Next, Mettus, by the four-horsed chariot torn.
('Twere better, perjured Alban, to be true!) Fierce Tullus dragged the traitor's limbs in scorn Through brambles, dripping with the crimson dew.
Porsenna there around the city drew His 'leaguering host.

But freedom fired the blood Of Romans.

Idle was his rage, to view How Cocles on the battered bridge withstood, And Cloelia burst her bonds, and singly stemmed the flood.
LXXXVI.

Next, Manlius guards the Capitol; see here The straw-thatched palace.

Silvered in the gold, The fluttering goose proclaims the Gauls are near.
They, screened by darkness, thread the woods, and hold With arms the slumbering citadel.