TITUS LIVIUS'

HISTORY OF ROME

BOOK I

THE PERIOD OF THE KINGS

 

TO begin with, it is generally admitted that, after the taking of Troy, while all the other Trojans were treated with severity, in the case of two, Aeneas and Antenor, the Greeks forbore to exercise the full rights of war, both on account of an ancient tie of hospitality, and because they had persistently recommended peace and the restoration of Helen: and then Antenor, after various vicissitudes, reached the inmost bay of the Adriatic Sea, accompanied by a body of the Eneti, who had been driven from Paphlagonia by civil disturbance, and were in search both of a place of settlement and a leader, their chief Pylaemenes having perished at Troy; and that the Eneti and Trojans, having driven out the Euganei, who dwelt between the sea and the Alps, occupied these districts. In fact, the place where they first landed is called Troy, and from this it is named the Trojan canton. The nation as a whole is called Veneti. It is also agreed that Aeneas, an exile from home owing to a like misfortune, but conducted by the fates to the founding of a greater empire, came first to Macedonia, that he was then driven ashore at Sicily in his quest for a settlement, and sailing thence directed his course to the territory of Laurentum. This spot also bears the name of Troy. When the Trojans, having disembarked there, were driving off booty from the country, as was only natural, seeing that they had nothing left but their arms and ships after their almost boundless wandering, Latinus the king and the Aborigines, who then occupied these districts, assembled in arms from the city and country to repel the violence of the newcomers. In regard to what followed there is a twofold tradition. Some say that Latinus, having been defeated in battle, first made peace and then concluded an alliance with Aeneas; others, that when the armies had taken up their position in order of battle, before the trumpets sounded, Latinus advanced to the front, and invited the leader of the strangers to a conference. He then inquired what manner of men they were, whence they had come, for what reasons they had left their home, and in quest of what they had landed on Laurentine territory. After he heard that the host were Trojans, their chief Aeneas, the son of Anchises and Venus, and that, exiled from home, their country having been destroyed by fire, they were seeking a settlement and a site for building a city, struck with admiration both at the noble character of the nation and the hero, and at their spirit, ready alike for peace or war, he ratified the pledge of future friendship by clasping hands. Thereupon a treaty was concluded between the chiefs, and mutual greetings passed between the armies: Aeneas was hospitably entertained at the house of Latinus; there Latinus, in the presence of his house­hold gods, cemented the public league by a family one, by giving Aeneas his daughter in marriage. This event fully confirmed the Trojans in the hope of at length terminating their wanderings by a lasting and permanent settlement. They built a town, which Aeneas called Lavinium after the name of his wife. Shortly afterward also, a son was the issue of the recently concluded marriage, to whom his parents gave the name of Ascanius.

Aborigines and Trojans were soon afterward the joint objects of a hostile attack. Turnus, king of the Rutulians, to whom Lavinia had been affianced before the arrival of Aeneas, indignant that a stranger had been preferred to himself, had made war on Aeneas and Latinus together. Neither army came out of the struggle with satisfaction. The Rutulians were vanquished: the victorious Aborigines and Trojans lost their leader Latinus. Thereupon Turnus and the Rutulians, mistrustful of their strength, had recourse to the prosperous and powerful Etruscans, and their king Mezentius, whose seat of government was at Caere, at that time a flourishing town. Even from the outset he had viewed with dissatisfaction the founding of a new city, and, as at that time he considered that the Trojan power was increasing far more than was altogether consistent with the safety of the neighbouring peoples, he readily joined his forces in alliance with the Rutulians. Aeneas, to gain the good-will of the Aborigines in face of a war so serious and alarming, and in order that they might all be not only under the same laws but might also bear the same name, called both nations Latins. In fact, subsequently, the Aborigines were not behind the Trojans in zeal and loyalty toward their king Aeneas. Accordingly, in full reliance on this state of mind of the two nations, who were daily becoming more and more united, and in spite of the fact that Etruria was so powerful, that at this time it had filled with the fame of its renown not only the land but the sea also, throughout the whole length of Italy from the Alps to the Sicilian Strait, Aeneas led out his forces into the field, although he might have repelled their attack by means of his fortifications. Thereupon a battle was fought, in which victory rested with the Latins, but for Aeneas it was even the last of his acts on earth. He, by whatever name laws human and divine demand he should be called, was buried on the banks of the river Numicus: they call him Jupiter Indiges.

Ascanius, the son of Aeneas, was not yet old enough to rule; the government, however, remained unassailed for him till he reached the age of maturity. In the interim, under the regency of a woman—so great was Lavinia’s capacity—the Latin state and the boy’s kingdom, inherited from his father and grandfather, was secured for him. I will not discuss the question—for who can state as certain a matter of such antiquity?—whether it was this Ascanius, or one older than he, born of Creusa, before the fall of Troy, and subsequently the companion of his father’s flight, the same whom, under the name of Iulus, the Julian family represents to be the founder of its name. Be that as it may, this Ascanius, wherever born and of whatever mother—it is at any rate agreed that his father was Aeneas—seeing that Lavinium was over-populated, left that city, now a flourishing and wealthy one, considering those times, to his mother or stepmother, and built himself a new one at the foot of the Alban mount, which, from its situation, being built all along the ridge of a hill, was called Alba Longa.

There was an interval of about thirty years between the founding of Lavinium and the transplanting of the colony to Alba Longa. Yet its power had increased to such a degree, especially owing to the defeat of the Etruscans, that not even on the death of Aeneas, nor subsequently between the period of the regency of Lavinia, and the first beginnings of the young prince’s reign, did either Mezentius, the Etruscans, or any other neighbouring peoples venture to take up arms against it. Peace had been concluded on the following terms, that the river Albula, which is now called Tiber, should be the boundary of Latin and Etruscan territory. After him Silvius, son of Ascanius, born by some accident in the woods, became king. He was the father of Aeneas Silvius, who afterward begot Latinus Silvius. By him several colonies were transplanted, which were called Prisci Latini. From this time all the princes, who ruled at Alba, bore the surname of Silvius. From Latinus sprung Alba; from Alba, Atys; from Atys, Capys; from Capys, Capetus; from Capetus, Tiberinus, who, having been drowned while crossing the river Albula, gave it the name by which it was generally known among those of later times. He was succeeded by Agrippa, son of Tiberinus; after Agrippa, Romulus Silvius, having received the government from his father, became king. He was killed by a thunderbolt, and handed on the kingdom to Aventinus, who, owing to his being buried on that hill, which now forms part of the city of Rome, gave it its name. After him reigned Proca, who begot Numitor and Amulius. To Numitor, who was the eldest son, he bequeathed the ancient kingdom of the Silvian family. Force, however, prevailed more than a father’s wish or the respect due to seniority. Amulius drove out his brother and seized the kingdom: he added crime to crime, murdered his brother’s male issue, and, under pretence of doing honour to his brother’s daughter, Rea Silvia, having chosen her a Vestal Virgin, deprived her of all hopes of issue by the obligation of perpetual virginity.

My opinion, however, is that the origin of so great a city and an empire next in power to that of the gods was due to the fates. The Vestal Rea was ravished by force, and having brought forth twins, declared Mars to be the father of her illegitimate offspring, either because she really imagined it to be the case, or because it was less discreditable to have committed such an offence with a god. But neither gods nor men protected either her or her offspring from the king’s cruelty. The priestess was bound and cast into prison; the king ordered the children to be thrown into the flowing river. By some chance which Providence seemed to direct, the Tiber, having overflown its banks, thereby forming stagnant pools, could not be approached at the regular course of its channel; notwithstanding it gave the bearers of the children hope that they could be drowned in its water however calm. Accordingly, as if they had executed the king’s orders, they exposed the boys in the nearest land-pool, where now stands the ficus Ruminalis, which they say was called Romulans. At that time the country in those parts was a desolate wilderness. The story goes, that when the shallow water, subsiding, had left the floating trough, in which the children had been exposed, on dry ground, a thirsty she-wolf from the mountains around directed her course toward the cries of the infants, and held down her teats to them with such gentleness, that the keeper of the king’s herd found her licking the boys with her tongue. They say that his name was Faustulus; and that they were carried by him to his homestead and given to his wife Larentia to be brought up. Some are of the opinion that Larentia was called Lupa among the shepherds from her being a common prostitute; and hence an opening was afforded for the marvellous story. The children, thus born and thus brought up, as soon as they reached the age of youth, did not lead a life of inactivity at home or amid the flocks, but, in the chase, scoured the forests. Having thus gained strength, both in body and spirit, they now were not only able to withstand wild beasts, but attacked robbers laden with booty, and divided the spoils with the shepherds, in whose company, as the number of their young associates increased daily, they carried on business and pleasure.

Even in these early times it is said that the festival of the Lupercal, as now celebrated, was solemnized on the Palatine Hill, which was first called Pallantium, from Pallanteum, a city of Arcadia, and afterward Mount Palatius. There Evander, who, belonging to the above tribe of the Arcadians, had for many years before occupied these districts, is said to have appointed the observance of a solemn festival, introduced from Arcadia, in which naked youths ran about doing honour in wanton sport to Pan Lycaeus, who was afterward called Inuus by the Romans. When they were engaged in this festival, as its periodical solemnization was well known, a band of robbers, enraged at the loss of some booty, lay in wait for them, and took Remus prisoner, Romulus having vigorously defended himself: the captive Remus they delivered up to King Amulius, and even went so far as to bring accusations against him. They made it the principal charge that having made incursions into Numitor’s lands, and, having assembled a band of young men, they had driven off their booty after the manner of enemies. Accordingly, Remus was delivered up to Numitor for punishment. Now from the very first Faustulus had entertained hopes that the boys who were be­ing brought up by him, were of royal blood: for he both knew that the children had been exposed by the king’s orders, and that the time, at which he had taken them up, coincided exactly with that period: but he had been unwilling to disclose the matter, as yet not ripe for discovery, till either a fitting opportunity or the necessity for it should arise. Necessity came first. Accordingly, urged by fear, he disclosed the whole affair to Romulus. By accident also, Numitor, while he had Remus in custody, having heard that the brothers were twins, by comparing their age and their natural disposition entirely free from servility, felt his mind struck by the recollection of his grandchildren, and by frequent inquiries came to the conclusion he had already formed, so that he was not far from openly acknowledging Remus. Accordingly a plot was concerted against the king on all sides. Romulus, not accompanied by a body of young men—for he was not equal to open violence—but having commanded the shepherds to come to the palace by different roads at a fixed time, made an attack upon the king, while Remus, having got together another party from Numitor’s house, came to his assistance; and so they slew the king.

Numitor, at the beginning of the fray, giving out that enemies had invaded the city and attacked the palace, after he had drawn off the Alban youth to the citadel to secure it with an armed garrison, when he saw the young men, after they had compassed the king’s death, advancing toward him to offer congratulations, immediately summoned a meeting of the people, and recounted his brother’s unnatural behaviour toward him, the extraction of his grandchildren, the manner of their birth, bringing up, and recognition, and went on to inform them of the king’s death, and that he was responsible for it. The young princes advanced through the midst of the assembly with their band in orderly array, and, after they had saluted their grandfather as king, a succeeding shout of approbation, issuing from the whole multitude, ratified for him the name and authority of sovereign. The government of Alba being thus intrusted to Numitor, Romulus and Remus were seized with the desire of building a city on the spot where they had been exposed and brought up. Indeed, the number of Alban and Latin inhabitants was too great for the city; the shepherds also were included among that population, and all these readily inspired hopes that Alba and Lavinium would be insignificant in comparison with that city, which was intended to be built. But desire of rule, the bane of their grandfather, interrupted these designs, and thence arose a shameful quarrel from a sufficiently amicable beginning. For as they were twins, and consequently the respect for seniority could not settle the point, they agreed to leave it to the gods, under whose protection the place was, to choose by augury which of them should give a name to the new city, and govern it when built. Romulus chose the Palatine and Remus the Aventine, as points of observation for taking the auguries.

It is said that an omen came to Remus first, six vultures; and when, after the omen had been declared, twice that number presented themselves to Romulus, each was hailed king by his own party, the former claiming sovereign power on the ground of priority of time, the latter on account of the number of birds. Thereupon, having met and exchanged angry words, from the strife of angry feelings they turned to bloodshed: there Remus fell from a blow received in the crowd. A more common account is that Remus, in derision of his brother, leaped over the newly-erected walls, and was thereupon slain by Romulus in a fit of passion, who, mocking him, added words to this effect: “ So perish every one hereafter, who shall leap over my walls.” Thus Romulus obtained pos­session of supreme power for himself alone. The city, when built, was called after the name of its founder. He first proceeded to fortify the Palatine Hill, on which he himself had been brought up. He offered sacrifices to Hercules, according to the Grecian rite, as they had been instituted by Evander; to the other gods, according to the Alban rite. There is a tradition that Hercules, having slain Geryon, drove off his oxen, which were of surpassing beauty, to that spot: and that he lay down in a grassy spot on the banks of the river Tiber, where he had swam across, driving the cattle before him, to refresh them with rest and luxuriant pasture, being also himself fatigued with journeying. There, when sleep had overpowered him, heavy as he was with food and wine, a shepherd who dwelt in the neighbourhood, by name Cacus, priding himself on his strength, and charmed with the beauty of the cattle, desired to carry them off as booty; but because, if he had driven the herd in front of him to the cave, their tracks must have conducted their owner thither in his search, he dragged the most beautiful of them by their tails backward into a cave. Hercules, aroused from sleep at dawn, having looked over his herd and observed that some of their number were missing, went straight to the nearest cave, to see whether perchance their tracks led thither. When he saw that they were all turned away from it and led in no other direction, troubled and not knowing what to make up his mind to do, he commenced to drive off his herd from so dangerous a spot. Thereupon some of the cows that were driven away, lowed, as they usually do, when they missed those that were left; and the lowings of those that were shut in being heard in answer from the cave, caused Hercules to turn round. And when Cacus attempted to prevent him by force as he was advancing toward the cave, he was struck with a club and slain, while vainly calling upon the shepherds to assist him. At that time Evander, who was an exile from the Peloponnesus, governed the country more by his personal ascendency than by absolute sway. He was a man held in reverence on account of the wonderful art of writing, an entirely new discovery to men ignorant of accomplishments, and still more revered on account of the supposed divinity of his mother Carmenta, whom those peoples had marvelled at as a prophetess before the arrival of the Sybil in Italy. This Evander, roused by the assembling of the shepherds as they hastily crowded round the stranger, who was charged with open murder, after he heard an account of the deed and the cause of it, gazing upon the personal appearance and mien of the hero, considerably more dignified and majestic than that of a man, asked who he was. As soon as he heard the name of the hero, and that of his father and native country, “ Hail! ” said he, “ Hercules, son of Jupiter! my mother, truthful interpreter of the will of the gods, has declared to me that thou art destined to increase the number of the heavenly beings, and that on this spot an altar shall be dedicated to thee, which in after ages a people most mighty on earth shall call Greatest, and honour in accordance with rites instituted by thee.” Hercules, having given him his right hand, declared that he accepted the prophetic intimation, and would fulfil the predictions of the fates, by building and dedicating an altar. Thereon then for the first time sacrifice was offered to Hercules with a choice heifer taken from the herd, the Potitii and Pinarii, the most distinguished families who then inhabited those parts, being invited to serve at the feast. It so happened that the Potitii presented themselves in due time, and the entrails were set before them: but the Pinarii did not arrive until the entrails had been eaten up, to share the remainder of the feast. From that time it became a settled institution, that, as long as the Pinarian family existed, they should not eat of the entrails of the sacrificial victims. The Potitii, fully instructed by Evander, discharged the duties of chief priests of this sacred function for many generations, until their whole race became extinct, in consequence of this office, the solemn prerogative of their family, being delegated to public slaves. These were the only religious rites that Romulus at that time adopted from those of foreign countries, being even then an advocate of immortality won by merit, to which the destiny marked out for him was conducting him.

The duties of religion having been thus duly completed, the people were summoned to a public meeting: and, as they could not be united and incorporated into one body by any other means save legal ordinances, Romulus gave them a code of laws: and, judging that these would only be respected by a nation of rustics, if he dignified himself with the insignia of royalty, he clothed himself with greater majesty—above all, by taking twelve lictors to attend him, but also in regard to his other appointments. Some are of opinion that he was influenced in his choice of that number by that of the birds which had foretold that sovereign power should be his when the auguries were taken. I myself am not indisposed to follow the opinion of those, who are inclined to believe that it was from the neighbouring Etruscans—from whom the curule chair and purple-bordered toga were borrowed—that the apparitors of this class, as well as the- number itself, were introduced : and that the Etruscans employed such a number because, as their king was elected from twelve states in common, each state assigned him one lictor.

In the meantime, the city was enlarged by taking in various plots of ground for the erection of buildings, while they built rather in the hope of an increased population in the future, than in view of the actual number of the inhabitants of the city at that time. Next, that the size of the city might not be without efficiency, in order to increase the population, following the ancient policy of founders of cities, who, by bringing together to their side a mean and ignoble multitude, were in the habit of falsely asserting that an offspring was born to them from the earth, he opened as a sanctuary the place which, now inclosed, is known as the “ two groves,” and which people come upon when descending from the Capitol. Thither, a crowd of all classes from the neighbouring peoples, without distinction, whether freemen or slaves, eager for change, flocked for refuge, and therein lay the foundation of the city’s strength, corresponding to the commencement of its enlargement. Having now no reason to be dissatisfied with his strength, he next instituted a standing council to direct that strength. He created one hundred senators, either because that number was sufficient, or because there were only one hundred who could be so elected. Anyhow they were called fathers by way of respect, and their descendants patricians.

By this time the Roman state was so powerful, that it was a match for any of the neighbouring states in war: but owing to the scarcity of women its greatness was not likely to outlast the existing generation, seeing that the Romans had no hope of issue at home, and they did not intermarry with their neighbours. So then, by the advice of the senators, Romulus sent around ambassadors to the neighbouring states, to solicit an alliance and the right of intermarriage for his new subjects, saying, that cities, like everything else, rose from the humblest beginnings: next, that those which the gods and their own merits assisted, gained for themselves great power and high renown: that he knew full well that the gods had aided the first beginnings of Rome and that merit on their part would not be wanting: therefore, as men, let them not be reluctant to mix their blood and stock with men. The embassy nowhere obtained a favourable hearing: but, although the neighbouring peoples treated it with such contempt, yet at the same time they dreaded the growth of such a mighty power in their midst to the danger of themselves and of their posterity. In most cases when they were dismissed they were asked the question, whether they had opened a sanctuary for women also: for that in that way only could they obtain suitable matches. The Roman youths were bitterly indignant at this, and the matter began unmistakeably to point to open violence. Romulus, in order to provide a fitting opportunity and place for this, dissembling his resentment, with this purpose in view, instituted games to be solemnized every year in honour of Neptunus Equester, which he called Consualia. He then ordered the show to be proclaimed among the neighbouring peoples; and the Romans prepared to solemnize it with all the pomp with which they were then acquainted or were able to exhibit, in order to make the spectacle famous, and an object of expectation. Great numbers assembled, being also desirous of seeing the new city, especially all the nearest peoples, the Caeninenses, Crustumini, and Antemnates: the entire Sabine population attended with their wives and children. They were hospitably invited to the different houses: and, when they saw the position of the city, its fortified walls, and how crowded with houses it was, they were astonished that the power of Rome had increased so rapidly. When the time of the show arrived, and their eyes and minds alike were intent upon it, then, according to preconcerted arrangement, a disturbance was made, and, at a given signal, the Roman youths rushed in different directions to carry off the unmarried women. A great number were carried off at haphazard, by those into whose hands they severally fell: some of the common people, to whom the task had been assigned, conveyed to their homes certain women of surpassing beauty, who were destined for the leading senators. They say that one, far distinguished beyond the rest in form and beauty, was carried off by the party of a certain Talassius, and that, when several people wanted to know to whom they were carrying her, a cry was raised from time to time, to prevent her being molested, that she was being carried to Talassius: and that from this the word was used in connection with marriages. The festival being disturbed by the alarm thus caused, the sorrowing parents of the maidens retired, complaining of the violated compact of hospitality, and invoking the god, to whose solemn festival and games they had come, having been deceived by the pretence of religion and good faith. Nor did the maidens entertain better hopes for themselves, or feel less indignation. Romulus, however, went about in person and pointed out that what had happened was due to the pride of their fathers, in that they had refused the privilege of intermarriage to their neighbours; but that, notwithstanding, they would be lawfully wedded, and enjoy a share of all their possessions and civil rights, and—a thing dearer than all else to the human race—the society of their common children: only let them calm their angry feelings, and bestow their affections on those on whom fortune had bestowed their bodies. Esteem (said he) often arose subsequent to wrong: and they would find them better husbands for the reason that each of them would endeavour, to the utmost of his power, after having discharged, as far as his part was concerned, the duty of a husband, to quiet the longing for country and parents. To this the blandishments of the husbands were added, who excused what had been done on the plea of passion and love, a form of entreaty that works most successfully upon the feelings of women.

By this time the minds of the maidens were considerably soothed, but their parents, especially by putting on the garb of mourning, and by their tears and complaints, stirred up the neighbouring states. Nor did they confine their feelings of indignation to their own home only, but they flocked from all quarters to Titus Tatius, king of the Sabines, and embassies crowded thither, because the name of Tatius was held in the greatest esteem in those quarters. The Caeninenses, Crustumini, and Antemnates were the people who were chiefly affected by the outrage. As Tatius and the Sabines appeared to them to be acting in too dilatory a manner, these three peoples by mutual agreement among themselves made preparations for war unaided. However, not even the Crustumini and Antemnates bestirred themselves with sufficient activity to satisfy the hot-headedness and anger of the Caeninenses: accordingly the people of Caenina, unaided, themselves attacked the Roman territory. But Romulus with his army met them while they were ravaging the country in straggling parties, and in a trifling engagement convinced them that anger unaccompanied by strength is fruitless. He routed their army and put it to flight, followed in pursuit of it when routed, cut down their king in battle and stripped him of his armour, and, having slain the enemy’s leader, took the city at the first assault. Then, having led back his victorious army, being a man both distinguished for his achievements, and one equally skilful at putting them in the most favourable light, he ascended the Capitol, carrying suspended on a portable frame, cleverly contrived for that purpose, the spoils of the enemy’s general, whom he had slain: there, having laid them down at the foot of an oak held sacred by the shepherds, at the same time that he presented the offering, he marked out the boundaries for a temple of Jupiter, and bestowed a surname on the god. “ Jupiter Feretrius,” said he, “ I, King Romulus, victorious over my foes, offer to thee these royal arms, and dedicate to thee a temple within those quarters, which I have just now marked out in my mind, to be a resting-place for the spolia opima, which posterity, following my example, shall bring hither on slaying the kings or generals of the enemy.” This is the origin of that temple, the first that was ever consecrated at Rome. It was afterward the will of the gods, that neither the utterances of the founder of the temple, in which he solemnly declared that his posterity would bring such spoils thither, should be spoken in vain, and that the honour of the offering should not be rendered common owing to the number of those who enjoyed it. In the course of so many years and so many wars the spolia opima were only twice gained: so rare has been the successful attainment of this honour.

While the Romans were thus engaged in those parts, the army of the Antemnates made a hostile attack upon the Roman territories, seizing the opportunity when they were left unguarded. Against these in like manner a Roman legion was led out in haste and surprised them while straggling in the country. Thus the enemy were routed at the first shout and charge: their town was taken: Romulus, amid his rejoicings at this double victory, was entreated by his wife Hersilia, in consequence of the importunities of the captured women, to pardon their fathers and admit them to the privileges of citizenship; that the commonwealth could thus be knit together by reconciliation. The request was readily granted. After that he set out against the Crustumini, who were begin­ning hostilities: in their case, as their courage had been damped by the disasters of others, the struggle was less keen. Colonies were sent to both places: more, however, were found to give in their names for Crustuminum, because of the fertility of the soil. Great numbers also migrated from thence to Rome, chiefly of the parents and relatives of the women who had been carried off.

The last war broke out on the part of the Sabines, and this was by far the most formidable: for nothing was done under the influence of anger or covetousness, nor did they give indications of hostilities before they had actually begun them. Cunning also was combined with prudence. Spurius Tarpeius was in command of the Roman citadel: his maiden daughter, who at the time had gone by chance outside the walls to fetch water for sacrifice, was bribed by Tatius, to admit some armed soldiers into the citadel. After they were admitted, they crushed her to death by heaping their arms upon her: either that the citadel might rather appear to have been taken by storm, or for the sake of setting forth a warning, that faith should never on any occasion be kept with a betrayer. The following addition is made to the story: that, as the Sabines usually wore golden bracelets of great weight on their left arm and rings of great beauty set with precious stones, she bargained with them for what they had on their left hands; and that therefore shields were heaped upon her instead of presents of gold. Some say that, in accordance with the agreement that they should deliver up what was on their left hands, she expressly demanded their shields, and that, as she seemed to be acting treacherously, she herself was slain by the reward she had chosen for herself.

Be that as it may, the Sabines held the citadel, and on the next day, when the Roman army, drawn up in order of battle, had occupied all the valley between the Palatine and Capito- line Hills, they did not descend from thence into the plain until the Romans, stimulated by resentment and the desire of recovering the citadel, advanced up hill to meet them. The chiefs on both sides encouraged the fight, on the side of the Sabines Mettius Curtius, on the side of the Romans Hostius Hostilius. The latter, in the front of the battle, on unfavourable ground, supported the fortunes of the Romans by his courage and boldness. When Hostius fell, the Roman line immediately gave way, and, being routed, was driven as far as the old gate of the Palatium. Romulus himself also, carried away by the crowd of fugitives, cried, uplifting his arms to heaven: “ O Jupiter, it was at the bidding of thy omens, that here on the Palatine I laid the first foundations for the city. The citadel, purchased by crime, is now in possession of the Sabines: thence they are advancing hither in arms, having passed the valley between. But do thou, O father of gods and men, keep back the enemy from hence at least, dispel the terror of the Romans, and check their disgraceful flight. On this spot I vow to build a temple to thee as Jupiter Stator, to be a monument to posterity that the city has been preserved by thy ready aid.” Having offered up these prayers, as if he had felt that they had been heard, he cried: “From this position, O Romans, Jupiter, greatest and best, bids you halt and renew the fight.” The Romans halted as if ordered by a voice from heaven. Romulus himself hastened to the front. Mettius Curtius, on the side of the Sabines, had rushed down from the citadel at the head of his troops and driven the Romans in disordered array over the whole space of ground where the Forum now is. He had almost reached the gate of the Palatium, crying out: “ We have conquered our perfidious friends, our cowardly foes: now they know that fighting with men is a very different thing from ravishing maidens.” Upon him, as he uttered these boasts, Romulus made an attack with a band of his bravest youths. Mettius then happened to be fighting on horseback: on that account his repulse was easier. When he was driven back, the Romans followed in pursuit: and the remainder of the Roman army, fired by the bravery of the king, routed the Sabines. Mettius, his horse taking fright at the noise of his pursuers, rode headlong into a morass : this circumstance drew off the attention of the Sabines also at the danger of so high a personage. He indeed, his own party beckoning and calling to him, gaining heart from the encouraging shouts of many of his friends, made good his escape. The Romans and Sabines renewed the battle in the valley between the two hills: but the advantage rested with the Romans.

At this crisis the Sabine women, from the outrage on whom the war had arisen, with dishevelled hair and torn garments, the timidity natural to women being overcome by the sense of their calamities, were emboldened to fling themselves into the midst of the flying weapons, and, rushing across, to part the incensed combatants and assuage their wrath: imploring their fathers on the one hand and their husbands on the other, as fathers-in-law and sons-in-law, not to besprinkle themselves with impious blood, nor to fix the stain of murder on their offspring, the one side on their grandchildren, the other on their children. “ If,” said they, “ you are dissatisfied with the relationship between you, and with our marriage, turn your resentment against us; it is we who are the cause of war, of wounds and bloodshed to our husbands and parents: it will be better for us to perish than to live widowed or orphans without one or other of you.” This incident affected both the people and the leaders; silence and sudden quiet followed; the leaders thereupon came forward to conclude a treaty; and not only concluded a peace, but formed one state out of two. They united the kingly power, but transferred the entire sovereignty to Rome. Rome having thus been made a double state, that some benefit at least might be conferred on the Sabines, they were called Quirites from Cures. To serve as a memorial of that battle, they called the place—where Curtius, after having emerged from the deep morass, set his horse in shallow water—the Lacus Curtius.

This welcome peace, following suddenly on so melancholy a war, endeared the Sabine women still more to their husbands and parents, and above all to Romulus himself. Accordingly, when dividing the people into thirty curiae, he called the curiae after their names. While the number of the women were undoubtedly considerably greater than this, it is not recorded whether they were chosen for their age, their own rank or that of their husbands, or by lot, to give names to the curiae. At the same time also three centuries of knights were enrolled: the Ramnenses were so called from Romulus, the Titienses from Titus Tatius: in regard to the Luceres, the meaning of the name and its origin is uncertain. From that time forward the two kings enjoyed the regal power not only in common, but also in perfect harmony.

Several years afterward, some relatives of King Tatius ill-treated the ambassadors of the Laurentines, and on the Laurentines beginning proceedings according to the rights of nations, the influence and entreaties of his friends had more weight with Tatius. In this manner he drew upon himself the punishment that should have fallen upon them: for, having gone to Lavinium on the occasion of a regularly recurring sacrifice, he was slain in a disturbance which took place there. They say that Romulus resented this less than the event de­manded, either because partnership in sovereign power is never cordially kept up, or because he thought that he had been deservedly slain. Accordingly, while he abstained from going to war, the treaty between the cities of Rome and La­vinium was renewed, that at any rate the wrongs of the am­bassadors and the murder of the king might be expiated.

With these people, indeed, there was peace contrary to expectations : but another war broke out much nearer home and almost at the city’s gates. The Fidenates, being of opinion that a power in too close proximity to themselves was gain­ing strength, hastened to make war before the power of the Romans should attain the greatness it was evidently destined to reach. An armed band of youths was sent into Roman territory and all the territories between the city and the Fidenae was ravaged. Then, turning to the left, because on the right the Tiber was a barrier against them, they continued to ravage the country, to the great consternation of the peasantry: the sudden alarm, reaching the city from the country, was the first announcement of the invasion. Romulus, aroused by this—for a war so near home could not brook delay—led out his army, and pitched his camp a mile from Fidenae. Having left a small garrison there, he marched out with all his forces and gave orders that a part of them should lie in ambush in a spot hidden amid bushes planted thickly around; he himself advancing with the greater part of the infantry and all the cavalry, by riding up almost to the very gates, drew out the enemy—which was just what he wanted—by a mode of battle of a disorderly and threatening nature. The same tactics on the part of the cavalry caused the flight, which it was necessary to pretend, to appear less surprising: and when, as the cavalry appeared undecided whether to make up its mind to fight or flee, the infantry also retreated—the enemy, pouring forth suddenly through the crowded gates, were drawn toward the place of ambuscade, in their eagerness to press on and pursue, after they had broken the Roman line. Thereupon the Romans, suddenly arising, attacked the enemy’s line in flanks; the advance from the camp of the standards of those, who had been left behind on guard, increased the panic: thus the Fidenates, smitten with terror from many quarters, took to flight almost before Romulus and the cavalry who accompanied him could wheel round: and those who a little before had been in pursuit of men who pretended flight, made for the town again in much greater disorder, seeing that their flight was real. They did not, however, escape the foe: the Romans, pressing closely on their rear, rushed in as if it were in one body, before the doors of the gates could be shut against them.

The minds of the inhabitants of Veii, being exasperated by the infectious influence of the Fidenatian war, both from the tie of kinship—for the Fidenates also were Etruscans—and because the very proximity of the scene of action, in the event of the Roman arms being directed against all their neighbours, urged them on, they sallied forth into the Roman territories, rather with the object of plundering than after the manner of a regular war. Accordingly, without pitching a camp, or waiting for the enemy’s army, they returned to Veii, taking with them the booty they had carried off from the lands; the Roman army, on the other hand, when they did not find the enemy in the country, being ready and eager for a decisive action, crossed the Tiber. And when the Veientes heard that they were pitching a camp, and intended to advance to the city, they came out to meet them, that they might rather decide the matter in the open field, than be shut up and have to fight from their houses and walls. In this engagement the Roman king gained the victory, his power being unassisted by any stratagem, by the unaided strength of his veteran army: and having pursued the routed enemies up to their walls, he refrained from attacking the city, which was strongly fortified and well defended by its natural advantages: on his return he laid waste their lands, rather from a desire of revenge than of booty. The Veientes, humbled by that loss no less than by the unsuccessful issue of the battle, sent ambassadors to Rome to sue for peace. A truce for one hun­dred years was granted them, after they had been mulcted in a part of their territory. These were essentially the chief events of the reign of Romulus, in peace and in war, none of which seemed inconsistent with the belief of his divine origin, or of his deification after death, neither the spirit he showed in recovering his grandfather’s kingdom, nor his wisdom in building a city, and afterward strengthening it by the arts of war and peace. For assuredly it was by the power that Romulus gave it that it became so powerful, that for forty years after it enjoyed unbroken peace. He was, however, dearer to the people than to the fathers: above all others he was most beloved by the soldiers : of these he kept three hundred, whom he called Celeres, armed to serve as a body-guard not only in time of war but also of peace.

Having accomplished these works deserving of immortality, while he was holding an assembly of the people for reviewing his army, in the plain near the Goat’s pool, a storm suddenly came on, accompanied by loud thunder and lightning, and enveloped the king in so dense a mist, that it entirely hid him from the sight of the assembly. After this Romulus was never seen again upon earth. The feeling of consternation having at length calmed down, and the weather having become clear and fine again after so stormy a day, the Roman youth, seeing the royal seat empty—though they readily believed the words of the fathers who had stood nearest him, that he had been carried up to heaven by the storm—yet, struck as it were with the fear of being fatherless, for a considerable time preserved a sorrowful silence. Then, after a few had set the example, the whole multitude saluted Romulus as a god, the son of a god, the king and parent of the Roman city; they implored his favour with prayers, that with gracious kindness he would always preserve his offspring. I believe that even then there were some, who in secret were convinced that the king had been torn in pieces by the hands of the fathers—for this rumour also spread, but it was very doubtfully received; admiration for the man, however, and the awe felt at the moment, gave greater notoriety to the other report. Also by the clever idea of one individual, additional confirmation is said to have been attached to the occurrence. For Proculus Julius, while the state was still troubled at the loss of the king, and incensed against the senators, a weighty authority, as we are told, in any matter however important, came forward into the assembly. “ Quirites,” said he, “ Romulus, the father of this city, suddenly descending from heaven, appeared to me this day at daybreak. While I stood filled with dread, and religious awe, beseeching him to allow me to look upon him face to face, ‘ Go,’ said he, ‘ tell the Romans, that the gods so will, that my Rome should become the capital of the world. Therefore let them cultivate the art of war, and let them know and so hand it down to posterity, that no human power can withstand the Roman arms.’ Having said this, he vanished up to heaven.” It is surprising what credit was given to that person when he made the announcement, and how much the regret of the common people and army for the loss of Romulus was assuaged when the certainty of his immortality was confirmed.

Meanwhile contention for the throne and ambition en­gaged the minds of the fathers; the struggle was not as yet carried on by individuals, by violence or contending factions, because, among a new people, no one person was pre-eminently distinguished; the contest was carried on between the different orders. The descendants of the Sabines wished a king to be elected from their own body, lest, because there had been no king from their own party since the death of Tatius, they might lose their claim to the crown although both were on an equal footing. The old Romans spurned the idea of a foreign prince. Amid this diversity of views, however, all were anxious to be under the government of a king, as they had not yet experienced the delights of liberty. Fear then seized the senators, lest, as the minds of many surrounding states were incensed against them, some foreign power should attack the state, now without a government, and the army, now without a leader. Therefore, although they were agreed that there should be some head, yet none could bring himself to give way to another. Accordingly, the hundred senators divided the government among themselves, ten decuries being formed, and the individual members who were to have the chief direction of affairs being chosen into each decury. Ten governed; one only was attended by the lictors and with the insignia of authority: their power was limited to the space of five days, and conferred upon all in rotation, and the interval between the government of a king lasted a year. From this fact it was called an interregnum, a term which is employed even now. Then the people began to murmur, that their slavery was multiplied, and that they had now a hundred sovereigns instead of one, and they seemed determined to submit to no authority but that of a king, and that one appointed by themselves. When the fathers perceived that such schemes were on foot, thinking it advisable to offer them, without being asked, what they were sure to lose, they conciliated the good-will of the people by yielding to them the supreme power, yet in such a manner as to surrender no greater privilege than they reserved to themselves. For they decreed, that when the people had chosen a king, the election should be valid, if the senate gave the sanction of their authority. And even to this day the same forms are observed in proposing laws and magistrates, though their power has been taken away; for before the people begin to vote, the senators ratify their choice, even while the result of the elections is still uncertain. Then the interrex, having summoned an assembly of the people, addressed them as follows: “ Do you, Quirites, choose yourselves a king, and may this choice prove fortunate, happy, and auspicious; such is the will of the fathers. Then, if you shall choose a prince worthy to be reckoned next after Romulus, the fathers will ratify your choice.” This conces­sion was so pleasing to the people, that, not to appear outdone in generosity, they only voted and ordained that the senate should determine who should be king at Rome.

The justice and piety of Numa Pompilius was at that time celebrated. He dwelt at Cures, a city of the Sabines, and was as eminently learned in all law, human and divine, as any man could be in that age. They falsely represent that Py­thagoras of Samos was his instructor in learning, because there appears no other. Now it is certain that this philoso­pher, in the reign of Servius Tullius, more than a hundred years after this, held assemblies of young men, who eagerly embraced his doctrines, on the most distant shore of Italy, in the neighbourhood of Metapontum, Heraclea, and Croton. But from these places, even had he flourished in the same age, what fame of his could have reached the Sabines? or by what intercourse of language could it have aroused any one to a desire of learning? or by what safeguard could a single man have passed through the midst of so many nations differing in language and customs? I am therefore rather inclined to believe that his mind, owing to his natural bent, was attempered by virtuous qualities, and that he was not so much versed in foreign systems of philosophy as in the stern and gloomy training of the ancient Sabines, a race than which none was in former times more strict. When they heard the name of Numa, although the Roman fathers perceived that the balance of power would incline to the Sabines if a king were chosen from them, yet none of them ventured to prefer himself, or any other member of his party, or, in fine, any of the citizens or fathers, to a man so well known, but unanimously resolved that the kingdom should be offered to Numa Pompilius. Being sent for, just as Romulus obtained the throne by the augury in accordance with which he founded the city, so Numa in like manner commanded the gods to be consulted concerning himself. Upon this, being escorted into the citadel by an augur, to whose profession that office was later made a public and perpetual one by way of honour, he sat down on a stone facing the south: the augur took his seat on his left hand with his head covered, holding in his right a crooked wand free from knots, called lituus; then, after having taken a view over the city and country, and offered a prayer to the gods, he defined the bounds of the regions of the sky from east to west: the parts toward the south he called the right, those toward the north, the left; and in front of him he marked out in his mind the sign as far as ever his eyes could see. Then having shifted the lituus into his left hand, and placed his right on the head of Numa, he prayed after this manner: “ O father Jupiter, if it be thy will that this Numa Pompilius, whose head I hold, be king of Rome, mayest thou manifest infallible signs to us within those bounds which I have marked.” Then he stated in set terms the aus­pices which he wished to be sent: on their being sent, Numa was declared king and came down from the seat of augury.

Having thus obtained the kingdom, he set about establishing anew, on the principles of law and morality, the newly founded city that had been already established by force of arms. When he saw that the inhabitants, inasmuch ‘as men’s minds are brutalized by military life, could not become reconciled to such principles during the continuance of wars, considering that the savage nature of the people must be toned down by the disuse of arms, he erected at the foot of Argiletum a temple of Janus, as a sign of peace and war, that when open, it might show that the state was engaged in war, and when shut, that all the surrounding nations were at peace. Twice only since the reign of Numa has this temple been shut: once when Titus Manlius was consul, after the conclusion of the first Punic war; and a second time, which the gods granted our generation to behold, by the Emperor Caesar Augustus, after the battle of Actium, when peace was estab­lished by land and sea. This being shut, after he had secured the friendship of all the neighbouring states around by alliance and treaties, all anxiety regarding dangers from abroad being now removed, in order to prevent their minds, which the fear of enemies and military discipline had kept in check, running riot from too much leisure, he considered, that, first of all, awe of the gods should be instilled into them, a principle of the greatest efficacy in dealing with the multitude, ignorant and uncivilized as it was in those times. But as this fear could not sink deeply into their minds without some fiction of a miracle, he pretended that he held nightly interviews with the goddess Egeria; that by her direction he instituted sacred rites such as would be most acceptable to the gods, and appointed their own priests for each of the deities. And, first of all, he divided the year into twelve months, according to the courses of the moon; and because the moon does not fill up the number of thirty days in each month, and some days are wanting to the complete year, which is brought round by the solstitial revolution, he so regulated this year, by inserting intercalary months, that every twentieth year, the lengths of all the intermediate years being filled up, the days corresponded with the same starting-point of the sun whence they had set out. He likewise divided days into sacred and profane, because on certain occasions it was likely to be expedient that no business should be transacted with the people.

Next he turned his attention to the appointment of priests, though he discharged many sacred functions himself, especially those which now belong to the flamen of Jupiter. But, as he imagined that in a warlike nation there would be more kings resembling Romulus than Numa, and that they would go to war in person, in order that the sacred functions of the royal office might not be neglected, he appointed a perpetual priest as flamen to Jupiter, and distinguished him by a fine robe, and a royal curule chair. To him he added two other flamens, one for Mars, another for Quirinus. He also chose virgins for Vesta, a priesthood derived from Alba, and not foreign to the family of the founder. That they might be constant attendants in the temple, he appointed them pay out of the public treasury; and by enjoining virginity, and various religious observances, he made them sacred and venerable. He also chose twelve Salii for Mars Gradivus, and gave them the distinction of an embroidered tunic, and over the tunic a brazen covering for the breast. He commanded them to carry the shields called Ancilia, which fell from heaven, and to go through the city singing songs, with leaping and solemn dancing. Then he chose from the fathers Numa Marcius, son of Marcius, as pontiff, and consigned to him a complete system of religious rites written out and recorded, showing with what victims, upon what days, and at what temples the sacred rites were to be performed, and from what funds the money was to be taken to defray the expenses. He also placed all other religious institutions, public and pri­vate, under the control of the decrees of the pontiff, to the end that there might be some authority to whom the people should come to ask advice, to prevent any confusion in the divine worship being caused by their neglecting the ceremonies of their own country, and adopting foreign ones. He further ordained that the same pontiff should instruct the people not only in the ceremonies connected with the heavenly deities, but also in the due performance of funeral solemnities, and how to appease the shades of the dead; and what prodigies sent by lightning or any other phenomenon were to be attended to and expiated. To draw forth such knowledge from the minds of the gods, he dedicated an altar on the Aventine to Jupiter Elicius, and consulted the god by means of auguries as to what prodigies ought to be attended to.

The attention of the whole people having been thus diverted from violence and arms to the deliberation and adjustment of these matters, both their minds were engaged in some occupation, and the watchfulness of the gods now constantly impressed upon them, as the deity of heaven seemed to inter­est itself in human concerns, had filled the breasts of all with such piety, that faith and religious obligations governed the state, the dread of laws and punishments being regarded as secondary. And while the people of their own accord were forming themselves on the model of the king, as the most excellent example, the neighbouring states also, who had formerly thought that it was a camp, not a city, that had been established in their midst to disturb the general peace, were brought to feel such respect for them that they considered it impious to molest a state, wholly occupied in the worship of the gods. There was a grove, the middle of which was irri­gated by a spring of running water, flowing from a dark grotto. As Numa often repaired thither unattended, under pretence of meeting the goddess, he dedicated the grove to the Camenae, because, as he asserted, their meetings with his wife Egeria were held there. He also instituted a yearly festival to Faith alone, and commanded her priests to be driven to the chapel erected for the purpose in an arched chariot drawn by two horses, and to perform the divine service with their hands wrapped up to the fingers, intimating that Faith ought to be protected, and that even her seat in men’s right hands was sacred. He instituted many other sacred rites, and dedicated places for performing them, which the priests call Argei. But the greatest of all his works was the maintenance of peace during the whole period of his reign, no less than of his royal power. Thus two kings in succession, by different methods, the one by war, the other by peace, ag­grandized the state. Romulus reigned thirty-seven years, Numa forty-three: the state was both strong and attempered by the arts both of war and peace.

Upon the death of Numa, the administration returned again to an interregnum. After that the people appointed as king Tullus Hostilius, the grandson of that Hostilius who had made the noble stand against the Sabines at the foot of the citadel: the fathers confirmed the choice. He was not only unlike the preceding king, but even of a more warlike disposition than Romulus. Both his youth and strength, and, further, the renown of his grandfather, stimulated his ambition. Thinking therefore that the state was deteriorating through ease, he everywhere sought for an opportunity of stirring up war. It so happened that some Roman and Alban peasants mutually plundered each other’s lands. Gaius Cluilius at that time was in power at Alba. From both sides ambassadors were sent almost at the same time, to demand satisfaction. Tullus had ordered his representatives to attend to their instructions before anything else. He knew well that the Alban would refuse, and so war might be proclaimed with a clear conscience. Their commission was executed in a more dilatory manner by the Albans: being courteously and kindly entertained by Tullus, they gladly took advantage of the king’s hospitality. Meanwhile the Romans had both been first in demanding satisfaction, and upon the refusal of the Alban, had proclaimed war upon the expiration of thirty days: of this they gave Tullus notice. Thereupon he granted the Alban ambassadors an opportunity of stating with what demands they came. They, ignorant of everything, at first wasted some time in making excuses: That it was with reluctance they would say anything which might be displeasing to Tullus, but they were compelled by orders: that they had come to demand satisfaction: if this was not granted, they were commanded to declare war. To this Tullus made answer, “Go tell your king, that the king of the Romans takes the gods to witness, that, whichever of the two nations shall have first dismissed with contempt the ambassadors demanding satisfaction, from it they [the gods] may exact atonement for the disasters of this war.” This message the Albans carried home.

Preparations were made on both sides with the utmost vigour for a war very like a civil one, in a manner between parents and children, both being of Trojan stock: for from Troy came Lavinium, from Lavinium, Alba, and the Romans were descended from the stock of the Alban kings. However, the result of the war rendered the quarrel less distressing, for the struggle never came to regular action, and when the buildings only of one of the cities had been demolished, the two states were incorporated into one. The Albans first invaded the Roman territories with a large army. They pitched their camp not more than five miles from the city, and surrounded it with a trench, which, for several ages, was called the Cluilian trench, from the name of the general, till, by lapse of time, the name, as well as the event itself, was forgotten. In that camp Cluilius, the Alban king, died: the Albans created Mettius Fufetius dictator. In the meantime Tullus, exultant, especially at the death of the king, and giving out that the supreme power of the gods, having begun at the head, would take vengeance on the whole Alban nation for this impious war, having passed the enemy’s camp in the nighttime, marched with a hostile army into the Alban territory. This circumstance drew out Mettius from his camp: he led his forces as close as possible to the enemy; thence he despatched a herald and commanded him to tell Tullus that a conference was expedient before they came to an engagement; and that, if he would give him a meeting, he. was certain he would bring forward matters which concerned the interests of Rome no less than of Alba. Tullus did not reject the offer: nevertheless, in case the proposals made should prove fruitless, he led out his men in order of battle: the Albans on their side marched out also, After both armies stood drawn up in battle array, the chiefs, with a few of the principal officers, advanced into the midst. Then the Alban began as follows: “That injuries and the non-restitution of property claimed according to treaty is the cause of this war, methinks I have both heard our king Cluilius assert, and I doubt not, Tullus, but that you allege the same. But if the truth must be told, rather than what is plausible, it is thirst for rule that provokes two kindred and neighbouring states to arms. Whether rightly or wrongly, I do not take upon myself to determine: let the consideration of that rest with him who has begun the war. As for myself, the Albans have only made me their leader for carrying on that war. Of this, Tullus, I would have you advised: how powerful the Etruscan state is around us, and around you particularly, you know better than we, inasmuch as you are nearer to them. They are very powerful by land, far more so by sea. Recollect that, directly you shall give the signal for battle, these two armies will be the object of their attention, that they may fall on us when wearied and exhausted, victor and vanquished together. Therefore, for the love of heaven, since, not content with a sure independence, we are running the doubtful hazard of sovereignty and slavery, let us adopt some method, whereby, without great loss, without much bloodshed of either nation, it may be decided which is to rule the other.” The proposal was not displeasing to Tullus, though both from his natural bent, as also from the hope of victory, he was rather inclined to violence. After consideration, on both sides, a plan was adopted, for which Fortune herself afforded the means of execution.

. It happened that there were in the two armies at that time three brothers born at one birth, neither in age nor strength ill-matched. That they were called Horatii and Curiatii is certain enough, and there is hardly any fact of antiquity more generally known; yet in a manner so well ascertained, a doubt remains concerning their names, as to which nation the Horatii, to which the Curiatii belonged. Authors incline to both sides, yet I find a majority who call the Horatii Romans: my own inclination leads me to follow them. The kings arranged with the three brothers, that they should fight with swords, each in defence of their respective country; assuring them that dominion would rest with those on whose side victory should declare itself. No objection was raised; the time and place were agreed upon. Before the engagement began, a compact was entered into between the Romans and Albans on these conditions, that that state, whose cham­pions should come off victorious in the combat, should rule the other state without further dispute. Different treaties are made on different conditions, but in general they are all concluded with the same formalities. We have heard that the treaty in question was then concluded as follows, nor is there extant a more ancient record of any treaty. The herald asked King Tullus, “ Dost thou command me, O king, to conclude a treaty with the pater patratus of the Alban people?” On the king so commanding him he said, “ I demand vervain of thee, O king.” The king replied, “ Take some that is pure.” The herald brought a pure blade of grass from the citadel; then again he asked the king, “ Dost thou, O king, appoint me the royal delegate of the Roman people, the Quirites, and my appurtenances and attendants?” The king replied, “So far as it may be done without detriment to me and to the Roman people, the Quirites, I do so.” The herald was Marcus Valerius, who appointed Spurius Fusius pater patratus, touching his head and hair with the vervain.The pater patratus was appointed ad iusiurandum patrandum, that is, to ratify the treaty; and he went through it in a lengthy preamble, which, being expressed in a long set form, it is not worth while to repeat. After having set forth the conditions, he said: “ Hear, O Jupiter; hear, O pater patratus of the Alban people, and ye, O Alban people, give ear. As those conditions, from first to last, have been publicly recited from those tablets or wax without wicked or fraudulent intent, and as they have been most correctly understood here this day, the Roman people will not be the first to fail to observe those conditions. If they shall be the first to do so by public consent, by fraudulent intent, on that day do thou, O Jupiter, so strike the Roman people, as I shall here this day strike this swine; and do thou strike them so much the more, as thou art more mighty and more powerful.” When he said this, he struck the swine with a flint stone. The Albans like­wise went through their own set form and oath by the mouth of their own dictator and priests.

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, though alone he was by no means a match for them all together, yet he was full of confidence against each singly. In order therefore to separate their attack, he took to flight, presuming that they would each pursue him with such swiftness as the wounded state of his body would permit. He had now fled a considerable distance from the place where the fight had taken place, when, looking back, he perceived that they were pursuing him at a great distance from each other, and that one of them was not far from him. On him he turned round with great fury, and while the Alban army shouted out to the Curiatii to succour their brother, Horatius by this time victorious, having slain his antagonist, was now proceeding to a second attack. Then the Romans encouraged their champion with a shout such as is wont to be raised when men cheer in consequence of unexpected success; and he hastened to finish the combat. Wherefore before the other, who was not far off, could come up to him, he slew the second Curiatius also. And now, the combat being brought to equal terms, one on each side remained, but unequally matched in hope and strength. The one was inspired with courage for a third contest by the fact that his body was uninjured by a weapon, and by his double victory: the other dragging along his body exhausted from his wound, exhausted from running, and dispirited by the slaughter of his brothers before his eyes, thus met his victorious antagonist. And indeed there was no fight. The Roman, exulting, cried: “ Two I have offered to the shades of my brothers: the third I will offer to the cause of this war, that the Roman may rule over the Alban.” He thrust his sword down from above into his throat, while he with difficulty supported the weight of his arms, and stripped him as he lay prostrate. The Romans welcomed Horatius with joy and congratulations; with so much the greater exultation, as the matter had closely bordered on alarm. They then turned their attention to the burial of their friends, with feelings by no means the same: for the one side was elated by the acquisition of empire, the other brought under the rule of others: their sepulchres may still be seen in the spot where each fell; the two Roman in one place nearer Alba, the three Alban in the direction of Rome, but situated at some distance from each other, as in fact they had fought.

Before they departed from thence, when Mettius, in ac­cordance with the treaty which had been concluded, asked Tullus what his orders were, he ordered him to keep his young men under arms, for he intended to employ them, if a war should break out with the Veientes. After this both armies were led away to their homes. Horatius marched in front, carrying before him the spoils of the three brothers: his maiden sister, who had been betrothed to one of the Curiatii, met him before the gate Capena; and having recognised on her brother’s shoulders the military robe of her betrothed, which she herself had worked, she tore her hair, and with bitter wailings called by name on her deceased lover. The sister’s lamentations in the midst of his own victory, and of such great public rejoicings, raised the ire of the hot-tempered youth. So, having drawn his sword, he ran the maiden through the body, at the same time reproaching her with these words: “ Go hence with thy ill-timed love to thy spouse, forgetful of thy brothers that are dead, and of the one who survives—forgetful of thy country. So fare every Roman woman who shall mourn an enemy.” This deed seemed cruel to the fathers and to the people; but his recent services outweighed its enormity. Nevertheless he was dragged before the king for judgment. The king, however, that he might not him­self be responsible for a decision so melancholy, and so dis­agreeable in the view of the people, or for the punishment consequent on such decision, having summoned an assembly of the people, declared, “ I appoint, according to law, duumvirs to pass sentence on Horatius for treason.” The law was of dreadful formula. “ Let the duumvirs pass sentence for treason. If he appeal from the duumvirs, let him contend by appeal; if they shall gain the cause, let the lictor cover his head, hang him by a rope on the accursed tree, scourge him either within the pomerium, or without the pomerium.” The duumvirs appointed in accordance with this decision, who did not consider that, according to that law, they could acquit the man even if innocent, having condemned him, then one of them said: “ Publius Horatius, I judge thee guilty of treason. Lictor, bind his hands.” The lictor had approached him, and was commencing to fix the rope round his neck. Then Horatius, on the advice of Tullus, a merciful interpreter of the law, said, “ I appeal.” Accordingly the matter was contested before the people as to the appeal. At that trial the spectators were much affected, especially on Publius Horatius the father declaring that he considered his daughter to have been deservedly slain; were it not so, that he would by virtue of his authority as a father have inflicted punishment on his son. He then entreated them, that they would not render him childless, one whom but a little while ago they had beheld blessed with a fine progeny. During these words the old man, having embraced the youth, pointing to the spoils of the Curiatii hung up in that place which is now called Pila Horatia,“ Quirites,” said he, “ can you bear to see bound beneath the gallows, amid scourgings and tortures, the man whom you just now beheld marching decorated with spoils and exulting in victory—a sight so shocking that even the eyes of the Albans could scarcely endure it? Go then, lictor, bind those hands, which but a little while since, armed, won sovereignty for the Roman people. Go, cover the head of the liberator of this city: hang him on the accursed tree: scourge him, either within the pomerium, so it be only amid those javelins and spoils of the enemy, or without the pomerium, so it be only amid the graves of the Curiatii. For whither can you lead this youth, where his own noble deeds will not redeem him from such disgraceful punishment? ” The people could not withstand either the tears of the father, or the spirit of the son, the same in every danger, and acquitted him more from admiration of his bravery, than on account of the justice of his cause. But that so clear a murder might be at least atoned for by some expiation, the father was commanded to expiate the son’s guilt at the public charge. He, having offered certain expiatory sacrifices, which were ever after continued in the Horatian family, and laid a beam across the street, made the youth pass under it, as under the yoke, with his head covered. This beam remains even to this day, being constantly repaired at the public expense; it is called Sororium Tigillum (Sister’s Beam). A tomb of square stone was erected to Horatia in the spot where she was stabbed and fell.

However, the peace with Alba did not long continue. The dissatisfaction of the populace at the fortune of the state having been intrusted to three soldiers, perverted the wavering mind of the dictator; and since straightforward measures had not turned out well, he began to conciliate the affections of the populace by treacherous means. Accordingly, as one who had formerly sought peace in time of war, and was now seeking war in time of peace, because he perceived that his own state possessed more courage than strength, he stirred up other nations to make war openly and by proclamation: for his own people he reserved the work of treachery under the show of allegiance. The Fidenates, a Roman colony, having taken the Veientes into partnership in the plot, were in­stigated to declare war and take up arms under a compact of desertion on the part of the Albans. When Fidenae had openly revolted, Tullus, after summoning Mettius and his army from Alba, marched against the enemy. When he crossed the Anio, he pitched his camp at the conflux of the rivers. Between that place and Fidenae, the army of the Veientes had crossed the Tiber. These, in the line of battle, also occupied the right wing near the river; the Fidenates were posted on the left nearer the mountains. Tullus stationed his own men opposite the Veientine foe; the Albans he posted to face the legion of the Fidenates. The Alban had no more courage than loyalty. Therefore neither daring to keep his ground, nor to desert openly, he filed off slowly to the mountains. After this, when he supposed he had advanced far enough, he led his entire army uphill, and still wavering in mind, in order to waste time, opened his ranks. His design was, to direct his forces to that side on which fortune should give success. At first the Romans who stood nearest were astonished, when they perceived their flanks were exposed by the departure of their allies; then a horse­man at full gallop announced to the king that the Albans were moving off. Tullus, in this perilous juncture, vowed twelve Salii and temples to Paleness and Panic. Rebuking the horseman in a loud voice, so that the enemy might hear him plainly, he ordered him to return to the ranks, that there was no occasion for alarm; that it was by his order that the Alban army was being led round to fall on the unprotected rear of the Fidenates. He likewise commanded him to order the cavalry to raise their spears aloft; the execution of this order shut out the view of the retreating Alban army from a great part of the Roman infantry. Those who saw it, believing that it was even so, as they had heard from the king, fought with all the greater valour. The alarm was transferred to the enemy; they had both heard what had been uttered so loudly, and a great part of the Fidenates, as men who had mixed as colonists with the Romans, understood Latin. Therefore, that they might not be cut off from the town by a sudden descent of the Albans from the hills, they took to flight. Tullus pressed forward, and having routed the wing of the Fidenates, returned with greater fury against the Veientes, who were disheartened by the panic of the others: they did not even sustain his charge; but the river, opposed to them in the rear, prevented a disordered flight. When their flight led thither, some, shamefully throwing down their arms, rushed blindly into the river; others, while lingering on the banks, undecided whether to fight or flee, were overpowered. Never before was a more desperate battle fought by the Romans.

Then the Alban army, which had been a mere spectator of the fight, was marched down into the plains. Mettius con­gratulated Tullus on his victory over the enemy; Tullus on his part addressed Mettius with courtesy. He ordered the Albans to unite their camp with that of the Romans, which he prayed heaven might prove beneficial to both; and pre­pared a purificatory sacrifice for the next day. As soon as it was daylight, all things being in readiness, according to custom, he commanded both armies to be summoned to an assembly. The heralds, beginning at the farthest part of the camp, summoned the Albans first. They, struck also with the novelty of the thing, in order to hear the Roman king deliver a speech, crowded next to him. The Roman forces, under arms, according to previous arrangement, surrounded them; the centurions had been charged to execute their orders without delay. Then Tullus began as follows: “Romans, if ever before, at any other time, in any war, there was a reason that you should return thanks, first to the immortal gods, next to your own valour, it was yesterday’s battle. For the strug­gle was not so much with enemies as with the treachery and perfidy of allies, a struggle which is more serious and more dangerous. For—that you may not be under a mistaken opinion—know that it was without my orders that the Albans retired to the mountains, nor was that my command, but a stratagem and the mere pretence of a command: that you, being kept in ignorance that you were deserted, your attention might not be drawn away from the fight, and that the enemy might be inspired with terror and dismay, conceiving themselves to be surrounded on the rear. Nor is that guilt, which I now complain of, shared by all the Albans. They merely followed their leader, as you too would have done, had I wished to turn my army away to any other point from thence. It is Mettius there who is the leader of this march: it is Mettius also who is the contriver of this war: it is Mettius who is the violator of the treaty between Rome and Alba. Let another hereafter venture to do the like, if I do not presently make of him a signal example to mankind.” The cen­turions in arms stood around Mettius: the king proceeded with the rest of his speech as he had commenced: “ It is my intention, and may it prove fortunate, happy, and auspicious to the Roman people, to myself, and to you, O Albans, to transplant all the inhabitants of Alba to Rome, to grant your commons the rights of citizenship, to admit your nobles into the body of senators, to make one city, one state: as the Alban state after being one people was formerly divided into two, so let it now again become one.” On hearing this the Alban youth, unarmed, surrounded by armed men, although divided in their sentiments, yet under pressure of the general apprehension maintained silence. Then Tullus proceeded: “ If, Mettius Fufetius, you were capable of learning fidelity, and how to observe treaties, I would have suffered you to live and have given you such a lesson. But as it is, since your disposition is incurable, do you at any rate by your punishment teach mankind to consider those obligations sacred, which have been violated by you? As therefore a little while since you kept your mind divided between the interests of Fidenae and of Rome, so shall you now surrender your body to be torn asunder in different directions.” Upon this, two chariots drawn by four horses being brought up, he bound Mettius stretched at full length to their carriages: then the horses were driven in different directions, carrying off his mangled body on each carriage, where the limbs had remained hanging to the cords. All turned away their eyes from so shocking a spectacle. That was the first and last instance among the Romans of a punishment which established a precedent that showed but little regard for the laws of humanity. In other cases we may boast that no other nation has approved of milder forms of punishment.

Meanwhile the cavalry had already been sent on to Alba, to transplant the people to Rome. The legions were next led thither to demolish the city. When they entered the gates, there was not indeed such a tumult or panic as usually pre­vails in captured cities, when, after the gates have been burst open, or the walls levelled by the battering-ram, of the citadel taken by assault, the shouts of the enemy and rush of armed men through the city throws everything into confusion with fire and sword: but gloomy silence and speechless sorrow so stupefied the minds of all, that, through fear, paying no heed as to what they should leave behind, what they should take with them, in their perplexity, making frequent inquiries one of another, they now stood on the thresholds, now wandering about, roamed through their houses, which they were destined to see then for the last time. When now the shouts of the horsemen commanding them to depart became urgent, and the crash of the dwellings which were being demolished was heard in the remotest parts of the city, and the dust, rising from distant places, had filled every quarter as with a cloud spread over them; then, hastily carrying out whatever each of them could, while they went forth, leaving behind them their guardian deity and household gods. and the homes in which each had been born and brought up, an unbroken line of emigrants soon filled the streets, and the sight of others caused their tears to break out afresh in pity for one another: piteous cries too were heard, of the women more especially, as they passed by their revered temples now beset with armed men, and left their gods as it were in captivity. After the Albans had evacuated the town, the Roman soldiery levelled all the public and private buildings indiscriminately to the ground, and a single hour consigned to.destruction and ruin the work of four hundred years, during which Alba had stood. The temples of the gods, however—for so it had been ordered by the king—were spared.

In the meantime Rome increased by the destruction of Alba. The number of citizens was doubled. The Coelian Mount was added to the city, and, in order that it might be more thickly populated, Tullus selected it as a site for his palace, and subsequently took up his abode there. The leading men of the Albans he enrolled among the patricians, that that division of the state also might increase, the Tullii, Servilii, Quinctii, Geganii, Curiatii, Cloelii; and as a consecrated place of meeting for the order thus augmented by himself he built a senate-house, which was called Hostilia even down to the time of our fathers. Further, that all ranks might acquire some additional strength from the new people, he chose ten troops of horsemen from among the Albans: he likewise recruited the old legions, and raised new ones, by additions from the same source. Trusting to this increase of strength, Tullus declared war against the Sabines, a nation at that time the most powerful, next to the Etruscans, in men and arms. On both sides wrongs had been committed, and satisfaction demanded in vain. Tullus complained that some Roman merchants had been seized in a crowded market near the temple of Feronia: the Sabines that some of their people had previously taken refuge in the asylum, and had been detained at Rome. These were put forward as the causes of the war. The Sabines, well aware both that a portion of their strength had been settled at Rome by Tatius, and that the Roman power had also been lately increased by the accession of the Alban people, began, in like manner, to look around for foreign aid themselves. Etruria was in their neighbourhood; of the Etruscans the Veientes were the nearest. From thence they attracted some volunteers, whose minds were stirred up to break the truce, chiefly in consequence of the rankling animosities from former wars. Pay also had its weight with some stragglers belonging to the indigent population. They were assisted by no aid from the government, and the loyal observation of the truce concluded with Romulus was strictly kept by the Veientes: with respect to the others it is less surprising. While both sides were preparing for war with the utmost vigour, and the matter seemed to turn on this, which side should first commence hostilities, Tullus advanced first into the Sabine territory. A desperate battle took place at the wood called Malitiosa, in which the Roman army gained a decisive advantage, both by reason of the superior strength of their infantry, and also, more especially, by the aid of their cavalry, which had been recently increased. The Sabine ranks were thrown into disorder by a sudden charge of the cavalry, nor could they afterward stand firm in battle array, or retreat in loose order without great slaughter.

After the defeat of the Sabines, when the government of Tullus and the whole Roman state enjoyed great renown, and was highly flourishing, it was announced to the king and senators, that it had rained stones on the Alban Mount. As this could scarcely be credited, on persons being sent to investigate the prodigy, a shower of stones fell from heaven before their eyes, just as when balls of hail are pelted down to the earth by the winds. They also seemed to hear a loud voice from the grove on the summit of the hill, bidding the Albans perform their religious services according to the rites of their native country, which they had consigned to oblivion, as if their gods had been abandoned at the same time as their country; and had either adopted the religious rites of Rome, or, as often happens, enraged at their evil destiny, had altogether renounced the worship of the gods. A festival of nine days was instituted publicly by the Romans also on account of the same prodigy, either in obedience to the heavenly voice sent from the Alban Mount—for that, too, is re­ported—or by the advice of the soothsayers. Anyhow, it continued a solemn observance, that, whenever a similar prodigy was announced, a festival for nine days was observed. Not long after, they were afflicted with an epidemic; and though in consequence of this there arose an unwillingness to serve, yet no respite from arms was given them by the warlike king, who considered besides that the bodies of the young men were more healthy when on service abroad than at home, until he himself also was attacked by a lingering disease. Then that proud spirit and body became so broken, that he, who had formerly considered nothing less worthy of a king than to devote his mind to religious observances, began to pass his time a slave to every form of superstition, important and trifling, and filled the people’s minds also with re­ligious scruples. The majority of his subjects, now desiring the restoration of that state of things which had existed under King Numa, thought that the only chance of relief for their diseased bodies lay in grace and compassion being obtained from the gods. It is said that the king himself, turning over the commentaries of Numa, after he had found therein that certain sacrifices of a secret and solemn nature had been performed to Jupiter Elicius, shut himself up and set about the performance of those solemnities, but that that rite was not duly undertaken or carried out, and that not only was no heavenly manifestation vouchsafed to him, but he and his house were struck by lightning and burned to ashes, through the anger of Jupiter, who was exasperated at the ceremony having been improperly performed.  Tullus reigned two-and-thirty years with great military renown.

On the death of Tullus, according to the custom established in the first instance, the government devolved once more upon the senate, who nominated an interrex; and on his holding the comitia, the people elected Ancus Marcius king. The fathers ratified the election. Ancus Marcius was the grandson of King Numa Pompilius by his daughter. As soon as he began to reign, mindful of the renown of his grand­father, and reflecting that the last reign, glorious as it had been in every other respect, in one particular had not been adequately prosperous, either because the rites of religion had been utterly neglected, or improperly performed, and deeming it of the highest importance to perform the public ceremonies of religion, as they had been instituted by Numa, he ordered the pontiff, after he had recorded them all from the king’s commentaries on white tables, to set them up in a public place. Hence, as both his own subjects, and the neigh­bouring nations desired peace, hope was entertained that the king would adopt the conduct and institutions of his grand­father. Accordingly, the Latins, with whom a treaty had been concluded in the reign of Tullus, gained fresh courage; and, after they had invaded Roman territory, returned a contemptuous answer to the Romans when they demanded satisfaction, supposing that the Roman king would spend his reign in indolence among chapels and altars. The disposition of Ancus was between two extremes, preserving the qualities of both Numa and Romulus; and, besides believing that peace was more necessary in his grandfather’s reign, since the people were then both newly formed and uncivilized, he also felt that he could not easily preserve the tranquility unmolested which had fallen to his lot: that his patience was being tried, and being tried, was despised: and that the times generally were more suited to a King Tullus than to a Numa. In order, however, that, since Numa had instituted religious rites in peace, ceremonies relating to war might be drawn up by him, and that wars might not only be waged, but proclaimed also in accordance with some prescribed form, he borrowed from an ancient nation, the Aequicolae, and drew up the form which the heralds observe to this day, according to which restitution is demanded. The ambassador, when he reaches the frontiers of the people from whom satisfaction is demanded, having his head covered with a fillet—this covering is of wool—says: “ Hear, O Jupiter, hear, ye confines ” (naming whatsoever nation they belong to), “ let divine justice hear. I am the public messenger of the Roman people; I come deputed by right and religion, and let my words gain credit.” He then definitely states his demands; afterward he calls Jupiter to witness: “ If I demand these persons and these goods to be given up to me contrary to human or divine right, then mayest thou never permit me to enjoy my native country.” These words he repeats when he passes over the frontiers: the same to the first man he meets: the same on entering the gate: the same on entering the forum, with a slight change of expression in the form of the declaration and drawing up of the oath. If the persons whom he demands are not delivered up, after the expiration of thirty-three days —for this number is enjoined by rule—he declares war in the following terms: “Hear, Jupiter, and thou, Janus Quirinus, and all ye celestial, terrestrial, and infernal gods, give ear! I call you to witness, that this nation ” (mentioning its name) “is unjust, and does not carry out the principles of justice: however, we will consult the elders in our own country concerning those matters, by what means we may obtain our rights.” The messenger returns with them to Rome to consult. The king used immediately to consult the fathers as nearly as possible in the following words: “ Concerning such things, causes of dispute, and quarrels, as the pater patratus of the Roman people, the Quirites, has treated with the pater patratus of the ancient Latins, and with the ancient Latin people, which things ought to be given up, made good, discharged, which things they have neither given up, nor made good, nor discharged, declare,” says he to him, whose opinion he asked first, “ what think you? ” Then he replies: “ I think that they should be demanded by a war free from guilt and regularly declared; and accordingly I agree, and vote for it.” Then the others were asked in order, and when the majority of those present expressed the same opinion, war was agreed upon. It was customary for the fetialis to carry in his hand a spear pointed with steel, or burned at the end and dipped in blood, to the confines of the enemy’s country, and in presence of at least three grown-up persons, to say, “ Forasmuch as the states of the ancient Latins, and the ancient Latin people, have offended against the Roman people of the Quirites, forasmuch as the Roman people of the Quirites have ordered that there should be war with the ancient Latins, and the senate of the Roman people, the Quirites, have given their opinion, agreed, and voted that war should be waged with the ancient Latins, on this account I and the Roman people declare and wage war on the states of the ancient Latins, and on the ancient Latin people.” Whenever he said that, he used to hurl the spear within their confines. After this manner at that time satisfaction was demanded from the Latins, and war pro­claimed: and posterity has adopted that usage.

Ancus, having intrusted the care of sacred matters to the flamens and other priests, set out with an army freshly levied, and took Politorium, a city of the Latins, by storm: and following the example of former kings, who had increased the Roman power by incorporating enemies into the state, transplanted all the people to Rome. And since the Sabines had occupied the Capitol and citadel, and the Albans the Coelian Mount on both sides of the Palatium, the dwelling-place of the old Romans, the Aventine was assigned to the new people; not long after, on the capture of Tellenae and Ficana, new citizens were added to the same quarter. After this Politorium, which the ancient Latins had taken possession of when vacated, was taken a second time by force of arms. This was the cause of the Romans demolishing that city, that it might never after serve as a place of refuge for the enemy. At last, the war with the Latins being entirely concentrated at Medullia, the contest was carried on there for some time with changing success, according as the fortune of war varied: for the town was both well protected by fortified works, and strengthened by a powerful garrison, and the Latins, having pitched their camp in the open, had several times come to a close engagement with the Romans. At last Ancus, making an effort with all his forces, first defeated them in a pitched battle, and, enriched by considerable booty, returned thence to Rome: many thousands of the Latins were then also admitted to citizenship, to whom, in order that the Aventine might be united to the Palatium, a settlement was assigned near the Temple of Murcia. The Janiculum was likewise added, not from want of room, but lest at any time it should become a stronghold for the enemy. It was resolved that it should not only be surrounded by a wall, but also, for convenience of passage, be united to the city by a wooden bridge, which was then for the first time built across the Tiber. The fossa Quiritium, no inconsiderable defence in places where the ground was lower and consequently easier of access, was also the work of King Ancus. The state being augmented by such great accessions, seeing that, amid such a multitude of inhabitants (all distinction of right and wrong being as yet confounded), secret crimes were committed, a prison was built in the heart of the city, overlooking the forum, to intimidate the growing licentiousness. And not only was the city increased under this king, but also its territory and boundaries. After the Mesian forest had been taken from the Veientines, the Roman dominion was extended as far as the sea, and the city of Ostia built at the mouth of the Tiber; salt-pits were dug around it, and, in consequence of the distinguished successes in war, the Temple of Jupiter Feretrius was enlarged.

In the reign of Ancus, Lucumo, a wealthy and enterprising man, came to settle at Rome, prompted chiefly by the desire and hope of high preferment, which he had no opportunity of obtaining at Tarquinii (for there also he was descended from an alien stock). He was the son of Demaratus, a Corinthian, who, an exile from his country on account of civil disturbances, had chanced to settle at Tarquinii, and having married a wife there, had two sons by her. Their names were Lucumo and Arruns. Lucumo survived his father, and became heir to all his property. Arruns died before his father, leaving a wife pregnant. The father did not long survive the son, and as he, not knowing that his daughter­in-law was pregnant, had died without mentioning his grand­child in his will, the boy who was born after the death of his grandfather, and had no share in his fortune, was given the name of Egerius on account of his poverty. Lucumo, who was, on the other hand, the heir of all his father’s property, being filled with high aspirations by reason of his wealth, had these ambitions greatly advanced by his marriage with Tanaquil, who was descended from a very high family, and was a woman who would not readily brook that the condition into which she had married should be inferior to that in which she had been born. As the Etruscans despised Lucumo, as being sprung from a foreign exile, she could not put up with the affront, and, regardless of the natural love of her native country, provided only she could see her husband advanced to honour, she formed the design of leaving Tarquinii. Rome seemed particularly suited for that purpose. In a state, lately founded, where all nobility is rapidly gained and as the re­ward of merit, there would be room (she thought) for a man of courage and activity. Tatius, a Sabine, had been king of Rome: Numa had been sent for from Cures to reign there: Ancus was sprung from a Sabine mother, and rested his title to nobility on the single statue of Numa. Without difficulty she persuaded him, being, as he was, ambitious of honours, and one to whom Tarquinii was his country only on his mother’s side. Accordingly, removing their effects, they set out for Rome. They happened to have reached the Janiculum: there, as he sat in the chariot with his wife, an eagle, gently swooping down on floating wings, took off his cap, and hovering above the chariot with loud screams, as if it had been sent from heaven for that very purpose, carefully replaced it on his head, and then flew aloft out of sight. Tanaquil is said to have joyfully welcomed this omen, being a woman well skilled, as the Etruscans generally are, in celestial prodigies, and, embracing her husband, bade him hope for a high and lofty destiny: that such a bird had come from such a quarter of the heavens, and the messenger of such a god: that it had declared the omen around the highest part of man: that it had lifted the ornament placed on the head of man, to restore it to him again, by direction of the gods.

Bearing with them such hopes and thoughts, they entered the city, and having secured a dwelling there, they gave out his name as Lucius Tarquinius Priscus. The fact that he was a stranger and his wealth rendered him an object of attention to the Romans. He himself also promoted his own good fortune by his affable address, by the courteousness of his invitations, and by gaining over to his side all whom he could by acts of kindness, until reports concerning him reached even to the palace: and that notoriety he, in a short time, by paying his court to the king without truckling and with skilful address, improved so far as to be admitted on a footing of intimate friendship, so much so that he was present at all public and private deliberations alike, both foreign and do­mestic; and being now proved in every sphere, he was at length, by the king’s will, also appointed guardian to his children.

Ancus reigned twenty-four years, equal to any of the former kings both in the arts of war and peace, and in renown. His sons were now nigh the age of puberty; for which reason Tarquin was more urgent that the assembly for the election of a king should be held as soon as possible. The assembly having been proclaimed, he sent the boys out of the way to hunt just before the time of the meeting. He is said to have been the first who canvassed for the crown, and to have made a speech expressly worded with the object of gaining the af­fections of the people: saying that he did not aim at anything unprecedented, for that he was not the first foreigner (a thing at which any one might feel indignation or surprise), but the third who aspired to the sovereignty of Rome. That Tatius who had not only been an alien, but even an enemy, had been made king; that Numa, who knew nothing of the city, and without solicitation on his part, had been voluntarily invited by them to the throne. That he, from the time he was his own master, had migrated to Rome with his wife and whole fortune, and had spent a longer period of that time of life, during which men are employed in civil offices, at Rome, than he had in his native country; that he had both in peace and war become thoroughly acquainted with the political and religious institutions of the Romans, under a master by no means to be despised, King Ancus himself; that he had vied with all in duty and loyalty to his king, and with the king himself in his bounty to others. While he was recounting these undoubted facts, the people with great unanimity elected him king. The same spirit of ambition which had prompted Tarquin, in other respects an excellent man, to aspire to the crown, attended him also on the throne. And being no less mindful of strengthening his own power, than of increasing the commonwealth, he elected a hundred new members into the senate, who from that time were called minorum gentium, a party who stanchly supported the king, by whose favour they had been admitted into the senate. The first war he waged was with the Latins, in whose territory he took the town of Apiolae by storm, and having brought back thence more booty than might have been expected from the reported importance of the war, he celebrated games with more mag­nificence and display than former kings. The place for the circus, which is now called Maximus, was then first marked out, and spaces were apportioned to the senators and knights, where they might each erect seats for themselves: these were called fori (benches). They viewed the games from scaffolding which supported seats twelve feet in height from the ground. The show consisted of horses and boxers that were summoned, chiefly from Etruria. These solemn games, afterward celebrated annually, continued an institution, being afterward variously called the Roman and Great games. By the same king also spaces round the forum were assigned to private individuals for building on; covered walks and shops were erected.

He was also preparing to surround the city with a stone wall, when a war with the Sabines interrupted his plans. The whole thing was so sudden, that the enemy passed the Anio before the Roman army could meet and prevent them: great alarm therefore was felt at Rome. At first they fought with doubtful success, and with great slaughter on both sides. After this, the enemy’s forces were led back into camp, and the Romans having thus gained time to make preparations for the war afresh, Tarquin, thinking that the weak point of his army lay specially in the want of cavalry, determined to add other centuries to the Ramnenses, Titienses, and Luceres which Romulus had enrolled, and to leave them distinguished by his own name. Because Romulus had done this after in­quiries by augury, Attus Navius, a celebrated soothsayer of the day, insisted that no alteration or new appointment could be made, unless the birds had approved of it. The king, en­raged at this, and, as they say, mocking at his art, said, “ Come, thou diviner, tell me, whether what I have in my mind can be done or not?” When Attus, having tried the matter by divination, affirmed that it certainly could, “ Well, then,” said he, “ I was thinking that you should cut asunder this whetstone with a razor. Take it, then, and perform what thy birds portend can be done.” Thereupon they say that he immediately cut the whetstone in two. A statue of Attus, with his head veiled, was erected in the comitium, close to the steps on the left of the senate-house, on the spot where the event occurred. They say also that the whetstone was deposited in the same place, that it might remain as a record of that miracle to posterity. Without doubt so much honour accrued to auguries and the college of augurs, that nothing was subsequently undertaken either in peace or war without taking the auspices, and assemblies of the people, the summoning of armies, and the most important affairs of state were put off, whenever the birds did not prove propitious. Nor did Tarquin then make any other alteration in the centuries of horse, except that he doubled the number of men in each of these divisions, so that the three centuries consisted of one thousand eight hundred knights; only, those that were added were called “ the younger,” but by the same names as the earlier, which, because they have been doubled, they now call the six centuries.

This part of his forces being augmented, a second engagement took place with the Sabines. But, besides that the strength of the Roman army had been thus augmented, a stratagem also was secretly resorted to, persons being sent to throw into the river a great quantity of timber that lay on the banks of the Anio, after it had been first set on fire; and the wood, being further kindled by the help of the wind, and the greater part of it, that was placed on rafts, being driven against and sticking in the piles, fired the bridge. This accident also struck terror into the Sabines during the battle, and, after they were routed, also impeded their flight. Many, after they had escaped the enemy, perished in the river: their arms floating down the Tiber to the city, and being recog­nised, made the victory known almost before any announcement of it could be made. In that action the chief credit rested with the cavalry: they say that, being posted on the two wings, when the centre of their own infantry was now being driven back, they charged so briskly in flank, that they not only checked the Sabine legions who pressed hard on those who were retreating, but suddenly put them to flight. The Sabines made for the mountains in disordered flight, but only a few reached them; for, as has been said before, most of them were driven by the cavalry into the river. Tarquin, thinking it advisable to press the enemy hard while in a state of panic, having sent the booty and the prisoners to Rome, and piled in a large heap and burned the enemy’s spoils, vowed as an offering to Vulcan, proceeded to lead his army onward into the Sabine territory. And though the operation had been unsuccessfully carried out, and they could not hope for better success; yet, because the state of affairs did not allow time for deliberation, the Sabines came out to meet him with a hastily raised army. Being again routed there, as the situa­tion had now become almost desperate, they sued for peace.

Collatia and all the land round about was taken from the Sabines, and Egerius, son of the king’s brother, was left there in garrison. I learn that the people of Collatia were surrendered, and that the form of the surrender was as follows. The king asked them, “ Are ye ambassadors and deputies sent by the people of Collatia to surrender yourselves and the people of Collatia? ” “ We are.” “ Are the people of Collatia their own masters? ” “ They are.” “ Do ye surrender yourselves and the people of Collatia, their city, lands, water, boundaries, temples, utensils, and everything sacred or profane belonging to them, into my power, and that of the Roman people? ” “ We do.” “ Then I receive them.” When the Sabine war was finished, Tarquin returned in triumph to Rome. After that he made war upon the ancient Latins, wherein they came on no occasion to a decisive engagement; yet, by shifting his attack to the several towns, he subdued the whole Latin nation. Corniculum, old Ficulea, Cameria, Crustumerium, Ameriola, Medullia, and Nomentum, towns which either belonged to the ancient Latins, or which had revolted to them, were taken from them. Upon this, peace was concluded. Works of peace were then commenced with even greater spirit than the efforts with which he had conducted his wars, so that the people enjoyed no more repose at home than it had already enjoyed abroad; for he set about surrounding the city with a stone wall, on the side where he had not yet fortified it, the beginning of which work had been interrupted by the Sabine war; and the lower parts of the city round the forum, and the other valleys lying between the hills, because they could not easily carry off the water from the flat grounds, he drained by means of sewers conducted down a slope into the Tiber. He also levelled an open space for a temple of Jupiter in the Capitol, which he had vowed to him in the Sabine war: as his mind even then forecast the future grandeur of the place, he took possession of the site by laying its foundations.

At that time a prodigy was seen in the palace, which was marvellous in its result. It is related that the head of a boy, called Servius Tullius, as he lay asleep, blazed with fire in the presence of several spectators: that, on a great noise being made at so miraculous a phenomenon, the king and queen were awakened: and when one of the servants was bringing water to put out the flame, that he was kept back by the queen, and after the disturbance was quieted, that she forbade the boy to be disturbed till he should awaken of his own accord. As soon as he awoke the flame disappeared. Then Tanaquil, taking her husband apart, said: “ Do you see this boy whom we are bringing up in so mean a style? Be assured that some time hereafter he will be a light to us in our adversity, and a protector of our royal house when in distress. Henceforth let us, with all the tenderness we can, train up this youth, who is destined to prove the source of great glory to our family and state.” From this time the boy began to be treated as their own son, and instructed in those accomplishments by which men’s minds are roused to maintain high rank with dignity. This was easily done, as it was agreeable to the gods. The young man turned out to be of truly royal disposition: nor when a son-in-law was being sought for Tarquin, could any of the Roman youth be compared to him in any accomplish­ment : therefore the king betrothed his own daughter to him. The fact of this high honour being conferred upon him, from whatever cause, forbids us to believe that he was the son of a slave, or that he had himself been a slave when young. I am rather of the opinion of those who say that, on the taking of Corniculum, the wife of Servius Tullius, who had been the leading man in that city, being pregnant when her husband was slain, since she was known among the other female prisoners, and, in consequence of her distinguished rank, exempt­ed from servitude by the Roman queen, was delivered of a child at Rome, in the house of Tarquinius Priscus: upon this, that both the intimacy between the women was increased by so great a kindness, and that the boy, as he had been brought up in the family from his infancy, was beloved and respected; that his mother’s lot, in having fallen into the hands of the enemy after the capture of her native city, caused him to be thought to be the son of a slave.

About the thirty-eighth year of Tarquin’s reign, Servius Tullius enjoyed the highest esteem, not only of the king, but also of the senate and people. At this time the two sons of Ancus, though they had before that always considered it the highest indignity that they had been deprived of their father’s crown by the treachery of their guardian, that a stranger should be King of Rome, who not only did not belong to a neighbouring, but not even to an Italian family, now felt their indignation roused to a still higher pitch at the idea that the crown would not only not revert to them after Tarquin, but would descend even lower to slaves, so that in the same state, about the hundredth year after Romulus, descended from a deity, and a deity himself, had occupied the throne as long as he lived, Servius, one born of a slave, would possess it: that it would be the common disgrace both of the Roman name, and more especially of their family, if, while there was male issue of King Ancus still living, the sovereignty of Rome should be accessible not only to strangers, but even to slaves. They determined therefore to prevent that disgrace by the sword. But since resentment for the injury done to them incensed them more against Tarquin himself, than against Servius, and the consideration that a king was likely to prove a more severe avenger of the murder, if he should survive, than a private person ; and moreover, even if Servius were put to death, it seemed likely that he would adopt as his successor on the throne whomsoever else he might have selected as his son-in-law. For these reasons the plot was laid against the king himself. Two of the most brutal of the shepherds, chosen for the deed, each carrying with him the iron tools of husband­men to the use of which he had been accustomed, by creating as great a disturbance as they could in the porch of the palace, under pretence of a quarrel, attracted the attention of all the king’s attendants to themselves; then, when both appealed to the king, and their clamour had reached even the interior of the palace, they were summoned and proceeded before him. At first both shouted aloud, and vied in clamouring against each other, until, being restrained by the lictor, and commanded to speak in turns, they at length ceased railing: as agreed upon, one began to state his case. While the king’s attention, eagerly directed toward the speaker, was diverted from the second shepherd, the latter, raising up his axe, brought it down upon the king’s head, and, leaving the weapon in the wound, both rushed out of the palace.

When those around had raised up Tarquin in a dying state, the lictors seized the shepherds, who were endeavouring to escape. Upon this an uproar ensued and a concourse of people assembled, wondering what was the matter. Tanaquil, amid the tumult, ordered the palace to be shut, and thrust out all spectators: at the same time she carefully prepared everything necessary for dressing the wound, as if a hope still remained: at the same time, she provided other means of safety, in case her hopes should prove false. Having hastily summoned Servius, after she had shown him her husband almost at his last gasp, holding his right hand, she entreated him not to suffer the death of his father-in-law to pass unavenged, nor to allow his mother-in-law to be an object of scorn to their enemies. “ Servius,” said she, “if you are a man, the kingdom belongs to you, not to those, who, by the hands of others, have perpetrated a most shameful deed. Rouse yourself, and follow the guidance of the gods, who portended that this head of yours would be illustrious by formerly shed­ding a divine blaze around it. Now let that celestial flame arouse you. Now awake in earnest. We, too, though foreigners, have reigned. Consider who you are, not whence you are sprung. If your own plans are rendered useless by reason of the suddenness of this event, then follow mine.” When the uproar and violence of the multitude could scarcely be endured, Tanaquil addressed the populace from the upper part of the palace through the windows facing the New Street (for the royal residence was near the Temple of Jupiter Stator). She bade them be of good courage; that the king was merely stunned by the suddenness of the blow; that the weapon had not sunk deep into his body; that he had already come to his senses again; that the blood had been wiped off and the wound examined; that all the symptoms were favourable; that she. was confident they would see him in person very soon; that, in the meantime, he commanded the people to obey the orders of Servius Tullius; that the latter would ad­minister justice, and perform all the other functions of the king. Servius came forth wearing the trabea and attended by lictors, and seating himself on the king’s throne, decided some cases, and with respect to others pretended that he would consult the king. Therefore, though Tarquin had now expired, his death was concealed for several days, and Servius, under pretence of discharging the functions of another, strengthened his own influence. Then at length the fact of his death was made public, lamentations being raised in the palace. Servius, supported by a strong body-guard, took possession of the kingdom by the consent of the senate, being the first who did so without the order of the people. The children of Ancus, the instruments of their villainy having been by this time caught, as soon as it was announced that the king still lived, and that the power of Servius was so great, had already gone into exile to Suessa Pometia.

And now Servius began to strengthen his power, not more by public than by private measures; and, that the children of Tarquin might not entertain the same feelings toward himself as the children of Ancus had entertained toward Tarquin, he united his two daughters in marriage to the young princes, the Tarquinii, Lucius and Arruns. He did not, however, break through the inevitable decrees of fate by human counsels, so as to prevent jealousy of the sovereign power creating general animosity and treachery even among the members of his own family. Very opportunely for the immediate preservation of tranquility, a war was undertaken against the Veientes (for the truce had now expired) and the other Etruscans. In that war, both the valour and good fortune of Tullius were conspicuous, and he returned to Rome, after routing a large army of the enemy, undisputed king, whether he tested the dispositions of the fathers or the people. He then set about a work of peace of the utmost importance: that, as Numa had been the author of religious institutions, so posterity might celebrate Servius as the founder of all distinction in the state, and of the several orders by which any difference is perceptible between the degrees of rank and fortune. For he instituted the census, a most salutary measure for an empire destined to become so great, according to which the services of war and peace were to be performed, not by every man, as formerly, but in proportion to his amount of property. Then he divided the classes and centuries according to the census, and introduced the following arrangement, eminently adapted either for peace or war.

Of those who possessed property to the value of a hundred thousand asses and upward, he formed eighty centuries, forty of seniors and forty of juniors. All these were called the first class, the seniors to be in readiness to guard the city, the juniors to carry on war abroad. The arms they were ordered to wear consisted of a helmet, a round shield, greaves, and a coat of mail, all of brass; these were for the defence of the body: their weapons of offence were a spear and a sword. To this class were added two centuries of mechanics, who were to serve without arms: the duty imposed upon them was that of making military engines in time of war. The second class included all those whose property varied between seventy-five and a hundred thousand asses, and of these, seniors and juniors, twenty centuries were enrolled. The arms they were ordered to wear consisted of a buckler instead of a shield, and, except a coat of mail, all the rest were the same. He decided that the property of the third class should amount to fifty thousand asses : the number of its centuries was the same, and formed with the same distinction of age: nor was there any change in their arms, only the greaves were dispensed with. In the fourth class, the property was twenty-five thousand asses: the same number of centuries was formed, their arms were changed, nothing being given them but a spear and a short javelin. The fifth class was larger, thirty centuries being formed: these carried slings and stones for throwing. Among them the supernumeraries, the horn-blowers and the trumpeters, were distributed into three centuries. This class was rated at eleven thousand asses. Property lower than this embraced the rest of the citizens, and of them one century was made up which was exempted from military service. Having thus arranged and distributed the infantry, he enrolled twelve centuries of knights from among the chief men of the state. While Romulus had only, appointed three centuries, Servius formed six others under the same names as they had received at their first institution. Ten thousand asses were given them out of the public revenue, to buy horses, and a number of widows assigned them, who were to contribute two thousand asses yearly for the support of the horses. All these burdens were taken off the poor and laid on the rich. Then an additional honour was conferred upon them: for the suffrage was not now granted promiscuously to all—a custom established by Romulus, and observed by his successors—to every man with the same privilege and the same right, but gradations were established, so that no one might seem excluded from the right of voting, and yet the whole power might reside in the chief men of the state. For the knights were first called to vote, and then the eighty centuries of the first class, consisting of the first class of the infantry: if there occurred a difference of opinion among them, which was seldom the case, the practice was that those of the second class should be called, and that they seldom descended so low as to come down to the lowest class. Nor need we be surprised, that the present order of things, which now exists, after the number of the tribes was increased to thirty-five, their number being now double of what it was, should not agree as to the number of centuries of juniors and seniors with the collective number instituted by Servius Tullius. For the city being divided into four districts, according to the regions and hills which were then inhabited, he called these divisions tribes, as I think, from the tribute. For the method of levying taxes ratably according to the value of property was also introduced by him: nor had these tribes any relation to the number and distribution of the centuries.

The census being now completed, which he had brought to a speedy close by the terror of a law passed in reference to those who were not rated, under threats of imprisonment and death, he issued a proclamation that all the Roman citizens, horse and foot, should attend at daybreak in the Campus Martius, each in his century. There he reviewed the whole army drawn up in centuries, and purified it by the rite called Suovetaurilia, and that was called the closing of the lustrum, because it was the conclusion of the census. Eighty thousand citizens are said to have been rated in that survey. Fabius Pictor, the most ancient of our historians, adds that that was the number of those who were capable of bearing arms. To accommodate that vast population the city also seemed to require enlargement. He took in two hills, the Quirinal and Viminal; then next he enlarged the Esquiline, and took up his own residence there, in order that dignity might be conferred upon the place. He surrounded the city with a rampart, a moat, and a wall: thus he enlarged the pomerium. Those who regard only the etymology of the word, will have the pomerium to be a space of ground behind the walls: whereas it is rather a space on each side of the wall, which the Etruscans, in building cities, formerly consecrated by augury, within certain limits, both within and without, in the direction they intended to raise the wall: so that the houses might not be erected close to the walls on the inside, as people commonly unite them now, and also that there might be some space without left free from human occupation. This space, which was forbidden to be tilled or inhabited, the Romans called pomerium, not so much from its being behind the wall, as from the wall being behind it: and in enlarging the boundaries of the city, these consecrated limits were always extended, as far as the walls were intended to be advanced.

When the population had been increased in consequence of the enlargement of the city, and everything had been organized at home to meet the exigencies both of peace and war, that the acquisition of power might not always depend on mere force of arms, he endeavoured to extend his empire by policy, and at the same time to add some ornament to the city. The Temple of Diana at Ephesus was even then in high renown; it was reported that it had been built by all the states of Asia in common. When Servius, in the company of some Latin nobles with whom he had purposely formed ties of hospitality and friendship, both in public and private, extolled in high terms such harmony and association of their gods, by frequently harping upon the same subject, he at length prevailed so far that the Latin states agreed to build a temple of Diana at Rome in conjunction with the Roman people. This was an acknowledgment that the headship of affairs, concerning which they had so often disputed in arms, was centred in Rome. An accidental opportunity of recovering power by a scheme of his own seemed to present itself to one of the Sabines, though that object appears to have been left out of consideration by all the Latins, in consequence of the matter having been so often attempted unsuccessfully by arms. A cow of surprising size and beauty is said to have been calved to a cer­tain Sabine, the head of a family: her horns, which were hung up in the porch of the Temple of Diana, remained for many ages, to bear record to this marvel. The thing was regarded in the light of a prodigy, as indeed it was, and the soothsayers declared that sovereignty should reside in that state, a citizen of which had sacrificed this heifer to Diana. This prediction had also reached the ears of the high priest of the Temple of Diana. The Sabine, as soon as a suitable day for the sacrifice seemed to have arrived, drove the cow to Rome, led her to the Temple of Diana, and set her before the altar. There the Roman priest, struck with the size of the victim, so celebrated by fame, mindful of the response of the soothsayers, thus accosted the Sabine : “ What dost thou intend to do, stranger? ” said he; “ with impure hands to offer sacrifice to Diana ? Why dost not thou first wash thyself in running water? The Tiber runs past at the bottom of the valley.” The stranger, seized with religious awe, since he was desirous of everything being done in due form, that the event might correspond with the prediction, forthwith went down to the Tiber. In the meantime the Roman priest sacrificed the cow to Diana, which gave great satisfaction to the king, and to the whole state.

Servius, though he had now acquired an indisputable right to the kingdom by long possession, yet, as he heard that expressions were sometimes thrown out by young Tarquin, to the effect that he occupied the throne without the consent of the people, having first secured the good-will of the people by dividing among them, man by man, the land taken from their enemies, he ventured to propose the question to them, whether they chose and ordered that he should be king, and was declared king with greater unanimity than any other of his predecessors. And yet even this circumstance did not lessen Tarquin’s hope of obtaining the throne; nay, because he had observed that the matter of the distribution of land to the people was against the will of the fathers, he thought that an opportunity was now presented to him of arraigning Servius before the fathers with greater violence, and of increasing his own influence in the senate, being himself a hot-tempered youth, while his wife Tullia roused his restless temper at home. For the royal house of the Roman kings also exhibited an example of tragic guilt, so that through their disgust of kings, liberty came more speedily, and the rule of this king, which was attained through crime, was the last. This Lucius Tarquinius (whether he was the son or grandson of Tarquinius Priscus is not clear: following the greater number of authori­ties, however, I should feel inclined to pronounce him his son) had a brother, Arruns Tarquinius, a youth of a mild disposition. To these two, as has been already stated, the two Tullias, daughters of the king, had been married, they also them­selves being of widely different characters. It had come to pass, through the good fortune, I believe, of the Roman people, that two violent dispositions should not be united in marriage, in order that the reign of Servius might last longer, and the constitution of the state be firmly established. The haughty spirit of Tullia was chagrined, that there was no predisposition in her husband, either to ambition or daring. Directing all her regard to the other Tarquinius, him she admired, him she declared to be a man, and sprung from royal blood; she expressed her contempt for her sister, because, having a man for her husband, she lacked that spirit of daring that a woman ought to possess. Similarity of disposition soon drew them together, as wickedness is in general most congenial to wickedness; but the beginning of the general confusion originated with the woman. Accustomed to the secret conversations of the husband of another, there was no abusive language that she did not use about her husband to his brother, about her sister to her sister’s husband, asserting that it would have been better for herself to remain unmarried, and he single, than that she should be united with one who was no fit mate for her, so that her life had to be passed in utter inactivity by reason of the cowardice of another. If the gods had granted her the husband she deserved, she would soon have seen the crown in possession of her own house, which she now saw in possession of her father. She soon filled the young man with her own daring. Lucius Tarquinius and the younger Tullia, when the pair had, by almost simultaneous murders, made their houses vacant for new nuptials, were united in marriage, Servius rather offering no opposition than actually approving.

Then indeed the old age of Tullius began to be every day more endangered, his throne more imperilled. For now the woman from one crime directed her thoughts to another, and allowed her husband no rest either by night or by day, that their past crimes might not prove unprofitable, saying that what she wanted was not one whose wife she might be only in name, or one with whom she might live an inactive life of slavery: what she wanted was one who would consider himself worthy of the throne, who would remember that he was the son of Tarquinius Priscus, who would rather have a kingdom than hope for it. “ If you, to whom I consider myself married, are such a one, I greet you both as husband and king; but if not, our condition has been changed so far for the worse, in that in you crime is associated with cowardice. Why do you not gird yourself to the task? You need not, like your father, from Corinth or Tarquinii, struggle for a kingdom in a foreign land. Your household and country’s gods, the statue of your father, the royal palace and the kingly throne in that palace, and the Tarquinian name, elect and call you king. Or if you have too little spirit for this, why do you disappoint the state? Why suffer yourself to be looked up to as a prince ? Get hence to Tarquinii or Corinth. Sink back again to your original stock, more like your brother than your father.” By chiding him with these and other words, she urged on the young man: nor could she rest herself, at the thought that though Tanaquil, a woman of foreign birth, had been able to conceive and carry out so vast a project, as to bestow two thrones in succession on her husband, and then on her son-in-law, she, sprung from royal blood, had no decisive influence in bestowing and taking away a kingdom. Tarquinius, driven on by the blind passion of the woman, began to go round and solicit the support of the patricians, especially those of the younger families: he reminded them of his father’s kindness, and claimed a return for it, enticed the young men by presents, increased his influence everywhere both by making magnificent promises on his own part, as well as by accusations against the king. At length, as soon as the time seemed convenient for carrying out his purpose, he rushed into the forum, accompanied by a band of armed men; then, while all were struck with dismay, seating himself on the throne before the senate-house, he ordered the fathers to be summoned to the senate-house by the crier to attend King Tarquinius. They assembled immediately, some having been already prepared for this, others through fear, lest it should prove dangerous to them not to have come, astounded at such a strange and unheard-of event, and considering that the reign of Servius was now at an end. Then Tarquinius began his invectives with his immediate ancestors: That a slave, the son of a slave, after the shameful death of his father, without an interregnum being adopted, as on former occasions, without any election being held, without the suffrages of the people, or the. sanction of the fathers, he had taken possession of the kingdom by the gift of a woman; that so born, so created king, a strong supporter of the most degraded class, to which he himself belonged, through a hatred of the high station of others, he had deprived the leading men of the state of their land and divided it among the very lowest; that he had laid all the burdens, which were formerly shared by all alike, on the chief members of the community; that he had instituted the census, in order that the fortune of the wealthier citizens might be conspicuous in order to excite envy, and ready to hand, that out of it he might bestow largesses on the most needy, whenever he pleased.

Servius, aroused by the alarming announcement, having come upon the scene during this harangue, immediately shouted with a loud voice from the porch of the senate-house: “What means this, Tarquin? by what audacity hast thou dared to summon the fathers, while I am still alive, or to sit on my throne? ” When the other haughtily replied, that he, a king’s son, was occupying the throne of his father, a much fitter successor to the throne than a slave; that he had insulted his masters full long enough by shuffling insolence, a shout arose from the partisans of both, the people rushed into the senate-house, and it was evident that whoever came off victor would gain the throne. Then Tarquin, forced by actual necessity to proceed to extremities, having a decided advantage both in years and strength, seized Servius by the waist, and having carried him out of the senate-house, hurled him down the steps to the bottom. He then returned to the senate-house to assemble the senate. The king’s officers and attendants took to flight. The king himself, almost lifeless (when he was returning home with his royal retinue frightened to death and had reached the top of the Cyprian Street), was slain by those who had been sent by Tarquin, and had overtaken him in his flight. As the act is not inconsistent with the rest of her atrocious conduct, it is believed to have been done by Tullia’s advice. Anyhow, as is generally admitted, driving into the forum in her chariot, unabashed by the crowd of men present, she called her husband out of the senate-house, and was the first to greet him, king; and when, being bidden by him to withdraw from such a tumult, she was returning home, and had reached the top of the Cyprian Street, where Diana’s chapel lately stood, as she was turning on the right to the Urian Hill, in order to ride up to the Esquiline, the driver stopped terrified, and drew in his reins, and pointed out to his mistress the body of the murdered Servius lying on the ground. On this occasion a revolting and inhuman crime is said to have been committed, and the place bears record of it. They call it the Wicked Street, where Tullia, frantic and urged on by the avenging furies of her sister and husband, is said to have driven her chariot over her father’s body, and to have carried a portion of the blood of her murdered father on her blood-stained chariot, herself also defiled and sprinkled with it, to her own and her husband’s household gods, through whose vengeance results corresponding with the evil beginning of the reign were soon destined to follow. Ser­vius Tullius reigned forty-four years in such a manner that it was no easy task even for a good and moderate successor to compete with him. However, this also has proved an additional source of renown to him, that together with him perished all just and legitimate reigns. This same authority, so mild and so moderate, because it was vested in one man, some say that he nevertheless had intended to resign, had not the wickedness of his family interfered with him as he was forming plans for the liberation of his country.

After this period Lucius Tarquinius began to reign, whose acts procured him the surname of Proud, for he, the son-in-law, refused his father-in-law burial, alleging that even Rom­ulus was not buried after death. He put to death the principal senators, whom he suspected of having favoured the cause of Servius. Then, conscious that the precedent of obtaining the crown by evil means might be borrowed from him and employed against himself, he surrounded his person with a body-guard of armed men, for he had no claim to the kingdom except force, as being one who reigned without either the order of the people or the sanction of the senate. To this was added the fact that, as he reposed no hope in the affection of his citizens, he had to secure his kingdom by terror; and in order to inspire a greater number with this, he carried out the investigation of capital cases solely by himself without assessors, and under that pretext had it in his power to put to death, banish, or fine, not only those who were suspected or hated, but those also from whom he could expect to gain nothing else but plunder. The number of the fathers more particularly being in this manner diminished, he determined to elect none into the senate in their place, that the order might become more contemptible owing to this very reduction in numbers, and that it might feel the less resentment at no busi­ness being transacted by it. For he was the first of the kings who violated the custom derived from his predecessors of consulting the senate on all matters, and administered the business of the state by taking counsel with his friends alone. War, peace, treaties, alliances, all these he contracted and dissolved with whomsoever he pleased, without the sanction of the people and senate, entirely on his own responsibility. The nation of the Latins he was particularly anxious to attach to him, so that by foreign influence also he might be more secure among his own subjects; and he contracted ties not only of hospitality but also of marriage with their leading men. On Octavius Mamilius of Tusculum, who was by far the most eminent of those who bore the Latin name, being de­scended, if we believe tradition, from Ulysses and the god­dess Circe, he bestowed his daughter in marriage, and by this match attached to himself many of his kinsmen and friends.

The influence of Tarquin among the chief men of the Latins being now considerable, he issued an order that they should assemble on a certain day at the grove of Ferentina, saying that there were matters of common interest about which he wished to confer with them. They assembled in great numbers at daybreak. Tarquinius himself kept the day indeed, but did not arrive until shortly before sunset. Many matters were there discussed in the meeting throughout the day in various conversations. Turnus Herdonius of Aricia inveighed violently against the absent Tarquin, saying that it was no wonder the surname of Proud was given him at Rome; for so they now called him secretly and in whispers, but still generally. Could anything show more haughtiness than this insolent mockery of the entire Latin nation? After their chiefs had been summoned so great a distance from home, he who had proclaimed the meeting did not attend; as­suredly their patience was being tried, in order that, if they submitted to the yoke, he might crush them when at his mercy. For who could fail to see that he was aiming at sov­ereignty over the Latins ? This sovereignty, if his own countrymen had done well in having intrusted it to him, or if it had been intrusted and not seized on by murder, the Latins also ought to intrust to him (and yet not even so, inasmuch as he was a foreigner). But if his own subjects were dissatisfied with him (seeing that they were butchered one after another, driven into exile, and deprived of their property), what better prospects were held out to the Latins? If they listened to him, they would depart thence, each to his own home, and take no more notice of the day of meeting than he who had proclaimed it. When this man, mutinous and full of daring, and one who had obtained influence at home by such methods, was pressing these and other observations to the same effect, Tarquin appeared on the scene. This put an end to his harangue. All turned away from him to salute Tarquin, who, on silence being proclaimed, being advised by those next him to make some excuse for having come so late, said that he had been chosen arbitrator between a father and a son: that, from his anxiety to reconcile them, he had delayed: and, because that duty had taken up that day, that on the morrow he would carry out what he had determined. They say that he did not make even that observation unrebuked by Turnus, who declared that no controversy could be more quickly decided than one between father and son, and that it could be settled in a few words—unless the son submitted to the father, he would be punished.

The Arician withdrew from the meeting, uttering these reproaches against the Roman king. Tarquin, feeling the matter much more sorely than he seemed to, immediately set about planning the death of Turnus, in order to inspire the Latins with the same terror as that with which he had crushed the spirits of his own subjects at home: and because he could not be put to death openly, by virtue of his authority, he accomplished the ruin of this innocent man by bringing a false charge against him. By means of some Aricians of the op­posite party, he bribed a servant of Turnus with gold, to allow a great number of swords to be secretly brought into his lodging. When these preparations had been completed in the course of a single night, Tarquin, having summoned the chiefs of the Latins to him a little before day, as if alarmed by some strange occurrence, said that his delay of yesterday, which had been caused as it were by some providential care of the gods, had been the means of preservation to himself and to them; that he had been told that destruction was being plotted by Turnus for him and the chiefs of the Latin peoples, that he alone might obtain the government of the Latins. That he would have attacked them yesterday at the meeting; that the attempt had been deferred, because the person who summoned the meeting was absent, who was the chief object of his attack. That that was the reason of the abuse heaped upon him during his absence, because he had disappointed his hopes by delaying. That he had no doubt that, if the truth were told him, he would come attended by a band of conspirators, at break of day, when the assembly met, ready prepared and armed. That it was reported that a great number of swords had been conveyed to his house. Whether that was true or not, could be known immediately. He requested them to accompany him thence to the house of Turnus. Both the daring temper of Turnus, and his harangue of the previous day, and the delay of Tarquin, rendered the matter suspicious, because it seemed possible that the murder might have been put off in consequence of the latter. They started with minds inclined in­deed to believe, yet determined to consider everything else false, unless the swords were found. When they arrived there, Turnus was aroused from sleep, and surrounded by guards: the slaves, who, from affection to their master, were preparing to use force, being secured, and the swords, which had been concealed, drawn out from all corners of the lodging, then in­deed there seemed no doubt about the matter: Turnus was loaded with chains, and forthwith a meeting of the Latins was summoned amid great confusion. There, on the swords be­ing exhibited in the midst, such violent hatred arose against him, that, without being allowed a defence, he was put to death in an unusual manner; he was thrown into the basin of the spring of Ferentina, a hurdle was placed over him, and stones being heaped up in it, he was drowned.

Tarquin then recalled the Latins to the meeting, and having applauded them for having inflicted well-merited punishment on Turnus, as one convicted of murder, by his attempt to bring about a change of government, spoke as follows: That he could indeed proceed by a long-established right; because, since all the Latins were sprung from Alba, they were comprehended in that treaty by which, dating from the time of Tullus, the entire Alban nation, with its colonies, had passed under the dominion of Rome. However, for the sake of the interest of all parties, he thought rather that that treaty should be renewed, and that the Latins should rather share in the enjoyment of the prosperity of the Roman people, than be constantly either apprehending or suffering the demolition of their towns and the devastation of their lands, which they had formerly suffered in the reign of Ancus, and afterward in the reign of his own father. The Latins were easily persuaded, though in that treaty the advantage lay on the side of Rome: however, they both saw that the chiefs of the Latin nation sided with and supported the king, and Turnus was a warning example, still fresh in their recollections, of the danger that threatened each individually, if he should make any opposition. Thus the treaty was renewed, and notice was given to the young men of the Latins that, according to the treaty, they should attend in considerable numbers in arms, on a certain day, at the grove of Ferentina. And when they assembled from all the states according to the edict of the Roman king, in order that they should have neither a general of their own, nor a separate command, nor standards of their own, he formed mixed companies of Latins and Romans so as out of a pair of companies to make single companies, and out of single companies to make a pair: and when the com­panies had thus been doubled, he appointed centurions over them.

Nor was Tarquin, though a tyrannical prince in time of peace, an incompetent general in war; nay, he would have equalled his predecessors in that art, had not his degeneracy in other ways likewise detracted from his merit in this respect. He first began the war against the Volsci, which was to last two hundred years after his time, and took Suessa Pometia from them by storm; and when by the sale of the spoils he had realized forty talents of silver, he conceived the idea of building a temple to Jupiter on such a magnificent scale that it should be worthy of the king of gods and men, of the Roman Empire, and of the dignity of the place itself: for the building of this temple he set apart the money realized by the sale of the spoils. Soon after a war claimed his attention, which proved more protracted than he had expected, in which, having in vain, attempted to storm Gabii, a city in the neighbourhood, when, after suffering a repulse from the walls, he was deprived also of all hope of taking it by siege, he assailed it by fraud and stratagem, a method by no means natural to the Romans. For when, as if the war had been abandoned, he pretended to be busily engaged in laying the foundations of the temple, and with other works in the city, Sextus, the youngest of his three sons, according to a preconcerted arrangement, fled to Gabii, complaining of the unbearable cruelty of his father toward himself: that his tyranny had now shifted from others against his own family, and that he was also uneasy at the number of his own children, and intended to bring about the same desolation in his own house as he had done in the senate, in order that he might leave behind him no issue, no heir to his kingdom. That for his own part, as he had escaped from the midst of the swords and weapons of his father, he was persuaded he could find no safety anywhere save among the enemies of Lucius Tarquinius: for— let them make no mistake—the war, which it was now pre­tended had been abandoned, still threatened them, and he would attack them when off their guard on a favourable opportunity. But if there were no refuge for suppliants among them, he would traverse all Latium, and would apply next to the Volscians, Aequans, and Hernicans, until he should come to people who knew how to protect children from the im­ and cruel persecutions of parents. That perhaps he would even find some eagerness to take up arms and wage war against this most tyrannical king and his equally savage subjects. As he seemed likely to go further, enraged as he was, if they paid him no regard, he was kindly received by the Gabians. They bade him not be surprised, if one at last behaved in the same manner toward his children as he had done toward his subjects and allies—that he would ultimately vent his rage on himself, if other objects failed him—that his own coming was very acceptable to them, and they believed that in a short time it would come to pass that by his aid the war would be transferred from the gates of Gabii up to the very walls of Rome.

Upon this, he was admitted into their public councils, in which, while, with regard to other matters, he declared himself willing to submit to the judgment of the elders of Gabii, who were better acquainted with them, yet he every now and again advised them to renew the war, claiming for himself superior knowledge in this, on the ground of being well acquainted with the strength of both nations, and also because he knew that the king’s pride, which even his own children had been unable to endure, had become decidedly hateful to his subjects. As he thus by degrees stirred up the nobles of the Gabians to renew the war, and himself accompanied the most active of their youth on plundering parties and expeditions, and unreasonable credit was increasingly given to all his words and actions, framed as they were with the object of deceiving, he was at last chosen general-in-chief in the war. In the course of this war when—the people being still ignorant of what was going on—trifling skirmishes with the Romans took place, in which the Gabians generally had the advantage, then all the Gabians, from the highest to the lowest, were eager to believe that Sextus Tarquinius had been sent to them as their general, by the favour of the gods. By exposing himself equally with the soldiers to fatigues and dangers, and by his generosity in bestowing the plunder, he became so loved by the soldiers, that his father Tarquin had not greater power at Rome than his son at Gabii. Accordingly, when he saw he had sufficient strength collected to support him in any undertaking, he sent one of his confidants to his father at Rome to inquire what he wished him to do, seeing the gods had granted him to be all-powerful at Gabii. To this courier no answer by word of mouth was given, because, I suppose, he appeared of questionable fidelity. The king went into a garden of the palace, as if in deep thought, followed by his son’s messenger; walking there for some time without uttering a word, he is said to have struck off the heads of the tallest poppies with his staff. The messenger, wearied with ask­ing and waiting for an answer, returned to Gabii apparently without having accomplished his object, and told what he had himself said and seen, adding that Tarquin, either through passion, aversion to him, or his innate pride, had not uttered a single word. As soon as it was clear to Sextus what his father wished, and what conduct he enjoined by those intimations without words, he put to death the most eminent men of the city, some by accusing them before the people, as well as others, who from their own personal unpopularity were liable to attack. Many were executed publicly, and some, in whose case impeachment was likely to prove less plausible, were secretly assassinated. Some who wished to go into voluntary exile were allowed to do so, others were banished, and their estates, as well as the estates of those who were put to death, publicly divided in their absence. Out of these largesses and plunder were distributed; and by the sweets of private gain the sense of public calamities became extinguished, till the state of Gabii, destitute of counsel and assistance, surrendered itself without a struggle into the power of the Roman king.

Tarquin, having thus gained possession of Gabii, made peace with the nation of the Aequi, and renewed the treaty with the Etruscans. He next turned his attention to the affairs of the city. The chief of these was that of leaving behind him the Temple of Jupiter on the Tarpeian Mount, as a monument of his name and reign; to remind posterity that of two Tarquinii, both kings, the father had vowed, the son completed it. Further, that the open space, to the exclusion of all other forms of worship, might be entirely appropriated to Jupiter and his temple, which was to be erected upon it, he resolved to cancel the inauguration of the small temples and chapels, several of which had been first vowed by King Tatius, in the crisis of the battle against Romulus, and afterward consecrated and dedicated by him. At the very outset of the foundation of this work it is said that the gods exerted their divinity to declare the future greatness of so mighty an em­pire; for, though the birds declared for the unhallowing of all the other chapels, they did not declare themselves in favour of it in the case of that of Terminus. This omen and augury were taken to import that the fact of Terminus not changing his residence, and that he was the only one of the gods who was not called out of the consecrated bounds devoted to his worship, was a presage of the lasting stability of the state in general. This being accepted as an omen of its lasting character, there followed another prodigy portending the greatness of the empire. It was reported that the head of a man, with the face entire, was found by the workmen when digging the foundation of the temple. The sight of this phenomenon by no doubtful indications portended that this temple should be the seat of empire, and the capital of the world; and so declared the soothsayers, both those who were in the city, and those whom they had summoned from Etruria, to consult on this subject. The king’s mind was thereby en­couraged to greater expense; in consequence of which the spoils of Pometia, which had been destined to complete the work, scarcely sufficed for laying the foundation. On this account I am more inclined to believe Fabius (not to mention his being the more ancient authority), that there were only forty talents, than Piso, who says that forty thousand pounds of silver by weight were set apart for that purpose, a sum of money neither to be expected from the spoils of any one city in those times, and one that would more than suffice for the foundations of any building, even the magnificent buildings of the present day.

Tarquin, intent upon the completion of the temple, having sent for workmen from all parts of Etruria, employed on it not only the public money, but also workmen from the peo­ple; and when this labour, in itself no inconsiderable one, was added to their military service, still the people murmured less at building the temples of the gods with their own hands, than at being transferred, as they afterward were, to other works, which, while less dignified, required considerably greater toil; such were the erection of benches in the circus, and conducting underground the principal sewer, the receptacle of all the filth of the city; two works the like of which even modern splendour has scarcely been able to produce. After the people had been employed in these works, because he both considered that such a number of inhabitants was a burden to. the city where there was no employment for them, and further, was anxious that the frontiers of the empire should be more extensively occupied by sending colonists, he sent colonists to Signia and Circeii, to serve as defensive outposts hereafter to the city on land and sea. While he was thus employed a frightful prodigy appeared to him. A serpent gliding out of a wooden pillar, after causing dismay and flight in the palace, not so much struck the king’s heart with sudden terror, as it filled him with anxious solicitude. Accordingly, since Etruscan soothsayers were only employed for public prodigies, terrified at this so to say private apparition, he determined to send to the oracle of Delphi, the most celebrated in the world; and not venturing to intrust the responses of the oracle to any other person, he despatched his two sons to Greece through lands unknown at that time, and yet more unknown seas. Titus and Arruns were the two who set out. They were accompanied by Lucius Junius Brutus, the son of Tarquinia, the king’s sister, a youth of an entirely different cast of mind from that of which he had assumed the disguise. He, having heard that the chief men of the city, among them his own brother, had been put to death by his uncle, resolved to leave nothing in regard to his ability that might be dreaded by the king, nor anything in his fortune that might be coveted, and thus to be secure in the contempt in which he was held, seeing that there was but little protection in justice. Therefore, having designedly fashioned himself to the semblance of foolishness, and allowing himself and his whole estate to become the prey of the king, he did not refuse to take even the sur­name of Brutus, that, under the cloak of this surname, the genius that was to be the future liberator of the Roman people, lying concealed, might bide its opportunity. He, in reality being brought to Delphi by the Tarquinii rather as an object of ridicule than as a companion, is said to have borne with him as an offering to Apollo a golden rod, inclosed in a staff of cornel-wood hollowed out for the purpose, a mystical emblem of his own mind. When they arrived there, and had executed their father’s commission, the young men’s minds were seized with the desire of inquiring to which of them the sovereignty of Rome should fall. They say that the reply was uttered from the inmost recesses of the cave, “ Young men, whichever of you shall first kiss his mother shall enjoy the sovereign power at Rome.” The Tarquinii ordered the matter to be kept secret with the utmost care, that Sextus, who had been left behind at Rome, might be ignorant of the response of the oracle, and have no share in the kingdom; they then cast lots among themselves, to decide which of them should first kiss his mother, after they had returned to Rome. Brutus, thinking that the Pythian response had another meaning, as if he had stumbled and fallen, touched the ground with his lips, she being, forsooth, the common mother of all mankind. After this they returned to Rome, where preparations were being made with the greatest vigour for a war against the Rutulians.

The Rutulians, a very wealthy nation, considering the country and age in which they lived, were at that time in possession of Ardea. Their wealth was itself the actual occasion of the war: for the Roman king, whose resources had been drained by the magnificence of his public works, was desirous both of enriching himself, and also of soothing the minds of his subjects by a large present of booty, as they, independently of the other instances of his tyranny, were incensed against his government, because they felt indignant that they had been kept so long employed by the king as mechanics, and in labour only fit for slaves. An attempt was made, to see if Ardea could be taken at the first assault; when that proved unsuccessful, the enemy began to be distressed by a blockade, and by siege-works. In the standing camp, as usually hap­pens when a war is tedious rather than severe, furloughs were easily obtained, more so by the officers, however, than the common soldiers. The young princes also sometimes spent their leisure hours in feasting and mutual entertainments. One day as they were drinking in the tent of Sextus Tarquinius, where Collatinus Tarquinius, the son of Egerius, was also at supper, they fell to talking about their wives. Every one commended his own extravagantly: a dispute thereupon arising, Collatinus said there was no occasion for words, that it might be known in a few hours how far his wife Lucretia excelled all the rest. “ If, then,” added he, “ we have any youthful vigour, why should we not mount our horses and in person examine the behaviour of our wives? let that be the surest proof to every one, which shall meet his eyes on the unexpected arrival of the husband.” They were heated with wine. “ Come on, then,” cried all. They immediately galloped to Rome, where they arrived when darkness was beginning to fall. From thence they proceeded to Collatia, where they found Lucretia, not after the manner of the king’s daughters-in-law, whom they had seen spending their time in luxurious banqueting with their companions, but, although the night was far advanced, employed at her wool, sitting in the middle of the house in the midst of her maids who were working around her. The honour of the contest regarding the women rested with Lucretia. Her husband on his arrival, and the Tarquinii, were kindly received; the husband, proud of his victory, gave the young princes a polite invitation. There an evil desire of violating Lucretia by force seized Sextus Tarquinius; both her beauty, and her proved chastity urged him on. Then, after this youthful frolic of the night, they returned to the camp.

After an interval of a few days, Sextus Tarquinius, with­out the knowledge of Collatinus, came to Collatia with one attendant only: there he was made welcome by them, as they had no suspicion of his design, and, having been conducted after supper into the guest chamber, burning with passion, when all around seemed sufficiently secure, and all fast asleep, he came to the bedside of Lucretia, as she lay asleep, with a drawn sword, and with his left hand pressing down the woman’s breast, said: “ Be silent, Lucretia; I am Sextus Tarquinius. I have a sword in my hand. You shall die if you utter a word.” When the woman, awaking terrified from sleep, saw there was no help, and that impending death was nigh at hand, then Tarquin declared his passion, entreated, mixed threats with entreaties, tried all means to influence the woman’s mind. When he saw she was resolved, and uninfluenced even by the fear of death, to the fear of death he added the fear of dishonour, declaring that he would lay a murdered slave naked by her side when dead, so that it should be said that she had been slain in base adultery. When by the terror of this disgrace his lust (as it were victorious) had overcome her inflexible chastity, and Tarquin had departed, exulting in having triumphed over a woman’s honour by force, Lucretia, in melancholy distress at so dreadful a misfortune, despatched one and the same messenger both to her father at Rome, and to her husband at Ardea, bidding them come each with a trusty friend; that they must do so, and use de­spatch, for a monstrous deed had been wrought. Spurius Lucretius came accompanied by Publius Valerius, the son of Volesus, Collatinus with Lucius Junius Brutus, in company with whom, as he was returning to Rome, he happened to be met by his wife’s messenger. They found Lucretia sitting in her chamber in sorrowful dejection. On the arrival of her friends the tears burst from her eyes; and on her husband inquiring, whether all was well, “ By no means,” she replied, “ for how can it be well with a woman who has lost her honour? The traces of another man are on your bed, Collatinus. But the body only has been violated, the mind is guiltless; death shall be my witness. But give me your right hands, and your word of honour, that the adulterer shall not come off unpunished. It is Sextus Tarquinius, who, an enemy last night in the guise of a guest, has borne hence by force of arms, a triumph destructive to me, and one that will prove so to himself also, if you be men.” All gave their word in succession; they attempted to console her, grieved in heart as she was, by turning the guilt of the act from her, constrained as she had been by force, upon the perpetrator of the crime, declaring that it is the mind sins, not the body; and that where there is no intention, there is no guilt. “ It is for you to see,” said she, “ what is due to him. As for me, though I acquit myself of guilt, I do not discharge myself from punishment; nor shall any woman survive her dishonour by pleading the example of Lucretia.” She plunged a knife, which she kept concealed beneath her garment, into her heart, and falling forward on the wound, dropped down expiring. Her husband and father shrieked aloud.

While they were overwhelmed with grief, Brutus drew the knife out of the wound, and, holding it up before him reeking with blood, said: “ By this blood, most pure before the outrage of a prince, I swear, and I call you, O gods, to witness my oath, that I will henceforth pursue Lucius Tarquinius Superbus, his wicked wife, and all their children, with fire, sword, and all other violent means in my power; nor will I ever suffer them or any other to reign at Rome.” Then he gave the knife to Collatinus, and after him to Lucretius and Valerius, who were amazed at such an extraordinary occurrence, and could not understand the newly developed character of Brutus. However, they all took the oath as they were directed, and, their sorrow being completely changed to wrath, followed the lead of Brutus, who from that time ceased not to call upon them to abolish the regal power. They carried forth the body of Lucretia from her house, and conveyed it to the forum, where they caused a number of persons to assemble, as generally happens, by reason of the unheard-of and atrocious nature of an extraordinary occurrence. They complained, each for himself, of the royal villainy and violence. Both the grief of the father affected them, and also Brutus, who reproved their tears and unavailing complaints, and advised them to take up arms, as became men and Romans, against those who dared to treat them like enemies. All the most spirited youths voluntarily presented themselves in arms; the rest of the young men followed also. From thence, after an adequate garrison had been left at the gates at Collatia, and sentinels appointed, to prevent any one giving intelligence of the disturbance to the royal party, the rest set out for Rome in arms under the conduct of Brutus. When they arrived there, the armed multitude caused panic and confusion wherever they went. Again, when they saw the principal men of the state placing themselves at their head, they thought that, whatever it might be, it was not without good reason. Nor did the heinousness of the event excite less violent emotions at Rome than it had done at Collatia: accordingly, they ran from all parts of the city into the forum, and, as soon as they came thither, the public crier summoned them to attend the tribune of the celeres, with which office Brutus happened to be at the time invested. There a ha­rangue was delivered by him, by no means of the style and character which had been counterfeited by him up to that day, concerning the violence and lust of Sextus Tarquinius, the horrid violation of Lucretia and her lamentable death, the bereavement of Tricipitinus, in whose eyes the cause of his daughter’s death was more shameful and deplorable than that death itself. To this was added the haughty insolence of the king himself, and the sufferings and toils of the people, buried in the earth in the task of cleansing ditches and sewers: he declared that Romans, the conquerors of all the surrounding states, instead of warriors had become labourers and stone­cutters. The unnatural murder of King Servius Tullius was recalled, and the fact of his daughter having driven over the body of her father in her impious chariot, and the gods who avenge parents were invoked by him. By stating these and, I believe, other facts still more shocking, which, though by no means easy to be detailed by writers, the then heinous state of things suggested, he so worked upon the already incensed multitude, that they deprived the king of his authority, and ordered the banishment of Lucius Tarquinius with his wife and children. He himself, having selected and armed some of the younger men, who gave in their names as volunteers, set out for the camp at Ardea to rouse the army against the king: the command in the city he left to Lucretius, who had been already appointed prefect of the city by the king. Dur­ing this tumult Tullia fled from her house, both men and women cursing her wherever she went, and invoking upon her the wrath of the furies, the avengers of parents.

News of these transactions having reached the camp, when the king, alarmed at this sudden revolution, was proceeding to Rome to quell the disturbances, Brutus—for he had had notice of his approach—turned aside, to avoid meeting him; and much about the same time Brutus and Tarquinius arrived by different routes, the one at Ardea, the other at Rome. The gates were shut against Tarquin, and sentence of banishment declared against him; the camp welcomed with great joy the deliverer of the city, and the king’s sons were expelled. Two of them followed their father, and went into exile to Caere, a city of Etruria, Sextus Tarquinius, who had gone to Gabii, as if to his own kingdom, was slain by the avengers of the old feuds, which he had stirred up against himself by his rapines and murders. Lucius Tarquinius Superbus reigned twenty-five years: the regal form of government lasted, from the building of the city to its deliverance, two hundred and forty-four years. Two consuls, Lucius Junius Brutus and Lucius Tarquinius Collatinus, were elected by the prefect of the city at the comitia of centuries, according to the commentaries of Servius Tullius.