Let the hidden fates Tell through thy voice the mysteries to come." Thus spake she, and her words by mystic force Gave him his answer; but with gloomy mien, And tears swift flowing, thus he made reply: "Called from the margin of the silent stream I saw no fateful sisters spin the threads.
Yet know I this, that 'mid the Roman shades Reigns fiercest discord; and this impious war Destroys the peace that ruled the fields of death.
Elysian meads and deeps of Tartarus In paths diverse the Roman chieftains leave And thus disclose the fates.

The blissful ghosts Bear visages of sorrow.

Sire and son The Decii, who gave themselves to death In expiation of their country's doom, And great Camillus, wept; and Sulla's shade Complained of fortune.

Scipio bewailed The scion of his race about to fall In sands of Libya: Cato, greatest foe To Carthage, grieves for that indignant soul Which shall disdain to serve.

Brutus alone In all the happy ranks I smiling saw, First consul when the kings were thrust from Rome.
The chains were fallen from boastful Catiline.
Him too I saw rejoicing, and the pair Of Marii, and Cethegus' naked arm.