declared that they knew nothing about it, they were indicted for
parricide. What could be so suspicious? Suspicious, do I say? Nay,
worse. That neither knew any thing about it? That any one had ventured
into that chamber at the very time when there were in it two young men
who would certainly perceive and defeat the attempt? Yet, because it was
proved to the jury that the young men had been found fast asleep, with
the door wide open, they were acquitted. It was thought incredible that
men who had just committed so monstrous a crime could possibly sleep.
Why, Solon, the wisest of all legislators, drawing up his code of laws,
provided no punishment for this crime; and when he was asked the reason
replied that he believed that no one would ever commit it. To provide a
punishment would be to suggest rather than prevent. Our own ancestors
provided indeed a punishment, but it was of the strangest kind, showing
how strange, how monstrous they thought the crime. And what evidence do
you bring forward? The man was not at Rome. That is proved. There-fore
he must have done it, if he did it at all, by the hands of others. Who
were these others? Were they free men or slaves? If they were free men
where did they come from, where live? How did he hire them? Where is
the proof? You haven't a shred of evidence, and yet you accuse him of
parricide. And if they were slaves, where, again I ask, are they? There
_were_ two slaves who saw the deed; but they belonged to the confederate
not to the accused. Why do you not produce them? Purely because they
would prove your guilt.

"It is there indeed that we find the real truth of the matter. It was
the maxim of a famous lawyer, Ask: _who profited by the deed_? I ask it
now. It was Magnus who profited. He was poor before, and now he is rich.
And then he was in Rome at the time of the murder; and he was familiar
with assassins. Remember too the strange speed with which he sent the
news to Ameria, and sent it, not to the son, as one might expect, but to