---
title: "Pharsalia · De Bello Civili"
author: "Lucan"
translator: "Sir Edward Ridley"
languages: [la, en]
shelf: "Classical Latin"
section: 18 of 21
url: https://scriptura.si/works/lucan-pharsalia/18/
cite: "Lucan, tr. Sir Edward Ridley, Pharsalia · De Bello Civili, section 18. Scriptura (scriptura.si), https://scriptura.si/works/lucan-pharsalia/18/"
---

# Pharsalia · De Bello Civili

*Lucan, tr. Sir Edward Ridley*

The civil war between Caesar and Pompey as dark epic, written under Nero by a poet he forced to die at twenty-five.

> Latin: ed. Karl Hermann Weise, from the Perseus Digital Library (canonical-latinLit, phi0917.phi001, CC BY-SA 4.0).

> English: Sir Edward Ridley, from the Perseus Digital Library (phi0917.phi001.perseus-eng2). Notes are not included.

> Rows follow the references the two texts share (line numbers), cut where both reach the end of a sentence.

## 18. Book IX · lines 410–838

Source: https://scriptura.si/works/lucan-pharsalia/18/ · cite a paragraph as https://scriptura.si/works/lucan-pharsalia/18/#p-N

[¶0] One-third of all the world, if fame we trust,
Is Libya; yet by winds and sky she proves
Equal to Europe; for the shores of Nile
No more than Scythian Tanais are remote
From furthest Gades, where with bending coast,
Yielding a place to Ocean, Europe parts
From Afric shores. Yet falls the larger world
To Asia only. From the former two
Issues the Western wind; but Asia's right
Touches the Southern limits and her left
The Northern tempest's home, and of the East
She's mistress to the rising of the Sun.
All that is fertile of the Afric lands
Lies to the west, but even here abound
No wells of water: though the Northern wind,
Infrequent, leaving us with skies serene,
Falls there in showers. Not gold nor wealth of brass
It yields the seeker; pure and unalloyed
Down to its lowest depths is Libyan soil.
Yet citron forests to Maurusian tribes
Were riches, had they known; but they, content,
Lived 'neath the shady foliage, till gleamed
The axe of Rome amid the virgin grove,
To bring from furthest limits of the world
Our banquet tables and the fruit they bear.
But suns excessive and a scorching clime
Burn all the glebe beside the shifting sands:
There die the harvests on the crumbling mould;
No root finds sustenance, nor kindly Jove
Makes rich the furrow nor matures the vine.
Sleep binds all nature and the tract of sand
Lies ever fruitless, save that by the coast
The hardy Nasamon plucks a scanty grass.
Unclothed their race, and living on the woes
Worked by the cruel Syrtes on the world.
He dwells a spoiler by the sandy waves,
And while no ships unlade upon his shore,
Grows rich by wrecks-his only trade with man.
By such a path at hardy Cato's word
His soldiers passed, in thought from winds secure
Nor dreading storms: but fearful was their lot
More than on ocean waves; for Auster's force
Here strikes with greater strength upon the sands,
And yet more fraught with mischief: neither crags
Repelled his strength, nor lofty mountains tamed
His furious onset, nor in sturdy woods
He found a bar; but free from curb he raged
O'er the defenceless earth. Nor merely dust
Swirled up in drifts of rain, but Earth herself,
In major part, was rapt into the air
On ceaseless whirlwinds borne, until amazed
The Nasamon saw his scanty field and home
Reft by the tempest, and the native huts
From roof to base were hurried on the blast.
Not higher, when some all-devouring flame
Has seized upon its prey, in volumes dense
Rolls up the smoke, and darkens all the air.
Then with fresh might he fell upon the host
Of marching Romans, snatching from their feet
The sand they trod. Had Auster been enclosed
In some vast cavernous vault with solid walls
And mighty barriers, he had moved the world
Upon its ancient base and made the lands
To tremble: but the facile Libyan soil
By not resisting stood, and blasts that whirled
The surface upwards left the depths unmoved.
Helmet and shield and spear were torn away
By his most violent breath, and borne aloft
Through all the regions of the boundless sky;
Perchance a wonder in some distant land,
Where men may fear the weapons from the heaven
There falling, as the armour of the gods,
Nor deem them ravished from a soldier's arm.
'Twas thus on Numa by the sacred fire
Those shields descended which our chosen priests
Bear on their shoulders; from some warlike race
By tempest rapt, to be the prize of Rome.
While thus the tempest whirled the earth aloft
Prone fell the host, and wound their garments tight,
And gripped the soil; but hardly thus prevailed.
Weight had not held them safe; the raging blast
Piles heaps upon them, their recumbent limbs
Are whelmed in sand. At length they struggling rose
Back to their feet, when lo! around them stood,
Forced by the storm, a growing bank of earth
Which held them motionless. And from afar
Where walls lay prostrate, mighty stones were hurled,
Thus piling ills on ills in wondrous form:
No dwellings had they seen, yet at their feet
Beheld the ruins. All the earth was hid
In vast envelopment, nor found they guide
Save from the stars, which as in middle deep
Flamed o'er them wandering: yet some were hid
Beneath the circle of the Libyan earth
Which tending downwards hid the Northern sky.
When warmth dispersed the tempest-driven air,
And rose upon the earth the flaming day,
Bathed were their limbs in sweat, but parched and dry
Their gaping lips; when to a scanty spring
Far off beheld they came, whose meagre drops
All gathered in the hollow of a helm
They offered to their chief. Caked were their throats
With dust, and panting; and one little drop
Had made him envied. 'Wretch, and dost thou deem
Me wanting in a brave man's heart? ' he cried,
' Me only in this throng? And have I seemed
'Tender, unfit to bear the morning heat?
He who would quench his thirst 'mid such a host,
'Doth most deserve its pangs.' Then in his wrath
Dashed down the helmet, and the scanty spring,
Thus by their leader spurned, sufficed for all.

> Latin: Invasit Libye securi fata Catonis.
Tertia pars rerum Libye, si credere famae
Cuncta velis: at si ventos coelumque sequaris,
Pars erit Europae. Neque enim plus litora Nili,
Quam Scythicus Tanais primis a Gadibus absunt,
Unde Europa fugit Libyen, et litora flexu
Oceano fecere locum: sed maior in unam
Orbis abit Asiam. Nam cum communiter istae
Effundant Zephyrum, Boreae latus illa sinistrum
Contingens, dextrumque Noti, descendit in ortus,
Eurum sola tenens. Libycae quod fertile terrae est,
Vergit in occasus: sed et haec non fontibus ullis
Solvitur: Arctoos raris Aquilonibus imbres
Accipit, et nostris reficit sua rura serenis.
In nullas vitiatur opes; non aere neque auro
Excoquitur, nullo glebarum crimine, pura,
Et penitus terra est. Tantum Maurusia genti
Robora divitiae, quarum non noverat usum,
Sed citri contenta comis vivebat, et umbris.
In nemus ignotum nostrae venere secures,
Extremoque epulas mensasque petivimus orbe.
At quaecumque vagam Syrtim complectitur ora
Sub nimio porrecta die, vicina perusti
Aetheris, exurit messes, et pulvere Bacchum
Enecat, et nulls putris radice tenetur.
Temperies vitalis abest, et nulla sub illa
Cura Iovis terra est: Natura deside torpet
Orbis, et immotis annum non sentit arenis.
Hoc tam segne solum raras tamen exserit herbas,
Quas Nasamon gens dura legit, qui proxima ponto
Nudus rura tenet; quem mundi barbara damnis
Syrtis alit. Nam litoreis populator arenis
Imminet, et, nulla portus tangente carina,
Novit epes. Sic cum toto commercia mundo
Naufragiis Nasamones habent. Hac ire Catonem
Dura iubet virtus. Illic secura iuventus
Ventorum, nullasque timens tellure procellas,
Aequoreos est passa metus. Nam litore sicco,
Quam pelago, Syrtis violentius accipit Austrum.
Et terrae magis ille nocens. Non montibus illum
Adversis frangit Libye, scopulisque repulsum
Dissipat, et liquidas e turbine solvit in auras:
Nec ruit in silvas, annosaque robora torquens
Lassatur: patet omne solum, liberque meatu
Aeoliam rabiem totis exercet habenis:
Et non imbriferam contorto pulvere nubem
In flexum violentus agit: pars plurima terrae
Tollitur, et numquam resoluto vertice pendet.
Regna videt pauper Nasamon errantia vento,
Discussasque domos: volitantque a culmine raptae
Detecto Garamante casae. Non altius ignis
Rapta vehit: quantumque licet consurgere fumo,
Et violare diem, tantum tenet aera pulvis.
Tum quoque Romanum solito violentius agmen
Adgreditur, nullusque potest consistere miles,
Instabilis, raptis etiam, quas calcat, arenis.
Concuteret terras, orbemque a sede moveret,
Si solida Libye compage et pondere duro
Clauderet exesis Austrum scopulosa cavernis:
Sed quia mobilibus facilis turbatur arenis,
Nusquam luctando stabilis manet: imaque tellus
Stat, quia summa fugit. Galeas et scuta virorum
Pilaque contorsit violento spiritus actu,
Intentusque tulit magni per inania coeli.
Illud in externa forsan longeque remota
Prodigium tellure fuit: delapsaque coelo
Arma timent gentes, hominumque erepta lacertis
A superis demissa putant. Sic illa profecto
Sacrifico cecidere Numae, quae lecta iuventus
Patricia cervice movet: spoliaverat Auster
Aut Boreas populos ancilia nostra ferentes.
Sic orbem torquente Noto Romana iuventus
Procubuit, metuensque rapi, constrinxit amictus,
Inseruitque manus terrae: nec pondere solo,
Sed nisu iacuit, vix sic immobilis Austro:
Qui super ingentes cumulos involvit arenae,
Atque operit tellure viros. Vix tollere miles
Membra valet, multo congestu pulveris haereus.
Adligat et stantes adfusae magnus arenae
Agger, et immoti terra surgente tenentur.
Saxa tulit penitus discussis proruta muris.
Effuditque procul, miranda sorte malorum:
Qui nullas videre domos, videre ruinas.
Iamque iter omne latet: nec sunt discrimina terrae
Ulla, nisi aetheriae medio velut aequore flammae.
Sideribus novere vias: nec sidera nota
Ostendit Libycae finitor circulus orae,
Multaque devexo terrarum margine celat.
Utque calor solvit, quem torserat aera ventus
Incensusque dies, manant sudoribus artus,
Arent ora siti: conspecta est parva maligna
Unda procul vena: quam vix e pulvere miles
Corripiens, patulum galeae confudit in orbem,
Porrexitque duci. Squalebant pulvere fauces
Cunctorum: minimumque tenens dux ipse liquoris
Invidiosus erat. Mene, inquit, degener unum
Miles in hac turba vacuum virtute putasti?
Usque adeo mollis primisque caloribus impar
Sum visus? Quanto poena tu dignior ista es,
Qui, populo sitiente, bibas! Sic concitus ira
Excussit galeam, suffecitque omnibus unda.

[¶1] Now had they reached that temple which possess,
Sole in all Libya, th' untutored tribes
Of Garamantians. Here holds his seat
(So saith the story) a prophetic Jove,
Wielding no thunderbolts, nor like to ours;
The Libyan Hammon of the curved horn.
No wealth adorns his fane by Afric tribes
Bestowed, nor glittering hoard of Eastern gems.
Though rich Arabians, Ind and Ethiop
Know him alone as Jove, still he is poor
Holding his shrine by riches undefiled
Through time; and pure as gods of olden days
He spurns the wealth of Rome. That here sone god
Dwells, witnesses the only grove
That buds in Libya-for that which grows
Upon the arid dust which Leptis parts
From Berenice, knows no leaves; alone
Hammon uprears a wood; a fount the cause
Which with its waters binds the crumbling soil.
Yet shall the Sun when poised upon the height
Strike through the foliage: hardly can the tree
Protect its trunk, and to a little space
His rays draw in the circle of the shade.
Here have men found the spot where that high band
Solstitial divides in middle sky
The zodiac stars: not here oblique their course,
Nor Scorpion rises straighter than the Bull,
Nor to the Scales does Ram give back his hours,
Nor does Astraea bid the Fishes sink
More slowly down: but watery Capricorn
Is equal with the Crab, and with the Twins
The Archer; neither does the Lion rise
Above Aquarius. But the race that dwells
Beyond the fervour of the Libyan fires
Sees to the South that shadow which with us
Falls to the North: slow Cynosura sinks
For them below the deep; and, dry with us,
The Wagon plunges; far from either pole,
No star they know that does not seek the nain,
But all the constellations in their course
Whirl to their vision through the middle sky.
Before the doors the Eastern peoples stood
Seeking from horned Jove to know their fates:
Yet to the Roman chief they yielded place,
Whose comrades prayed him to entreat the gods
Famed through the Libyan world, and judge the voice
Renowned from distant ages. First of these
Was Labienus: 'Chance,' he said, 'to us
'The voice and counsel of this mighty god
'Has offered as we march; from such a guide
'To know the issues of the war, and learn
'To track the Syrtes. For to whom on earth
'If not to blameless Cato, shall the gods
Entrust their secret truths? Thou at the least
'Their faithful follower through life hast been.
'Lo! thou hast liberty to speak with Jove.
Ask impious Caesar's fates, and learn the laws
'That wait our country in the future days:
'Whether the people shall be free to use
'Their rights and customs, or the civil war
'For us is wasted. To thy sacred breast,
'Lover of virtue, take the voice divine;
'Demand what virtue is and guide thy steps
'By heaven's high counsellor.'
But Cato, full
Of godlike thoughts borne in his quiet breast,
This answer uttered, worthy of the shrines:
'What, Labienus, dost thou bid me ask?
'Whether in arms and freedom I should wish
' To perish, rather than endure a king?
' Is longest life worth aught? And doth its term
' Make difference? Can violence to the good
Do injury? Do Fortune's threats avail
Outweighed by virtue? Doth it not suffice
To aim at deeds of bravery? Can fame
Grow by achievement? Nay! No Hammon's voice
Shall teach us this more surely than we know.
Bound are we to the gods; no voice we need;
They live in all our acts, although the shrine
Be silent: at our birth and once for all
What may be known the author of our being
Revealed; nor chose these thirsty sands to chaunt
'To few his truth, whelmed in the dusty waste.
God has his dwelling in all things that be,
In earth and air and sea and starry vault,
In virtuous deeds; in all that thou canst see,
In all thy thoughts contained. Why further, then,
Seek we our deities? Let those who doubt
And halting, tremble for their coming fates,
Go ask the oracles. No mystic words,
Make sure my heart, but surely coming Death.
" Coward alike and brave, we all must die.
Thus hath Jove spoken: seek to know no more.'
Thus Cato spoke, and faithful to his creed
He parted from the temple of the god
And left the oracle of Hammon dumb.
Bearing his javelin, as one of them
He strode afoot before the panting troops:
No bending neck, no litter bore his form.
He bade them not, but showed them how to toil.
Spare in his sleep, the last to sip the spring,
When at some rivulet to quench their thirst
The eager ranks pressed onward, he alone
Until the humblest follower might drink
Stood motionless. If for the truly good
Is fame, and virtue by the deed itself,
Not by successful issue, should be judged,
Yield, famous ancestors! Fortune, not worth
Gained you your glory. But such name as his
Who ever merited by successful war
Or slaughtered peoples? Rather would I lead
With him his triumphs through the pathless sands
And Libya's bounds, than in Pompeius' car
Three times ascend the Capitol, or break
The proud Jugurtha. Rome! in him behold
His country's father, worthiest of thy vows;
A name by which men shall not blush to swear,
Whom, shouldst thou break the fetters from thy neck,
Thou mayst in distant days decree divine.
Now was the heat more dense, and through that clime
Than which no further on the Southern side
The gods permit, they trod; and scarcer still
The water, till in middle sands they found
One copious fountain; but its brimming wave
Was thronged with serpents which it hardly held,
And thirsty asps were pressing on the marge.
But when the chieftain saw that speedy fate
Was on the host, if they should leave the well
Untasted, ' Vain,' he cried, your fear of death.
' Drink, nor delay: 'tis from the threatening tooth
" Men draw their deaths, and fatal from the fang
' Issues the juice if mingled with the blood;
' The cup is harmless.' Then he sipped the fount,
Still doubting, and in all the Libyan waste
There only was he first to touch the stream.

> Latin: Ventum erat ad templum, Libycis quod gentibus unum
Inculti Garamantes habent. Stat sortifer istic
Iupiter, ut memorant, sed non aut fulmina vibrans,
Aut similis nostro, sed tortis cornibus Ammon.
Non illic Libycae posuerunt ditia gentes
Templa, nec Eois splendent donaria gemmis.
Quamvis Aethiopum populis Arabumque beatis
Gentibus atque Indis unus sit Iupiter Ammon,
Pauper adhuc deus est, nullis violata per aevum
Divitiis delubra tenens: morumque priorum
Numen, Romano templum defendit ab auro.
Esse locis superos, testatur silva, per omnem
Sola virens Libyen. Nam quidquid pulvere sicco
Separat ardentem tepida Berenicida Lepti,
Ignorat frondes: solus nemus extulit Ammon.
Silvaram fons caussa loco, qui putria terrae
Adligat, et domitas unda connectit arenas.
Sic quoque nil obstat Phoebo, cum cardine summo
Stat librata dies: truncum vix protegit arbor:
Tam brevis in medium radiis compellitur umbra.
Deprensum est, hunc esse locum, qua circulum alti
Solstitii medium signorum percutit orbem.
Non obliqua meant, nec Tauro Scorpius exit
Rectior, aut Aries donat sua tempora Librae,
Aut Astraea iubet lentos descendere Pisces.
Par Geminis Chiron, et idem quod Carcinos ardens
Humidus Aegoceros: nec plus Leo tollitur Urna.
At tibi, quaecumque es Libyco gens igne diremta,
In Noton umbra cadit, quae nobis exit in Arcton:
Et segnis Cynosura subit: tu sicca profundo
Mergi plaustra putas, nullumque in vertice summo
Sidus habes immune mari; procul axis uterque est,
Et fuga signorum medio rapit omnia caelo.
Stabant ante fores populi, quos miserat Eos,
Cornigerique Iovis monitu nova fata petebant:
Sed Latio cessere duci: comitesque Catonem
Orant, exploret Libycum memorata per orbem
Numina, de fama tam longi iudicet aevi.
Maximus hortator scrutandi voce deorum
Eventus Labienus erat. Sors obtulit, inquit,
Et Fortuna viae tam magni numinis ora
Consiliumque dei: tanto duce possumus uti
Per Syrtes, bellique datos cognoscere casus.
Nam cui crediderim superos arcana daturos
Dicturosque magis, quam sancto vera Catoni?
Certe vita tibi semper directa supernas
Ad leges, sequerisque deum. Datur, ecce, loquendi
Cum Iove libertas: inquire in fata nefandi
Caesaris, et patriae venturos excute mores:
Iure suo populis uti legumque licebit,
An bellum civile perit. Tua pectora sacra
Voce reple: durae semper virtutis amator,
Quaere quid est virtus, et posce exemplar honesti.
Ille, deo plenus, tacita quem mente gerebat,
Effudit dignas adytis e pectore voces:
Quid quaeri, Labiene, iubes? an liber in armis
Occubuisse velim potius, quam regna videre?
An sit vita nihil, et longa? an differat aetas?
An noceat vis ulla bono? Fortunaque perdat
Opposita virtute minas? laudandaque velle
Sit satis, et numquam successu crescat honestum?
Scimus, et haec nobis non altius inseret Ammon.
Haeremus cuncti superis, temploque tacente,
Nil agimus nisi sponte dei: nec vocibus ullis
Numen eget: dixitque semel nascentibus auctor
Quidquid scire licet: steriles nec legit arenas,
Ut caneret paucis, mersitque hoc pulvere verum:
Estque dei sedes, ubi terra, et pontus, et aer,
Et coelum, et virtus. Superos quid quaerimus ultra?
Iuppiter est, quodcumque vides, quodcumque moveris.
Sortilegis egeant dubii, semperque futuris
Casibus ancipites: me non oracula certum,
Sed mors certa facit. Pavido fortique cadendum est:
Hoc satis est dixisse Iovem. Sic ille profatur:
Servataque fide templi, discedit ab aris,
Non exploratum populis Ammona relinquens.
Ipse manu sua pila gerens, praecedit anheli
Militis ora pedes: monstrat tolerare labores,
Non iubet: et nulla vehitur cervice supinus,
Carpentoque sedens. Somni parcissimus ipse est,
Ultimus haustor aquae. Cum tandem fonte reperto
Indiga conatur laticis potare iuventus,
Stat, dum lixa bibat. Si veris magna paratur
Fama bonis, et si successu nuda remoto
Inspicitur virtus, quidquid laudamus in ullo
Maiorum, Fortuna fuit. Quis Marte secundo,
Quis tantum meruit populorum sanguine nomen?
Hunc ego per Syrtes Libyaeque extrema triumphum
Ducere maluerim, quam ter Capitolia curru
Scandere Pompeii, quam frangere colla Iugurthae.
Ecce parens verus patriae, dignissimus aris,
Roma, tuis; per quem numquam iurare pudebit,
Et quem, si steteris umquam cervice soluta,
Tunc olim factura deum. Iam spissior ignis,
Et plaga, quam nullam superi mortalibus ultra
A medio fecere die, calcatur, et unda
Rarior: inventus mediis fons unus arenis
Largus aquae, sed quem serpentum turba tenebat
Vix capiente loco. Stabant in margine siccae
Aspides, in mediis sitiebant Dipsades undi.
Ductor, ut adspexit perituros fonte relicto,
Adloquitur: Vana specie conterrite leti,
Ne dubita, miles, tutos haurire liquores:
Noxia serpentum est admito sanguine pestis:
Morsu virus habent, et fatum dente minantur:
Pocula morte carent. Dixit, dubiumque venenum
Hausit: et in tota Libyae fons unus arena
Ille fuit, de quo primus sibi posceret undam.

[¶2] Why fertile thus in death the pestilent air
Of Libya, what poison in her soil
Her several nature mixed, my care to know
Has not availed: but from the days of old
A fabled story has deceived the world.
Far on her limits, where the burning shore
Admits the ocean fervid from the sun
Plunged in its waters, lay Medusa's fields
Untilled; nor forests shaded, nor the plough
Furrowed the soil, which by its mistress' gaze
Was hardened into stone: Phorcus, her sire.
Malevolent nature from her body first
Drew forth these noisome pests; first from her jaws
Issued the sibilant rattle of serpent tongues;
Clustered around her head the poisonous brood
Like to a woman's hair, wreathed on her neck
Which gloried in their touch; their glittering heads
Advanced towards her; and her tresses kempt
Dripped down with viper's venom. This alone
Thou hast, accursed one, which men can see
Unharmed; for who upon that gaping mouth
Looked and could dread? Whom suffered she to die
Who saw her face? He rushed upon his fate
And ere he feared was stricken to the death.
Perished the limbs while living, and the soul
Grew stiff and stark ere yet it fled the frame.
Men have been frenzied by the Furies' locks,
Not killed; and Cerberus at Orpheus' song
Ceased from his hissing, and Alcides saw
The Hydra ere he slew. This monster born
Brought horror with her birth upon her sire
Phorcus, in second order God of Waves,
And upon Ceto and the Gorgon brood,
Her sisters. She could treat the sea and sky
With deadly calm unknown, and from the world
Bid cease the soil. Borne down by instant weight
Fowls fell from air, and beasts were fixed in stone.
Whole Ethiop tribes who tilled the neighbouring lands
Rigid in marble stood. The Gorgon sight
No creature bore and even her serpents turned
Back from her visage. Atlas in his place
Beside the Western columns, by her look
Was turned to granite; and when Phlegra's brood
Gigantic, serpent-tailed, were feared of heaven,
She made them mountains, and the Gorgon head
Borne on Athena's bosom closed the war.
Here born of Danae and the golden shower,
Floating on wings Parrhasian, by the god
Arcadian given, author of the lyre
And wrestling art, came Perseus, swooping down
From heaven. Cyllenian Harpe did he bear
Still crimson from another monster slain,
The guardian of the heifer loved by Jove.
This to her winged brother Pallas lent
Price of the monster's head: by her command
He sought the limits of the Libyan land,
Poised o'er Medusa's realm, with head averse
Towards the rising sun: a burnished shield
Of yellow brass upon his other arm,
Her gift, her bore: in which she bade him see
The fatal face unscathed. Nor yet in sleep
Lay all the monster, for such total rest
To her were death-so fated: serpent locks
In vigilant watch, some reaching forth defend
Her head, while others lay upon her face
And slumbering eyes. Then hero Perseus shook
Though turned averse; trembled his dexter hand:
But Pallas held, and the descending blade
Shore the broad neck whence sprang the viper brood.
What visage bore the Gorgon as the steel
Thus reft her life! what poison from her throat
Breathed! from her eyes what venom of death distilled!
The goddess dared not look, and Perseus' face
Had frozen, averse, had not Athena veiled
With coils of writhing snakes the features dead.
Then with the Gorgon head the hero flew
Uplifted on his wings and sought the sky.
Shorter had been his voyage through the midst
Of Europe's cities; but Athena bade
To spare her peoples and their fruitful lands;
For who when such an airy courser passed
Had not looked up to heaven? Western winds
Now sped his pinions, and he took his course
O'er Libya's regions, from the stars and suns
Veiled by no culture. Phoebus' nearer track
There burns the soil, and loftiest on the sky
There falls the night, to shade the wandering moon,
If e'er forgetful of her course oblique,
Straight through the stars, nor bending to the North
Nor to the South, she hastens. Yet that earth,
In nothing fertile, void of fruitful yield,
Drank in the poison of Medusa's blood,
Dripping in dreadful dews upon the soil,
And in the crumbling sands by heat matured.
Where first within the dust the venom germ
Took life, an asp was reared of turgid neck
And sleep compelling: thick the poison drop
That was his making, in no fang of snake
More closely pressed. Greedy of warmth it seeks
No frozen world itself, nor haunts the sands
Beyond the Nile; yet has our thirst of gain
No shame nor limit, and this Libyan death,
This fatal pest we purchase for our own.
Haemorrhois huge spreads out his scaly coils,
Who suffers not his hapless victims' blood
To stay within their veins. Chersydros sprang
To life, to dwell within the doubtful marsh
Where land nor sea prevails. A cloud of spray
Marked fell Chelyder's track: and Cenchris rose
Straight gliding to his prey, his belly tinged
With various spots unnumbered, more than those
Which paint the Theban marble; horned snakes
With spines contorted: like to torrid sand
Ammodytes, of hue invisible:
Sole of all serpents Scytale to shed
In vernal frosts his slough; and thirsty Dipsas;
Dread Amphisbaena with his double head
Tapering; and Natrix who in bubbling fount
Fuses his venom. Greedy Prester swells
His foaming jaws; Pareas, head erect
Furrows with tail alone his sandy path;
Swift Jaculus there, and Seps whose poisonous juice
Makes liquid bone and flesh: and there upreared
His regal head, and frighted from his track
With sibilant terror all the subject swarm,
Baneful ere darts his poison, Basilisk
In sands deserted king. Ye serpents too
Who in all other regions harmless glide
Adored as gods, and bright with golden scales,
Are deadly here: for Afric air inhaled
Bestows malignant gift, as poised on wings
Whole herds of kine ye follow, and with coils
Encircling close, crush in the mighty bull.
Nor does the elephant in his giant bulk,
Nor aught, find safety; and ye need no fang
Nor poison, to compel the fatal end.

> Latin: Cur Libycus tantis exundet pestibus aer
Fertilis in mortes, aut quid secreta nocenti
Miscuerit natura solo, non cura laborque
Noster scire valet: nisi quod vulgata per orbem
Fabula pro vera decepit saecula caussa.
Finibus extremis Libyes, ubi fervida tellus
Accipit Oceanum demisso sole calentem,
Squalebant late Phorcynidos arva Medusae,
Non nemorum protecta coma, non mollia sulco,
Sed dominas vultu conspectis aspera saxis,
Hoc primum natura nocens in corpore saevas
Eduxit pestes: illis e faucibus angues
Stridula fuderunt vibratis sibila linguis,
Femineae qui more comae per terga soluti,
Ipsa flagellabant gaudentis colla Medusae.
Surgunt adverse subrectae fronte colubrae,
Vipereumque fluit depexo crine venenum.
Hoc habet infelix, cunctis impune, Medusa,
Quod spectare licet Nam rictus oraque monstri
Quis timuit? quem, qui recto se lumine vidit,
Passa Medusa mori est. Rapuit dubitantia fata,
Praevenitque metus: anima periere retenta
Membra, nec emissae riguere sub ossibus umbrae.
Eumenidum crines solos movere furores:
Cerberus Orpheo lenivit sibila cantu:
Amphitryoniades vidit, cum vinceret, Hydram;
Hoc monstrum timuit genitor, numenque secundum
Phorcus aquis, Cetoque parens, ipsaeque sorores
Gorgones: hoc potuit coelo pelagoque minari
Torporem insolitum, mundoque abducere terram.
E coelo volucres subito cum pondere lapsae:
In scopulis haesere ferae: vicina colentes
Aethiopum totae riguerunt marmore gentes.
Nullum animal visus patiens, ipsique retrorsum
Effusi faciem vitabant Gorgonis angues.
Illa sub Hesperiis stantem Titana columnis
In cautes Atlanta dedit: coeloque timente
Olim Phlegraeo stantes serpente gigantes,
Erexit montes, bellumque immane deorum
Pallados in medio confecit pectore Gorgon.
Quo postquam partu Danaes et divite nimbo
Ortum Parrhasiae vexerunt Persea pennae
Arcados auctoris citharae liquidaeque palaestrae,
Et subitus praepes Cyllenida sustulit harpen,
Harpen alterius monstri iam caede rubentem,
[A Iove dilectae fuso custode iuvencae:]
Auxilium volucri Pallas tulit innuba fratri,
Pacta caput monstri: terraeque in fine Libyssae
Persea Phoebeos converti iussit ad ortus,
Gorgonis averso sulcantem regna volatu:
Et clypeum laevae fulvo dedit aere nitentem,
In quo saxificam iussit spectare Medusam.
Quam sopor, aeternam tracturus morte quietem,
Obruit haud totam. Vigilat pars magna comarum,
Defenduntque caput praetenti crinibus hydri:
Pars iacet in medios vultus oculique tenebras.
Ipsa regit trepidum Pallas, dextraque tremente
Perseos aversi Cyllenida dirigit harpen,
Lata colubriferi rumpens confinia colli.
Quos habuit vultus hamati vulnere ferri
Caesa caput Gorgon! quanto spirasse veneno
Ora rear! quantumque oculos effundere mortis!
Nec Pallas spectare potest: vultusque gelassent
Perseos aversi, si non Tritonia densos
Sparsisset crines, texissetque ora colubri.
Aliger in coelum sic rapta Gorgone fugit.
Ille quidem pensabat iter, propiusque secabat
Aethera, si medias Europae scinderet urbes;
Pallas frugiferas iussit non laedere terras,
Et parci populis. Quis enim non praepete tanto
Aethera respiceret? Zephyro convertitur ales,
Itque super Libyen, quae, nullo consita cultu,
Sideribus Phoeboque vacat: premit orbita solis,
Exuritque solum; nec terra celsior ulla
Nox cadit in coelum, lunaeque meatibus obstat,
Si flexus oblita vagi per recta cucurrit
Signa, nec in Borean aut in Noton effugit umbram.
Illa tamen sterilis tellus, fecundaque nulli
Arva bono, virus stillantis tabe Medusae
Concipiunt, dirosque fero de sanguine rores,
Quos calor adiuvit, putrique incoxit arenae.
Hic, quae prima caput movit de pulvere tabes,
Aspida somniferam tumida cervice levavit.
Plenior huic sanguis et crassi gutta veneni
Decidit: in nulla plus est serpente coactum.
Ipsa caloris egens gelidum non transit in orbem
Sponte sua, Niloque tenus metitur arenas.
Sed quis erit nobis lucri pudor? inde petuntur
Huc Libycae mortes, et fecimus Aspida mercem.
At non stare suum miseris passura cruorem,
Squamiferos ingens Haemorrhois explicat orbes:
Natus et, ambiguae coleret qui Syrtidos arva,
Chersydros, tractique via fumante Chelydri:
Et semper recto lapsurus limite Cenchris:
Pluribus ille notis variatam pingitur alvum,
Quam parvis tinctus maculis Thebanus Ophites.
Concolor exustis atque indiscretus arenis
Ammodytes: spinaque vagi torquente Cerastae:
Et Scytale, sparsis etiam nunc sola pruinis
Exuvias positura suas: et torrida Dipsas:
Et gravis in geminum vergens caput Amphisbaena:
Et Natrix violator aquae, Iaculique volucres,
Et contentus iter cauda sulcare Pareas:
Oraque distendens avidus spumantia Prester:
Ossaque dissolvens cum corpore tabificus Seps.
Sibilaque effundens cunctas terrentia pestes,
Ante venena nocens, late sibi submovet omne
Vulgus, et in vacua regnat Basiliscus arena.
Vos quoque, qui cunctis innoxia numina terris
Serpitis, aurato nitidi fulgore dracones,
Pestiferos ardens facit Africa. Ducitis altum
Aera cum pennis, armentaque tota secuti
Rumpitis ingentes amplexi verbere tauros:
Nec tutus spatio est elephas: datis omnia leto:
Nec vobis opus est ad noxia fata veneno.

[¶3] Amid these pests undaunted Cato urged
His desert journey on. His hardy troops
Beneath his eyes, pricked by a scanty wound,
In strangest forms of death unnumbered fall.
Tyrrhenian Aulus, bearer of a flag,
Trod on a Dipsas; quick with head reversed
The serpent struck; no mark betrayed the tooth:
The aspect of the wound nor threatened death,
Nor any evil; but the poison germ
In silence working as consuming fire
Absorbed the moisture of his inward frame,
Draining the natural juices that were spread
Around his vitals; in his arid jaws
Set flame upon his tongue: his wearied limbs
No sweat bedewed; dried up, the fount of tears
Fled from his eyelids. Tortured by the fire
Nor Cato's sternness, nor of his sacred charge
The honour could withhold him; but he dared
To dash his standard down, and through the plains
Raging, to seek for water that might slake
The fatal venom thirsting at his heart.
Plunge him in Tanais, in Rhone and Po,
Pour on his burning tongue the flood of Nile,
Yet were the fire unquenched. So fell the fang
Of Dipsas in the torrid Libyan lands;
In other climes less fatal. Next he seeks
Amid the sands, all barren to the depths,
For moisture: then returning to the shoals
Laps them with greed-in vain-the briny draught
Scarce quenched the thirst it made. Nor knowing yet
The poison in his frame, he steels himself
To rip his swollen veins and drink the gore.
Cato bids lift the standard, lest his troops
May find in thirst a pardon for the deed.
But on Sabellus' yet more piteous death
Their eyes were fastened. Clinging to his skin
A Seps with curving tooth, of little size,
He seized and tore away, and to the sands
Pierced with his javelin. Small the serpent's bulk;
None deals a death more horrible in form.
For swift the flesh dissolving round the wound
Bared the pale bone; swam all his limbs in blood;
Wasted the tissue of his calves and knees:
And all the muscles of his thighs were thawed
In black distilment, and the membrane sheath
Parted, that bound his vitals, which abroad
Flowed upon earth: yet seemed it not that all
His frame was loosed, for by the venomous drop
Were all the bands that held his muscles drawn
Down to a juice; the framework of his chest
Was bare, its cavity, and all the parts
Hid by the organs of life, that make the man.
So by unholy death there stood revealed
His inmost nature. Head and stalwart arms,
And neck and shoulders, from their solid mass
Melt in corruption. Not more swiftly flows
Wax at the sun's command, nor snow compelled
By southern breezes. Yet not all is said:
For so to noxious humours fire consumes
Our fleshly frame; but on the funeral pyre
What bones have perished? These dissolve no less
Than did the mouldered tissues, nor of death
Thus swift is left a trace. Of Afric pests
Thou bear'st the palm for hurtfulness: the life
They snatch away, thou only with the life
The clay that held it.
Lo! a different fate,
Not this by melting! for a Prester's fang
Nasidius struck, who erst in Marsian fields
Guided the plough. Upon his face there burns
A redness as of flame: swollen the skin,
His features hidden, swollen all his limbs
Till more than human: and his definite frame
One tumour huge conceals. A ghastly gore
Is puffed from inwards as the virulent juice
Courses through all his body; which, thus grown,
His corselet holds not. Not in caldron so
Boils up to mountainous height the steaming wave;
Nor in such bellying curves does canvas bend
To Eastern tempests. Now the ponderous bulk
Rejects the limbs, and as a shapeless trunk
Burdens the earth: and there, to beasts and birds
A fatal feast, his comrades leave the corse;
Nor dare to place, yet swelling, in the tomb.
But for their eyes the Libyan pests prepared
More dreadful sights. On Tullus great in heart,
And bound to Cato with admiring soul,
A fierce Haemorrhois fixed. From every limb,
(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 drew his sword
And severed arm and shoulder at a blow:
Then gazed secure upon his severed hand
Which perished as he looked. So hadst thou died,
And such had been thy fate!
Whoe'er had thought
A scorpion had strength o'er death and fate?
Yet with his threatening coils and barb erect
He won the glory of Orion slain;
So bear the stars their witness. And who would fear
Thy haunts, Salpuga? Yet the Stygian Maids
Have given thee power to snap the fatal threads.

> Latin: Has inter pestes duro Cato milite siccum
Emetitur iter, tot tristia fata suorum
Insolitasque videns parvo cum vulnere mortes.
Signiferum iuvenem Tyrrheni sanguinis Aulum
Torta caput retro Dipsas calcata momordit.
Frons dolor aut sensus dentis fuit: ipsaque leti
Frons caret invidia, nec quidquam plaga minatur.
Ecce subit virus tacitum, carpitque medullas
Ignis edax, calidaque incendit viscera tabe.
Ebibit humorem circum vitalia fusum
Pestis, et in sicco linguam torrere palato
Coepit; defessos iret qui sudor in artus
Non fuit, atque oculos lacrimarum vena refugit.
Non decus imperii, non moesti iura Catonis
Ardentem tenuere virum, quin spargere signa
Auderet, totisque furens exquireret agris,
Quas poscebat aquas sitiens in corde venenum.
Ille vel in Tanain missus Rhodanumque Padumque
Arderet, Nilumque bibens per rura vagantem.
Accessit morti Libye, fatisque minorem
Famam Dipsas habet, terris adiuta perustis.
Scrutatur venas penitus squalentis arenae:
Nunc redit ad Syrtes, et fluctus accipit ore
Aequoreusque placet, sed non sibi sufficit, humor.
Nec sentit fatique genus mortemque veneni,
Sed putat esse sitim, ferroque aperite tumentes
Sustinuit venas, atque os implere cruore.
Iussit signa rapi propere Cato: discere nulli
Permissum est, hoc posse sitim. Sed tristior illa
Mors erat ante oculos: miserique in crure Sabelli
Seps stetit exiguus, quem flexo dente tenacem
Avulsitque manu, piloque adfixit arenis:
Parva modo serpens; sed qua non ulla cruentae
Tantum mortis habet. Nam plagae proxima circum
Fugit rapta cutis, pallentiaque ossa retexit.
Iamque sinu laxo nudum est sine corpore vulnus;
Membra natant sanie: surae fluxere: sine ullo
Tegmine poples erat: femorum quoque musculus omni
Liquitur, et nigra distillant inguina tabe.
Dissiluit stringens uterum membrana, fluuntque
Viscera: nec, quantum toto de corpore debet,
Effluit in terras: saevum sed membra venenum
Decoquit; in minimum mox contrahit omnia virus
Vincula nervorum, et laterum contexta, cavumque
Pectus, et abstrusum fibris vitalibus, omne
Quidquid homo est, aperit pestis. Natura profana
Morte patet: manant humeri fortesque lacerti:
Colla caputque fluunt. Calido non ocius Austro
Nix resoluta cadit, nec solem cera sequetur.
Parva loquor, corpus sanie stillasse perustum:
Hoc et flamma potet. Sed quis rogus abstulit ossa
Haec quoque discedunt, putresque secuta medullas
Nulla manere sinunt rapidi vestigia fati.
Cyniphias inter pestes tibi palma nocendi est;
Eripiunt omnes animam, tu sola cadaver.
Ecce subit fades leto diversa fluenti
Nasidium Marsi cultorem torridus agri
Percussit Prester. Illi rubor igneus ora
Succendit, tenditque cutem, pereunte figura,
Miscens cuncta tumor, toto iam corpore maior:
Humanumque egressa modum, super omnia membra
Efflatur sanies: late pollente veneno,
Ipse latet penitus congesto corpore mersus:
Nec lorica tenet distenti corporis auctum.
Spumeus accenso non sic exundat aheno
Undarum cumulis: nec tantos carbasa Coro
Curvavere sinus. Tumidos iam non capit artus
Informis globus, et confuso pondere truncus.
Intactum, volucrum rostris epulasque daturum
Haud impune feris, non ausi tradere busto,
Nondum stante modo, crescens fugere cadaver.
Sed maiora parant Libycae spectacula pestes.
Impressit dentes Haemorrhois aspera Tullo
Magnanimo iuveni, miratorique Catonis.
Utque solet pariter totis se effundere signis
Corycii pressura croci: sic omnia membra
Emisere simul rutilum pro sanguine virus.
Sanguis erant lacrimae: quaecumque foramina novit
Humor, ab his largus manat cruor: ore redundant,
Et patulae nares: sudor rubet: omnia plenis
Membra fluunt venis: totum est pro vulnere corpus,
At tibi, Leve miser, fixus praecordia pressit
Nilaca serpente cruor: nulloque dolore
Testatus morsus, subita caligine mortem
Accipis, et Stygias somno descendis ad umbras.
Non tam veloci corrumpunt pocula leto,
Stipite quae diro [virgas mentita Sabinas]
[Toxica fatilegi] carpunt matura Sabaei.
Ecce procul saevus sterilis se robore trunci
Torsit et immisit (iaculum vocat Africa) serpens:
Perque caput Paulli transactaque tempora fugit.
Nil ibi virus agit: rapuit cum vulnere fatum.
Deprensum est, quae funda rotat, quam lenta volarent.
Quam segnis Scythicae strideret arundinis aer.
Quid prodest miseri Basiliscus cuspide Murri
Transactuas? Velox currit per tela venenum,
Invaditque manum: quam protinus ille retecto
Ense ferit, totoque simul demittit ab armo;
Exemplarque sui spectans miserabile leti
Stat tutus, pereunte manu. Quis fata putaret
Scorpion aut vires maturae mortis habere.
Ille minax nodis, et recto verbere saevus,
Teste tulit coelo victi decus Orionis.
Quis calcare tuas metuat, Solpuga, latebras?
Et tibi dant Stygiae ius in sua fila sorores.