Forthwith uprose the consul,

Uprose the Fathers all;

In haste they girded up their gowns,
And hied them to the wall.

They held a council standing
Before the River-gate;

Short time was there, ye well may guess,

For musing or debate.

Out spoke the consul roundly:

"The bridge must straight go down;

For, since Janiculum is lost,

Naught else can save the town."

Just then a scout came flying,

All wild with haste and fear;

"To arms! to arms! Sir Consul;
Lars Porsena is here."

On the low hills to westward
The consul fix'd his eye,

And saw the swarthy storm of dust
Rise fast along the sky.

And nearer fast and nearer

Doth the red whirlwind come;
And louder still and still more loud,
From underneath that rolling cloud,
Is heard the trumpet's war-note proud,
The trampling, and the hum.
And plainly and more plainly

Now through the gloom appears,
Far to left and far to right,

In broken gleams of dark-blue light,
The long array of helmets bright,
The long array of spears.

Fast by the royal standard,
O'erlooking all the war,
Lars Porsena of Clusium
Sate in his ivory car.

By the right wheel rode Mamilius,
Prince of the Latian name;

And by the left false Sextus,

That wrought the deed of shame.

But the consul's brow was sad

And the consul's speech was low, And darkly look'd he at the wall, And darkly at the foe.

"Their van will be upon us

Before the bridge goes down;

And if they once may win the bridge,

What hope to save the town?

Then out spake brave Horatius.
The captain of the gate:
"To every man upon this earth
Death cometh soon or late.
And how can man die better
Than facing fearful odds,
For the ashes of his fathers,

And the temples of his gods.

"Hew down the bridge, Sir Consul,
With all the speed ye may;
I, with two more to help me,
Will hold the foe in play.
In yon straight path a thousand
May well be stopp'd by three.
Now who will stand on either hand,
And keep the bridge with me?"

Then out spake Spurius Lartius;
A Ramnian proud was he:
Lo, I will stand at thy right hand,
And keep the bridge with thee!"
And out spake strong Herminius;
Of Titian blood was he:

"I will abide on thy left side,

And keep the bridge with thee."

"Horatius," quoth the consul,

"As thou sayest, so let it be." And straight against that great array Forth went the dauntless Three. For Romans in Rome's quarrel Spared neither land nor gold, Nor son nor wife, nor limb nor life, In the brave days of old.

Then none was for a party;

Then all were for the state;

Then the great man help'd the poor,
And the poor man loved the great;
Then lands were fairly portion'd;
Then spoils were fairly sold:
The Romans were like brothers
In the brave days of old.

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 mix'd with commons
Seized hatchet, bar, and crow,
And smote upon the planks above,
And loosed the props below.

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,
Roll'd slowly towards the bridge's head,
Where stood the dauntless Three.

The Three stood calm and silent
And look'd 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.

And meanwhile axe and lever
Have manfully been plied,

And now the bridge hangs tottering

Above the boiling tide.

"Come back, come back, Horatius !" Loud cried the Fathers all.

"Back, Lartius! back, Herminius ! Back, ere the ruin fall !"

Back darted Spurius Lartius;
Herminius darted back:

And, as they pass'd, beneath their feet
They felt the timbers crack.

But when they turn'd their faces,

And on the farther shore

Saw brave Horatius stand alone,

They would have cross'd once more.

But with a crash like thunder

Fell every loosen'd beam,

And, like a dam, the mighty wreck
Lay right athwart the stream:
And a long shout of triumph
Rose from the walls of Rome
As to the highest turret-tops
Was splash'd the yellow foam.

And like a horse unbroken
When first he feels the rein,
The furious river struggled hard,
And toss'd his tawny mane;

And burst the curb and bounded,
Rejoicing to be free;

And whirling down in fierce career,
Battlement, and plank, and pier,
Rush'd headlong to the sea.

Alone stood brave Horatius, But constant still in mind; Thrice thirty thousand foes before, And the broad flood behind. "Down with him!" cried false Sextus, With a smile on his pale face. "Now yield thee," cried Lars Porsena, "Now yield thee to our grace."

Round turn'd he, as not deigning
Those craven ranks to see;
Naught spake he to Lars Porsena,
To Sextus naught spake he;
But he saw on Palatinus

The white porch of his home;
And he spake to the noble river
That rolls by the towers of Rome.

"O Tiber! father Tiber!

To whom the Romans pray,
A Roman's life, a Roman's armis,
Take thou in charge this day!"
So he spake, and speaking sheathed
The good sword by his side,
And, with his harness on his back,
Plunged headlong in the tide.

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 above 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.

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 armour,

And spent with changing blows; And oft they thought him sinking. But still again he rose.

Never, I ween, did swimmer,
In such an evil case,

Struggle through such a raging flood
Safe to the landing place.

But his limbs were borne up bravely
By the brave heart within,

And our good father Tiber

Bare bravely up his chin.

"Curse on him !" quoth false Sextus;
"Will not the villain drown?
But for this stay, ere close of day

We should have sack'd the town !"
"Heaven help him !" quoth Lars Porsena,
"And bring him safe to shore;

For such a gallant feat of arms
Was never seen before.

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.

When the goodman mends his armour,
And trims his helmet's plume;
When the goodwife'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.

A WOMAN NEVER VEXT.-WILLIAM ROWLEY.

The Woman never Vext states her Case to a Divine.

Do. You sent for me, gentlewoman?
Wid. Sir, I did, and to this end.

I have some scruples in my conscience;
Some doubtful problems which I cannot answer,
Nor reconcile; I'd have you make them plain.
Doc. This is my duty; pray speak your mind.
Wid. And as I speak, I must remember heaven
That gave those blessings which must relate;