38
PHARSALIA
Book II
'Which Sulla made, and place his loved remains
'On the forbidden pyre. The head I found,
'But not the butchered corse.
'Why now renew
'The tale of Catulus's shade appeased? 200
'And those dread tortures which the living frame
'Of Marius[1] suffered at the tomb of him
'Who haply wished them not? Pierced, mangled, torn —
'Nor speech nor grasp was left: his every limb
'Maimed, hacked and riven; yet the fatal blow
'The murderers with savage purpose spared.
''Twere scarce believed that one poor mortal frame
'Such agonies could bear e'er death should come.
'Thus crushed beneath some ruin lie the dead;
'Thus shapeless from the deep are borne the drowned. 210
'Why spoil delight by mutilating thus,
'The head of Marius? To please Sulla's heart
'That mangled visage must be known to all.
'Fortune, high goddess of Præneste's fane,
'Saw all her townsmen hurried to their deaths
'In one fell instant. All the hope of Rome,
'The flower of Latium, stained with blood the field
'Where once the peaceful tribes their votes declared.
'Famine and Sword, the raging sky and sea,
'And Earth upheaved, have laid such numbers low: 220
'But ne'er one man's revenge. Between the slain
'And living victims there was space no more,
'Death thus let slip, to deal the fatal blow.
'Hardly when struck they fell; the severed head
'Scarce toppled from the shoulders; but the slain
'Blent in a weighty pile of massacre
'Pressed out the life and helped the murderer's arm.
'Secure from stain upon his lofty throne,
'On the forbidden pyre. The head I found,
'But not the butchered corse.
'Why now renew
'The tale of Catulus's shade appeased? 200
'And those dread tortures which the living frame
'Of Marius[1] suffered at the tomb of him
'Who haply wished them not? Pierced, mangled, torn —
'Nor speech nor grasp was left: his every limb
'Maimed, hacked and riven; yet the fatal blow
'The murderers with savage purpose spared.
''Twere scarce believed that one poor mortal frame
'Such agonies could bear e'er death should come.
'Thus crushed beneath some ruin lie the dead;
'Thus shapeless from the deep are borne the drowned. 210
'Why spoil delight by mutilating thus,
'The head of Marius? To please Sulla's heart
'That mangled visage must be known to all.
'Fortune, high goddess of Præneste's fane,
'Saw all her townsmen hurried to their deaths
'In one fell instant. All the hope of Rome,
'The flower of Latium, stained with blood the field
'Where once the peaceful tribes their votes declared.
'Famine and Sword, the raging sky and sea,
'And Earth upheaved, have laid such numbers low: 220
'But ne'er one man's revenge. Between the slain
'And living victims there was space no more,
'Death thus let slip, to deal the fatal blow.
'Hardly when struck they fell; the severed head
'Scarce toppled from the shoulders; but the slain
'Blent in a weighty pile of massacre
'Pressed out the life and helped the murderer's arm.
'Secure from stain upon his lofty throne,
- ↑ The brother of the Consul.
