Page:Statius (Mozley 1928) v2.djvu/89
THEBAID, VI. 209–233
raiment; the boughs are fattened with Assyrian juices, pale saffron drops hissing in the burning honey; foaming bowls of wine are outpoured, and beakers of black blood and pleasant milk yet warm from the udder.[1] Then squadrons seven in number—a hundred tail knights in each—led by the Greek-born kings themselves with arms reversed, circling leftward in due manner purify the pyre, and quell with their dust the shooting flames. Thrice accomplished they their wheeling course, then with resounding clash of arms on arms four times[2] their weapons gave forth a terrible din, four times the handmaids beat their breasts in womanly lament. The other fire receives half-dead animals and beasts yet living; here the prophet bids them cease their wailing, ominous of fresh disaster, although he knows the signs are true; rightward they wheel and so return with quivering spears, and each throws some offering snatched from his own armour, be it rein or belt he is pleased to plunge into the flames, or javelin or helmet’s shady crest. [Around, the countryside is filled with the hoarse cries of wailing, and piercing trumpets rend the ear. Loud shouts affright the groves; even so do the bugles tear the Martian standards from the ground, while anger still is cool, and the sword unreddened with blood, and the first face of battle is made fair and glorious: high on a cloud stands Mavors, uncertain yet which host to favour.]
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