Page:The Pharsalia of Lucan; (IA cu31924026485809).pdf/110

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PHARSALIA
Book III
Oft in his fatal grasp he seized a foe 770Nor loosed his grip until the life was gone.Such was his frequent deed; but this his fate:For rising, victor (as he thought), to air,Full on a keel he struck and found his death.Some, drowning, seized a hostile oar and checkedThe flying vessel; not to die in vain,Their single care; some on their vessel's sideHanging, in death, with wounded frame essayedTo check the charging prow.Tyrrhenus highUpon the bulwarks of his ship was struck 780By leaden bolt from Balearic slingOf Lygdamus; straight through his temples passedThe fated missile; and in streams of bloodForced from their seats his trembling eyeballs fell.Plunged in a darkness as of night, he thoughtThat life had left him; yet ere long he knewThe living vigour of his limbs; and cried,'Place me, O friends, as some machine of war'Straight facing towards the foe; then shall my darts'Strike as of old; and thou, Tyrrhenus, spend 790'Thy latest breath, still left, upon the fight:'So shalt thou play, not wholly dead, the part'That fits a soldier, and the spear that strikes'Thy frame, shall miss the living.' Thus he spake,And hurled his javelin, blind, but not in vain;For Argus, generous youth of noble blood,Below the middle waist received the spearAnd falling drave it home. His aged sireFrom furthest portion of the conquered shipBeheld; than whom in prime of manhood none 800More brave in battle: now no more he fought,Yet did the memory of his prowess stir
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