But, by the Shades beneath us, and by the Gods abo Add not unto your cruel hate your yet more cruel lo Have ye not graceful ladies, whose spotless lineage s From Consuls, and High Pontiffs, and ancient Alba Ladies, who deign not on our paths to set their tend Who from their cars look down with scorn upon t

street,

Who in Corinthian mirrors their own proud smiles b And breathe of Capuan odours, and shine with Span Then leave the poor Plebeian his single tie to life— The sweet, sweet love of daughter, of sister, and of The gentle speech, the balm for all that his vexed so The kiss, in which he half forgets even such a yoke Still let the maiden's beauty swell the father's breast Still let the bridegroom's arms infold an unpolluted Spare us the inexpiable wrong, the unutterable sham That turns the coward's heart to steel, the sluggard's b

Lest, when our latest hope is fled, ye taste of our despair,

And learn by proof, in some wild hour, how much the wretched

dare."

*

Straightway Virginius led the maid a little space aside,

To where the reeking shambles stood, piled up with horn and hide,
Close to yon low dark archway, where, in a crimson flood,
Leaps down to the great sewer the gurgling stream of blood.
Hard by, a flesher on a block had laid his whittle down:
Virginius caught the whittle up, and hid it in his gown.

And then his eyes grew very dim, and his throat began to swell,
And in a hoarse, changed voice he spake, “Farewell, sweet child!
Farewell!

Oh! how I loved my darling! Though stern I sometimes be,
To thee, thou know'st, I was not so. Who could be so to thee?
And how my darling loved me! How glad she was to hear
My footstep on the threshold when I came back last year!

And how she danced with pleasure to see my civic crown,

And took my sword, and hung it up, and brought me forth my gown!

Now, all those things are over—yes, all thy pretty ways,

Thy needlework, thy prattle, thy snatches of old lays;
And none will grieve when I go forth, or smile when I return,
Or watch beside the old man's bed, or weep upon
his urn.

He little deems that in this hand I clutch what still

Thy gentle youth from taunts and blows, the portion Yea, and from nameless evil, that passeth taunt and Foul outrage which thou know'st not, which thou know.

Then clasp me round the neck once more, and give

kiss;

And now,
mine own dear little girl, there is no way
With that he lifted high the steel, and smote her in t
And in her blood she sank to earth, and with one sob

Then, for a little moment, all people held their bre And through the crowded Forum was stillness as of And in another moment brake forth from one and all A cry as if the Volscians were coming o'er the wall. Some with averted faces shrieking fled home amain ; Some ran to call a leech; and some ran to lift the sla

Some felt her lips and little wrist, if life might there be found; And some tore up their garments fast, and strove to stanch the wound.

In vain they ran, and felt, and stanched; for never truer blow
That good right arm had dealt in fight against a Volscian foe.

When Appius Claudius saw that deed, he shuddered and sank down,

And hid his face some little space with the corner of his gown,
Till, with white lips and bloodshot eyes, Virginius tottered nigh,
And stood before the judgment-seat, and held the knife on high.
"Oh! dwellers in the nether gloom, avengers of the slain,

By this dear blood I cry to you, do right between us twain;
And even as Appius Claudius hath dealt by me and mine,
Deal you by Appius Claudius and all the Claudian line!”
So spake the slayer of his child, and turned, and went his way;
But first he cast one haggard glance to where the body lay,

And writhed, and groaned a fearful groan, and then, with steadfast feet,

Strode right across the market-place unto the Sacred Street.

Then up sprang Appius Claudius: "Stop him; alive or dead! Ten thousand pounds of copper to the man who brings his head." He looked upon his clients; but none would work his will. He looked upon his lictors; but they trembled, and stood still.

Of them that were the nearest and dearest to the slain. They brought a bier, and hung it with many a cypress And gently they uplifted her, and gently laid her dow The face of Appius Claudius wore the Claudian scowl And in the Claudian note he cried, "What doth this Have they no crafts to mind at home, that hitherward Ho! lictors, clear the market-place, and fetch the corp Till then the voice of pity and fury was not loud;

But a deep sullen murmur wandered among the crowd. Like the moaning noise that goes before the whirly deep,

Or the growl of a fierce watch-dog but half aroused fr But when the lictors at that word, tall yeomen all and Each with his axe and sheaf of twigs, went down into Those old men say, who saw that day of sorrow and of That in the Roman Forum was never such a din.

X