Hence on the fawning dog comes madness

  Hence die the calves in many a pasture fair,

  Or at full cribs their lives' sweet breath resign;

  Hence on the fawning dog comes madness, hence

  Racks the sick swine a gasping cough that chokes

  With swelling at the jaws: the conquering steed,

  Uncrowned of effort and heedless of the sward,

  Faints, turns him from the springs, and paws the earth


  With ceaseless hoof: low droop his ears, wherefrom

  Bursts fitful sweat, a sweat that waxes cold

  Upon the dying beast; the skin is dry,

  And rigidly repels the handler's touch.

  These earlier signs they give that presage doom.

  But, if the advancing plague 'gin fiercer grow,

  Then are their eyes all fire, deep-drawn their breath,

  At times groan-laboured: with long sobbing heave

  Their lowest flanks; from either nostril streams

  Black blood; a rough tongue clogs the obstructed jaws.

  'Twas helpful through inverted horn to pour

  Draughts of the wine-god down; sole way it seemed

  To save the dying: soon this too proved their bane,

  And, reinvigorate but with frenzy's fire,

  Even at death's pinch- the gods some happier fate

  Deal to the just, such madness to their foes-

  Each with bared teeth his own limbs mangling tore.