Journeys Through Bookland, Volume 6 | Page 7

nor dovecote
In Crustumerium stands.
Verbenna
down to Ostia[5-11]
Hath wasted all the plain;
Astur hath stormed
Janiculum,[5-12]
And the stout guards are slain.
Iwis,[5-13] in all the Senate,
There was no heart so bold,
But sore it
ached, and fast it beat,
When that ill news was told.
Forthwith up
rose the Consul,[5-14]
Uprose the Fathers all;
In haste they girded
up their gowns,
And hied them to the wall.
They held a council standing
Before the River-Gate;
Short time was
there, ye well may guess,
For musing or debate.
Out spake the
Consul roundly:
"The bridge must straight go down;
For since
Janiculum is lost,

Naught else can save the town."
Just then a scout came flying,
All wild with haste and fear;
"To
arms! to arms! Sir Consul:
Lars Porsena is here."
On the low hills to
westward
The Consul fixed his eye,
And saw the swarthy storm of
dust
Rise fast along the sky.

And nearer fast and nearer
Doth the red whirlwind come;
And
louder still and still more loud,
From underneath that rolling cloud,

Is heard the trumpet's war-note proud,
The trampling, and the hum.

And plainly and more plainly
Now through the gloom appears,
Far
to left and far to right,
In broken gleams of dark-blue light,
The
long array of helmets bright,
The long array of spears.
And plainly, and more plainly
Above that glimmering line,
Now
might ye see the banners
Of twelve fair cities shine;
But the banner
of proud Clusium
Was highest of them all,
The terror of the
Umbrian,
The terror of the Gaul.
Fast by the royal standard,
O'erlooking all the war,
Lars Porsena of
Clusium
Sat in his ivory car.
By the right wheel rode Mamilius,

Prince of the Latian name,
And by the left false Sextus,[7-15]
That
wrought the deed of shame.
[Illustration: THE LONG ARRAY OF HELMETS BRIGHT]
But when the face of Sextus
Was seen among the foes,
A yell that
bent the firmament
From all the town arose.
On the house-tops was
no woman
But spat toward 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 looked 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,[8-16]
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 strait
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 Ramnian 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 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[10-17]
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,
Rolled 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,[11-18]
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