Through head-piece and through head;
And side by side those chiefs of pride
Together fell down dead.
Down fell they dead together
In a great lake of gore; 510
And still stood all who saw them fall
While men might count a score.
[Mamilius’ charger dashes off to Tusculum, Black Auster remains by his master’s body. Titus attempts to mount him, but is slain by Aulus the Dictator.]
XXIX
Fast, fast, with heels wild spurning,
The dark-grey charger fled:
He burst through ranks of fighting men;
515
He sprang o’er heaps
of dead.
His bridle far out-streaming,
His flanks all blood and foam,
He sought the southern mountains,
The mountains of his home.
520
The pass was steep and rugged,
The wolves they howled and
whined;
But he ran like a whirlwind up the pass,
And he left the wolves behind.
Through many a startled hamlet
525
Thundered his flying feet;
He rushed through the gate of Tusculum,
He rushed up the long white
street;
He rushed by tower and temple,
And paused not from his race
530
Till he stood before his master’s
door
In the stately market-place.
And straightway round him gathered
A pale and trembling crowd,
And when they knew him, cries of rage
535
Brake forth, and wailing loud:
And women rent their tresses
For their great prince’s
fall;
And old men girt on their old swords,
And went to man the wall.
540
XXX
But, like a graven image,
Black Auster kept his place,
And ever wistfully he looked
Into his master’s face.
The raven-mane that daily,
545
With pats and fond caresses,
The young Herminia washed and combed,
And twined in even tresses,
And decked with coloured ribands
From her own gay attire,
550
Hung sadly o’er her father’s
corpse
In carnage and in mire.
Forth with a shout sprang Titus,
And seized Black Auster’s
rein.
Then Aulus sware a fearful oath,
555
And ran at him amain.
“The furies of thy brother[53]
With me and mine abide,
If one of your accursed house
Upon black Auster ride!”
560
As on an Alpine watch-tower
From heaven comes down the
flame,
Full on the neck of Titus
The blade of Aulus came:
And out the red blood spouted,
565
In a wide arch and tall,
As spouts a fountain in the court
Of some rich Capuan’s[54]
hall.
The knees of all the Latines
Were loosened with dismay
570
When dead, on dead Herminius,
The bravest Tarquin lay.