TO PYRRHUS.
Horace
Do you not perceive, O Pyrrhus, at what hazard yon are taking away the
whelps from a Gutulian lioness? In a little while you, a timorous
ravisher, shall fly from the severe engagement, when she shall march
through the opposing band of youths, re-demanding her beauteous
Nearchus; a grand contest, whether a greater share of booty shall fall
to thee or to her! In the mean time, while you produce your swift
arrows, she whets her terrific teeth; while the umpire of the combat is
reported to have placed the palm under his naked foot, and refreshed his
shoulder, overspread with his perfumed locks, with the gentle breeze:
just such another was Nireus, or he that was ravished from the watery
Ida.
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