And the Roman had, at the same time, stuck the sharp iron spike in the centre of his convex shield, deep into the naked right arm of the king's son: the blood spurted out. He recoiled several steps from the weight of the blow, nearly stumbling over the stone slabs.
The furious enemy, well armed both for defence and offence, now stepped victoriously into the entrance, pushing aside with his foot the two halves of the shield, that his adversary should not draw out the spears.
With a keen look the Roman measured his adversary, who now drew his last weapon, the short-handled battle-axe, from his girdle, and raised it to strike. The towering stature of the young German must have seemed fearful to the Roman, in spite of the superiority of his arms.
"Why should we tear each other to pieces, barbarian? Why dost thou protect this house so grimly? I will not contest it with thee; I will leave it to thee as soon as I have taken out one single thing."
"What thing? something belonging to thee? Thou art not the master of the house."
"I will leave thee the house. I come only for--a woman."
"Thy wife? Felicitas? No! she is not thine"
Furiously the other cried: "What? Thou art already so intimate in the house! But neither is Felicitas thy wife; and shall not become so. Felicitas shall be mine!"
"Never!" cried Liuthari, and he sprang forward and dashed his stone battle-axe against the magnificent bronze helmet, so that it split asunder where the plume was attached, and fell in pieces from the head of the wearer.
But alas! that head remained uninjured, while the axe, descending with such force on the metal, broke off at the handle. For a moment the Tribune stood as if stupefied by the blow. But he saw immediately how his opponent, now quite defenceless, did not turn his face for flight, but still stood before him.