But meanwhile in the centre Great deeds of arms were wrought¹； There Aulus the Dictator And there Valerius fought. Aulus with his good broadsword A bloody² passage cleared To where, amidst the thickest foes³, He saw the long white beard. Flat lighted that good broadsword Upon proud Tarquin's head. He dropped the lance： he dropped the reins⁴： He fell as fall the dead. Down Aulus springs to slay⁵ him, With eyes like coals of fire； But faster Titus hath sprung down, And hath bestrode his sire. Latian captains, Roman knights⁶, Fast down to earth they spring, And hand to hand they fight on foot Around the ancient king. First Titus gave tall C o A death wound in the face； Tall C o was the bravest man Of the brave Fabian race： Aulus slew⁷ Rex of Gabii, The priest of Juno's shrine⁸； Valerius smote⁹ down Julius, Of Rome's great Julian line； Julius, who left his mansion¹⁰, High on the Velian hill, And through all turns of weal and woe¹¹ Followed proud Tarquin still. Now right across proud Tarquin A corpse¹² was Julius laid； And Titus groaned¹³ with rage and grief, And at Valerius made.

    Valerius struck at Titus, And lopped off half his crest¹⁴； But Titus stabbed Valerius A span deep in the breast. Like a mast snapped by the tempest, Valerius reeled and fell. Ah！ woe is me for the good house That loves the people well！ Then shouted loud the Latines； And with one rush they bore The struggling Romans backward Three lances' length and more： And up they took proud Tarquin, And laid him on a shield, And four strong yeomen bare him, Still senseless, from the field.