declared to be The offspring of the man Virginius, Whose wife had borne an infant at the time, Which on the moment of its birth had died. Virginius himself was then away, And on returning deemed it was his babe, And deems so to this day. I waited long, And now have found in this Virginia My property. A woman hath confessed; The one who stole her thence and fled away, Returning but to die within the house Of Appius, my patron, whom I serve. Cam. Oh, liar! I first clasped her in mine arms When she was born! Remove thine impious hand! In childhood and in girlhood I have watched Her growth, and guarded her from shame or harm. Multitude. Ay, ay! She speaks the truth! Loose thou the maid! She is no slave. We know Virginius. Marc. Now, I'll have justice, though it cost me e'en My life, itself. Hor. Which it is like to, dog![40]

[39]

[40]

[He strikes him boldly with, clenched fist. The client staggers, losing his hold on Virginia, who takes refuge with the three citizens.

Hortensius. Where is thine evidence? Galba (ironically). Ay, e'en thy word Weighs naught with us free citizens of Rome. Marc. (hissing between his teeth). My word shall weigh with you, ye coward curs! For lo! My word is—Appius! Ah—so!

[The mob shrinks backward at the name, and Marcus laughs in scorn.

(Vindictively.) I see it hath a little weight with you? "Free citizens of Rome!" Ye make me laugh. Oh! ay, I know ye'd mob me joyously, Stone me, or cast me from Tarpeian Rock, Save that—save that—ye dare not! Appius Would leave not one small particle of this, His client, unavenged. Back, all of you! The maid is mine! Ye can not say me nay. One of the multitude. But if we threaten thee, or bear her off, And save her from thy most illegal movements, What then? Marc. What then? To Appius Claudius For justice I would go!

[Murmurs of fear are heard on every side.

(With mocking smile). Lo! now he comes Within the Forum.

[Even as he speaks the Chief of the Decemvirs enters. He is seated in a chair which is borne by four slaves.

Appius (frowning sombrely). What bodes this tumult? Who, yon lovely girl?[41]  Multitude. Justice! We would see justice, Appius! Appius. Silence! and let me hear one voice alone. Marcus, my client, speak, for I would have An explanation of this strange disturbance. Marc. Most noble 

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