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.
