Thesauros Literature Epic Pharsalia

Pharsalia

Pharsalia Lucan 39-65

Book 1

 
As when some oak, in fruitful field sublime,Mr. Canning, in his speech on the vote for the Windsor Establishment, said of King George III., 'Scathed by Heaven's lightning, but consecrated as much as blasted by the blow, he yet exhibited to the awe and veneration of mankind a mighty monument of strength and majesty in decay. He stood like the oak of the poet stripped of that luxuriant foliage and spreading those denuded arms which had afforded shelter to successive generations: et trunco non frondibus efficit umbram.' 1
 
Adorned with venerable spoils, and gifts
 
Of bygone leaders, by its weight to earth
 
With feeble roots still clings; its naked arms
 
And hollow trunk, though leafless, give a shade;
 
And though condemned beneath the tempest's shock
 
To speedy fall, amid the sturdier trees
 
In sacred grandeur rules the forest still.
 
No such repute had Caesar won, nor fame;
 
But energy was his that could not rest-
 
The only shame he knew was not to win.
 
Keen and unvanquished, Cicero wrote thus of Caesar: 'Have you ever read or heard of a man more vigorous in action or more moderate in the use of victory than our Caesar' - Epp. ad Diversos, viii. 15. where revenge or hope
 
Might call, resistless would he strike the blow
 
With sword unpitying: every victory won
 
Reaped to the full; the favour of the gods
 
Pressed to the utmost; all that stayed his course
 
Aimed at the summit of power, was thrust aside:
 
Triumph his joy, though ruin marked his track.
 
As parts the clouds a bolt by winds compelled,
 
With crack of riven air and crash of worlds,
 
And veils the light of day, and on mankind,
 
Blasting their vision with its flames oblique,
 
Sheds deadly fright; then turning to its home,
 
Nought but the air opposing, through its path
 
Spreads havoc, and collects its scattered fires.
 
Such were the hidden motives of the chiefs;
 
But in the public life the seeds of war
 
Their hold had taken, such as are the doom
 
Of potent nations: and when fortune poured
 
Through Roman gates the booty of a world,
 
The curse of luxury, chief bane of states,
 
Fell on her sons. Farewell the ancient ways!
 
Behold the pomp profuse, the houses decked
 
With ornament; their hunger loathed the food
 
Of former days; men wore attire for dames
 
Scarce fitly fashioned; poverty was scorned,
 
Fruitful of warriors; and from all the world
 
Came that which ruins nations; while the fields
 
Furrowed of yore by great Camillus' plough,
 
Or by the mattock which a Curius held,

nav.navigate

nav.identity

common.settings

common.language
TR EN
common.theme