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Nile 106 0 Browse Search
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Browsing named entities in a specific section of M. Annaeus Lucanus, Pharsalia (ed. Sir Edward Ridley). Search the whole document.

Found 12 total hits in 4 results.

Nile (search for this): book 9, card 734
uices 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 Sab
Scythia (search for this): book 9, card 734
o 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 According to one story Orion, for his assault on Diana
Rhone (search for this): book 9, card 734
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 troop
Tanais (Russia) (search for this): book 9, card 734
bsorbed 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