citadel of the city. But a greater power was there in the Grecian weapons against the Roman bodies. For the lance, not hurled by arms alone, 465 but discharged by the tightened whirlwind force of the ballista, did not, content to pass through but one side, cease in its course; but, opening a way through both arms and through bones, death left behind, it flies on: after the wound a career still remains for the weapon. But as often as a stone is hurled by the vast impulse of the blow, 470 just as a rock, which old age, aided by the power of the winds, has separated from the height of the mountain, rushing onwards it bears down everything; and not only deprives of life the bodies it has dashed against, but scatters in every direction whole limbs together with the blood. But when, sheltered beneath the stout tortoise, valor approaches 475 the hostile walls, and the foremost bear arms connected with the arms of those behind, and the uplifted shield protects the helmet, those which, before hurled from the distant retreats, proved destructive, now fall behind their backs; nor is it now an essay task to the Greeks to direct their charges, or to change the level of their engines of war 480 adapted for hurling weapons to a distance; but, content with heavy masses alone, they hurl down stones with their bared arms. While the connected chain of arms exists, just as roofs rattle, struck by the harmless hailstones, so does it ward off all the missiles; but after the excited valor of the men, the soldiers 485 being wearied, breaks down the lengthened fence, single arms give way beneath the continuous blows.Then, covered with light earth, the mantelet moves on, concealed under the sheds and screened front of which they now attempt to undermine the lower part of the walls, and with iron implements to overthrow 490 them; now the battering ram, more mighty with its suspended blows, impelled endeavors to loosen the texture of the solid wall, and to strike away one from the stones placed above. But struck by flames from above and fragments of vast masses, and many a stake, and the blows of oaks hardened by fire, 495 the hurdle roof, smitten, gives way; and, his labor spent in vain, the wearied soldier seeks again the tents. It was at first the greatest wish of the Greeks that their walls might stand. Now, still further, they prepare to make a charge with their troops; and, attacking by night, they conceal under their arms blazing torches, and the bold 500 youth sally forth; no spear, no death-dealing bow, but fire, is the weapon of the men, and the wind sweeping onward the flames bears them throughout the Roman fortifications with a swift course. Nor, although it struggles with green timber, does the fire display slight strength; but borne away from every torch 505 it follows after extended volumes of black smoke; it consumes not only the wood but huge stones, and the solid rocks dissolve into dust. The mound falls prostrate, and as it lies still longer does it appear. Hope by land now departed from the conquered, and it pleased them 510 to try their fortune on the deep sea. Not with painted oak did file resplendent tutelary Deity grace the ornamented barks, but rough, and just as the tree falls on the mountains, is a firm surface put together for the naval warfare. And now, attending the towered ship of Brutus, the fleet 515 had come into the waves of the Rhone with the tide, making for the land of Stoechas. The Grecian youth as well was wishful to entrust all its strength to the Fates, and armed the aged men with the lads intermingled. Not only did the fleet, which was then standing on the waves, receive 520 the men; they sought again, too, the ships worn out in the dock-yards. When Phoebus, spreading his morning rays upon the seas, has refracted them on the waters, and the sky is free from clouds, and, Boreas being banished and the south winds holding their peace, prepared for the warfare the sea lies calm, each one moves 525 his ship from each station, and by equal arms on the one side the ships of Caesar, on the other by Grecian rowers the fleet is impelled; urged on by oars the ships shake again, and the repeated strokes move on the lofty barks. Both strong three-oared galleys, and those which the 530 rising ranks of rowers built up fourfold, move on, and those which dip in the seas still more pinewood oars, ships in numbers, surround the wings of the Roman fleet. This force breasts the open sea. In the center, in form of a crescent, the Liburnian barks, content to increase with two ranks of oars, fall back. 535 But the Praetorian ship of Brutus more lofty than all is impelled by six tiers of oars, and carries a tower along the deep, and seeks the seas from afar with its highest oars. Where there is just so much sea intervening that either fleet could cross over to the other with the oars once pulled, 540 innumerable voices are mingled in the vast expanse; and the sound of the oars is drowned in the clamor, nor can any trumpets be heard. Then they skim along the azure main, and stretch along the benches, and strike their breasts with the oars. When first beaks meeting beaks send forth a sound, 545 the ships run astern, and the hurled darts as they fall fill the air and the vacant deep. And now, the prows separated, the wings extend, and, the fleet sundered, the opposing ships are received. Just as, so oft as the tide struggles against the Zephyrs and the eastern 550 gales, in this direction run the waves, in that the sea; so, when the ships in the ploughed-up tide describe their varying tracks, the sea which the one fleet impels onwards with its oars, the other beats back. But the pine-tree ships of the Greeks were skilful both to challenge to the battle and to resort to flight, and to change their course with 555 no wide sweep, and with no tardiness to obey the turning helm. But the Roman ship was more sure in affording a keel firmly laid, and convenience to the warriors equal to the dry land. Then said Brutus to the pilot sitting at the ensigned-bearing stem: "Dost thou suffer the battle to be shifting about upon the deep, 560 and dost thou contend with the vagaries of the ocean? Now close the warfare; oppose the mid part of the vessels to the Phocaean beaks." He obeyed, and sidelong he laid the alder barks before the foe. Then, whatever ship tried the oaken sides of that of Brutus, conquered by her own blow, captured, she stuck fast to the one she had struck. 565 But others both grappling-irons united and smooth chains, and they held themselves on by the oars; on the covered sea the warfare stood fixed to the same spot. Now no longer are the darts hurled from the shaken arms, nor do the wounds fall from afar by means of the hurled weapons; and hand meets hand. In a naval fight the sword effects the most. 570 Each one stands upon the bulwark of his own ship, facing full the blows of the enemy; and none fall slain in their own vessels. The deep blood foams in the waves, and the tide is thickened with clotted gore. The ships, too, which the chains of iron thrown on board are dragging, 575 the same do the dead bodies clogged together hinder from being united. Some, half-dead, fall into the vast deep, and drink of the sea mingled with their own blood. Some, adhering to life struggling with slowly-coming death, perish in the sudden wreck of the dismantled ships. 580 Javelins, missing their aim, accomplish their slaughter in the sea, and whatever weapon falls, with its weight used to no purpose, finds a wound on being received in the midst of the waves. A Roman ship hemmed in by Phocaean barks, its crew divided, with equal warfare defends the right side and 585 the left; from the high stern of which, while Tagus maintains the fight, and boldly seizes hold of the Grecian flag, he is pierced both in back and breast at the same moment by hurled darts; in the midst of his breast the iron meets, and the blood stands, uncertain from which wound to flow, 590 until the plenteous gore at the same time expels both the spears, and rends asunder his life, and scatters death in the wounds. Hither also the right hand of hapless Telon directed his ship, than which no hand more aptly, when the sea was boisterous, did the barks obey; nor was the morrow's weather better known 595 to any one, whether he looks at Phoebus or whether at the horns of the moon, in order always to trim the sails to the coming winds. He with the beak had broken the ribs of a Latian bark; but quivering javelins entered the middle of his breast, and the right hand of the dying pilot turned away the ship. 600 While Gyareus attempted to leap on board the friendly bark, he received the iron driven through his suspended entrails, and pinned to the ship, the dart holding him back, there he hung. Two twin brothers are standing, the glory of their fruitful mother, whom the same womb bore to differing fates. 605 Cruel death separates the heroes; and the wretched parents recognize the one left behind, all mistake being now removed, a cause for everlasting tears. He always renews their grief, and presents his lost brother to them as they mourn. Of these, the one, the oars of two ships being mingled sideways, comb-like indented, 610 dares from a Grecian stern to lay hands upon a Roman bark, but from above a heavy blow lops it off; still, however, with the effort with which it has grasped it keeps hold, and as it dies, holding fast with tightened nerve, it stiffens. By his mischance his valor waxes stronger; mutilated, more high-spirited 615 wrath has he, and he renews the combat with valorous left hand, and about to tear away his right hand he stretches out over the waves. This hand, too, is cut off with the entire arm. Now deprived of shield and weapons, he is not stowed away in the bottom of the ship, but, exposed and covering his brother's arms 620 with his naked breast, pierced by many a spear, he still persists; and weapons that were to have fallen to the destruction of many of his own friends he receives with a death that he has now earned. Then he summons his life, fleeting with many a wound, into his wearied limbs, and nerves his members with all the blood that is remaining, 625 and, his members failing in strength, he leaps on board the hostile bark, destined to injure it by his weight alone. The ship, heaped up with the slaughter of the men, and filled with much blood, received numerous blows on its slanting sides. But after, its ribs broken, it let in the sea being filled to the top 630 of the hatches, it descended into the waves, sucking in the neighboring waters with a whirling eddy. Cleft asunder by the sunk ship, the waves divided, and in the place of the bark the sea closed up. Many wondrous instances of various fates besides did that day afford upon the main. 635 While a grappling-iron was fastening its grasping hooks upon a ship, it fixed on Lycidas. He would have been sunk in the deep; but his friends hindered it and held fast his suspended thighs. Torn away he is rent in two; nor, as though from a wound, does his blood slowly flow; the veins torn asunder, on every side it falls; 640 and the downward flow of his life's blood passing into his rent limbs is intercepted by the waters. The life of no one slain is parted with by a passage so great; the lower part of him mutilated gives to death the limbs deprived of their vitals; but where the swelling lungs are situate, where the entrails are warm, 645 there does death delay for a long time; and having struggled much with this portion of the man, hardly does it take possession of all the limbs. While, too eager for fight, the company of one ship is pressing straight against the side, and leaves the deck empty where it is free from the enemy, the vessel, overturned by the 650 accumulated weight, within its hollow hull encloses both sea and sailors; nor is it allowed them to throw out their arms in the vast deep, but they perish in the enclosed waves. Then was a remarkable kind of dreadful death beheld, when by chance ships of opposite sides transfixed with their beaks a youth as he swam. 655 His breast divided in the middle at such mighty blows; nor with the ground bones were the limbs able to prevent the brazen beaks from re-echoing. His middle burst asunder, through his mouth the blood, mingled with the entrails, spouted forth corrupt matter. After they backed the ships with the oars, and the beaks withdrew, 660 the body, with the pierced breast, being cast into the sea admitted the water into the wounds. The greatest part of a crew being shipwrecked, struggling against death with expanded arms, rushed to receive the aid of a friendly ship; but when they caught hold of the woodwork on high with forbidden arms, and the bark, 665 likely to perish, swayed to and fro from the multitude received, the impious crew from above struck at the middle of their arms with the sword: leaving their arms hanging from the Grecian ship, they were slain by the hands of their own side; no longer did the waves support on the surface of the sea the heavy trunks. 670 And now, all the soldiers stripped bare, the weapons being expended, fury finds arms; one hurls an oar at the foe; but others whirl round with stout arms the wrenched-up flag-staff, and the benches torn away, the rowers being driven off. For the purposes of fighting they break up the ships. The bodies slain 675 they catch as they are falling overboard, and spoil the carcasses of the weapons. Many, wanting darts, draw the deadly javelin wrenched out from their own entrails, and with the left hand clench fast their wounds, so that the blood may allow a firm blow, and may start forth after having hurled the hostile spear. 680 Yet upon this ocean nothing causes more destruction than the antagonist opposed to the sea. For fire fixed to unctuous torches, and alive, beneath a covering of sulphur, is spread about; but the ships ready to afford a nutriment, now with pitch, now with melted wax, spread the conflagration. 685 Nor do the waves conquer the flames; and, the barks now scattered over the sea, the fierce fire claims the fragments for itself. This one takes to the waves, that in the sea he may extinguish the flames; these, that they may not be drowned, cling to the burning spars. Amid a thousand forms of death, that single end is an object of dread, 690 by which they have begun to perish. Nor is their valor idle in shipwreck. They collect darts thrown up by the sea, and supply them to the ships, and with failing efforts ply their erring hands through the waves. Now if but small the supply of weapons that is afforded, they make use of the sea. Fierce enemy clutches hold of 695 enemy, and they delight to sink with arms entwined, and to die drowning the foe. In that mode of fighting there was one Phocaean skilled at keeping his breath beneath the waves, and examining in the sea if anything had been sunk in the sands, and at wrenching up the tooth of the fluke too firmly fixed, 700 as often as the anchor had proved insensible to the tightened rope. He took the enemy quite down when grappled with, and then, victorious, returned to the surface of the water; but, while he believed that he was rising amid the vacant waves, he met with the ships, and at last remained for good beneath the sea. 705 Some threw their arms around the hostile oars, and withheld the flight of the ships. Not to throw away their deaths was the greatest care; many a one, dying, applied his wounds to the stern, and warded off the blows from the beaks. Lygdamus, a slinger with the Balearic sling, aiming with 710 the hurled bullet at Tyrrhenus as he stood on the lofty elevation of the prow, shattered his hollow temples with the solid lead. Expelled from their sockets, after the blood had burst all the ligaments, the eyes started forth; his sight destroyed, he stood amazed, and thought that this was the darkness of death; 715 but after he found that strength existed in his limbs, he said: "You, O companions, just as you are wont to direct the missiles, place me also straight in a direction for hurling darts. Employ, Tyrrhenus, what remains of life in all the chances of war. This carcass, when dead, in a great degree 720 is of considerable use to the warriors; in the place of one living shalt thou be struck by the blow." Thus having said, with aimless hand he hurled the dart against the foe, but still not without effect. This Argus, a youth of noble blood, received, not quite where the midriff slopes down to the loins, 725 and falling down he aided the weapon with his own weight. Now stood the unhappy sire of Argus in the opposite part of the conquered ship; in the days of his youth he would not have yielded to any one in Phocaean arms: conquered by age his strength had decayed, and, worn out with old age, 730 he was a model of valor, not a soldier. He, seeing the death, often stumbling, being an aged man, came between the benches of the long ship to the stern, and found the panting limbs. No tears fell from his cheeks, he did not beat his breast, but grew stiff all over his body with distended hands. 735 Night came on, and dense shades spread over his eyes, and as he looked upon him he ceased to recognize the wretched Argus. He sinking, on seeing his father, raised his head and his now languid neck; no voice issued from his loosened jaws; only with his silent features did he ask a kiss 740 and invite his father's right hand to close his eyes. When the old man was relieved from his torpor, and his grief, caused by the bloodshed, began to gain strength, "I will not," he exclaimed, "lose the time granted by the cruel Gods, and I will pierce my aged throat. Argus, grant pardon to thy wretched parent, 745 that I have fled from thy embrace, thy last kisses. The warm blood has not yet quitted thy wounds, and but half-dead thou dost lie, and mayst still be the survivor." Thus having said, although he had stained the hilt of the sword driven through his entrails, still, with a headlong leap, he descended 750 beneath the deep waves. His life hastening to precede the end of his son he did not entrust to but one form of death. Now do the fates of the chieftains take a turn, nor is the event of the warfare any longer doubtful: of the Grecian fleet the greatest part is sunk; but other ships, changing their rowers, carry their 755 own conquerors; a few with precipitate flight reach their haven. What wailing of parents was there in the city! What lamentations of matrons along the shore! Often did the wife, the features being disfigured by the waves, embracing the dead body of a Roman, believe them to be the features of her husband; 760 and, the funeral pile being lighted, wretched parents contended for the mutilated body. But Brutus, victorious on the deep, added to the arms of Caesar the first honor gained on the waves.