cting nothing.

Antiochus, on his part, had no apprehensions. When some days had passed
and the candelabrum was not returned, he sent to ask for it. The
governor begged the messenger to come again the next day. It seemed a
strange request; still the man came again and was again unsuccessful.
The King himself then waited on the governor and begged him to return
it. Verres hinted, or rather said plainly, that he should very much like
it as a present. "This is impossible," replied the prince, "the honor
due to Jupiter and public opinion forbid it. All the world knows that
the offering is to be made, and I cannot go back from my word." Verres
perceived that soft words would be useless, and took at once another
line. The King, he said, must leave Sicily before nightfall. The public
safety demanded it. He had heard of a piratical expedition which was on
its way from Syria to the province, and that his departure was
necessary. Antiochus had no choice but to obey; but before he went he
publicly protested in the market-place of Syracuse against the wrong
that had been done. His other valuables, the gold and the jewels, he did
not so much regret; but it was monstrous that he should be robbed of the
gift that he destined for the altar of the tutelary god of Rome.

The Sicilian cities were not better able to protect their possessions
than were private individuals. Segesta was a town that had early ranged
itself on the side of the Romans, with whom its people had a legendary
relationship. (The story was that Aeneas on his way to Italy had left
there some of his followers, who were unwilling any longer to endure the
hardships of the journey.) In early days it had been destroyed by the
Carthaginians, who had carried off all its most valuable possessions,
the most precious being a statue of Diana, a work of great beauty and
invested with a peculiar sacredness. When Carthage fell, Scipio its
conqueror restored the spoils which had been carried off from the cities
of Sicily. Among other things Agrigentum had recovered its famous bull
of brass, in which the tyrant Phalaris had burned, it was said, his
victims. Segesta was no less fortunate than its neighbors, and got back
its Diana. It was set on a pedestal on which was inscribed the name of
Scipio, and became one of the most notable sights of the island. It was
of a colossal size, but the sculptor had contrived to preserve the
semblance of maidenly grace and modesty. Verres saw and covet