Caesar, in the town Placing no trust, within the palace courts Lay in ignoble hiding place, the gates Close barred: nor all the kingly rooms possessed, But in the narrowest portion of the space He drew his band together.

There in arms They stood, with dread and fury in their souls.
He feared attack, indignant at his fear.
Thus will a noble beast in little cage Imprisoned, fume, and break upon the bars His teeth in frenzied wrath; nor more would rage The flames of Vulcan in Sicilian depths Should Etna's top be closed.

He who but now By Haemus' mount against Pompeius chief, Italia's leaders and the Senate line, His cause forbidding hope, looked at the fates He knew were hostile, with unfaltering gaze, Now fears before the crime of hireling slaves, And in mid palace trembles at the blow: He whom nor Scythian nor Alaun (22) had dared To violate, nor the Moor who aims the dart Upon his victim slain, to prove his skill.
The Roman world but now did not suffice To hold him, nor the realms from furthest Ind To Tyrian Gades.

Now, as puny boy, Or woman, trembling when a town is sacked, Within the narrow corners of a house He seeks for safety; on the portals closed His hope of life; and with uncertain gait He treads the hails; yet not without the King; In purpose, Ptolemaeus, that thy life For his shall give atonement; and to hurl Thy severed head among the servant throng Should darts and torches fail.

So story tells The Colchian princess (23) with sword in hand, And with her brother's neck bared to the blow, Waited her sire, avenger of his realm Despoiled, and of her flight.