XXIX.

"Hew down the bridge, Sir Consul, With all the speed ye may; I, with two more to help me, Will hold the foe in play.

In yon strait path a thousand May well be stopped by three.

Now who will stand on either hand, And keep the bridge with me?"

x.x.x.

Then out spake Spurius Lartius, A Ramnian proud was he: "Lo, I will stand at thy right hand And keep the bridge with thee."

And out spake strong Herminius, Of t.i.tian blood was he: "I will abide on thy left side, And keep the bridge with thee."

x.x.xI.

"Horatius," quoth the Consul, "As thou sayest, so let it be."

And straight against that great array Forth went the dauntless Three.

For Romans in Rome's quarrel Spared neither land nor gold, Nor son nor wife, nor limb nor life, In the brave days of old.

x.x.xII.

Then none was for a party; Then all were for the State; Then the great man helped the poor, And the poor man loved the great; Then lands were fairly portioned; Then spoils were fairly sold; The Romans were like brothers In the brave days of old.

x.x.xIII.

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.

x.x.xIV.

Now while the Three were tightening Their harness on their backs, The Consul was the foremost man To take in hand an axe; And Fathers mixed with Commons Seized hatchet, bar, and crow, And smote upon the planks above, And loosed the props below.

x.x.xV.

Meanwhile the Tuscan army, Right glorious to behold, Came 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 toward the bridge's head, Where stood the dauntless Three.

x.x.xVI.

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.

x.x.xVII.

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 Va.s.sal 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.

x.x.xVIII.

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 b.l.o.o.d.y dust.

x.x.xIX.

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 sh.o.r.e.

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 sail."

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 s.p.a.ce no man came forth To win the narrow way.

XLII.

But hark! the cry is Astur; And lo! the ranks divide, And the great Lord of Luna Comes with his stately stride.

Upon his ample shoulders Clangs loud the fourfold shield, And in his hand he shakes the brand Which none but he can wield.

XLIII.

He smiled on those bold Romans A smile serene and high; He eyed the flinching Tuscans, And scorn was in his eye.

Quoth he, "The she-wolf's litter Stand savagely at bay; But will ye dare to follow, If Astur clears the way?"

XLIV.

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; 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-s.p.a.ce, 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 wait you here!

What n.o.ble Luc.u.mo 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.

There lacked not men of prowess, Nor men of lordly race; For all Etruria's n.o.blest Were round the fatal place.