Gustave Flaubert, whose honoured rà´le
Was to be scribe to Nero's soul,
And make French flesh to creep and crow
O'er Carthaginian Salammbà´,
Lies here-in body, as in the brain,
Like Morgue-corpse tumid from the Seine.
What shall be writ above his grave?
Vitellius', Nero's dying stave?
-Fui Imperator,� shall it flow,
Or -Qualis artifex pereo.