Kitap 7
Here at thy feet thy leading captains lie;
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' And here thy monarchs, and a suppliant world
' Entreats thee prostrate for thy kinsman's fall.
' So long shall Caesar plunge the world in war?
' Swift was thy tread when these proud nations fell;
' How deep their shame, and justly, should delay
'Now mar thy conquests! Where thy trust in Fate,
Thy fervour where? Ingrate! Dost dread the gods,
' Or think they favour not the Senate's cause?
' Thy troops unbidden shall the standards seize
' And conquer; thou in shame be forced to win.
' If at the Senate's orders and for us
' The war is waged, then give to us the right
' To choose the battle-field. Why dost thou keep
' From Caesar's throat the swords of all the world?
' The weapon quivers in the eager hand:
' Scarce one awaits the signal. Strike at once,
' Or without thee the trumpets sound the frav.
' Art thou the Senate's comrade or her lord?
His mind was adverse, but he felt the fates
Opposed his wish, and knew the hand divine.
'Since all desire it, and the fates prevail,
' So let it be; your leader now no more,
' I share the labours of the battle-field.
' Let Fortune roll the nations of the earth
' In one red ruin; myriads of mankind
' See their last sun to-day. Yet, Rome, I swear,
' This day of blood was forced upon thy son.
' Without a wound, the prizes of the war
' Might have been thine, and he who broke the peace
' In peace forgotten. Whence this lust for crime?
' Shall bloodless victories in civil war
' Be shunned, not sought? We've ravished from our foe
All boundless seas, and land; his starving troops
' Have snatched earth's crop half-grown, in vain attempt
' Their hunger to appease; they prayed for death,
' Sought for the sword-thrust, and within our ranks
' Were fain to mix their life-blood with your own.
