This people, wearied with their countless woes,
Have snatched themselves from life and misery,
And given their long account a sudden close.
Numantia now is changed into a sea
Of ruby blood, encumbered with the slain,
Who fell by self-inflicted cruelty.
Escaped have they from slav'ry's grinding chain,
Whose load unequalled they declined to bear,
With swift audacity that feared no pain.
I saw within the middle of the square,[13]