No vessels were in view; but, on the plain, Three beamy stags command a lordly train Of branching heads: the more ignoble throng Attend their stately steps, and slowly graze along.
Thus while their straggling parties we defeat, Some to the shore and safer ships retreat; And some, oppress’d with more ignoble fear, Remount the hollow horse, and pant in secret there.
Nor with less rage Euryalus employs The wrathful sword, or fewer foes destroys; But on th’ ignoble crowd his fury flew; He Fadus, Hebesus, and Rhoetus slew.
Here, overmatch’d in fight, in heaps they lie; There, scatter’d o’er the fields, ignobly fly.
Cowards incurable, a woman’s hand Drives, breaks, and scatters your ignoble band!
By you yourselves, and mighty battles won, By my great sire, by his establish’d name, And early promise of my future fame; By my youth, emulous of equal right To share his honors— shun ignoble flight!
Mankind, it seems, is made for you alone; We, but the slaves who mount you to the throne: A base ignoble crowd, without a name, Unwept, unworthy, of the fun’ral flame, By duty bound to forfeit each his life, That Turnus may possess a royal wife.
As, when in tumults rise th’ ignoble crowd, Mad are their motions, and their tongues are loud; And stones and brands in rattling volleys fly, And all the rustic arms that fury can supply: If then some grave and pious man appear, They hush their noise, and lend a list’ning ear; He soothes with sober words their angry mood, And quenches their innate desire of blood: So, when the Father of the Flood appears, And o’er the seas his sov’reign trident rears, Their fury falls: he skims the…
So many valiant heroes bite the ground; Dejected grief in ev’ry face appears; A town in mourning, and a land in tears; While he, th’ undoubted author of our harms, The man who menaces the gods with arms, Yet, after all his boasts, forsook the fight, And sought his safety in ignoble flight.
The Latian chiefs have seen me beg my life; Thine is the conquest, thine the royal wife: Against a yielded man, ’t is mean ignoble strife."
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There is something cowardly and ignoble in his attitude.
To give him annual tribute, do him homage; Subject his coronet to his crown, and bend The dukedom, yet unbow’d—alas, poor Milan!— To most ignoble stooping.