Chapter XIII

But in the centre thickest
Were ranged the shields of foes, 230
And from the centre loudest
The cry of battle rose.
There Tibur[35] marched and Pedum
Beneath proud Tarquin's rule,
And Ferentinum of the rock, 235
And Gabii of the pool.
There rode the Volscian succours:
There, in a dark stern ring,
The Roman exiles gathered close,
Around the ancient king. 240
Though white as Mount Soracte,[36]
When winter nights are long,
His beard flowed down o'er mail and belt,
His heart and hand were strong:
Under his hoary eyebrows 245
Still flashed forth quenchless rage,
And, if the lance shook in his gripe,
'Twas more with hate than age.
Close at his side was Titus
On an Apulian[37] steed, 250
Titus, the youngest Tarquin,
Too good for such a breed.

[_The battle begins. False Sextus flees from Herminius, one of the defenders of the bridge. Aebutius slays Tubero, but is severely wounded by Mamilius of Tusculum, and retires from the fight_.]