Rivers of blood, like smoking Phlegethons;
Fires flashed from burning villages, and Famine
Shrieked in the empty cornfields! Women and children,
Robbed of their sires and husbands, left to starve—
These were the dwellers of the land! Say’st thou
Rome wars not, then, on women?
Jov. This is not to the matter.
Spart. Now, by Jove,
It is! These things do Romans. But the earth
Is sick of conquerors. There is not a man,