Ab urbe condita

way out. Though few in number you have brought aid to many, and it is only fitting to your deserts that you yourselves should need the aid

of none. We have to do with an enemy who through his slackness yesterday failed to use the chance which Fortune gave him of wiping out an entire army; who did not perceive this most useful peak hanging over his head until it had been seized

by us. With all their thousands of men they did not prevent us, few as we are, from climbing it, and now that we are holding it, did they, though plenty of daylight remained, enclose us with lines of circumvallation? The enemy whom you eluded while his eyes were open, and he was on the watch, you certainly ought to evade when he is heavy

with sleep. In fact, it is absolutely necessary for you to do so, for our position is such that I have rather to point out the necessity in which you are placed than to suggest any plan

of action. For there can be no question as to your remaining here or departing, since Fortune has left you nothing but your arms and the courage which knows how to use them. If we show more fear of the sword than becomes men and Romans we shall have to die of hunger

and thirst. Our one chance of safety, then, lies in our breaking our way through and departing. We must do that either in the daytime or

at night. But this is a point which admits of little doubt; if we wait for daylight how can we hope that the enemy, who, as you see, has drawn a ring of men all round us, will not completely enclose us with entrenchments? On the other hand, if night be best for our sortie, as it most certainly is, then this hour of the night is most assuredly

the fittest. You have mustered at the call for the second watch, an hour when men are buried in sleep. You will pass through them in silence, unnoticed by the sleepers, but should they become aware of your presence you will throw them into a panic by a

sudden shout. You have followed me so far, follow me still, while I follow Fortune who has guided us here Those of you who think this a safe plan step forward and pass over to the right.”

All Crossed over. They there followed Decius as he moved through the intervals between the pickets.

They had already got as far as the centre of the Samnite lines when a soldier striding over the bodies of the sleeping sentinels made a noise by striking his shield against one of them. The sentinel awakened by the sound shook the one next him; they both jumped up and aroused others, not knowing whether friends or foes were amongst them, whether it was Decius' force breaking out or the consul capturing the camp.

As they were no longer unobserved, Decius ordered his men to raise a shout, which paralysed the half-awakened sleepers with terror.

In their confusion they were unable to seize their arms promptly and could neither offer any resistance nor follow up their assailants.

While the Samnites were in this state of confusion and panic, the Romans, cutting down all who opposed them, made their way in the direction of the consul's camp. A considerable portion of the night still remained and they were evidently now in safety. Decius addressed them: “All honour to you, brave Romans!

Your march up that height and your return will be extolled in every age But for the due recognition of such courage the light of day is needed; you have deserved something more than to carry your glory back to camp hidden in the silence of the night.

We will rest here and wait for the daylight.” They rested accordingly. As soon as it was light and the news was sent on to the consul in camp, there was great excitement and rejoicing, and where it was officially announced throughout the camp that the men who saved the army at the risk of their own lives had themselves returned safe and sound, they all poured out in crowds to meet them, showered congratulations upon them, gave thanks and praise to the gods, and extolled Decius to the skies.

He marched through the camp in what amounted to a triumphal procession with his small force fully armed. Every eye was fixed upon him; the military tribune was treated with as much distinction as if he had been a consul.

When he reached the headquarters' tent, the consul ordered the Assembly to be sounded.