Pharsalia; Dramatic Episodes of the Civil Wars. Lucan

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СКАЧАТЬ With foul disease, and on the hostile part

       The angry veins defiant; of the lungs

       The fibre hid, and through the vital parts

       The membrane small; the heart had ceased to throb;

       Blood oozes through the ducts; the caul is split:

       And, fatal omen of impending ill,

       One lobe o'ergrows the other; of the twain

       The one lies flat and sick, the other beats

       And keeps the pulse in rapid strokes astir.

      Disaster's near approach thus learned, he cries —

       "Whate'er may be the purpose of the gods,

       'Tis not for me to tell; this offered beast

       Not Jove possesses, but the gods below.

       We dare not speak our fears, yet fear doth make

       The future worse than fact. May all the gods

       Prosper the tokens, and the sacrifice

       Be void of truth, and Tages (famous seer)

       Have vainly taught these mysteries." Such his words

       Involved, mysterious. Figulus, to whom

       For knowledge of the secret depths of space

       And laws harmonious that guide the stars,

       Memphis could find no peer, then spake at large:

       "Either," he said, "the world and countless orbs

       Throughout the ages wander at their will;

       Or, if the fates control them, ruin huge

       Hangs o'er this city and o'er all mankind.

       Shall Earth yawn open and engulph the towns?

       Shall scorching heat usurp the temperate air

       And fields refuse their timely fruit? The streams

       Flow mixed with poison? In what plague, ye gods,

       In what destruction shall ye wreak your ire?

       Whate'er the truth, the days in which we live

       Shall find a doom for many. Had the star

       Of baleful Saturn, frigid in the height,

       Kindled his lurid fires, the sky had poured

       Its torrents forth as in Deucalion's time,

       And whelmed the world in waters. Or if thou,

       Phoebus, beside the Nemean lion fierce

       Wert driving now thy chariot, flames should seize

       The universe and set the air ablaze.

       These are at peace; but, Mars, why art thou bent

       On kindling thus the Scorpion, his tail

       Portending evil and his claws aflame?

       Deep sunk is kindly Jupiter, and dull

       Sweet Venus' star, and rapid Mercury

       Stays on his course: Mars only holds the sky.

       Why does Orion's sword too brightly shine?

       Why planets leave their paths and through the void

       Thus journey on obscure? 'Tis war that comes,

       Fierce rabid war: the sword shall bear the rule

       Confounding justice; hateful crime usurp

       The name of virtue; and the havoc spread

       Through many a year. But why entreat the gods?

       The end Rome longs for and the final peace

       Comes with a despot. Draw thou out thy chain

       Of lengthening slaughter, and (for such thy fate)

       Make good thy liberty through civil war."

      The frightened people heard, and as they heard

       His words prophetic made them fear the more.

       But worse remained; for as on Pindus' slopes

       Possessed with fury from the Theban god

       Speeds some Bacchante, thus in Roman streets

       Behold a matron run, who, in her trance,

       Relieves her bosom of the god within.

      "Where dost thou snatch me, Paean, to what shore

       Through airy regions borne? I see the snows

       Of Thracian mountains; and Philippi's plains

       Lie broad beneath. But why these battle lines,

       No foe to vanquish — Rome on either hand?

       Again I wander 'neath the rosy hues

       That paint thine eastern skies, where regal Nile

       Meets with his flowing wave the rising tide.

       Known to mine eyes that mutilated trunk

       That lies upon the sand! Across the seas

       By changing whirlpools to the burning climes

       Of Libya borne, again I see the hosts

       From Thracia brought by fate's command. And now

       Thou bear'st me o'er the cloud-compelling Alps

       And Pyrenean summits; next to Rome.

       There in mid-Senate see the closing scene

       Of this foul war in foulest murder done.

       Again the factions rise; through all the world

       Once more I pass; but give me some new land,

       Some other region, Phoebus, to behold!

       Washed by the Pontic billows! for these eyes

       Already once have seen Philippi's plains!" (28)

      The frenzy left her and she speechless fell.

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