Ab urbe condita

especially the men of distinction —known to each other.

Accosting Manlius he said: “Are you going to conduct the war against the Latins and their allies with that single troop of yours? What will the consuls, what will their two armies be doing in the meantime?” “They

will be here in good time,” Manlius replied, “and so will Jupiter, the Great and Powerful, the witness of your breach of faith. If we fought at Lake Regillus till you had quite enough, certainly we

shall succeed here also in preventing you from finding too much pleasure in meeting us in battle.”

In reply, Geminus rode forward a short distance and said: “Are you willing, before the day comes when you are to set your armies in motion for so great an effort, to have a meeting with me that the result of our single combat may show how much a Latin horseman is superior to a Roman?”

Either urged on by anger or feeling ashamed to decline the contest, or dragged on by the irresistible power of destiny, the high-spirited youth forgot the consul's edict and the obedience due to a father and rushed headlong into a contest in which victory or defeat were alike fatal. The rest of the cavalry retired to remain spectators of the fray; the two combatants selected a clear space over which they charged each other at full gallop with levelled spears.

Manlius' lance passed above his adversary's helmet, Maecius' across the neck of the other's horse. They wheeled their horses round, and Manlius standing in his stirrups was the first to get in a second stroke ; he thrust his lance between the horse's ears.

Feeling the wound, the horse reared, shook its head violently, and threw its rider off.

Whilst he was trying to rise after his heavy fall by supporting himself with his lance and shield, Manlius drove his lance right through his body and pinned him to the earth. After despoiling the body he returned to his men, and amidst their exulting shouts entered the camp

and went straight to his father at the headquarters' tent, not in the least realising the nature of his deed or its possible consequences, whether praise or punishment.

“That all may say, my father,” he said, “that I am a true scion of your blood, I bring to you these equestrian spoils taken from a dead enemy who challenged me to single combat.” On hearing this the consul turned away from his son and ordered the trumpet to sound the Assembly.

The soldiers mustered in large numbers and the consul began: “Since you, T. Manlius, have shown no regard for either