"Horatius was one of those old warriors," said Rafael.
"Yes," said Edith, "Horatius, who held back the army of the enemy from crossing the bridge over the River Tiber. I learned a poem about it once."
"The bridge was a wooden one which crossed the river at a spot near here," said the guide. "We will drive around to see the place where it stood."
They soon reached the bend of the river where Horatius called for volunteers to aid him in defending the city.
"Let me hear the story again," said Edith, "right here where he once stood," and Rafael told it with shining eyes.
"Horatius was a brave soldier who had already lost an eye in the service of Rome," he began; "and now he was ready to lose his life if need be. He crossed the bridge with two companions, and called for men to come forward from the ranks of the enemy and fight.
"While they fought, the Roman soldiers were cutting down the bridge behind them. The two companions of Horatius turned and saw that, at last, the bridge was about to fall, so they ran back to safety. But Horatius was so brave that he remained alone, fighting until the bridge crashed down.
"Then there was no way for the enemy to cross the river and enter Rome, so he jumped into the water with all his armor on, and swam safely to the other side, where he was received with great rejoicing." Edith jotted a few words down in her note-book, murmuring as she did so:—
"Still is the story told,
How well Horatius kept the bridge
In the brave days of old."
"Another hero of the days of the republic was Cincinnatus," said Professor Gates. "He was an old soldier who was plowing in his fields when he was called upon to lead a small company of brave men to aid the Roman army, which was surrounded by the enemy and could not fight its way out.