Book III
MASSILIA
65
Scarce had they time for hate. In Phœbus' hall
Their hiding places left, a crowd appeared
Of Senators, uncalled, for none could call.
No Consul there the sacred shrine adorned
Nor Prætor next in rank, and every seat 120
Placed for the officers of state was void:
Cæsar was all; and to his private voice[1]
All else were listeners. The fathers sat
Ready to grant a temple or a throne,
If such his wish; and for themselves to vote
Or death or exile. Well it was for Rome
That Cæsar blushed to order what they feared.
Yet in one breast the spirit of freedom rose
Indignant for the laws; for when the gates
Of Saturn's temple hot Metellus saw, 130
Were yielding to the shock, he clove the ranks
Of Cæsar's troops, and stood before the doors
As yet unopened. 'Tis the love of gold
Alone that fears not death; no hand is raised
For perished laws or violated rights:
But for this dross, the vilest cause of all,
Men fight and die. Thus did the Tribune bar
The victor's road to rapine, and with voice
Clear 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
Their hiding places left, a crowd appeared
Of Senators, uncalled, for none could call.
No Consul there the sacred shrine adorned
Nor Prætor next in rank, and every seat 120
Placed for the officers of state was void:
Cæsar was all; and to his private voice[1]
All else were listeners. The fathers sat
Ready to grant a temple or a throne,
If such his wish; and for themselves to vote
Or death or exile. Well it was for Rome
That Cæsar blushed to order what they feared.
Yet in one breast the spirit of freedom rose
Indignant for the laws; for when the gates
Of Saturn's temple hot Metellus saw, 130
Were yielding to the shock, he clove the ranks
Of Cæsar's troops, and stood before the doors
As yet unopened. 'Tis the love of gold
Alone that fears not death; no hand is raised
For perished laws or violated rights:
But for this dross, the vilest cause of all,
Men fight and die. Thus did the Tribune bar
The victor's road to rapine, and with voice
Clear 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
