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"You are thinking of the Belgians," I said, "and of the Gauls in the Valley of the Liger. They call Mercury Tiv or Tir and regard him as their chief god. But we provincials never had any such ideas: we worship the same gods as you, in the same way. But I, personally, while revering Jupiter as king of the gods, have always particularly sought the favor of Mercury."
Liburni, an ancient people of Illyricum, inhabiting part of the present Croatia Liger, or Ligeris, the Loire; one of the greatest and most celebrated rivers of France, said to receive one hundred and twelve rivers in its course; it rises in Velay, and falls into the Bay of Aquitain, below Nantz, G. iii. 5 Liscus, one of the Aedui, accuses Dumnorix to Caesar, G. i. 16, 17
The Ambassage of Master Henry Roberts, one of the sworne Esquires of her Maiesties person, from her highnesse to Mully Hamet Emperour of Morocco and the King of Fesse and Sus, in the yeere 1585: who remained there as Liger for the space of 3. yeeres. Written briefly by himselfe.
Even as Aegaeon, who, men say, had an hundred arms, an hundred hands, fifty mouths and breasts ablaze with fire, and arrayed against Jove's thunders as many clashing shields and drawn swords: so Aeneas, when once his sword's point grew warm, rages victorious over all the field. Meanwhile the brothers Lucagus and Liger drive up with their pair of white horses.
Æneas assailed his dying ears with a bitter scoff: "It is not, O Lucagus, the slowness of thy steeds in flight that hath lost thee thy chariot, but thou thyself, springing from thy seat, hast abandoned it." So saying, he seized the chariot; and now the miserable Liger, extending his hands in supplication, begged for his life.
"These," cried Liger, "are not the steeds of Diomedes, nor this the plain of Troy. Here an end shall be put at once to thy life and to the war."
Plus que le marbre dur me plaist l'ardoise fine, Plus mon Loire Gaulois que le Tybre Latin is anticipated here. The softer northern loveliness, la douceur Angevine, appeals to Ausonius more than all the traditional beauties of Arcadia or Sicily. It is with the Gallic rivers that he compares his loved Moselle: Non tibi se Liger anteferet, non Axona praeceps ... te sparsis incerta Druentia ripis.
Lucagus valiantly waves his drawn sword, while his brother wheels his horses with the rein. Aeneas, wrathful at their mad onslaught, rushes on them, towering high with levelled spear. To him Liger . . . 'Not Diomede's horses dost thou discern, nor Achilles' chariot, nor the plains of Phrygia: now on this soil of ours the war and thy life shall end together. Thus fly mad Liger's random words.
Still insatiable of slaughter, he drove into terrified flight Antæus and Lycas, two of Turnus's bravest followers. But now the fierce Lucagus approached in a chariot drawn by two snow-white coursers. These were guided by his brother Liger, while he himself flourished his sword in the air, and prepared to encounter Æneas, who on his part rushed forward to meet them.
On all sides a shout goes up. They advance and fill the trenches with heaps of earth; some toss glowing brands on the roofs. Liger slays Emathion, Asylas Corinaeus, the one skilled with the javelin, the other with the stealthy arrow from afar.
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