Scarce had he finished, when with speckled pride, A serpent from the tomb began to glide; His hugy bulk on seven high volumes rolled; Blue was his breadth of back, but streaked with scaly gold; Thus, riding on his curls, he seemed to pass A rolling fire along, and singe the grass. More various colors through his body run, Than Iris, when her bow imbibes the sun. Betwixt the rising altars, and around, The rolling monster shot along the ground. With harmless play amidst the bowls he passed, And with his lolling tongue assayed the taste; Thus fed with holy food, the wondrous guest Within the hollow tomb retired to rest. The pious prince, surprised at what he viewed, The funeral honors with more zeal renewed; Doubtful if this the place's genius were, Or guardian of his father's sepulchre. We may conjecture from the paintings, which bear a marked resemblance to one another, that these snakes were of considerable size, and of the same species, probably that called Æsculapius, which was brought from Epidaurus to Rome with the worship of the god, and, as we are told by Pliny, was commonly fed in the houses of Rome. These sacred animals made war on the rats and mice, and thus kept down one species of vermin; but as they bore a charmed life, and no one laid violent hands on them, they multiplied so fast, that, like the monkeys of Benares, they became an intolerable nuisance. The frequent fires at Rome were the only things that kept them under.