Valerius. Yet stand, Horatius; bear but one brunt more; The archèd bridge shall sink upon his piles, And in his fall lift thy renown to Heaven. Sextus. Yet enter! Valerius. Dear Horatius, yet stand, And save a million by one powerful hand. [_Alarum; the bridge falls_. All. Charge, charge, charge! Sextus. Degenerate slaves! the bridge is fallen, Rome’s lost. Valerius. Horatius, thou art stronger than their host; Thy strength is valour, theirs are idle braves, Now save thyself, and leap into the waves. Horatius. Porsenna, Tarquin, now wade past your depths And enter Rome. I feel my body sink Beneath my ponderous weight; Rome is preserved, And now farewell; for he that follows me Must search the bottom of this raging stream. Fame, with thy golden wings renown my crest! And, Tiber, take me on thy silver breast! [_Exit_. Porsenna. He’s leapt off from the bridge and drowned himself. Sextus. You are deceived; his spirit soars too high To be choked in with the base element Of water; lo! he swims, armed as he is, Whilst all the army have discharged their arrows, Of which the shield upon his back sticks full. [_Shout and flourish_. And hark, the shout of all the multitude Now welcomes him a-land! Horatius’ fame Hath checked our armies with a general shame. But come, to-morrow’s fortune must restore This scandal, which I of the gods implore. Porsenna. Then we must find another time, fair prince, To scourge these people, and revenge your wrongs. For this night I’ll betake me to my tent. [_Exit_. Tarquin. And we to ours; to-morrow we’ll renown Our army with the spoil of this rich town. [_Exeunt_. SCENE IV.--_Inside_ Porsenna’s _Tent_. _Enter_ Porsenna. Porsenna. Our secretary! _Enter_ Secretary. Secretary. My lord. Porsenna. Command lights and torches in our tent, [_Enter_ Soldiers _with Torches_.] And let a guard engirt our safety round, Whilst we debate of military business. Come, sit and let’s consult. _Enter_ Scevola, _disguised_. Scevola. [_Aside_.] Horatius famous for defending Rome, But we ha’ done nought worthy Scevola, Nor of a Roman: I in this disguise Have passed the army and the puissant guard Of King Porsenna: this should be his tent; And in good time, now fate direct my strength Against a king, to free great Rome at length. [_Stabs the_ Secretary _in mistake for_ Porsenna. Secretary. Oh, I am slain! treason, treason! Porsenna. Villain, what hast thou done? Scevola. Why, slain the king. Porsenna. What king? Scevola. Porsenna. Porsenna. Porsenna lives to see thee torturèd, With plagues more devilish than the pains of hell.