Semponius Atratinus Sat in the Eastern Gate, Beside him were three Fathers, Each in his chair of state； Fabius, whose nine stout grandsons That day were in the field, And Manlius, eldest of the Twelve Who keep the Golden Shield； And Sergius, the High Pontiff, For wisdom far renowned； In all Etruria's colleges Was no such Pontiff found. And all around the portal, And high above the wall, Stood a great throng of people, But sad and silent all； Young lads and stooping elders That might not bear the mail, Matrons with lips that quivered, And maids with faces pale. Since the first gleam of daylight, Sempronius had not ceased To listen for the rushing Of horse-hoofs from the east. The mist of eve was rising, The sun was hastening down, When he was aware of a princely pair Fast pricking towards the town. So like they were, man never Saw twins so like before； Red with gore their armor was, Their steeds were red with gore.