It was the voice of Paullus, who now strode into the gap, left by the opening concourse, glittering in the full panoply of a decurion of the horse, thirty dismounted troopers arranging themselves in a glittering line behind him. At the sight of the soldiery, led by one whose face was familiar to him, the audacity of the young man revived; and turning round with a light laugh toward Arvina, "Here is a precious coil," he said, "my Paullus, about a poor plebeian harlot!" "I never heard that Icilia was such," replied the young soldier sternly, for the dark tale was but too well known; "nor must you look to me, Aulus Fulvius, for countenance in deeds like these, although it be my duty to protect you from violence! Come my friends," he continued, turning to the multitude, "You must disperse, at once, to your several homes; if any have been wronged by this man, he can have justice at the tribunal of the Prætor! But there must be no violence!" "Is this thing true, Aulus?" asked the old man, in tones so stern and solemn, that the youth hung his head and was silent. "Is this thing true?" the Senator repeated. "Why, hath he not confessed it?" asked the old man, who had spoken so many times before; and who had lingered with Fulvius Flaccus, and a few others of the crowd. "It is true." "Who art thou?" asked the old Patrician, a terrible suspicion crossing his mind. "The father of that daughter, whom thy son forcibly dishonored!" "Enter!" replied the senator, throwing the door, in front of which he stood, wide open, "thou shalt have justice!" Then, casting a glance full of sad but resolute determination upon the culprit, all whose audacity had passed away, he said in a graver tone, "Enter thou likewise; thou shalt have punishment!" "Punishment!" answered the proud youth, his eye flashing, "Punishment! and from whom?" "Punishment from thy father! wilt thou question it? Punishment, even unto death, if thou shalt be found worthy to die!—the law is not dead, if it have slept awhile! Enter!" He dared not to reply—he dared not to refuse. Slow, sullen, and crest-fallen, he crossed his father’s threshhold; but, as he did so, he glared terribly on Paullus, and shook his hand at him, and cried in tones of deadly hatred, "This is thy doing! curses—curses upon thee! thou shalt rue it!" Arvina smiled in calm contempt of his impotent resentment. The culprit, the accuser, and the judge passed inward; the door closed heavily behind them; the crowd dispersed; the soldiery marched onward; and the street, in front of the Fulvian House, was left dark and silent. An hour perhaps had passed, when the door was again opened, and the aged plebeian, Icilia’s father, issued into the dark street. "Scourged!" he cried, with a wild triumphant laugh, "Scourged, like a slave, at his own father’s bidding! Rejoice, exult, Icilia! thy shame is half avenged!" CHAPTER II. THE CONSULAR COMITIA. Your voices! CORIOLANUS.