But care on care pursues them to the last,
Their souls assailed and vexed by every blast.
As seas on Libya's sandy shore
Their waves in ceaseless billows pour; 65
As Euxine's swelling waters rise
Beneath the lowering northern skies,
Where bright Boötes wheels his team
High o'er the ocean's darksome stream: 70
With such assaults, by such wild tempests blown,
Does fortune batter at a kingly throne!
Who would be feared, in fear must live.
No kindly night can refuge give;
Nor sleep, that comforts all the rest, 75
Can bring care-freedom to his breast.
What throne so safe, on such foundation stands,
That may not be destroyed by impious hands?
For justice, shame, the virtues all,
E'en wifely faith, soon flee the hall 80
Where courtiers dwell. Within, there stands
Bellona dire with bloody hands;
Erinys too, the dogging fate,
Of them who hold too high estate,
Which any hour from high to low may bring. 85
Though arms be lacking, wiles be none,
Still is the will of fortune done:
By force of his own greatness falls the king.
'Tis ever thus: the bellying sail 90
Fears the o'erstrong though favoring gale;
The tower feels rainy Auster's dread
If to the clouds it rear its head;
Huge oaks most feel the whirlwind's lash; 95
High mountains most with thunder crash;
And while the common herd in safety feeds,
Their mighty leader, marked for slaughter, bleeds 100
Fate places us on high, that so
To surer ruin we may go.
