stars and waiting. He had lain thus and there many nights

That Caesar's self was wounded. Down he pressed

Deep in his soul the anguish, and, with mien,

No longer bent on fight, submissive cried,

"Spare me, ye citizens; remove the war

Far hence: no weapons now can haste my death;

Draw from my breast the darts, but add no more.

Yet raise me up to place me in the camp

Of Magnus, living: this your gift to him;