wed him such an
unexpected path[33] to wealth. Look, Maximus, see how confused he is
at hearing this, see how he casts his eyes upon the ground. He had
not unnaturally expected something very different. He knew that my
wife was angry with her son on account of his insolent behaviour and
that she returned my devotion. He had reason also for fear in regard
to myself; for any one else, even if like myself he had been above
coveting the inheritance, would gladly have seen so undutiful a
step-son punished. It was this anxiety above all others that spurred
them on to accuse me. Their own avarice led them falsely to conjecture
that the whole inheritance had been left to me. As far as the past is
concerned, I will dispel your fears on that point. I was proof against
the temptation both of enriching myself and of revenging myself. I--a
step-father, mind you--contended for my wicked step-son with his
mother, as a father might contend against a stepmother in the
interests of a virtuous son; nor did I rest satisfied till, with a
perfectly extravagant sense of fairness, I had restrained my good
wife's lavish generosity towards myself.

[Footnote 33: _semitam_ (codd. inferiores).]

100. Give me the will which was made in the interests of so unfilial a
son by his mother. Each word of it was preceded by an entreaty from
myself, whom my accusers speak of as a mere robber. Order the tablets
to be broken open, Maximus. You will find that her son is the heir,
that I get nothing save some trifling complimentary legacy inserted to
avoid the non-appearance of my name, the husband's name, mark you, in
my wife's will, supposing she succumbed to any of the ills to which
this flesh is heir. Take up your mother's will. You are right, in one
respect it is undutiful. She excludes her devoted husband from the
inheritance in favour of her most unfilial son? Nay, it is not her son
to whom she leaves her fortune; she leaves it rather to the greedy
Aemilianus and the matchmaking Rufinus and that drunken gang, that
hang about you and prey upon you. Take it, O best of sons! Lay aside
your mother's love-letters for a while and read her will instead. If
she ever wrote anything while not in her right mind, you will find it
here, nor will you have to go far to find it. 'Let Sicinius Pudens, my
son, be my heir.' I admit it! he who reads this, will think it
insanity. Is this same son your heir, who at his own brother's funeral
attempted with the help of a gang