Page:The Pharsalia of Lucan; (IA cu31924026485809).pdf/88

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PHARSALIA
Book III
What long array of triumph had he brought!What pictured scenes of battle! how had RhineAnd Ocean borne his chains! How noble Gaul,And Britain's fair-haired chiefs his lofty carHad followed! Such a triumph had he lost 90By further conquest. Now in silent fearThey watched his marching troops, nor joyful townsPoured out their crowds to welcome his return.Yet did the conqueror's proud soul rejoice,Far more than at their love, at such a fear.Now Anxur's hold was passed, the oozy roadThat separates the marsh, the grove sublime[1]Where reigns the Scythian goddess, and the pathBy which men bear the fasces to the feastOn Alba's summit. From the height afar— 100Gazing in awe upon the walls of RomeHis native city, since the Northern warUnseen, unvisited—thus Cæsar spake:'Who would not fight for such a god-like town?'And have they left thee, Rome, without a blow?'Thank the high gods no eastern hosts are here'To wreak their fury; nor Sarmatian horde'With northern tribes conjoined; by Fortune's gift'This war is civil: else this coward chief'Had been thy ruin.'Trembling at his feet 110He found the city: deadly fire and flame,As from a conqueror, gods and fanes dispersed;Such was the measure of their fear, as thoughHis power and wish were one. No festal shoutGreeted his march, no feigned acclaim of joy.

    celebrated four triumphs: for his victories over the Gauls, Ptolemæus, Pharnaces, and Juba.

  1. ↑ Near Aricia. (See Book VI., 92.)
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