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.For it’s settled:I go to learn what lands hold justice or iniquity.170Accept my final prayers, whatever god may stillattend me: grant me peoples similar to Lesbos,who won’t forbid a man beaten down by Marsto enter their ports, though Caesar may harass them—or stop me from leaving.”He spoke, and set downhis partner in the boat.You would have thought they allwere leaving the land and soil of their fathers,the way they wailed up and down the shore and stretcheddefiant arms toward heaven.Pompey’s fortuneshad moved their pity, yes, but watching her depart— 180whom throughout the war they had regardedas their own citizen—the populace truly groaned.Even if she had left to join her husband’s campsin victory, the matrons would hardly have been ableto let her go without tears, she had so won their lovewith modesty, her honest ways, the sober restraintof her chaste demeanor.With her humble retinueshe was a guest whom none found too oppressive.Even while her fate stood high, she lived with themas though her husband had already been defeated.190POMPEY SAILS SOUTHThe Titan Sun had fallen, with half his firesnow in the sea, his orb not wholly visibleto those from whom he hid nor those, if any,on whom he rose…The restless cares in Pompey’s breastturned now to the cities allied in treaty with Romeand the fickle minds of kings, now to the world’s tracklessexpanses of too much sun lying beyond the South…Often in sad toils of worry, loathing the future,he banished his heart’s strenuous storm of doubtsquestioning the ship’s pilot about all the stars.200From which does he mark the lands? To cut a pathin the sea what measure is in the sky? Which starkeeps Syria in view? Or which of the Wagon’s firessteers well toward Libya?The expert observerof silent Olympus addressed his queries: “Whicheverrise and fall on heaven’s zodiac wheel, which neverstands still, those deceive poor sailors and wedon’t follow them.But one doesn’t go under sea,the unsetting axle, brightest in the twin Bears,that one governs ships.When it’s rising for me 210ever toward the zenith and the Little Bear climbsup the top of the yard braces, we’re heading forBosporus and Pontus, with Scythia’s curving shores.But when the Bear Guard slides down the topmastand the Dog’s Tail sweeps into the sea, the shipis aiming for port in Syria.Then Canopus appears,a star that keeps its roving to the southern sky,afraid of the north wind.Keep that one on your leftand press on past Pharos, mid-sea the ship hits Syrtis.What are your orders then? Whither do we give sail? 220What sheet should stretch the canvases?”His mind in doubt,Magnus answered: “Over the entire oceankeep one thing in view, that your ship is alwaysfarther away from Emathia’s coast.Abandon the skyand sea of Hesperia.Leave the rest to the winds.I rescued my dear companion whom I had placed in trust.Then I knew for certain what shores I wanted most.But now, let Fortune choose our port.”At his wordthe pilot turned the sails hanging straight and trueupon the yardarms, swinging the ship hard to port, 230and to cut the waves that billow rough betweenPsyria’s crags and Chios, he slackens the bowlinesand tightens those at the stern—the prow changed course,the keel wheeled round, the sea sensed the motionand made a new sound.No horseman so adroitlycircles his left axle round on the right-hand wheel,forcing his chariot near the turn post without a foul.ALLIES REGROUP, DEIOTARUSSENT EAST TO SEEK AIDRevealing lands, the Titan Sun veiled the stars.Scattered by Emathia’s tempest, all who escapedcatch up with Magnus.First off the coast of Lesbos 240his son overtakes him, and soon a host of loyal chiefs.For even cast down by fate, his troops put to flight,Fortune had not deprived Magnus of attendant kings
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