XXXIII.

Now Roman is to Roman
More hateful than a foe;
And the Tribunes beard the high,
And the Fathers grind the low.
As we wax hot in faction,

In battle we wax cold;

Wherefore men fight not as they fought

In the brave days of old.

270

280

XXXV.

Meanwhile the Tuscan army,

Right glorious to behold,

Come flashing back the noonday light,
Rank behind rank, like surges bright
Of a broad sea of gold.

Four hundred trumpets sounded

A peal of warlike glee,

As that great host, with measured tread,
And spears advanced, and ensigns spread,
Rolled slowly towards the bridge's head,
Where stood the dauntless Three.

290

XXXVI.

The Three stood calm and silent

And looked upon the foes, And a great shout of laughter

From all the vanguard rose ;

And forth three chiefs came spurring

Before that deep array:

To earth they sprang, their swords. they drew,
And lifted high their shields, and flew
To win the narrow way;

XXXVII.

Aunus from green Tifernum,
Lord of the Hill of Vines;

And Seius, whose eight hundred slaves

Sicken in Ilva's mines;

And Picus, long to Clusium

Vassal in peace and war,

Who led to fight his Umbrian powers

From that gray crag where, girt with towers,
The fortress of Nequinum lowers

O'er the pale waves of Nar.

XXXVIII.

Stout Lartius hurled down Aunus

Into the stream beneath;

Herminius struck at Seius,

And clove him to the teeth;

At Picus brave Horatius

Darted one fiery thrust,

And the proud Umbrian's gilded arms

Clashed in the bloody dust.

300

310

XXXIX.

Then Ocnus of Falerii

Rushed on the Roman Three; And Lausulus of Urgo,

The rover of the sea;

And Aruns of Volsinium,

Who slew the great wild boar,

The great wild boar that had his den
Amidst the reeds of Cosa's fen,

And wasted fields and slaughtered men
Along Albinia's shore.

XL.

Herminius smote down Aruns;

Lartius laid Ocnus low; Right to the heart of Lausulus

Horatius sent a blow.

'Lie there,' he cried, 'fell pirate!

No more, aghast and pale,

From Ostia's walls the crowd shall mark
The track of thy destroying bark.

No more Campania's hinds shall fly
To woods and caverns when they spy
Thy thrice accursed șail.'

XLI.

But now no sound of laughter
Was heard among the foes;
A wild and wrathful clamor

From all the vanguard rose.
Six spears' length from the entrance
Halted that deep array,

And for a space no man came forth
To win the narrow way.

320

330

340

Then, whirling up his broadsword
With both hands to the height,

He rushed against Horatius,

And smote with all his might. With shield and blade Horatius Right deftly turned the blow.

The blow, though turned, came yet too nigh; 370 It missed his helm, but gashed his thigh:

The Tuscans raised a joyful cry

To see the red blood flow.

XLV.

He reeled and on Herminius

He leaned one breathing-space,

Then, like a wild cat mad with wounds,
Sprang right at Astur's face.

Through teeth and skull and helmet

So fierce a thrust he sped,

The good sword stood a hand-breadth out

Behind the Tuscan's head.

XLVI.

And the great Lord of Luna
Fell at that deadly stroke,
As falls on Mount Alvernus
A thunder-smitten oak.
Far o'er the crashing forest

The giant arms lie spread;
And the pale augurs, muttering low,
Gaze on the blasted head.

XLVII.

On Astur's throat Horatius

Right firmly pressed his heel,

And thrice and four times tugged amain
Ere he wrenched out the steel.

'And see,' he cried, the welcome,
Fair guests, that waits you here!
What noble Lucumo comes next
To taste our Roman cheer?'

XLVIII.

But at his haughty challenge
A sullen murmur ran,

Mingled of wrath and shame and dread,
Along that glittering van.

380

390

400