His loins girt up to run with speed, be the errand what it may, Just then, as through one cloudless chink in a black stormy sky Home she went bounding from the school, nor dreamed of shame or harm With bright, frank brow that had not learned to blush at gaze of man; She warbled gayly to herself lines of the good old song, And Appius heard her sweet young voice, and saw her sweet young face, And all along the Forum, and up the Sacred Street, His vulture eye pursued the trip of those small glancing feet. Over the Alban mountains the light of morning broke; From all the roofs of the Seven Hills curled the thin wreaths of smoke: The city gates were opened; the Forum, all alive, With buyers and with sellers was humming like a hive. Blithely on brass and timber the craftsman's stroke was ringing, And blithely o'er her panniers the market-girl was singing, And blithely young Virginia came smiling from her home: Ah! wo for young Virginia, the sweetest maid in Rome! With her small tablets in her hand, and her satchel on her arm, All came in wrath and wonder; for all knew that fair child; The caitiff reeled three paces back, and let the maiden go. Yet glared he fiercely round him, and growled in harsh, fell tone, She is my slave, born in my house, and stolen away and sold, Let him who works the client wrong, beware the patron's ire!" So spake the varlet Marcus; and dread and silence came Which makes the rich man tremble, and guards the poor man's right But all the city, in great fear, obeyed the wicked Ten. Who clung tight to Muræna's skirt, and sobbed, and shrieked for aid, Forth through the throng of gazers the young Icilius pressed, Poured thick and fast the burning words which tyrants quake to hear "Now, by your children's cradles, now, by your father's graves, Be men to-day, Quirites, or be forever slaves! For this did Servius give us laws? For this did Lucrece bleed! We strove for honours-'twas in vain: for freedom-'tis no more. No crier to the polling, summons the eager throng; No Tribune breathes the word of might that guards the weak from wrong Our very hearts, that were so high, sink down beneath your will. Riches, and lands, and power, and state-ye have them :-keep them still Still keep the holy fillets; still keep the purple gown, The axes, and the curule chair, the car, and laurel crown: Still press us for your cohorts, and, when the fight is done, Still fill your garners from the soil which our good swords have won Still, like a spreading ulcer, which leech-craft may not cure, Let your foul usance eat away the substance of the poor Still let your haggard debtors bear all their fathers bore; No fire when Tiber freezes; no air in dog-star heat; And store of rods for freeborn backs, and holes for freeborn feet. That turns the coward's heart to steel, the sluggard's blood to flame. And learn by proof, in some wild hour, how much the wretched dare.* Straightway Virginius led the maid a little space aside, To where the reeking shambles stood, piled up with horn and hide, Virginius caught the whittle up, and hid it in his gown. And then his eyes grew very dim, and his throat began to swell, And in a hoarse, changed voice he spake, "Farewell, sweet child! Farewell Oh! how I loved my darling! Though stern I sometimes be, To thee, thou know'st, I was not so. Who could be so to thee? And how my darling loved me! How glad she was to hear And none will grieve when I go forth, or smile when I return, He little deems that in this hand I clutch what still can save Then, for a little moment, all people held their breath; Some ran to call a leech; and some ran to lift the slain : Some felt her lips and little wrist, if life might there be found; And some tore up their garments fast, and strove to stanch the wound. When Appius Claudius saw that deed, he shuddered and sank down, And hid his face some little space with the corner of his gown, Till, with white lips and bloodshot eyes, Virginius tottered nigh, And stood before the judgment-seat, and held the knife on high. "Oh! dwellers in the nether gloom, avengers of the slain, By this dear blood I cry to you, do right between us twain; And even as Appius Claudius hath dealt by me and mine, Deal you by Appius Claudius and all the Claudian line!" So spake the slayer of his child, and turned, and went his way; But first he cast one haggard glance to where the body lay, And writhed, and groaned a fearful groan; and then, with steadfast fee Then up sprang Appius Claudius: "Stop him; alive or dead! And he hath passed in safety unto his woful home, And there ta'en horse to tell the camp what deeds are done in Rome By this the flood of people was swollen from every side, And streets and porches round were filled with that o'erflowing tide And close around the body gathered a little train Of them that were the nearest and dearest to the slain. They brought a bier, and hung it with many a cypress crown, And gently they uplifted her, and gently laid her down. Like the moaning noise that goes before the whirlwind on the deep, The wailing, hooting, cursing, the howls of grief and hate, Of them that were the nearest and dearest to the slain, No cries were there, but teeth set fast, low whispers, and black frowns, "Twas well the lictors might not pierce to where the maiden lay, Then Appius Claudius gnawed his lip, and the blood left his cheek; "See, see, thou dog! what thou hast done; and hide thy shame in hell! A Cossus, like a wild cat, springs ever at the face; A Fabius rushes like a boar against the shouting chase; But the vile Claudian litter, raging with currish spite, Still yelps and snaps at those who run, still runs from those who smite. So now 'twas seen of Appius. When stones began to fly, He shook, and crouched, and wrung his hands, and smote upon his thigh "Kind clients, honest lictors, stand by me in this fray! Must I be torn in pieces? Home, home the nearest way!" While yet he spake, and looked around with a bewildered stare, Four sturdy lictors put their necks beneath the curule chair; And the great Thunder-Cape has donned his veil of inky gloom. Now, like a drunken man's, hung down, and swayed from side to side; THE PROPHECY OF CAPYS. Ir can hardly be necessary to remind any reader that, according to the popular tradition, Romulus, after he had slain his grand-uncle Amulius, and restored his grandfather Numitor, determined to quit Alba, the hereditary domain of the Sylvian princes, and to found a new city. The gods, it was added, vouchsafed the clearest signs of the favour with which they regarded the enterprise, and of the high destinies reserved for the young colony. This event was likely to be a favourite theme of the old Latin minstrels. They would naturally attribute the project of Romulus to some divine intimation of the power and prosperity which it was decreed that his city should attain. They would probably introduce seers foretelling the victories of unborn Consuls and Dictators, and the last great victory would generally occupy the most conspicuous place in the prediction. There is nothing strange in the supposition that the poet who was employed to celebrate the first great triumph of the Romans over the Greeks might throw his song of exultation into this form. rhus, King of Epirus, came to their help witn a large army; and, for the first time, the two great nations of antiquity were fairly matched against each other. The fame of Greece in arms, as well as in arts, was then at the height. Half a century earlier, the career of Alexander had excited the admiration and terror of all nations from the Ganges to the Pillars of Hercules. Royal houses, founded by Macedonian captains, still reigned at Antioch and Alexandria. That barbarian warriors, led by barbarian chiefs, should win a pitched battle against Greek valour guided by Greek science, seemed as incredible as it would now seem that the Burmese or the Siamese should, in the open plain, put to flight an equal number of the best English troops. The Tarentines were convinced that their countrymen were irresistible in war; and this conviction had emboldened them to treat with the grossest indignity one whom they regarded as the representative of an inferior race. Of the Greek generals then living, Pyrrhus was indisputably the first. Among the troops who The occasion was one likely to excite the were trained in the Greek discipline, his Epistrongest feelings of national pride. A great rotes ranked high. His expedition to Italy was outrage had been followed by a great retribu- a turning-point in the history of the world. He tion. Seven years before this time, Lucius Pos- found there a people who, far inferior to the thumius Megellus, who sprang from one of the Athenians and Corinthians in the fine arts, in noblest houses of Rome, and had been thrice the speculative sciences, and in all the refineConsul, was sent ambassador to Tarentum, with ments of life, were the best soldiers on the face charge to demand reparation for grievous in- of the earth. Their arms, their gradations of juries. The Tarentines gave him audience in rank, their order of battle, their method of intheir theatre, where he addressed them in such trenchment, were all of Latian origin, and had Greek as he could command, which, we may all been gradually brought near to perfection, well believe, was not exactly such as Cineas not by the study of foreign models, but by the would have spoken. An exquisite sense of the genius and experience of many generations ridiculous belonged to the Greek character; of great native commanders. The first words and closely connected with this facuity was a which broke from the king, when his practised strong propensity to flippancy and imperti- eye had surveyed the Roman encampment, nence. When Posthumius placed an accent were full of meaning:-"These barbarians," wrong, his hearers burst into a laugh. When he he said, "have nothing barbarous in their mili remonstrated, they hooted him, and called him tary arrangements." He was at first victoribarbarian; and at length hissed him off the ous; for his own talents were superior to stage as if he had been a bad actor. As the those of the captains who were opposed to grave Roman retired, a buffoon, who, from his him, and the Romans were not prepared for the constant drunkenness, was nicknamed the Pint-onset of the elephants of the East, which were pot, came up with gestures of the grossest in- then for the first time seen in Italy-moving decency, and bespattered the senatorial gown mountains, with long snakes for hands. But with filth. Posthumius turned round to the the victories of the Epirotes were fiercely dismultitude and held up the gown, as if appeal-puted, dearly purchased, and altogether unpro ing to the universal law of nations. The sight only increased the insolence of the Tarentines. They clapped their hands, and set up a shout of laughter which shook the theatre. "Men of Tarentum," said Posthumius, "it will take not a little blood to wash this gown."* Rome, in consequence of this insult, declared war against the Tarentines. The Tarentines sought for allies beyond the Ionian sea. Pyr Dion. Hal. De Legationibus. fitable. At length Manius Curius Dentatus, who had in his first consulship won two triumphs, was again placed at the head of the Roman Commonwealth, and sent to encounter the invaders. A great battle was fought near Beneventum. Pyrrhus was completely defeated. He repassed the sea; and the world learned with amazement that a people had been dis * Anguimanus is the old Latin epithet for an elephant Lucretius, ii. 538, v. 1302. |