and Pompeius accompanied him. Seven cohorts were behind in the
fortified camp. A great mass of auxiliaries and volunteers, as well as
two thousand reenlisted veterans, gave strength to the lines of fully
recruited cohorts. Out on the left wing, reaching up on to the
foothills, lay the pride of the oligarchs, seven thousand splendid
cavalry, the pick and flower of the exiled youth and nobility of Rome,
reenforced by the best squadrons of the East. Here Labienus led. The
Pompeian ranks were in three lines, drawn up ten deep. Forty-five
thousand heavy infantry were they; and the horse and light troops were
half as many--Spaniards, Africans, Italian exiles, Greeks,
Asiatics--the glory of every warlike, classic race.

Slowly, slowly, the Caesarian legionaries advanced over the plain.
Drusus knew that one of the most crucial hours of his life was before
him, yet he was very calm. He saw some wild roses growing on a bush by
the way, and thought how pretty they would look in a wreath on
Cornelia's hair. He exchanged jokes with his fellow-officers; scolded
a soldier who had come away without his sword in his sheath; asked
Antonius, when he came across him, if he did not envy Achilles for his
country-seat. It was as if he were going on the same tedious march of
days and days gone by. Yet, with it all he felt himself far more
intensely excited than ever before. He knew that his calm was so
unnatural that he wished to cry aloud, to run, weep, to do anything to
break it. This was to be the end of the great drama that had begun the
day Lentulus and Marcellus first sat down as consuls!

Slowly, slowly, that long snake, the marching army, dragged out of the
camp. The sun was high in the sky; the last cloud had vanished; the
blue above was as clear and translucent as it is conceivable anything
may be and yet retain its colour--not become clear light. The head of
the column was six hundred paces from the silent Pompeian lines which
awaited them. Then cohort after cohort filed off to the right and
left, and the line of battle was ready. On the right was the tenth
legion, on the left the weak ninth, reenforced by the eighth. There
were eighty cohorts in all, to oppose one hundred and ten. But the
ranks of Caesar's cohorts were thin. The numbers were scarce half as
many as in those of the foe. And to confront Labienus and his cavalry
Caesar had but one thousand horse. His army stood in three lines,
facing the enemy's infantry; but, though