And side by side those chiefs of pride

Together fell down dead.

Down fell they dead together

In a great lake of gore;

And still stood all who saw them fall

Fast, fast, with heels wild spurning,

The dark-gray charger fled;

He burst through ranks of fighting men

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.

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

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

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 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.

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,

With pats and fond caresses,

The young Herminia washed and combed,
And twined in even tresses,

And decked with colored ribands

From her own gay attire,

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,
And ran at him amain.

"The furies of thy brother

With me and mine abide,

If one of your accursed house

Upon black Auster ride!"

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,

In a wide arch and tall,

As spouts a fountain in the court
Of some rich Capuan's hall.

The knees of all the Latines

Were loosened with dismay,

When dead, on dead Herminius,

The bravest Tarquin lay.

XXXI.

And Aulus the Dictator

Stroked Auster's raven mane,

With heed he looked unto the girths,

With heed unto the rein.

"Now bear me well, black Auster,

Into yon thick array;

And thou and I will have revenge

For thy good lord this day."