Ab urbe condita

The affair had an ugly look, and the visible evidence removed any suspicion of fraud. The Assembly became greatly excited, and amidst loud shouts insisted upon the magistrates convening the senate.

When it assembled the senators were surrounded by a crowd of spectators who clamoured for war with Rome, whilst others went off into the country to rouse the peasantry to arms. Even the coolest heads were carried away by the tumult of popular feeling; a decree was passed that a fresh alliance should be made with the Samnites, and negotiations were opened with them accordingly.

The Samnites did not feel much confidence in this sudden and apparently groundless change of policy, and the Lucanians were obliged to give hostages and allow the Samnites to garrison their fortified places. Blinded by the imposition that had been practised on them and by their furious resentment at it, they made no difficulty about accepting these terms.

Shortly afterwards, when the authors of the false charges had removed to Tarentum, they began to see how they had been hoodwinked, but it was then too late, events were no longer in their power, and nothing remained but unavailing repentance.

This year (326 B.C.> was marked by the dawn, as it were, of a new era of liberty for the plebs; creditors were no longer allowed to attach the persons of their debtors. This change in the law was brought about by a signal instance of lust and cruelty upon the part of a moneylender.

L. Papirius was the man in question. C. Publilius had pledged his person to him for a debt which his father had contracted. The youth and beauty of the debtor which ought to have called forth feelings of compassion only acted as incentives to lust and insult.

Finding that his infamous proposals only filled the youth with horror and loathing, the man reminded him that he was absolutely in his power and sought to terrify him by threats. As these failed to crush the boy's noble instincts, he ordered him to be stripped and beaten.