“But soon a fate more sad with new surprise From the first object turns their wondering eyes. Wretched Sabellus by a Seps was stung: Fixed on his leg with deadly teeth it hung. Sudden the soldier shook it from the wound, Transfixed and nailed it to the barren ground. Of all the dire, destructive serpent race, None have so much of death, though none are less. For straight around the part the skin withdrew, The flesh and shrinking sinews backward flew. And left the naked bones exposed to view. The spreading poisons all the parts confound, And the whole body sinks within the wound. ⋮ Small relics of the mouldering mass were left, At once of substance as of form bereft; Dissolved, the whole in liquid poison ran, And to a nauseous puddle shrunk the man. ⋮ So snows dissolved by southern breezes run, So melts the wax before the noonday sun. Nor ends the wonder here; though flames are known To waste the flesh, yet still they spare the bone: Here none were left, no least remains were seen,