On Tullus great in heart, And bound to Cato with admiring soul, A fierce Haemorrhois fixed.

From every limb, (27) (As from a statue saffron spray is showered In every part) there spouted forth for blood A sable poison: from the natural pores Of moisture, gore profuse; his mouth was filled And gaping nostrils, and his tears were blood.
Brimmed full his veins; his very sweat was red; All was one wound.
Then piteous Levus next In sleep was victim, for around his heart Stood still the blood congealed: no pain he felt Of venomous tooth, but swift upon him fell Death, and he sought the shades; more swift to kill No draught in poisonous cups from ripened plants Of direst growth Sabaean wizards brew.
Lo! Upon branchless trunk a serpent, named By Libyans Jaculus, rose in coils to dart His venom from afar.

Through Paullus' brain It rushed, nor stayed; for in the wound itself Was death.

Then did they know how slowly flies, Flung from a sling, the stone; how gently speed Through air the shafts of Scythia.
What availed, Murrus, the lance by which thou didst transfix A Basilisk?
Swift through the weapon ran The poison to his hand: he draws his sword And severs arm and shoulder at a blow: Then gazed secure upon his severed hand Which perished as he looked.

So had'st thou died, And such had been thy fate! Whoe'er had thought A scorpion had strength o'er death or fate?
Yet with his threatening coils and barb erect He won the glory of Orion (28) slain; So bear the stars their witness.