ibat grandaevus nato moriente superstes post trabeas exul. quis prodere tanta relatu funera, quis caedes possit deflere nefandas? 250 quid tale inmanes umquam gessisse feruntur vel Sinis Isthmiaca pinu vel rupe profunda Sciron vel Phalaris tauro vel carcere Sulla? o mites Diomedis equi! Busiridis arae clementes! iam Cinna pius, iam Spartace segnis 255 Rufino collatus eris!
Deiecerat omnes occultis odiis terror tacitique sepultos suspirant gemitus indignarique verentur. at non magnanimi virtus Stilichonis eodem fracta metu; solus medio sed turbine rerum 260 contra letiferos rictus contraque rapacem movit tela feram, volucris non praepete cursu vectus equi, non Pegaseis adiutus habenis. hic cunctis optata quies, hic sola pericli turris erat clipeusque trucem porrectus in hostem, hic profugis sedes adversaque signa furori, 266 servandis hic castra bonis.
Hucusque minatus haerebat retroque fuga cedebat inerti: haud secus hiberno tumidus cum vertice torrens saxa rotat volvitque nemus pontesque revellit, 270 frangitur obiectu scopuli quaerensque meatum spumat et inlisa montem circumtonat unda.
Qua dignum te laude feram, qui paene ruenti
from their bodies; an aged man, once a consul, survived the murder of his son but to be driven into exile. Who can bring himself to tell of so many murders, who can adequately mourn such impious slaughter? Do men tell that cruel Sinis of Corinth e’er wrought such wickedness with his pine-tree, or Sciron with his precipitous rock, or Phalaris with his brazen bull, or Sulla with his prison? O gentle horses of Diomede! O pitiful altars of Busiris! Henceforth, compared with Rufinus thou, Cinna, shalt be loving, and thou, Spartacus, a sluggard.
All were a prey to terror, for men knew not where next his hidden hatred would break forth, they sob in silence for the tears they dare not shed and fear to show their indignation. Yet is not the spirit of great-hearted Stilicho broken by this same fear. Alone amid the general calamity he took arms against this monster of greed and his devouring maw, though not borne on the swift course of any wingèd steed nor aided by Pegasus’ reins. In him all found the quiet they longed for, he was their one defence in danger, their shield out-held against the fierce foe, the exile’s sanctuary, standard confronting the madness of Rufinus, fortress for the protection of the good.