n in the fight: that the
Romans were victorious in the war. Under these circumstances, the
Romans departed thence as conquerors, the Etruscans as practically
conquered. For as soon as it was light, and not one of the enemy was
to be seen anywhere, Publius Valerius, the consul, collected the
spoils, and returned thence in triumph to Rome. He celebrated the
funeral of his colleague with all the magnificence possible at the
time. But a far greater honour to his death was the public sorrow,
especially remarkable in this particular, that the matrons mourned him
for a year as a parent, because he had shown himself so vigorous an
avenger of violated chastity. Afterward, the consul who survived--so
changeable are the minds of the people--after enjoying great
popularity, encountered not only jealousy, but suspicion, that
originated with a monstrous charge. Report represented that he was
aspiring to kingly power, because he had not substituted a colleague
in the room of Brutus, and was building on the top of Mount Velia:[6]
that an impregnable stronghold was being erected there in an elevated
and well-fortified position. These reports, widely circulated and
believed, disquieted the consul's mind at the unworthiness of the
charge; and, having summoned the people to an assembly, he mounted the
platform, after lowering the fasces. It was a pleasing sight to the
multitude that the insignia of authority were lowered before them, and
that acknowledgment was made, that the dignity and power of the people
were greater than that of the consul. Then, after they had been
bidden to listen, the consul highly extolled the good fortune of his
colleague, in that, after having delivered his country, he had died
while still invested with the highest rank, fighting in defence of the
commonwealth, when his glory was at its height, and had not yet turned
to jealousy. He himself (said he) had outlived his glory, and only
survived to incur accusation and odium: that, from being the liberator
of his country, he had fallen back to the level of the Aquilii and
Vitellii. "Will no merit then," said he, "ever be so approved in your
eyes as to be exempt from the attacks of suspicion? Was I to apprehend
that I, that bitterest enemy of kings, should myself have to submit
to the charge of desiring kingly power? Was I to believe that, even
though I should dwell in the citadel and the Capitol itself, I should
be dreaded by my fellow-citizens? Does my character amon