For a while no small part of the city was spared, for the leaders of the Gauls said, "It may be that the hearts of them that keep the Citadel will be turned to surrender by the loss of their own homes." These indeed were full of grief and anger, seeing the streets of the city full of the enemy, and beholding new destructions every hour. Never indeed were men besieged in such evil plight, for they were shut out from their country, and saw all their possessions in the power of the enemy. For all this their courage failed not for one hour, though all about them was laid even with the ground by fire and sword, but were obstinate to keep the hill which was now the sole abiding-place of freedom. As for their troubles they took no account of them, nor had any hope save only in the swords which they carried in their hands.
The Gauls having spent their fury on the dwellings in the city, seeing that the spirit of the Romans was in no wise subdued, but was steadfastly set against surrender, resolved to make an assault on the Citadel. Therefore, at dawn of day, after signal had been given, they drew up their whole army in the marketplace; and then, setting up a shout and locking shields over their heads in the fashion that is called the "tortoise," they began to climb the hill. On the other hand the Romans did nothing rashly or in a hurry; but strengthening the guards at every point of attack, set their main body where the Gauls were coming; and these they suffered to climb the slope, judging that the higher they should have mounted the more easily would they be driven down. But when they were come to the middle of the hill, then the Romans ran down upon them, and made a great slaughter among them, driving them over the steep, so that never again, either with a part of their force or with the whole thereof, did they make trial of this manner of fighting. They set themselves, therefore, to take the Citadel by blockade. But for this they had made no preparation, having burned all the provision of food that was in the houses of the city, while that which was in the field had by this time been carried into Veii; wherefore, dividing their forces, they set some to keep watch on the Citadel, and some they sent to gather spoil in the country round about.
Now they that were sent to gather spoil came by chance to Ardea, in which city Camillus dwelt, grieving for his country rather than for himself, and marvelling what had befallen the men who with him had conquered Veii and Falerii. And now, hearing that the Gauls were near at hand, and that the men of Ardea, being in no small fear, were taking counsel about the matter, he came forward in the assembly and spake thus: "Men of Ardea, ye have now opportunity to repay the benefits which ye have received from the Roman people, concerning which benefits, how many and how great they be, there is no need that I remind you. And ye have opportunity also to win for yourselves great renown. These Gauls that are coming against you are great in stature rather than in strength, and make a terrible show in battle, but yet are not hard to withstand. For consider what has befallen Rome, They took the city when all the gates lay open; but now the Citadel, though it is kept by a small company, they are not able to take. Wearied already of besieging it, they are scattering themselves over the face of the land to gather spoil. Their manner is to gorge themselves with meat and great draughts of wine, and at nightfall to throw themselves on the ground like beasts, without defence or outposts or guards. And now by reason of their late victory they are careless even beyond their wont. If then ye would keep your city safe, and would not have this whole land become a part of Gaul, take all of you your arms at the first watch of the night. Follow me, and if I deliver them not in your hands, fast bound with sleep, to be slaughtered as cattle, then banish me even as the Romans banished me."
Now all that heard him knew that there was no man so great in war as he. Therefore, when the assembly was dismissed, they refreshed themselves and waited eagerly till he should give the signal. And when they heard it, they hastened to the gate of the city to meet Camillus; nor had they gone far from the city when they found the camp of Gauls was, as Camillus foretold, altogether without guards; and setting up a shout they fell upon it. No fighting was there, but only a great slaughter, for the men were naked and overpowered with sleep. Some also that were in the furthest part of the camp, being awakened by the uproar, and not knowing what had happened, fell into the hands of the enemy; and many going forth to plunder the lands of the men of Antium fell upon a company of the townsfolk, and were surrounded and slain.
Meanwhile the Gauls watched the Citadel at Rome, that none should go forth between the posts. And now there was done by a Roman youth a thing which both friends and foes greatly admired. The house of the Fabii had a yearly sacrifice on the Hill of Quirinus. A certain Quintus Fabius Dorso, therefore, that he might duly perform this sacrifice, came down from the Capitol, clad in the vestment that is used for such purpose, and carrying the holy things in his hands, and so came to the Hill of Quirinus, passing through the midst of the guards of the enemy, and heeding not their speech or threatening. There he duly performed all the ceremony, and, coming back by the same way, with look and step composed as before, returned to his friends in the Capitol, having a good hope that the gods, whose service he had not neglected for any extremity of fear, looked upon him with favour. As for the Gauls, they did him no harm, either for wonder at his boldness, or for religion's sake, for which indeed this people had no small regard.
Meanwhile they that were at Veii gathered daily both courage and strength, for not only did the Romans that had escaped from the battle or fled from the city assemble themselves there, but volunteers also from Latium flocked thither, hoping to share in the spoil of the enemy. And now it seemed high time that they should deliver their country out of the hand of the Gauls; only, though the body was strong, there yet lacked a head. Then, because the place wherein they were reminded them of Camillus, and because many of the soldiers had had him for their captain in time past, they all agreed that he should be sent for from Ardea. But first they would consult the Senate at Rome, so careful were they of law, not forgetting for all their extremity of peril that which was right to be done. Now there was no small danger in passing through the posts of the enemy. This a certain Cominius, a young man and of great activity, undertook to do; and he, supporting himself on corks, was carried down the Tiber as far as the city. There, climbing the side that was nearest to the river, where the rock was steep, and for that cause left unguarded by the Gauls, he climbed into the Capitol; and then, being brought before the magistrates, delivered to them the message of the army. Then the Senate passed a decree that Camillus, having been first in due form released from exile, should be Dictator, so that the soldiers might have him for captain whom they desired. With this decree the messenger returned to Veii by the same way by which he came, and messengers went to fetch Camillus from Ardea.
While these things were being done at Veii, the Citadel of Rome had been in great peril, for the Gauls either had seen the footmarks where the messenger from Veii had climbed into the Capitol, or had observed for themselves that there was an easy ascent by the rock of Carmentis. On a moonlight night, therefore, having first sent a man unarmed to make trial of the ascent, they set out. Their arms they handed one to the other, and when there was any hindrance in the way they supported or drew up each other, and so climbed to the top, and this so silently that they did not even wake the dogs, though these animals are very watchful for any noise that may take place in the night. But they escaped not the notice of the geese, for there were geese in the Capitol, and these, being sacred to Juno, they had not eaten, though being sorely in need of food. And this regard for holy things was their salvation. For a certain Marcus Manlius, being awoke by their cries and by the flapping of their wings, hasted forth, catching up his arms, and calling all the rest to do likewise. And they indeed were at first in great confusion, but Manlius drave the boss of his shield against a Gaul, for one was now standing on the very top of the hill. And the man fell and overthrew them that stood close at hand; and when the others in great fear dropped their arms and laid hold of the rocks, he fell upon them and slew them. By this time others also had rallied to him, and these, throwing javelins and stones upon the Gauls, beat them down, so that the whole company were overthrown and fell headlong down the steep. The rest of that night they slept, so far as they could for remembrance of the great peril from which they had been delivered; and at dawn all the soldiers were summoned to an assembly by sound of the bugle, it being needful to give due recompense both to that which had been well and that which had been ill done. First Manlius received both praises and gifts for his valour, and this not only from the captains, but from the common consent of the soldiers, every man carrying to his house, which was in the Capitol, half a pound of corn and half a pint of wine, a gift which seems indeed very small in the telling, but yet was a great proof of affection, the great scarcity of all things which prevailed at the time being considered, since all subtracted something from their necessary food to give it to this one man. After this the guards that had been set to watch the place by which the enemy had climbed up the hill were summoned to the assembly. Of these, though Sulpicius, tribune of the soldiers, had affirmed that he would deal with all of them according to military custom, only one was punished, all agreeing to throw the chief blame on him, and he, being beyond all doubt guilty in the matter, was by common consent cast down from the rock. After this the watch was kept more diligently on both sides, for the Gauls knew that messengers had gone to and fro between Veii and Rome, and the Romans remembered from how great a peril they had escaped.
Beyond all other evils of war famine troubled both armies. The Gauls were vexed with pestilence also, having their camp in low ground that lay among hills, and was scorched with the burning of the houses. If there was anything of wind also, this brought with it not dust only but ashes. All these things and the heat of the year the Gauls, who are accustomed to wet and cold, were little able to endure, so that they died, as it were, in herds; so that their fellows, wearied of burying the dead one by one, made great heaps of their carcases and burned them with fire. And now a truce was made with the Romans, and conferences held. In this the Gauls spake much of the famine as being good cause of surrender; whereupon, it is said, the Romans threw loaves of bread among their posts, as if to show them that there was no scarcity among them. Nevertheless their hunger was such that now it could neither be hidden nor endured. Wherefore, while Camillus levied an army at Ardea, the garrison of the Capitol, worn out with watching, and yet able to endure all other ills save hunger only, seeing that the help they looked for came not, and that when the guards went forth to their watch they could scarce for weakness stand up under their arms, were resolute that they should either surrender or ransom themselves on such terms as might be had. And this they did the more readily because the Gauls had made it plain that they might be persuaded by no great sum of money to give up the siege. The Senate, therefore, was called together, and the matter was entrusted to the tribunes of the soldiers. After this a conference was held between Sulpicius and Brennus, king of the Gauls, by whom it was agreed that a thousand pounds' weight of gold should be the ransom of a people that was thereafter to rule the world; a shameful thing, made yet more shameful by insult. For the Gauls bringing false weights which the tribune refused, King Brennus threw his sword into the scale that held the weights, saying at the same time words that no Roman could endure: "Woe to the vanquished!"