Book 6
Then blazing torches rolling pitchy flame
1
Are hurled, and shaken nod the lofty towers
And threaten ruin, and the bastions groan
Struck by the frequent engine, and the troops
Of Magnus by triumphant eagles led
Stride o'er the rampart, in their front the world.
Yet now that passage which not Caesar's self
Nor thousand valiant squadrons had availed
To rescue from their grasp, one man in arms
Steadfast till death refused them; Scaeva named
This hero soldier: long he served in fight
Waged 'gainst the savage on the banks of Rhone;
And now centurion made, through deeds of blood,
He bore the staffThe vinewood staff was the badge of the centurion's office. before the marshalled line.
Prone to all wickedness, he little recked
How valourous deeds in civil war may be
Greatest of crimes; and when he saw how turned
His comrades fron the war and sought in flight
A refuge, ' Whence,' he cried, 'this impious fear
Unknown to Caesar's armies? Do ye turn
'Your backs on death, and are ye not ashamed
Not to be found where slaughtered heroes lie?
'Is loyalty too weak? Yet love of fight
'Might bid you stand. We are the chosen few
'Through whom the foe would break. Unbought by blood
'This day shall not be theirs. 'Neath Caesar's eye,
'True, death would be more happy; but this boon
'Fortune denies: at least my fall shall be
'Praised by Pompeius. Shatter with your breasts
' Their weapons; blunt the edges of their swords
' With throats unyielding. In the distant lines
' The dust is seen already, and the sound
' Of tumult and of ruin finds the ear
Of Caesar: strike; the victory is ours:
'For he shall come who while his soldiers die
Shall make the fortress his.' His voice calls forth
The courage that the trumpets failed to rouse
When first they rang: his comrades mustering come
To watch his deeds; and, wondering at the man,
To test if valour thus by foes oppressed,
