By the right wheel rode Mamilius, Prince of the Latian name;
And by the left false Sextus,
That wrought the deed of shame.
But when the face of Sextus Was seen among the foes, A yell that rent the firmament From all the town arose. On the house-tops was no woman But spat towards him and hissed, No child but screamed out curses, And shook its little fist.
But the Consul's brow was sad, And the Consul's speech was low, And darkly look'd he at the wall, And darkly at the foe. "Their van will be upon us
Before the bridge goes down; And if they once may win the bridge, What hope to save the town?"
Then out spake brave Horatius, The Captain of the Gate: "To every man upon this earth Death cometh soon or late. And how can man die better
Than facing fearful odds,
For the ashes of his fathers
And the temples of his Gods?
"And for the tender mother Who dandled him to rest, And for the wife who nurses His baby at her breast, And for the holy maidens
Who feed the eternal flame,
To save them from false Sextus That wrought the deed of shame!
"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 straight path a thousand May well be stopped by three. Now, who will stand on either hand, And keep the bridge with me?"
Then out spake Spurius Lartius; A Rhamnian proud was he: "Lo! I will stand at thy right hand, And keep the bridge with thee." And out spake strong Herminius, Of Titian blood was he :
"I will abide on thy left side,
And keep the bridge with thee."
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.
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.
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.
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.
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, Roll'd slowly towards the bridge's head, Where stood the dauntless Three.
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;
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.
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.
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 slaughter'd men, Along Albinia's shore.
Herminius smote down Aruns:
Lartius laid Ocnus low:
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