The treaty being concluded, the twin-brothers, as had been agreed,
took arms. While their respective friends exhorted each party,
reminding them that their country's gods, their country and parents,
all their fellow-citizens both at home and in the army, had their eyes
then fixed on their arms, on their hands, being both naturally brave,
and animated by the shouts and exhortations of their friends, they
advanced into the midst between the two lines. The two armies on both
sides had taken their seats in front of their respective camps, free
rather from danger for the moment than from anxiety: for sovereign
power was at stake, dependent on the valour and fortune of so few.
Accordingly, therefore, on the tip-toe of expectation, their attention
was eagerly fixed on a spectacle far from pleasing. The signal was
given: and the three youths on each side, as if in battle array,
rushed to the charge with arms presented, bearing in their breasts the
spirit of mighty armies. Neither the one nor the other heeded their
personal danger, but the public dominion or slavery was present to
their mind, and the thought that the fortune of their country would be
such hereafter as they themselves should have made it. Directly their
arms clashed at the first encounter, and their glittering swords
flashed, a mighty horror thrilled the spectators; and, as hope
inclined to neither side, voice and breath alike were numbed. Then
having engaged hand to hand, when now not only the movements of their
bodies, and the indecisive brandishings of their arms and weapons, but
wounds also and blood were seen, two of the Romans fell lifeless, one
upon the other, the three Albans being wounded. And when the Alban
army had raised a shout of joy at their fall, hope had entirely by
this time, not however anxiety, deserted the Roman legions, breathless
with apprehension at the dangerous position of this one man, whom the
three Curiatii had surrounded. He happened to be unhurt, so that,