Pontius, the Samnite general, was puzzled how to act, and sent to inquire of his father what he should do, when the old man replied, "Release them unhurt!" and the answer not being quite satisfactory, another messenger was sent, who brought back the brief but expressive recommendation to "cut them all to pieces." Pontius, thinking the old gentleman had gone out of his mind, sought a personal explanation; but the veteran, who was clearly averse to doing anything by halves, or meeting anybody half-way, persevered in his recommendation to his son, to do one thing or the other. The Samnites were struck with admiration at the wisdom of the sage; but although all were dumbfounded by the profound philosophy of the advice, nobody thought of taking it. Pontius proposed terms, and having been deceived so frequently by the Romans before, he magnanimously resolved to try and be even with them at last, by putting them and his own countrymen on a perfect equality. He stipulated for the restoration to the Samnites of all the places taken from them; but the most painful portion of the arrangement to the Romans was their being called upon to pass under the yoke,--a ceremony which was supposed to lower for ever all who had once stooped to it. Six hundred equites were held as hostages for the due observance of the treaty, and these knights were, in fact, so many pawns, held in pledge for the honour of the Romans. The Consuls, stripped of every thing but their shirts, and looking the most deplorable objects, crawled under the yoke, followed by the whole army in the same wretched undress as their leaders. As they passed through Capua, the inhabitants, touched with sympathy, came forth with bundles of left-off wearing apparel, which was tendered to the humiliated troops; but their wounds were too deep for ordinary dressing. They walked silently to their homes, through the back streets of the city. All business was suspended on the day of their arrival, and though the Romans had seen suffering in almost every variety of guise, they had never met with it under such melancholy Guys as those that were then before them. The Consuls resigned their offices as rapidly as they could, for their nominal dignity only added to their real disgrace, and they may be supposed to have felt the relief experienced by the broken-spirited cur, whose tail has just undergone the curtailment of the hateful, but glittering kettle. [Illustration: The Romans clothed by the Inhabitants of Capua.]