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M. Annaeus Lucanus, Pharsalia (ed. Sir Edward Ridley) 4 0 Browse Search
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M. Annaeus Lucanus, Pharsalia (ed. Sir Edward Ridley), book 1, line 158 (search)
saw that Caesar doubted still, Spake out; ' So long as I the rostrum held ' By this my voice against the Senate's will ' Was thy command prolonged, and to thy side ' By me were drawn the wavering men of Rome. ' Mute now are laws in war; we from our hearths Are driven, yet willing exiles; for thine arms Shall make us citizens of Rome again. 'Strike;'Strike.' Dante places Curio in the ninth gulf of hell, 'from whose throat was cut the tongue which spake that hardy word.'-' Inferno,' xxviii.98 (Cary). for no strength as yet the foe hath gained. 'To pause when ready is to court defeat: 'Like risk, like labour, thou hast known before, 'But never such reward. Could Gallia hold 'Thine armies ten long years ere victory came, 'That little nook of earth? One paltry fight 'Or twain, fought out by thy resistless hand, 'And Rome for thee shall have subdued the world: 'Tis true no triumph now would bring thee home; 'No captive tribes would grace thy chariot wheels 'Winding in pomp around the anci
M. Annaeus Lucanus, Pharsalia (ed. Sir Edward Ridley), book 9, line 619 (search)
ing in dreadful dews upon the soil, And in the crumbling sands by heat matured. Where first within the dust the venom germ This catalogue of snakes is alluded to in Dante's 'Inferno,' 24. I saw a crowd within Of serpents terrible, so strange of shape And hideous that remembrance in my veins Yet shrinks the vital current. Of her sands Let Libya vaunt no more: if Jaculus, Pareas, and Chelyder be her brood, Cenchris and Amphisbaena, plagues so dire Or in such numbers swarming ne'er she showed. - Cary. See also Milton's 'Paradise Lost,' Book X., 520-530. All my being, Like him whom the Numidian Seps did thaw Into a dew with poison, is dissolved, Sinking through its foundations. Shelley, ' Prometheus Unbound,' Act iii., Scene i. 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 gai