irst 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 sup