[Pharsalia; Dramatic Episodes of the Civil Wars by Lucan]@TWC D-Link bookPharsalia; Dramatic Episodes of the Civil Wars BOOK VIII 24/35
What! shalt thou A Roman soldier, while thy blade yet reeks From Magnus' slaughter, play the second part To this base varlet of the Pharian king? Nor bear thyself the bleeding trophy home? Then, that the impious boy (ah! shameful fate) Might know the features of the hero slain, Seized by the locks, the dread of kings, which waved Upon his stately front, on Pharian pike The head was lifted; while almost the life Gave to the tongue its accents, and the eyes Were yet scarce glazed: that head at whose command Was peace or war, that tongue whose eloquent tones Would move assemblies, and that noble brow On which were showered the rewards of Rome. Nor to the tyrant did the sight suffice To prove the murder done.
The perishing flesh, The tissues, and the brain he bids remove By art nefarious: the shrivelled skin Draws tight upon the bone; and poisonous juice Gives to the face its lineaments in death. Last of thy race, thou base degenerate boy, About to perish (20) soon, and yield the throne To thine incestuous sister; while the Prince From Macedon here in consecrated vault Now rests, and ashes of the kings are closed In mighty pyramids, and lofty tombs Of thine unworthy fathers mark the graves; Shall Magnus' body hither and thither borne Be battered, headless, by the ocean wave? Too much it troubled thee to guard the corse Unmutilated, for his kinsman's eye To witness! Such the faith which Fortune kept With prosperous Pompeius to the end. 'Twas not for him in evil days some ray Of light to hope for.
Shattered from the height Of power in one short moment to his death! Years of unbroken victories balanced down By one day's carnage! In his happy time Heaven did not harass him, nor did she spare In misery.
Long Fortune held the hand That dashed him down.
Now beaten by the sands, Torn upon rocks, the sport of ocean's waves Poured through its wounds, his headless carcase lies, Save by the lacerated trunk unknown. Yet ere the victor touched the Pharian sands Some scanty rites to Magnus Fortune gave, Lest he should want all burial.
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