Thrice thirty thousand foes before,
And the broad flood behind.
"Down with him!" cried false Sextus, 480
With a smile on his pale face.
"Now yield thee," cried Lars Porsena,
"Now yield thee to our grace."


LVIII

Round turned he, as not deigning
Those craven ranks to see; 485
Nought spake he to Lars Porsena,
To Sextus nought spake he;
But he saw on Palatinus[58]
The white porch of his home;
And he spake to the noble river 490
That rolls by the towers of Rome.


LIX

"Oh, Tiber! father Tiber!
To whom the Romans pray,
A Roman's life, a Roman's arms,
Take thou in charge this day." 495
So he spake, and speaking sheathed
The good sword by his side,
And with his harness on his back,
Plunged headlong in the tide.