The doom lowering down is a peril to all, and the treason.

My gratitude owe I to you, not alone have I conquered!

Since punishment waits by our trophies and victory merits

Disgrace, then let Chance cast the lots. Raise the standard of
battle;

Again take your swords. Well I know that my cause is accomplished

Amidst such armed warriors I know that I cannot be beaten.'

While yet the words echoed, from heaven the bird of Apollo

Vouchsafed a good omen and beat with his pinions the ether.

From out of the left of a gloomy grove strange voices sounded

And flame flashed thereafter! The sun gleamed with brighter
refulgence

Unwonted, his face in a halo of golden flame shining."




CHAPTER THE ONE HUNDRED AND TWENTY-THIRD.

"By omens emboldened, to follow, the battle-flags, Caesar