The Lay of the Horatii

The Lay of the Horatii
By Alan Embree Cattaneo

Rhyming scheme:
A
B
B
C
B
C

Gather, child, and, listen well
I have for thee a tale to tell

Lend ear to my words, and know
The city of the She-wolf’s sons
And how her voyage had begun
Of stoic heroes, poet-sung
Of every battle fought and won
Capvt Mvndi to become

To tell the tale, we must return
When Rome was but a colony
Of Alba Longa and her king
How that once great city fell
And Roma claimed her liberty
This is the tale I wish to tell

How Roma became free at last
Her colonial chains to break
Her former masters to forsake
A destiny to forge in fire
The favor of the gods to take
And grow to fill the earth entire

With allies few, and foes so near
The Romans never showed their fear

Publius Hostilius
The mighty city’s mighty king
Led forth an army conquering
He himself riding foremost
The Romans eager death to bring
To old King Mettius’s host

The Eagle stretched its wings and shrieked
In stark defiance, Roma swore
To bow to Alba never more
The city that had giv’n them birth
Like king Oedipus of lore
They swore to lay down to the earth

King Mettius and his Alban brood
To Rome proclaimed defiantly
“Send forth to us your champions three
To stand for Rome, to live or die
And three heroes send forth shall we
Alba to exemplify.

A mighty contest, to the death
Our glorious champions shall fight
Spear and gladius, strength and might
Shall this day decide our fate
Let the Gods decide who’s right
Of whom they’re proud, and whom they hate.”

Hostilius agreed with care
The lives of his dear men to spare

Both kings swore a solemn oath
Abide by what the Gods may choose
Whosoever then might lose
Would lay his sword and sceptre down
Those two kingdoms then to fuse
Under the sole victor’s crown

The lines were drawn, the call went out
The ranks were searched for champions three
The mighty triplets, Horatii
Were chosen for their strength and skill
Their oath to die before they’d flee
And their indomitable will

For Rome, the triplets Horatii
For Alba came the Curatii

With cheering from the clam’ring host
With flashing sword and gleaming shield
The champions quickly took the field
Three brave brothers, sons of Rome
The sword of Mars himself to wield
In defence of this, their home

As gods looked down to then elect
Who their favor would attract

Against their Alban counterparts
With vicious roar the brothers clashed
Sand did fly and swords did flash
Curatan blades drew Roman blood
Two Romans cried: their hope was dashed
Their brother fell down to the mud

The violent conflict raged thus on
'Midst cruel and vulgar Alban jeers
And somber, bitter Roman tears
Forced to look on, and to see
Their two remaining volunteers
Outnumbered two against the three

Then Romans cried out in lament
As their hope was ground to dust
A second brave Horatius
Took a blade, fell to his knees
Leaving his sole brother thus
Though wounded were the Curatii

The once proud Romans were laid low
And rent their clothing in despair
To claim defeat they did prepare
As their sole champion swung and thrust
Encircled by the foe, the air
Was full of predatory lust

The air was tense, the hour was bleak
Not one Roman dared to speak

Horatius knew he could not win
Like Mercury the Swift he sped
His foes pursued him as he fled
But lo, his flight was not retreat
A strategy came to his head
He was not ready for defeat

Like hounds of Erebus they came
But, wounded, they were soon outpaced
And far apart they soon were spaced
Two behind, one in the lead
Their fatal error soon to face
Forsook the strength of unity

Thus, distanced so, the Curatii
Could not their leading brother aid
Defend against the Roman blade
Horatius turned and quickly slew
Upon the wounded man he preyed
In front of the remaining two 

The Romans raised their fists and cheered
"Regroup, you fools!" The Albans screamed
But far too clever was his scheme
Horatius struck a fearsome blow
Slick with blood his gladius gleamed
And cut down was his second foe

Finally, there was but one
Horatius stared Curatius down
They faced each other, snarling hounds
The hope of nations on their backs
Horatius took a mighty bound
And sprang hungrily to attack

“For my brothers, slain in war,
And for the Roman cause!” he swore

Astonished silence filled the air
The Romans raised their voice as one
And sent a cheer up to the sun
Then king Mettius, bound by truce
In honor of the battle won
Gave his crown to Publius

Alba Longa was no more
The city was razed to the ground
Its people not enslaved or bound
But as free men led to new homes
(For Roman mercy was renowned)
To become citizens of Rome

And thus, my child, concludes the tale
Of Roma’s first great victory
The first of many more to be
Remember that those heroes famed,
Our ancestors, look down on thee
And their same blood flows in thy veins