ned by the unjust sentence pronounced by Appius in the process as
to the freedom of the daughter of the centurion Lucius Verginius, the
bride of the former tribune of the people Lucius Icilius--a sentence
which wrested the maiden from her relatives with a view to make her
non-free and beyond the pale of the law, and induced her father
himself to plunge his knife into the heart of his daughter in the
open Forum, to rescue her from certain shame. While the people in
amazement at the unprecedented deed surrounded the dead body of the
fair maiden, the decemvir commanded his lictors to bring the father
and then the bridegroom before his tribunal, in order to render to
him, from whose decision there lay no appeal, immediate account
for their rebellion against his authority. The cup was now full.
Protected by the furious multitude, the father and the bridegroom of
the maiden made their escape from the lictors of the despot, and
while the senate trembled and wavered in Rome, the pair presented
themselves, with numerous witnesses of the fearful deed, in the two
camps. The unparalleled tale was told; the eyes of all were opened
to the gap which the absence of tribunician protection had made in the
security of law; and what the fathers had done their sons repeated.
Once more the armies abandoned their leaders: they marched in warlike
order through the city, and proceeded once more to the Sacred Mount,
where they again nominated their own tribunes. Still the decemvirs
refused to lay down their power; then the army with its tribunes
appeared in the city, and encamped on the Aventine. Now at length,
when civil war was imminent and the conflict in the streets might
hourly begin, the decemvirs renounced their usurped and dishonoured
power; and the consuls Lucius Valerius and Marcus Horatius negotiated
a second compromise, by which the tribunate of the plebs was again
established. The impeachment of the decemvirs terminated in the two
most guilty, Appius Claudius and Spurius Oppius, committing suicide
in prison, while the other eight went into exile and the state
confiscated their property. The prudent and moderate tribune of
the plebs, Marcus Duilius, prevented further judicial prosecutions
by a seasonable use of his veto.

So runs the story as recorded by the pen of the Roman aristocrats;
but, even leaving out of view the accessory circumstances, the great
crisis out of which the Twelve Tables arose cannot possibly have
ended