Page:The Pharsalia of Lucan; (IA cu31924026485809).pdf/89
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Book III
MASSILIA
65
Scarce had they time for hate. In Phœbus' hallTheir hiding places left, a crowd appearedOf Senators, uncalled, for none could call.No Consul there the sacred shrine adornedNor Prætor next in rank, and every seat 120Placed for the officers of state was void:Cæsar was all; and to his private voice[1]All else were listeners. The fathers satReady to grant a temple or a throne,If such his wish; and for themselves to voteOr death or exile. Well it was for RomeThat Cæsar blushed to order what they feared.Yet in one breast the spirit of freedom roseIndignant for the laws; for when the gatesOf Saturn's temple hot Metellus saw, 130Were yielding to the shock, he clove the ranksOf Cæsar's troops, and stood before the doorsAs yet unopened. 'Tis the love of goldAlone that fears not death; no hand is raisedFor perished laws or violated rights:But for this dross, the vilest cause of all,Men fight and die. Thus did the Tribune barThe victor's road to rapine, and with voiceClear ringing spake: 'Save o'er Metellus dead'This temple opens not; my sacred blood 140'Shall flow, thou robber, ere the gold be thine.'And surely shall the Tribune's power defied'Find an avenging god; this Crassus knew,[2]'Who, followed by our curses, sought the war'And met disaster on the Parthian plains.'Draw then thy sword, nor fear the crowd that gapes