XXXIII.

    Now Roman is to Roman
      More hateful than a foe;
    And the Tribunes beard the high,
      And the Fathers grind the low. 
    As we wax hot in faction,
      In battle we wax cold;
    Wherefore men fight not as they fought
      In the brave days of old.

    XXXIV.

    Now while the Three were tightening
      Their harness on their backs,
    The Consul was the foremost man
      To take in hand an axe;
    And Fathers mixed with Commons
      Seized hatchet, bar, and crow,
    And smote upon the planks above,
      And loosed the props below.

    XXXV.

    Meanwhile the Tuscan army,
      Right glorious to behold,
    Came flashing back the noonday light,
    Rank behind rank, like surges bright
      Of a broad sea of gold. 
    Four hundred trumpets sounded
      A peal of warlike glee,
    As that great host, with measured tread,
    And spears advanced, and ensigns spread,
    Rolled slowly toward the bridge’s head,
      Where stood the dauntless Three.

    XXXVI.

    The Three stood calm and silent
      And looked upon the foes,
    And a great shout of laughter
      From all the vanguard rose;
    And forth three chiefs came spurring
      Before that deep array: 
    To earth they sprang, their swords they drew,
    And lifted high their shields, and flew
      To win the narrow way.

    XXXVII.

    Aunus from green Tifernum,
      Lord of the Hill of Vines;
    And Seius, whose eight hundred slaves
      Sicken in Ilva’s mines;
    And Picus, long to Clusium
      Vassal in peace and war,
    Who led to fight his Umbrian powers
    From that gray crag where, girt with towers,
    The fortress of Nequinum lowers
      O’er the pale waves of Nar.

    XXXVIII.

    Stout Lartius hurled down Aunus
      Into the stream beneath;
    Herminius struck at Seius,
      And clove him to the teeth;
    At Picus brave Horatius
      Darted one fiery thrust,
    And the proud Umbrian’s gilded arms
      Clashed in the bloody dust.

    XXXIX.

    Then Ocnus of Falerii
      Rushed on the Roman Three;
    And Lausulus of Urgo,
      The rover of the sea;
    And Aruns of Volsinium,
      Who slew the great wild boar,
    The great wild boar that had his den
    Amidst the reeds of Cosa’s fen,
    And wasted fields and slaughtered men
      Along Albinia’s shore.

    XL.

    Herminius smote down Aruns;
      Lartius laid Ocnus low;
    Right to the heart of Lausulus
      Horatius sent a blow. 
    “Lie there,” he cried, “fell pirate! 
      No more, aghast and pale,
    From Ostia’s walls the crowd shall mark
    The track of thy destroying bark. 
    No more Campania’s hinds shall fly
    To woods and caverns when they spy
      Thy thrice accursed sail.”