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As yet unopened. 'Tis the love of gold

Alone that fears not death; no hand is raised
For perished laws or violated rights:

But for this dross, the vilest cause of all,
Men fight and die. Thus did the Tribune bar

The victor's road to rapine, and with voice
Clear ringing spake: "Save o'er Metellus dead

This temple opens not; my sacred blood
Shall flow, thou robber, ere the gold be thine.

And surely shall the Tribune's power defied
Find an avenging god; this Crassus knew (7),

Who, followed by our curses, sought the war
And met disaster on the Parthian plains.

Draw then thy sword, nor fear the crowd that gapes
To view thy crimes: the citizens are gone.

Not from our treasury reward for guilt
Thy hosts shall ravish: other towns are left,

And other nations; wage the war on them --
Drain not Rome's peace for spoil." The victor then,

Incensed to ire: "Vain is thy hope to fall
In noble death, as guardian of the right;

With all thine honours, thou of Caesar's rage
Art little worthy: never shall thy blood

Defile his hand. Time lowest things with high
Confounds not yet so much that, if thy voice

Could save the laws, it were not better far
They fell by Caesar." Such his lofty words.

But as the Tribune yielded not, his rage
Rose yet the more, and at his soldiers' swords

One look he cast, forgetting for the time
What robe he wore; but soon Metellus heard

These words from Cotta: "When men bow to power
Freedom of speech is only Freedom's bane (8),

Whose shade at least survives, if with free will
Thou dost whate'er is bidden thee. For us

Some pardon may be found: a host of ills
Compelled submission, and the shame is less

That to have done which could not be refused.
Yield, then, this wealth, the seeds of direful war.

A nation's anger is by losses stirred,
When laws protect it; but the hungry slave

Brings danger to his master, not himself."
At this Metellus yielded from the path;

And as the gates rolled backward, echoed loud
The rock Tarpeian, and the temple's depths

Gave up the treasure which for centuries
No hand had touched: all that the Punic foe

And Perses and Philippus conquered gave,
And all the gold which Pyrrhus panic-struck

Left when he fled: that gold (9), the price of Rome,
Which yet Fabricius sold not, and the hoard

Laid up by saving sires; the tribute sent
By Asia's richest nations; and the wealth

Which conquering Metellus brought from Crete,
And Cato (10) bore from distant Cyprus home;

And last, the riches torn from captive kings
And borne before Pompeius when he came

In frequenttriumph. Thus was robbed the shrine,
And Caesar first brought poverty to Rome.

Meanwhile all nations of the earth were moved
To share in Magnus' fortunes and the war,

And in his fated ruin. Graecia sent,
Nearest of all, her succours to the host.

From Cirrha and Parnassus' double peak
And from Amphissa, Phocis sent her youth:

Boeotian leaders muster in the meads
By Dirce laved, and where Cephisus rolls

Gifted with fateful power his stream along:
And where Alpheus, who beyond the sea (11)

In fount Sicilian seeks the day again.
Pisa deserted stands, and Oeta, loved

By Hercules of old; Dodona's oaks
Are left to silence by the sacred train,

And all Epirus rushes to the war.
And proud Athena, mistress of the seas,

Sends three poor ships (alas! her all) to prove
Her ancient victory o'er the Persian King.

Next seek the battle Creta's hundred tribes
Beloved of Jove and rivalling the east

In skill to wing the arrow from the bow.
The walls of Dardan Oricum, the woods

Where Athamanians wander, and the banks
Of swift Absyrtus foaming to the main

Are left forsaken. Enchelaean tribes
Whose king was Cadmus, and whose name records

His transformation (12), join the host; and those
Who till Penean fields and turn the share

Above Iolcos in Thessalian lands."
There first men steeled their hearts to dare the waves (13)

And 'gainst the rage of ocean and the storm
To match their strength, when the rude Argo sailed

Upon that distant quest, and spurned the shore,
Joining remotest nations in her flight,

And gave the fates another form of death.
Left too was Pholoe; pretended home

Where dwelt the fabled race of double form (14);
Arcadian Maenalus; the Thracian mount

Named Haemus; Strymon whence, as autumn falls,
Winged squadrons seek the banks of warmer Nile;

And all the isles the mouths of Ister bathe
Mixed with the tidal wave; the land through which

The cooling eddies of Caicus flow
Idalian; and Arisbe bare of glebe.

The hinds of Pitane, and those who till
Celaenae's fields which mourned of yore the gift

Of Pallas (15), and the vengeance of the god,
All draw the sword; and those from Marsyas' flood

First swift, then doubling backwards with the stream
Of sinuous Meander: and from where

Pactolus leaves his golden source and leaps
From Earth permitting; and with rival wealth

Rich Hermus parts the meads. Nor stayed the bands
Of Troy, but (doomed as in old time) they joined

Pompeius' fated camp: nor held them back
The fabled past, nor Caesar's claimed descent

From their Iulus. Syrian peoples came
From palmy Idumea and the walls

Of Ninus great of yore; from windy plains
Of far Damascus and from Gaza's hold,

From Sidon's courts enriched with purple dye,
And Tyre oft trembling with the shaken earth.

All these led on by Cynosura's light (16)
Furrow their certain path to reach the war.

Phoenicians first (if story be believed)
Dared to record in characters; for yet

Papyrus was not fashioned, and the priests
Of Memphis, carving symbols upon walls

Of mystic sense (in shape of beast or fowl)
Preserved the secrets of their magic art.

Next Persean Tarsus and high Taurus' groves
Are left deserted, and Corycium's cave;

And all Cilicia's ports, pirate no more,
Resound with preparation. Nor the East

Refused the call, where furthest Ganges dares,
Alone of rivers, to discharge his stream

Against the sun opposing; on this shore (17)
The Macedonian conqueror stayed his foot

And found the world his victor; here too rolls
Indus his torrent with Hydaspes joined

Yet hardly feels it; here from luscious reed
Men draw sweet liquor; here they dye their locks

With tints of saffron, and with coloured gems
Bind down their flowing garments; here are they,

Who satiate of life and proud to die,
Ascend the blazing pyre, and conquering fate,

Scorn to live longer; but triumphant give
The remnant of their days in flame to heaven. (18)

Nor fails to join the host a hardy band
Of Cappadocians, tilling now the soil,

Once pirates of the main: nor those who dwell
Where steep Niphates hurls the avalanche,

And where on Median Coatra's sides
The giant forest rises to the sky.

And you, Arabians, from your distant home
Came to a world unknown, and wondering saw

The shadows fall no longer to the left. (19)
Then fired with ardour for the Roman war

Oretas came, and far Carmania's chiefs,
Whose clime lies southward, yet men thence descry

Low down the Pole star, and Bootes runs
Hasting to set, part seen, his nightly course;

And Ethiopians from that southern land
Which lies without the circuit of the stars,

Did not the Bull with curving hoof advanced
O'erstep the limit. From that mountain zone

They come, where rising from a common fount
Euphrates flows and Tigris, and did earth

Permit, were joined with either name; but now
While like th' Egyptian flood Euphrates spreads

His fertilising water, Tigris first
Drawn down by earth in covered depths is plunged

And holds a secret course; then born again
Flows on unhindered to the Persian sea.

But warlike Parthia wavered 'twixt the chiefs,
Content to have made them two (20); while Scythia's hordes

Dipped fresh their darts in poison, whom the stream
Of Bactros bounds and vast Hyrcanian woods.

Hence springs that rugged nation swift and fierce,
Descended from the Twins' great charioteer. (21)

Nor failed Sarmatia, nor the tribes that dwell
By richest Phasis, and on Halys' banks,

Which sealed the doom of Croesus' king; nor where
From far Rhipaean ranges Tanais flows,

On either hand a quarter of the world,
Asia and Europe, and in winding course

Carves out a continent; nor where the strait
In boiling surge pours to the Pontic deep

Maeotis' waters, rivalling the pride
Of those Herculean pillar-gates that guard

The entrance to an ocean. Thence with hair
In golden fillets, Arimaspians came,

And fierce Massagetae, who quaff the blood
Of the brave steed on which they fight and flee.

Not when great Cyrus on Memnonian realms
His warriors poured; nor when, their weapons piled, (22)

The Persian told the number of his host;
Nor when th' avenger (23) of a brother's shame

Loaded the billows with his mighty fleet,
Beneath one chief so many kings made war;

Nor e'er met nations varied thus in garb
And thus in language. To Pompeius' death



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