WHY THE ROMANS BORE PAIN
“We are all ready to fight for Tarquin?”
“Yes, yes!”
“He is our rightful king, and we want him back in Rome.”
“Yes.”
“The hard-hearted consul, Brutus, must be slain!”
“He must.”
“Even though he is father to our friends here—Titus and Tiberius?”
“Yes.”
“We will loyally stand by one another in this noble work for the sake of Rome.”
“We will.”
“Shall we all drink?”
“Yes.”
The slave behind the chest shook with horror. He saw the young men, one by one, sip the red liquor in the cup. By this sign they swore to be true to one another in the plot against the life of Brutus. This was about 510 B.C.
“We will write letters to Tarquin the King,” said one, as he wiped his lips. “We will tell him that we mean to kill Brutus and the other consul, and that soon we shall expect to see him in the city to rule over us once more as king.”
The letter was written on a scrap of sheepskin, and folded up.
“You, sir,” said one of the plotters to a person
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