Of Those Who are Namèd Brutus by Birth:
For these visions presented to me here—
One of silver placed in burning parchment
And one of a dog who killed his master—
Warrant ill tidings for the following:
Decius, stay your silver tongue at home,
For persuasion of Caesar shall bring doom.
Do not present any letters of sort
If you happen to fail at the last task
For you impede Artimedorus’ path
And Artimedorus shall stay death’s blade.
If you happen to fail again, my friend,
You shall suffer the dire consequences.
If death be not dire enough, Decius,
Then live out a short life from today on.
If by calling of friends you are Brutus,
Then stay quite close to your powerful friend
Lest you be swept up in death’s great tempest.
Make your decision against loyalty
To your country, for Rome breeds discontent
And those who quickly forget their leader
For the newer and far more persuasive
Successor to the ruler. Should you fail
To accomplish my simple direction,
Then be swept up, though you can still be saved.
If you can happen to stay the blades of
The men who consult you for advice, then
Innocent blood (and yours) will be sparèd.
Fail again, and loose a dear companion;
He will be killed by your very own hands.
I say again, abandon your old Rome,
Or at least do not lay its ears in the
Hands of one who plots quick vengeance for you.
For failing these three tasks instructed, you
Will surely taste the blades of the Romans,
Be it either an assassination
Or on the tides of war, you’ll surely die.