iam princeps molitur iter gentesque remotas
colligit Aurorae, tumidus quascumque pererrat 69
Euphrates, quas lustrat Halys, quas ditat Orontes;
turiferos Arabes saltus, vada Caspia Medi,
Armenii Phasin, Parthi liquere Niphaten.
Quae tibi tuna Martis rabies quantusque sequendi
ardor erat? quanto flagrabant pectora voto
climb mountains, to run o’er the plain, to leap ravines and hollows, to spend sleepless nights of watching under arms, to drink melted snow from thy casque, to shoot the arrow from the bow or hurl the acorn-missiles with a Balearic sling. And the more to inflame thy heart with love of battle he would recount to thee the deeds of thy grandsire, object of dread to Libya’s sun-scorched shores and Thule whither no ship can sail. He conquered the fleet Moors and the well-named[140] Picts; his roaming sword pursued the flying Scot; his adventurous oars broke the surface of the northern seas. Crowned with the spoils of triumphs won beneath the northern and the southern sky he trod the wave-swept strand of either Ocean. Thus did he spur thy courage, thus sow the seeds of fame; these were the examples he gave. Not more avidly did Achilles himself drink in the Centaur’s precepts when he learnt of him how to wield the spear or play the lyre or discern healing plants.
Meanwhile the world forgot its loyalty: the thunder of civil war sounded afresh and discord shook the tottering earth. O ye guilty gods! O shame everlasting!—a barbarian[141] exile had possessed himself of the cities of Italy and had entrusted the government of Rome to some low-born dependent. But Theodosius was already afoot, rallying to his standard the distant nations of the East, the dwellers on the banks of flooding Euphrates, clear Halys, and rich Orontes. The Arabs left their spicy groves, the Medes the waters of the Caspian Sea, the Armenians the river Phasis, the Parthians the Niphates.