shall be the guilt, who forces me to act as your enemy.’

Then Caesar let loose the bonds of war, and led his

standards swiftly over the swollen stream; so a lion

in the untilled wastes of burning Libya, seeing his foes

nearby, crouches at first, uncertain, rousing himself to rage,

but soon maddened, lashing his tail, his mane erect,

sends out a roaring from his cavernous mouth, such

that if a nimble Moor pierces his flesh with the lance

he brandishes, or a spear lances at his vast chest, he

leaps over the weapons careless of such wounds.

The reddish waters of the Rubicon glide through

the valleys and serve as the boundary between

the land of Gaul and the farms of Italy. Born from

a modest spring it is parched by the heat of summer,

but then its volume was increased by winter, its waters

swollen by the third rising of a rain-bearing moon

with its moisture-laden horns, and by Alpine snows

melted by damp gales. The cavalry first met the flow,

taking position slantwise across the current, lessening

its power so the rest of the army could ford it with ease.

Once Caesar had crossed and reached the Italian shore

on the further side, he halted on territory proscribed to them:

‘Here I relinquish peace,’ he cried, ‘and the law already

scorned, to follow you, my Fortune. Let me hear no more

talk of pacts, I have placed my trust in those for far

too long, now I must seek the judgement of war.’

DIVINE CAESAR

Metamorphoses, Book XV

Ovid

Translated by ‘Mr. Dryden and Others’, 1700