Caesar was my leader by the waves of Rhine, here he is my comrade. The stain of crime makes all men equal.
quidquid gerimus fortuna vocatur. nos fatum sciat esse suum.
As fortune's gift He takes the victory which our arms have won: But _we_ his fortunes are, his fates are ours To fashion as we will. SIR E. RIDLEY.
The lines are brilliant and worthy of life: in their immediate context they are ridiculous. Epigrams have their value, however, even when they suit their context ill, and neither Juvenal nor Tacitus has surpassed Lucan in this respect, or been more often quoted. He is, says Quintilian, _sententiis clarissimus_. Nothing can surpass (iv. 519)--
victurosque dei celant, ut vivere durent, felix esse mori.
And the gods conceal from those who are doomed to live how happy it is to die. Thus only may they endure to live.
mutantur prospera vitae, non fit morte miser;
Life may bring defeat, But death no misery. SIR E. RIDLEY.
Deep lie the wounds that civil war hath made.
scire mori sors prima viris, sed proxima cogi.
Best gift of all The knowledge how to die: next, death compelled. SIR E. RIDLEY.
To pause when ready is to court defeat. SIR E. RIDLEY.
The crime is free where thousands bear the guilt. SIR E. RIDLEY.
are commonplace enough in thought but perfect in expression. Of a different character, but equally noteworthy, are sayings such as iv. 819--
The change of Curio turned the scale of history.
usque adeone times, quem tu facis ipse timendum?
Dost fear him so Who takes his title to be feared from thee? SIR E. RIDLEY, _slightly altered._
Lucan's gift for epigram is further enhanced by the nature of his metre. Ponderous in the extreme, it is ill-suited for epic, though in isolated lines its very weight gives added force. But he had a poor ear for rhythm: his hexameter is monotonous as the iambics of Seneca. There is a want of variety in pauses; he will not accommodate his rhythm to circumstances; line follows line with but the slightest rhythmical variation, and there is far too[307] sparing a use of elision. This failing is in part due to his desire to steer clear of the influence of Vergil and strike out on a line of his own. Faint echoes of Vergil, it is true, occur frequently throughout the poem, but to the untrained eye Lucan is emphatically un-Vergilian. His affinity to Ovid is greater. Both are rhetorical, and Lucan is indebted to Ovid for much mythological detail. And it is probable that he owes his smoothness and monotony of metre largely to the influence of the _Metamorphoses_. His ponderosity is all his own.[308]