man, and as clever as he was honest.  He pretended to accept the offer, and arranged for a meeting.  This done, he told the whole matter to his master the physician, and the physician told it again to his patient.  Cluentius arranged that certain friends should be present in concealment at the interview between the slave and his tempter.  The villain came, and was seized with the poison and a packet of money, sealed with his master’s seal, upon him.

Cluentius, who had put up with many provocations from his mother’s husband, now felt that his life was in danger, and determined to defend himself.  He indicted Scamander for an attempt to poison.  The man was found guilty.  Scamander’s patron (as they used to call a freedman’s old master) was next brought to trial, and with the same result.  Last of all Oppianicus, the chief criminal, was attacked.  Scamander’s trial had warned him of his danger, and he had labored to bring about the man’s acquittal.  One vote, and one only, he had contrived to secure.  And to the giver of this vote, a needy and unprincipled member of the Senate, he now had recourse.  He went, of course, with a large sum in his hand—­something about five thousand six hundred pounds of our money.  With this the senator—­Staienus by name—­was to bribe sixteen out of the thirty-two jurymen.  They were to have three hundred and fifty pounds apiece for their votes, and Staienus was to have as much for his own vote (which would give a majority), and something over for his trouble.  Staienus conceived the happy idea of appropriating the whole, and he managed it in this way.  He accosted a fellow-juror, whom he knew to be as unprincipled as himself.  “Bulbus,” he said, “you will help me in taking care that we sha’n’t serve our country for nothing.”  “You may count on me,” said the man.  Staienus went on, “The defendant has promised three hundred and fifty pounds to every juror who will vote ‘Not Guilty.’  You know who will take the money.  Secure them, and come again to me.”  Nine days after, Bulbus came with beaming face to Staienus.  “I have got the sixteen in the matter you know of; and now, where is the money?” “He has played me false,” replied the other; “the money is not forthcoming.  As for myself, I shall certainly vote ‘Guilty.’”

The trial came to an end, and the verdict was to be given.  The defendant claimed that it should be given by word of mouth, being anxious to know who had earned their money.  Staienus and Bulbus were the first to vote.  To the surprise of all, they voted “Guilty.”  Rumors too of foul play had spread about.  The two circumstances caused some of the more respectable jurors to hesitate.  In the end five voted for acquittal, ten said “Not Proven,” and seventeen “Guilty.”  Oppianicus suffered nothing worse than banishment, a banishment which did not prevent him from living in Italy, and even in the neighborhood of Rome.  The Romans, though they shed blood like water in their civil strife, were singularly lenient in their punishments.  Not long afterwards he died.