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Then out spake Spurius Lartius,
Of Titian blood was he:
"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.
32. 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.
33, Now Roman is to Roman
More hateful than a foe,
In battle we wax cold;
No,w, while the Three were tightening
From Ostia's walls the crowd shail mark
But now no sound of laughter
Was heard amongst the foes. A wild and wrathful clamour
From all the vanguard rose. Six spears' lengths from the entrance Halted that mighty mass, And for a space no man came forth To win the narrow pass.
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 Va Clangs loud the fourfold shield, And in his hand he shakes the brand Which none but he can wield.
He smiled on those bold Romans
44. 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.
He reeled, and on Herminius
He leaned one breathing-space;
Through teeth, and skull, and helmet,
46. 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.
47. fin Astur's throat Horatius Right firmly ussed his heel,
Back darted Spurius Lartius;
And, as they passed, beneath their feet
But with a crash like thunder
Rose from the walls of Rome,
And like a horse unbroken
When first he feels the rein, The furious river struggled hard,
And tossed his tawny mane; And burst the curb, and bounded, Rejoicing to be free; And whirling down, in fierce career, Battlement, and plank, and pier, Rushed headlong to the sea.
Alone stood brave Horatius,
"Down with him!" cried false Sextus,
But fiercely ran the current,
And spent with changing blows:
Never, I ween, did swimmer,
But his limbs were borne up bravely
Yet through good heart and our lady's grace, At length he gained the landing-place.
Lay of the Last Minstrel, 1.
Ard still his name sounds stirring
As the trumpet blast that cries to them
For boys with hearts as bold
And in the nights of winter,
When the cold north winds blow, And the long howling of the wolves
Is heard amidst the snow; When round the lonely cottage
Roars loud the tempest's din, And the good logs of Algidus Roar louder yet within;
When the oldest cask is opened,
Around the firebrands close;
When the goodman mends his armour,
How well Horatius kept the bridge