5. 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 mighty mass;

To earth they sprang, their swords they drew,
And lifted high their shields, and flew

To win the narrow pass.

But the scorn and laughter of the Etruscans were soon changed to wrath and curses, for their chiefs were quickly 'laid low in the dust at the feet of the "dauntless three."

6. But now no sound of laughter
Was heard among the foes.
A wild and wrathful clamor
From all the vanguard rose.
Six spears' length from the entrance
Halted that mighty mass,

And for a space no man came forth
To win the narrow pass.

7. But hark! the cry is Astur:
And lo! the ranks divide,
And the great Lord of Luna

Comes with his stately stride.

Upon his ample shoulders

Clangs loud the fourfold shield,

And in his hand he shakes the brand

Which none but he can wield.

The proud Astur advances with a smile of contempt for the three Romans, and turns a look of scorn upon the flinching Tuscans.

8. Then, whirling up his broadsword

With both hands to the height,

He rushed against Horatius,

And smote with all his might.

With shield and blade Horatius

Right deftly turned the blow.

The blow, though turned, came yet too nigh;

It missed his helm, but gashed his thigh:

The Tuscans raised a joyful cry

To see the red blood flow.

9. He reeled, and on Herminius

He leaned one breathing-space;

Then, like a wild-cat mad with wounds,
Sprang right at Astur's face.

Through teeth, and skull, and helmet,
So fierce a thrust he sped,

The good sword stood a handbreadth out
Behind the Tuscan's head.

10. And the great Lord of Luna
Fell at that deadly stroke,
As falls on Mount Alvernus
A thunder-smitten oak.
Far o'er the crashing forest
The giant arms lie spread;

And the pale augurs, muttering low,

Gaze on the blasted head.

In the mean time the axes had been busily plied; and while the bridge was tottering to its fall, Lartius and Herminius regained the opposite bank in safety. Horatius remained facing the foe until the last timber had fallen, when, weighed down with armor as he was, he "plunged headlong in the tide." 11. No sound of joy or sorrow

Was heard from either bank;

But friends and foes, in dumb surprise,
With parted lips and straining eyes,
Stood gazing where he sank:
And when beneath the surges
They saw his crest appear,

All Rome sent forth a rapturous cry,
And even the ranks of Tuscany
Could scarce forbear to cheer.

12. But fiercely ran the current,
Swollen high by months of rain:
And fast his blood was flowing;
And he was sore in pain,
And heavy with his armor,
And spent with changing blows:
And oft they thought him sinking,
But still again he rose.

13. "Curse on him!" quoth false Sextus,
"Will not the villain drown?

But for this stay, ere close of day

We should have sacked the town!"
"Heaven help him!" quoth Lars Porsenna,
"And bring him safe to shore;

For such a gallant feat of arms

Was never seen before."

14. And now he feels the bottom;
Now on dry earth he stands;
Now round him throng the fathers,
To press his gory hands;

And now with shouts and clapping,
And noise of weeping loud,

He enters through the river-gate,

Borne by the joyous crowd.

Then follows an account of the rewards which a grateful people bestowed upon the hero. The minstrel thus concludes the legend:

15. When the good man mends his armor,
And trims his helmet's plume;
When the good wife's shuttle merrily
Goes flashing through the loom;
With weeping and with laughter
Still is the story told,

How well Horatius kept the bridge

In the brave days of old.—MACAULAY.

LESSON XIV.—PATRICIAN AND PLEBEIAN CONTESTS. 1. DURING several hundred years after the overthrow of royalty, the history of the Roman republic is filled with accounts of the fierce civil contests which raged between the patrician aristocracy and the common people or plebeians, relieved by an occasional episode of a war with some of the surrounding people. At first, the patricians were the wealthy and ruling class; they held all the high military commands; they made the laws; and they reduced the plebeians to a condition differing little from the most abject slavery.

2. At length, in the year 493 B.C., after an open rupture between these two classes, and the withdrawal of the plebeians from the city, a reconciliation was effected, and magistrates, called tribunes, were allowed to be chosen by the people to watch over their rights, and prevent abuses of authority. About forty-five years later, however, ten persons, called decem'virs, who were appointed to compile a body of laws for the commonwealth, having managed to get the powers of the government into their own hands, ruled in the most tyrannical manner, and oppressed the plebeians worse than ever.

3. But an unexpected event-a private injury-accomplished what wrongs of a more public nature had failed to effect. The wicked Appius Claudius, a leading decemvir, had formed the design of securing the person of the beautiful Virginia, daughter of Virginius; but, finding her betrothed to another, in order to accomplish his purpose he procured a base dependent to claim her as his slave. As had been concerted, Virginia was brought before the tribunal of Appius himself, who ordered her to be surrendered to the claimant. It was then that the distracted father, having no other means of saving his daughter, stabbed her to the heart in the presence of the court and the assembled people. The people arose in their might; the power of the "wicked ten" was overthrown; and Appius, having been impeached, died in prison, probably by his own hand.

4. About eighty years after the death of Virginia, the plebeians succeeded, after a struggle of five years against every species of fraud and violence (especially on the part of Claudius Crassus, grandson of the infamous Appius Claudius), in obtaining a full acknowledgment of their rights, and all possible legal guarantees for their preservation. It is during this struggle that a popular poet (as Macaulay supposes), a zealous adherent of the tribunes, makes his appearance in the public market-place, and announces that he has a new song that will cut the Claudian family to the heart. He takes his stand on the spot where, according to tradition, Virginia, more than seventy years ago, was seized by the base dependent of Appius, and thus relates the story:

LESSON XV. THE STORY OF VIRGINIA.

1. YE good men of the commons, with loving hearts and true,
Who stand by the bold tribunes that still have stood by you,
Come, make a circle round me, and mark my tale with care-
A tale of what Rome once hath borne, of what Rome yet may bear.
This is no Grecian fable, of fountains running wine,

Of maids with snaky tresses, or sailors turned to swine.
Here, in this very forum, under the noonday sun,

In sight of all the people, the bloody deed was done.

Old men still creep among us who saw that fearful day,

Just seventy years and seven ago, when the wicked ten bare sway.

2. Of all the wicked ten, still the names are held accursed,
And of all the wicked ten, Appius Claudius was the worst.
He stalked along the forum like King Tarquin in his pride;
Twelve axes waited on him, six marching on a side;

The townsmen shrank to right and left, and eyed askance with fear
His lowering brow, his curling mouth, which always seemed to sneer:
That brow of hate, that mouth of scorn, marks all the kindred still,
For never was there Claudius yet but wished the commons ill.
Nor lacks he fit attendance; for close behind his heels,
With outstretched chin and crouching pace, the client Marcus steals,
His loins girt up to run with speed, be the errand what it may,
And the smile flickering on his cheek, for aught his lord may say.
Where'er ye shed the honey, the buzzing flies will crowd;
Where'er ye fling the carrion, the raven's croak is loud;
Where'er down Tiber garbage floats, the greedy pike ye see;
And wheresoe'er such lord is found, such client still will be.

3. Then follows an account of the seizing of Virginia by Marcus as she was passing through the market-place, of the commotion among the people that was occasioned by it, and of the spirited but vain appeal which the young Icilius, the lover of Virginia, made to the people to rise and free them

After a mock in

selves from the power of their oppressors. vestigation, held by Appius in the Roman forum, or open market-place, a few days later, the tyrant was on the point of taking possession of the maiden, when her father, who had in the mean time come from the army to protect his child, begged permission to take leave of her, and speak a few words to her in private.

4. Straightway Virginius led the maid a little space aside,

To where the reeking shambles stood, piled up with horn and hide,
Close to yon low dark archway, where, in a crimson flood,
Leaps down to the great sewer the gurgling stream of blood.
Hard by, a flesher on a block had laid his whittle down:
Virginius caught the whittle up, and hid it in his gown.

And then his eyes grew very dim, and his throat began to swell,
And in a hoarse, changed voice, he spake, "Farewell, sweet child!
farewell!

5. Oh! how I loved my darling! Though stern I sometimes be,
To thee, thou know'st, I was not so. Who could be so to thee?
And how my darling loved me! How glad she was to hear
My footstep on the threshold when I came back last year!
And how she danced with pleasure to see my civic crown,

And took my sword, and hung it up, and brought me forth my gown!
Now, all those things are over-yes, all thy pretty ways,
Thy needle-work, thy prattle, thy snatches of old lays;

And none will grieve when I go forth, or smile when I return,
Or watch beside the old man's bed, or weep upon his urn.
6. The house that was the happiest within the Roman walls,
The house that envied not the wealth of Capua's marble halls,
Now, for the brightness of thy smile, must have eternal gloom,
And for the music of thy voice, the silence of the tomb.
The time is come. See how he points his eager hand this way!
See how his eyes gloat on thy grief, like a kite's upon the prey!
With all his wit, he little deems that, spurned, betrayed, bereft,
Thy father hath in his despair one fearful refuge left.

He little deems that in this hand I clutch what still can save
Thy gentle youth from taunts and blows, the portion of the slave;
Yea, and from nameless evil, that passeth taunt and blow-
Foul outrage which thou knowest not, which thou shalt never know.
Then clasp me round the neck once more, and give me one more kiss ;
And now, my own dear little girl, there is no way but this.'

With that he lifted high the steel, and smote her in the side,
And in her blood she sank to earth, and with one sob she died.

7. Then, for a little moment, all people held their breath,
And through the crowded forum was stillness as of death;
And in another moment brake forth from one and all
A cry as if the Volscians were coming o'er the wall.
Till, with white lips and bloodshot eyes, Virginius tottered nigh,
And stood before the judgment-seat, and held the knife on high,
"Oh, dwellers in the nether gloom, avengers of the slain,
By this dear blood I cry to you, do right between us twain ;