The city was protected by walls and the River Tiber. There was only one vulnerable point, but a brave man stepped up to defend it. As Livy tells it 2. The bridge of piles almost afforded an entrance to the enemy, had it not been for one man, Horatius Cocles; he was the bulwark of defence on which that day depended the fortune of the City of Rome.
He chanced to be on guard at the bridge when Janiculum was captured by a sudden attack of the enemy. He saw them as they charged down on the run from Janiculum, while his own people behaved like a frightened mob, throwing away their arms and quitting their ranks. Catching hold first of one and then of another, blocking their way and conjuring them to listen, he called on gods and men to witness that if they forsook their post it was vain to flee; once they had left a passage in their rear by the bridge, there would soon be more of the enemy on the Palatine and the Capitol than on Janiculum.
He therefore warned and commanded them to break down the bridge with steel, with fire, with any instrument at their disposal; and promised that he would himself receive the onset of the enemy, so far as it could be withstood by a single body.
When the fighting grew too grim, Horatius told his two companions to save themselves. At this point, little was left of the bridge. They hadn't gotten their army back together yet. The farmers and villagers living outside of Rome saw the advancing army and fled into the city of Rome for protection. One of Rome's best natural defenses was the Tiber River.
If the Romans could get their people across the bridges over the Tiber, then knock down the bridges, they would be safe from Tarquin. The Roman commanding general had forgotten about the bridges while he was getting his army ready to fight the Etruscans.
On their own, Romans knocked down most of the bridges over the Tiber. But one bridge still stood. Tarquin saw the bridge and sent his army rushing towards it. Guarding the bridge were several Roman soldiers. They were too few to stop the Etruscan army, yet all knew if they didn't stop the Etruscans and knock down the bridge, the city of Rome was doomed. This story tells what happened over 2, years ago, the story of Horatius. Go away. Leave our city. Rome threw me out.
They must pay. Rome was taken by surprise. The people who lived in the surrounding countryside fled towards Rome as fast as they could. They poured across the narrow wooden bridge over the Tiber that connected Rome with its farm fields on the other side, seeking refuge in the walled city of Rome.
The Etruscan army was on their heels. Inside the city, the Romans were in such a panic and so disorganized that, once their people were safely inside, they forgot to destroy the bridge, or perhaps it never occurred to them to do so. Led by Tarquin the Proud, who knew his way around Rome pretty well, the Etruscan army headed for narrowest piece of the Tiber, where of course the Romans had built their bridge. Imagine their delight when they discovered that the Romans had left the bridge for them to cross.
They would not have to swim the Tiber to reach Rome. It was disaster. If the Etruscans crossed the bridge, they would take Rome. They were terrified at the thought of facing an entire army. He stood on the bridge and faced the Etruscan army alone.
Six spears' lengths from the entrance halted that deep array, And for a space no man came forth to win the narrow way. But hark! Upon his ample shoulders clangs loud the four-fold shield, And in his hand he shakes the brand which none but he can wield.
He smiled on those bold Romans a smile serene and high; He eyed the flinching Tuscans, and scorn was in his eye.
Quoth he, "The she-wolf's litter stand savagely at bay: But will ye dare to follow, if Astur clears the way? With shield and blade Horatius right deftly turned the blow.
The blow, yet turned, came yet too nigh; It missed his helm, but gashed his thigh: The Tuscans raised a joyful cry to see the red blood flow. He reeled, and on Herminius he leaned one breathing-space; Then, like a wild-cat mad with wounds, sprang right at Astur's face. Through teeth, and skull, and helmet so fierce a thrust he sped, The good sword stood a hand-breadth out behind the Tuscan's head.
And the great Lord of Luna fell at that deadly stroke, As falls on Mount Alvernus a thunder-smited oak. Far o'er the crashing forest the giant arms lay spread; And the pale augurs, muttering low, gaze on the blasted head. On Astur's throat Horatius right firmly pressed his heel, And thrice and four times tugged amain, ere he wrenched out the steel.
What noble Lucumo comes next to taste our Roman cheer? There lacked not men of prowess, nor men of lordly race; For all Etruria's noblest were round the fatal place.
But all Etruria 's noblest felt their hearts sink to see On the earth the bloody corpses; in their path the dauntless Three; And, from the ghastly entrance where those bold Romans stood, All shrank, like boys who unaware, ranging the woods to start a hare, Come to the mouth of a dark lair where, growling low, a fierce old bear Lies amidst bones and blood. Was none who would be foremost to lead such dire attack? But those behind cried "Forward!
Yet one man for one moment strode out before the crowd; Well known was he to all the Three, and they gave him greeting loud.
Now welcome to thy home! Why dost thou stay, and turn away? Here lies the road to Rome. But meanwhile axe and lever have manfully been plied; And now the bridge hangs tottering above the boiling tide.
Back, Herminius! Back, ere the ruin fall! But when they turned their faces, and on the further shore Saw brave Horatius stand alone, they would have crossed once more.
But with a crash like thunder fell every loosened beam, And, like a dam, the mighty wreck lay right athwart the stream: And a loud shout of triumph rose from the walls of Rome, As to the highest turret-tops was splashed the yellow foam.
And, like a horse unbroken, when first he feels the rein, The furious river struggled hard, and tossed his tawny mane, And burst the curb, and bounded, rejoicing to be free, And whirling down, in fierce career, battlement, and plank, and pier Rushed headlong to the sea. Alone stood brave Horatius, but constant still in mind; Thrice thirty thousand foes before, and the broad flood behind. No sound of joy or sorrow was heard from either bank; But friends and foes in dumb surprise, with parted lips and straining eyes, Stood gazing where he sank; And when above the surges they saw his crest appear, All Rome sent forth a rapturous cry, and even the ranks of Tuscany Could scarce forbear to cheer.
But fiercely ran the current, swollen high by months of rain: And fast his blood was flowing; and he was sore in pain, And heavy with his armour, and spent with changing blows: And oft they thought him sinking, but still again he rose. Never, I ween, did swimmer, in such an evil case, Struggle through such a raging flood safe to the landing place: But his limbs were borne up bravely by the brave heart within, And our good father Tiber bare bravely up his chin.
But for this stay, ere close of day, we would have sacked the town! They gave him of the corn-land, that was of public right, As much as two strong oxen could plough from morn till night; And they made a molten image, and set it up on high, And there it stands unto this day to witness if I lie. It stands in the Comitium, plain for all folk to see; Horatius in his harness, halting upon one knee: And underneath is written, in letters all of gold, How valiantly he kept the bridge in the brave days of old.
And still his name sounds stirring unto the men of Rome, As the trumpet-blast that calls to them to charge the Volscian home; And wives still pray to Juno for boys with hearts as bold As his who kept the bridge so well in the brave days of old. And in the nights of winter, when the cold north winds blow, And the long howling of the wolves is heard amidst the snow; When round the lonely cottage roars loud the tempest's din, And the good logs of Algidus roar louder yet within; When the oldest cask is opened, and the largest lamp is lit; When the chestnuts glow in the embers, and the kid turns on the spit; When young and old in circle around the firebrands close; When the girls are weaving baskets and the lads are shaping bows When the goodman mends his armour, and trims his helmet's plume, And the goodwife's shuttle merrily goes flashing through the loom; With weeping and with laughter still is the story told, How well Horatius kept the bridge in the brave days of old.
Actively scan device characteristics for identification. Use precise geolocation data. Select personalised content. Create a personalised content profile. Measure ad performance. Select basic ads. Create a personalised ads profile. Select personalised ads. Apply market research to generate audience insights.
0コメント