Page:The Pharsalia of Lucan; (IA cu31924026485809).pdf/108
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PHARSALIA
Book III
As from a wound the blood; but all his veins[1]Were torn asunder and the stream of lifeGushed o'er his limbs till lost amid the deep.From no man dying has the vital breathRushed by so wide a path; the lower trunk 710Succumbed to death, but with the lungs and heartLong strove the fates, and hardly won the whole.While, bent upon the fight, an eager crewWere gathered to the margin of their deck(Leaving the upper side as bare of foes),Their ship was overset. Beneath the keelWhich floated upwards, prisoned in the sea,And powerless by spread of arms to floatThe main, they perished. One who haply swamAmid the battle, chanced upon a death 720Strange and unheard of; for two meeting prowsTransfixed his body. At the double strokeWide yawned his chest; blood issued from his mouthWith flesh commingled; and the brazen beaksResounding clashed together, by the bonesUnhindered: now they part and through the gapSwift pours the sea and drags the corse below.Next, of a shipwrecked crew, the larger partStruggling with death upon the waters, reachedA comrade bark; but when with elbows raised 730They seized upon the bulwarks and the shipRolled, nor could bear their weight, the ruthless crewHacked off their straining arms; then maimed they sankBelow the seething waves, to rise no more.Now every dart was hurled and every spear,The soldier weaponless; yet their rage found arms:One hurls an oar; another's brawny arm
- ↑ According to some these were the lines which Lucan recited while bleeding to death; according to others, those at Book ix, line 952.