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M. Annaeus Lucanus, Pharsalia (ed. Sir Edward Ridley), book 1, line 291 (search)
hted through the world
' And ghastly famine made to serve his ends?
' Who hath forgotten how Pompeius' bands
' Seized on the forum? the grim sheen of swords
' When outraged justice trembled, and the spears
' Hemmed in the judgment-seat where Milo Milo was brought to trial for the murder of Clodius in B.C. 52, about three years before this. Pompeius, then sole Consul, had surrounded the tribunal with soldiers, who at one time charged the crowd. Milo was sent into exile at Massilia. stood?
' AnMilo was sent into exile at Massilia. stood?
' And now when worn and old and ripe for rest,See Book II., 631.
' Greedy of power, the impious sword again
' He draws. As tigers in Hyrcanian woods
' Wandering, or in the caves that saw their birth,
' Once having lapped the blood of slaughtered kine,
' Shall never cease from rage; e'en so this whelp
' Of cruel Sulla, nursed in civil war,
' Outstrips his master; and the tongue which licked
' That reeking weapon ever thirsts for more.
' Stain once the lips with blood, no other meal
' They shall enjoy
M. Annaeus Lucanus, Pharsalia (ed. Sir Edward Ridley), book 2, line 439 (search)
When the Parthian war broke out and the Senate required each of the two leaders to supply a legion for it, Pompeius demanded the return of the legion which he had sent to Gaul; and Caesar returned it, together with one of his own. They were, however, retained in Italy.
Whom Magnus earlier, to his kinsman gave
A loan of Roman blood, to fight the Gaul.
But brave Domitius held firm his post See Book VII., 695.
Behind Corfinium's ramparts; his the troops
Who newly levied kept the judgment hall
At Milo's trial.Book I., 370. When from far the plain
Rolled up a dusty cloud, beneath whose veil
The sheen of armour glistening in the sun,
Revealed a marching host. ' Dash down,' he cried,
Swift as ye can, the bridge that spans the stream;
And thou, O river, from thy mountain source
With all thy torrents rushing, planks and beams
Ruined and broken on thy foaming breast
Bear onward to the sea. The war shall pause
Here, at these bounds : here shall this headlong chief
Await in idleness our victory.'