Upon the others set, like baited bull on brand.
The slain were strewn in heaps of many hundred men,
Their heads were piled in pyramids, by thousands ten.
Their blood was shed in torrents, flowing on the plain.
The dust arose in clouds through this commotion vain.
The seeds of discord sown by that knave’s treacherous hand,
Had now produced their harvest, fatal to the land.
The nuts he cracked were skulls; their kernels, human brains.
The bodies slain through him held precious souls in chains.395
Be killed, or die, as in thy lot may be decreed.