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M. Annaeus Lucanus, Pharsalia (ed. Sir Edward Ridley) 14 0 Browse Search
P. Ovidius Naso, Metamorphoses (ed. Brookes More) 2 0 Browse Search
Sallust, Conspiracy of Catiline (ed. John Selby Watson, Rev. John Selby Watson, M.A.) 2 0 Browse Search
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Browsing named entities in M. Annaeus Lucanus, Pharsalia (ed. Sir Edward Ridley). You can also browse the collection for Pharsalia (New York, United States) or search for Pharsalia (New York, United States) in all documents.

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M. Annaeus Lucanus, Pharsalia (ed. Sir Edward Ridley), book 1, line 33 (search)
For Nero's coming, nor the gods with ease Gain thrones in heaven; and if the Thunderer Prevailed not till the giants' war was done, We plain no more, ye gods! for such a boon All wickedness be welcome and all crime; Thronged with our dead be dire Pharsalia's fields, Be Punic ghosts avenged by Roman blood; Add, Caesar, to these ills the Mutin toils; Perusia's dearth; on Munda's final field The shock of battle joined; let Leucas' Cape Shatter the routed navies; servile hands Unsheath the sword on fiery Etna's slopes: Still Rome is gainer by the civil war. Thou, Caesar, art her prize. When thou shalt choose, Thy watch relieved, to seek at length the stars, All heaven rejoicing; and shalt hold a throne, Or else elect to govern Phoebus' car And light a subject world that shall not dread To owe her brightness to a different Sun; All shall concede thy right: do what thou wilt, Select thy Godhead, and the central clime Whence thou shalt rule the world with power divine. And yet the Northern
M. Annaeus Lucanus, Pharsalia (ed. Sir Edward Ridley), book 7, line 647 (search)
uth, although Cornelia was not by her husband's side at his murder, she was present at the scene. Then upon his steed, Though fearing not the weapons at his back, Pompeius fled, his mighty soul prepared To meet his final doom. He saw thy field, Pharsalia, tearless and without a groan; For solemn grief and majesty of mien Were in his face, as for the woes of Rome. No pride in him the day of victory found, Nor rout shall find despair; alike in days When fickle Fortune triple triumph gave And whenleeting past How wast thou great! Seek thou the wars no more, And call the gods to witness that for thee Henceforth no man shall die. The fights to come On Afric's mournful shore, by Pharos' stream And fateful Munda, and the final scene Of dire Pharsalia's battle are not thine. Thy name no more shall stir the world to war, But those great rivals biding with us yet, Caesar and Liberty; and not for thee When thou hadst fled the field, but for itself The dying Senate still upheld the fight. Find's
M. Annaeus Lucanus, Pharsalia (ed. Sir Edward Ridley), book 7, line 728 (search)
, Are piled within the tents. The wealth of kings And of Pompeius here awaits its lords. Haste, soldiers, and outstrip the flying foe; E'en now the vanquished of Pharsalia's field Anticipate your spoils.' No more he said, But drave them, blind with frenzy for the gold, To spurn the bodies of their fallen sires, And trample chiefs ie convulsions raged within the soul Of Pentheus mad; and in Agave'sBook VI., 420. mind When she had known her son. Before his gaze Flashed all the javelins which Pharsalia saw, Or that avenging day when drew their blades The Roman senators; and monstrous shapes Scourged all his frame. 'Tis thus the wretch shall find In guilty cons dire: He saw the Styx before his rival died: And goblin horrors from the depths of Hell Thronged on his sleep. Yet when the radiant sun Unveiled the butchery of Pharsalia's field The whole of this passage is foreign to Caesar's character, and unfounded in fact. 15,000 Pompeians perished on the field, and 24,000 were taken prisoner
M. Annaeus Lucanus, Pharsalia (ed. Sir Edward Ridley), book 9, line 215 (search)
t shore; ' Untamed Cilician, is thy course now set ' For Ocean theft again; Pompeius gone, ' Pirate art thou once more? ' Then all the air Hummed with the murmur of the throng; and one Resolved on flight thus answered, ' Pardon, chief, ' Twas love of Magnus, not of civil war, ' That led us to the fight: his side was ours: ' With him whom all the world preferred to peace, ' Our cause is perished. Let us seek our homes ' Long since unseen, our children and our wives. If nor the rout on dread Pharsalia's field Nor yet Pompeius' death shall close the war, Whence comes the end? Our span of life is fled: Give death safe haven, give old age his pyre. Scarce even to its captains civil strife Concedes due burial. Nor in our defeat Does Fortune threaten us with the savage yoke Of distant nations. In the garb of Rome And with her rights, I leave thee. Who had been Second to Magnus living, he shall be My first hereafter: to that sacred shade Be the prime honour. Chance of war appoints My lord but