Page:The Pharsalia of Lucan; (IA cu31924026485809).pdf/107

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Book III
MASSILIA
83
Cause of fresh anguish to their sorrowing souls,Called ever to the weeping parents backThe image of the lost: who, as the oarsGrecian and Roman mixed their teeth oblique,Grasped with his dexter hand the Roman ship;When fell a blow that shore his arm away.So died, upon the side it held, the hand,Nor loosed its grasp in death. Yet with the woundHis noble courage rose, and maimed he dared 680Renew the fray, and stretched across the seaTo grasp the lost—in vain! another blowLopped arm and hand alike. Nor shield nor swordHenceforth are his. Yet even now he seeksNo sheltering hold, but with his chest advancedBefore his brother armed, he claims the fight,And holding in his breast the darts which elseHad slain his comrades, pierced with countless spears,He falls in death well earned; yet ere his endCollects his parting life, and all his strength 690Strains to the utmost and with failing limbsLeaps on the foeman's deck; by weight aloneInjurious; for streaming down with goreAnd piled on high with corpses, while her sidesSounded to ceaseless blows, the fated shipLet in the greedy brine until her waysWere level with the waters—then she plungedIn whirling eddies downwards—and the mainFirst parted, then closed in upon its prey.Full many wondrous deaths, with fates diverse, 700Upon the sea in that day's fight befell.Caught by a grappling-hook that missed the side,Had Lysidas been whelmed in middle deep;But by his feet his comrades dragged him back,And rent in twain he hung; nor slowly flowed
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