Astur

He eyed the flinching Tuscans, and scorn was in his eye.

Quoth he, the she-wolf's litter stand savagely at bay, but will ye dare to follow if Astur clears the way? Then whirling up his broadsword with both hands to the height, he rushed against Horatius and smote with all his might.

with shield and blade horatious right deftly turned the blow the blow though turned came yet too nigh it missed his helm but gashed his thigh the tuscans raised a joyful cry to see the red blood flow he reeled and on herminius he leaned one breathing space then like a wild cat mad with wounds sprang right at astur's face Through teeth and skull and helmet, so fierce a thrust he sped, the good sword stood a handbreadth out behind the Tuscan's head.

And the great Lord of Luna fell at that deadly stroke, as falls on Mount Alvernus a thunder-smitten oak.