[The battle begins. False Sextus flees from Herminius, one of the defenders of the bridge. Aebutius slays Tubero, but is severely wounded by Mamilius of Tusculum, and retires from the fight.]

XIV

Now on each side the leaders
Gave signal for the charge;
And on each side the footmen 255
Strode on with lance and targe;[38]
And on each side the horsemen
Struck their spurs deep in gore;
And front to front, the armies
Met with a mighty roar: 260
And under that great battle
The earth with blood was red;
And, like the Pomptine[39] fog at morn,
The dust hung overhead;
And louder still and louder 265
Rose from the darkened field
The braying of the war-horns,
The clang of sword and shield,
The rush of squadrons sweeping
Like whirlwinds o'er the plain,
The shouting of the slayers, 270
And screeching of the slain.

XV

False Sextus rode out foremost:
His look was high and bold;
His corslet was of bison's hide, 275
Plated with steel and gold.
As glares the famished eagle
From the Digentian rock[40]
On a choice lamb that bounds alone
Before Bandusia's[41] flock, 280
Herminius glared on Sextus,
And came with eagle speed,
Herminius on black Auster,[42]
Brave champion on brave steed;
In his right hand the broadsword 285
That kept the bridge so well,
And on his helm the crown[43] he won
When proud Fidenae fell.
Woe to the maid whose lover
Shall cross his path to-day! 290
False Sextus saw, and trembled,
And turned, and fled away.
As turns, as flies, the woodman
In the Calabrian[44] brake,
When through the reeds gleams the round eye 295
Of that fell speckled snake;
So turned, so fled, false Sextus,
And hid him in the rear,
Behind the dark Lavinian ranks,
Bristling with crest and spear. 300

XVI

But far to north Aebutius,
The Master of the Knights,
Gave Tubero of Norba
To feed the Porcian kites.
Next under those red horse-hoofs 305
Flaccus of Setia lay;
Better had he been pruning
Among his elms[45] that day.
Mamilius saw the slaughter,
And tossed his golden crest, 310
And towards the Master of the Knights
Through the thick battle pressed.
Aebutias smote Mamilius
So fiercely, on the shield
That the great lord of Tusculum 315
Well nigh rolled on the field.
Mamilius smote Aebutius,
With a good aim and true,
Just where the neck and shoulder join,
And pierced him through and through; 320
And brave Aebutius Elva
Fell swooning to the ground:
But a thick wall of bucklers
Encompassed him around.
His clients[46] from the battle 325
Bare him some little space,
And filled a helm from the dark lake,
And bathed his brow and face;
And when at last he opened
His swimming eyes to light, 330
Men say, the earliest word he spake
Was, "Friends, how goes the fight?"

[The struggle in the centre, where the ancient Tarquin is struck down. The Latins fight over him as he lies, and Titus kills Valerius, round whose body the struggle waxes hot.]

XVII

But meanwhile in the centre
Great deeds of arms were wrought;
There Aulus the Dictator 335
And there Valerius fought.
Aulus with his good broadsword
A bloody passage cleared
To where, amidst the thickest foes,
He saw the long white beard. 340
Flat lighted that good broadsword
Upon proud Tarquin's head.
He dropped the lance: he dropped the reins:
He fell as fall the dead.
Down Aulus springs to slay him, 345
With eyes like coals of fire;
But faster Titus[47] hath sprung down,
And hath bestrode his sire.
Latian captains, Roman knights,
Fast down to earth they spring, 350
And hand to hand they fight on foot
Around the ancient king.
First Titus gave tall Caeso
A death wound in the face;
Tall Caeso was the bravest man 355
Of the brave Fabian[48] race:
Aulus slew Rex of Gabii,
The priest of Juno's shrine:
Valerius smote down Julius,
Of Rome's great Julian line;[49] 360
Julius, who left his mansion
High on the Velian hill,[50]
And through all turns of weal and woe
Followed proud Tarquin still.
Now right across proud Tarquin 365
A corpse was Julius laid;
And Titus groaned with rage and grief,
And at Valerius made.
Valerius struck at Titus,
And lopped off half his crest; 370
But Titus stabbed Valerius
A span deep in the breast.
Like a mast snapped by the tempest,
Valerius reeled and fell.
Ah! woe is me for the good house 375
That loves the people well!
Then shouted loud the Latines;
And with one rush they bore
The struggling Romans backward
Three lances' length and more: 380
And up they took proud Tarquin,
And laid him on a shield,
And four strong yeoman bare him,
Still senseless from the field.