ashion mean and beggarly, the art
slight and imperfect, and that the half of what I charged, which was
five hundred aurelians, was all that I should have, with which, if I
were not content and lisped but a syllable of blame, a dungeon for my
home were the least I might expect; and if my knavery reached the ear of
Aurelian, from which, if I hearkened to him, it should be his care to
keep it, my life were of less value than a fly's. Knowing well the power
of the man, I took the sum he proffered, hoping to make such composition
with my creditors, that I might still pursue my trade, for, O Emperor,
this was my first work, and being young and just venturing forth, I was
dependent upon others. But, with the half price I was allowed to charge,
and was paid, I cannot reimburse them. My name is gone and I am ruined.'

'The half of five hundred--say you--was that the sum, and all the sum he
paid you?'

'It was. And there are here with me those that will attest it.'

'It needs not; for I myself know that from the treasury five hundred
aurelians were drawn, and said, by him, for this work--which well suits
me--to have been duly paid. Let but this be proved, and his life is the
least that it shall cost him. But it must be well proved. Let us now
have thy witnesses.'

Menestheus at this point, ignorant of the charge then making against
him, entered the tent. Appalled by the apparition of the injured man,
and grasping at a glance the truth, all power of concealment was gone,
conscious guilt was written in the color and in every line and feature
of the face.

'Menestheus!' said Aurelian, 'knowest thou this man?'

'He is Virro, an artisan of Rome;' replied the trembling slave.

'And what think you makes him here?'

The Secretary was silent.

'He has come, Menestheus, well stored with proofs, beside those which I
can furnish, of thy guilt. Shall the witnesses be heard? Here they
stand.'

Menestheus replied not. The very faculty of speech had left the
miserable man.

'How is it,' then said Aurelian in his fiercest tones, 'how is it that
again, for these paltry gains, already rolling in wealth--thou wilt
defile thy own soul, and bring public shame upon me too, and Rome! Away
to thy tent! and put in order thine own affairs and mine. Thou hast
lived too long. Soldiers, let him be strongly guarded.--Let Virro now
receive his just dues. Men call me cruel, and well I fear they may; but
unjust, rapacious, never, as I believe. Whom