Book I
THE CROSSING OF THE RUBICON
21
'Where Nar with Tiber joins: and where, in meads
'By oxen loved, Mevania spreads her walls,
'Fierce Cæsar hurries his barbarian horse.
'Eagles and standards wave above his head,
'And broad the march that sweeps across the land.'
Nor is he pictured truly; greater far
More fierce and pitiless—from conquered foes
Advancing; in his rear the peoples march.
Snatched from their homes between the Rhine and Alps,
To pillage Rome while Roman chiefs look on. 540
Thus each man's panic thought swells rumour's lie:
They fear the phantoms they themselves create.
Nor does the terror seize the crowd alone:
But fled the Fathers, to the Consuls[1] first
Issuing their hated order, as for war;
And doubting of their safety, doubting too
Where lay the peril, through the choking gates,
Each where he would, rushed all the people forth.
Thou would'st believe that blazing to the torch
Were men's abodes, or nodding to their fall. 550
So streamed they onwards, frenzied with affright,
As though in exile only could they find
Hope for their country. So, when southern blasts
From Libyan whirlpools drive the boundless main,
And mast and sail crash down upon a ship
With ponderous weight, but still the frame is sound,
Her crew and captain leap into the sea,
Each making shipwreck for himself. 'Twas thus
They passed the city gates and fled to war.
No aged parent now could stay his son; 560
Nor wife her spouse, nor did they pray the gods
To grant the safety of their fatherland.
'By oxen loved, Mevania spreads her walls,
'Fierce Cæsar hurries his barbarian horse.
'Eagles and standards wave above his head,
'And broad the march that sweeps across the land.'
Nor is he pictured truly; greater far
More fierce and pitiless—from conquered foes
Advancing; in his rear the peoples march.
Snatched from their homes between the Rhine and Alps,
To pillage Rome while Roman chiefs look on. 540
Thus each man's panic thought swells rumour's lie:
They fear the phantoms they themselves create.
Nor does the terror seize the crowd alone:
But fled the Fathers, to the Consuls[1] first
Issuing their hated order, as for war;
And doubting of their safety, doubting too
Where lay the peril, through the choking gates,
Each where he would, rushed all the people forth.
Thou would'st believe that blazing to the torch
Were men's abodes, or nodding to their fall. 550
So streamed they onwards, frenzied with affright,
As though in exile only could they find
Hope for their country. So, when southern blasts
From Libyan whirlpools drive the boundless main,
And mast and sail crash down upon a ship
With ponderous weight, but still the frame is sound,
Her crew and captain leap into the sea,
Each making shipwreck for himself. 'Twas thus
They passed the city gates and fled to war.
No aged parent now could stay his son; 560
Nor wife her spouse, nor did they pray the gods
To grant the safety of their fatherland.
