No More Learning

It was with their own national arms,
and in their own national battle array, that they had overcome
weapons and tactics long believed to be invincible. The pilum and
the broadsword had vanquished the Macedonian spear. The legion
had broken the Macedonian phalanx. Even the elephants, when the
surprise produced by their first appearance was over, could cause
no disorder in the steady yet flexible battalions of Rome.
It is said by Florus, and may easily be believed, that the
triumph far surpassed in magnificence any that Rome had
previously seen. The only spoils which Papirius Cursor and Fabius
Maximus could exhibit were flocks and herds, wagons of rude
structure, and heaps of spears and helmets. But now, for the
first time, the riches of Asia and the arts of Greece adorned a
Roman pageant. Plate, fine stuffs, costly furniture, rare
animals, exquisite paintings and sculptures, formed part of the
procession. At the banquet would be assembled a crowd of warriors
and statesmen, among whom Manius Curius Dentatus would take the
highest room. Caius Fabricius Luscinus, then, after two
Consulships and two triumphs, Censor of the Commonwealth, would
doubtless occupy a place of honor at the board. In situations
less conspicuous probably lay some of those who were, a few years
later, the terror of Carthage: Caius Duilius, the founder of the
maritime greatness of his country; Marcus Atilius Regulus, who
owed to defeat a renown far higher than that which he had derived
from his victories; and Caius Lutatius Catalus, who, while
suffering from a grievous wound, fought the great battle of the
AEates, and brought the First Punic War to a triumphant close. It
is impossible to recount the names of these eminent citizens,
without reflecting that they were, without exception, Plebeians,
and would, but for the ever memorable struggle maintained by
Caius Licinius and Lucius Sextius, have been doomed to hide in
obscurity, or to waste in civil broils, the capacity and energy
which prevailed against Pyrrhus and Hamilcar.

On such a day we may suppose that the patriotic enthusiasm of a
Latin poet would vent itself in reiterated shouts of "Io
triumphe," such as were uttered by Horace on a far less exciting
occasion, and in boasts resembling those which Virgil put into
the mouth of Anchises. The superiority of some foreign nations,
and especially of the Greeks, in the lazy arts of peace, would be
admitted with disdainful candor; but preeminence in all the
qualities which fit a people to subdue and govern mankind would
be claimed for the Romans.

The following lay belongs to the latest age of Latin
ballad-poetry.
Naevis and Livius Andronicus were probably among
the children whose mothers held them up to see the chariot of
Curius go by. The minstrel who sang on that day might possibly
have lived to read the first hexameters of Ennius, and to see the
first comedies of Plautus. His poem, as might be expected, shows
a much wider acquaintance with the geography, manners, and
productions of remote nations, than would have been found in
compositions of the age of Camillus. But he troubles himself
little about dates, and having heard travellers talk with
admiration of the Colossus of Rhodes, and of the structures and
gardens with which the Macedonian king of Syria had embellished
their residence on the banks of the Orontes, he has never thought
of inquiring whether these things existed in the age of Romulus.



The Prophecy of Capys



A Lay Sung at the Banquet in the Capitol, on the Day Whereon
Manius Curius Dentatus, a Second Time Consul, Triumphed Over King
Pyrrhus and the Tarentines, in the Year of the City CCCCLXXIX.

I

Now slain is King Amulius,
Of the great Sylvian line,
Who reigned in Alba Longa,
On the throne of Aventine.
Slain is the Ponfiff Camers,
Who spake the words of doom:
"The children to the Tiber,
The mother to the tomb. "

II

In Alba's lake no fisher
His net to-day is flinging;
On the dark rind of Alba's oaks
To-day no axe is ringing;
The yoke hangs o'er the manger;
The scythe lies in the hay:
Through all the Alban villages
No work is done to-day.

III

And every Alban burgher
Hath donned his whitest gown;
And every head in Alba
Weareth a poplar crown;
And every Alban door-post
With boughs and flowers is gay,
For to-day the dead are living,
The lost are found to-day.

IV

They were doomed by a bloody king,
They were doomed by a lying priest,
They were cast on the raging flood,
They were tracked by the raging beast;
Raging beast and raging flood
Alike have spared the prey;
And to-day the dead are living,
The lost are found to-day.

V

The troubled river knew them,
And smoothed his yellow foam,
And gently rocked the cradle
That bore the fate of Rome.
The ravening she-wolf knew them,
And licked them o'er and o'er,
And gave them of her own fierce milk,
Rich with raw flesh and gore.
Twenty winters, twenty springs,
Since then have rolled away;
And to-day the dead are living:
The lost are found to-day.

VI

Blithe it was to see the twins,
Right goodly youths and tall,
Marching from Alba Longa
To their old grandsire's hall.
Along their path fresh garlands
Are hung from tree to tree:
Before them stride the pipers,
Piping a note of glee.

VII

On the right goes Romulus,
With arms to the elbows red,
And in his hand a broadsword,
And on the blade a head--
A head in an iron helmet,
With horse-hair hanging down,
A shaggy head, a swarthy head,
Fixed in a ghastly frown--
The head of King Amulius
Of the great Sylvian line,
Who reigned in Alba Longa,
On the throne of Aventine.