men, he declared, that their flight would avail them nothing if they deserted their post; if they crossed the bridge and left it behind them, there would soon be greater numbers of the enemy in the Palatium and Capitol than in the Janiculum; therefore he advised and charged them to break down the bridge, by sword, by fire, or by any violent means whatsoever; that he himself would receive the attack of the enemy as far as resistance could be offered by the person of one man.  He then strode to the front entrance of the bridge, and being easily distinguished among those whose backs were seen as they gave way before the battle, he struck the enemy with amazement by his surprising boldness as he faced round in arms to engage the foe hand to hand.  Two, however, a sense of shame kept back with him, Spurius Larcius and Titus Herminius, both men of high birth, and renowned for their gallant exploits.  With them he for a short time stood the first storm of danger, and the severest brunt of the battle.  Afterward, as those who were cutting down the bridge called upon them to retire, and only a small portion of it was left, he obliged them also to withdraw to a place of safety.  Then, casting his stern eyes threateningly upon all the nobles of the Etruscans, he now challenged them singly, now reproached them all as the slaves of haughty tyrants, who, unmindful of their own freedom, came to attack that of others.  For a considerable time they hesitated, looking round one upon another, waiting to begin the fight.  A feeling of shame then stirred the army, and raising a shout, they hurled their weapons from all sides on their single adversary; and when they had all stuck in the shield he held before him, and he with no less obstinacy kept possession of the bridge with firm step, they now began to strive to thrust him down from it by their united attack, when the crash of the falling bridge, and at the same time the shout raised by the Romans for joy at having completed their task, checked their assault with sudden consternation.  Then Cocles said, “Father Tiberinus, holy one, I pray thee, receive these arms, and this thy soldier, in thy favouring stream.”  So, in full armour, just as he was, he leapedinto the Tiber, and, amid showers of darts that fell upon him, swam across unharmed to his comrades, having dared a deed which is likely to obtain more fame than belief with posterity.[12] The state showed itself grateful toward such distinguished valour; a statue of him was erected in the comitium, and as much land was given to him as he could draw a furrow round in one day with a plough.  The zeal of private individuals also was conspicuous in the midst of public honours.  For, notwithstanding the great scarcity, each person contributed something to him in proportion to his private means, depriving himself of his own means of support.