"Curse on such laws," vociferated the bandit, foaming with rage; "curse
on such a government, and ten thousand curses on the prince who caused
me to be adjudged so rigorously, while so many other Roman princes
harbor and protect assassins a thousand times more culpable. What had I
done but what was inspired by a love of justice and my country? Why was
my act more culpable than that of Brutus, when he sacrificed Caesar to
the cause of liberty and justice?"
There was something at once both lofty and ludicrous in the rhapsody of
this robber chief, thus associating himself with one of the great names
of antiquity. It showed, however, that he had at least the merit of
knowing the remarkable facts in the history of his country. He became
more calm, and resumed his narrative.
I was conducted to Civita Vecchia in fetters. My heart was burning with
rage. I had been married scarce six months to a woman whom I passionately
loved, and who was pregnant. My family was in despair. For a long time
I made unsuccessful efforts to break my chain. At length I found a
morsel of iron which I hid carefully, endeavored with a pointed flint
to fashion it into a kind of file. I occupied myself in this work
during the night-time, and when it was finished, I made out, after a
long time, to sever one of the rings of my chain. My flight was
successful.
I wandered for several weeks in the mountains which surround Prossedi,
and found means to inform my wife of the place where I was concealed.
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