Not the shore Of humble Sason (33), nor Thessalia's coast Indented, not Ambracia's scanty ports Dismay the sailors, but the giddy tops Of high Ceraunia's cliffs.
But Caesar now, Thinking the peril worthy of his fates: "Are such the labours of the gods ?" exclaimed, "Bent on my downfall have they sought me thus, Here in this puny skiff in such a sea?
If to the deep the glory of my fall Is due, and not to war, intrepid still Whatever death they send shall strike me down.
Let fate cut short the deeds that I would do And hasten on the end: the past is mine.
The northern nations fell beneath my sword; My dreaded name compels the foe to flee.
Pompeius yields me place; the people's voice Gave at my order what the wars denied.
And all the titles which denote the powers Known to the Roman state my name shall bear.
Let none know this but thou who hear'st my prayers, Fortune, that Caesar summoned to the shades, Dictator, Consul, full of honours, died Ere his last prize was won.

I ask no pomp Of pyre or funeral; let my body lie Mangled beneath the waves: I leave a name That men shall dread in ages yet to come And all the earth shall honour." Thus he spake, When lo! a tenth gigantic billow raised The feeble keel, and where between the rocks A cleft gave safety, placed it on the shore.
Thus in a moment fortune, kingdoms, lands, Once more were Caesar's.
But on his return When daylight came, he entered not the camp Silent as when he parted; for his friends Soon pressed around him, and with weeping eyes In accents welcome to his ears began: "Whither in reckless daring hast thou gone, Unpitying Caesar?
Were these humble lives Left here unguarded while thy limbs were given, Unsought for, to be scattered by the storm?
When on thy breath so many nations hang For life and safety, and so great a world Calls thee its master, to have courted death Proves want of heart.

Was none of all thy friends Deserving held to join his fate with thine?
When thou wast tossed upon the raging deep We lay in slumber! Shame upon such sleep! And why thyself didst seek Italia's shores?
'Twere cruel (such thy thought) to speak the word That bade another dare the furious sea.
All men must bear what chance or fate may bring, The sudden peril and the stroke of death; But shall the ruler of the world attempt The raging ocean?
With incessant prayers Why weary heaven?
is it indeed enough To crown the war, that Fortune and the deep Have cast thee on our shores?
And would'st thou use The grace of favouring deities, to gain Not lordship, not the empire of the world, But lucky shipwreck!" Night dispersed, and soon The sun beamed on them, and the wearied deep, The winds permitting, lulled its waves to rest.
And when Antonius saw a breeze arise Fresh from a cloudless heaven, to break the sea, He loosed his ships which, by the pilots' hands And by the wind in equal order held, Swept as a marching host across the main.
But night unfriendly from the seamen snatched All governance of sail, parting the ships In divers paths asunder.

Like as cranes Deserting frozen Strymon for the streams Of Nile, when winter falls, in casual lines Of wedge-like figures (34) first ascend the sky; But when in loftier heaven the southern breeze Strikes on their pinions tense, in loose array Dispersed at large, in flight irregular, They wing their journey onwards.

Stronger winds With day returning blew the navy on, Past Lissus' shelter which they vainly sought, Till bare to northern blasts, Nymphaeum's port, But safe in southern, gave the fleet repose, For favouring winds came on.
When Magnus knew That Caesar's troops were gathered in their strength And that the war for quick decision called Before his camp, Cornelia he resolved To send to Lesbos' shore, from rage of fight Safe and apart: so lifting from his soul The weight that burdened it.