When it was perfectly dark and still, Tarpeia stole from
her bed, took the great key from its place, and silently unlocked the gate
which protected the city. Outside, in the dark, stood the soldiers of the
enemy, waiting. As she opened the gate, the long shadowy files pressed
forward silently, and the Sabines entered the citadel.
As the first man came inside, Tarpeia stretched forth her hand for her
price. The soldier lifted high his left arm. "Take thy reward!" he said,
and as he spoke he hurled upon her that which he wore upon it. Down upon
her head crashed--not the silver rings of the soldier, but the great brass
shield he carried in battle!
She sank beneath it, to the ground.
"Take thy reward," said the next; and his shield rang against the first.
"Thy reward," said the next--and the next--and the next--and the next;
every man wore his shield on his left arm.
So Tarpeia lay buried beneath the reward she had claimed, and the Sabines
marched past her dead body, into the city she had betrayed.
THE BUCKWHEAT[1]
[Footnote 1: Adapted from Hans Christian Andersen.]
Down by the river were fields of barley and rye and golden oats. Wheat
grew there, too, and the heaviest and richest ears bent lowest, in
humility. Opposite the corn was a field of buckwheat, but the buckwheat
never bent; it held its head proud and stiff on the stem.
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