“But some, perhaps, may say, ‘We do not so much blame the thing, as the manner in which it was done, she being made his wife, as it were, by stealth.’ Why, this is no such strange matter! How many examples are there of this kind in the world? Do not daughters marry without their parents’ consent? Some go into foreign countries with their gallants, and others never discover their marriages at all, till their appearance or lying-in does it for them. Now there is nothing like this in Sophronia’s case; she was decently and honourably disposed of by Gisippus to me. Others may allege, that she was married to a person for whom she was never designed; but those complaints are now exceedingly foolish, and to no purpose whatever. Fortune makes use of strange methods sometimes to bring things to pass. What is it to me, whether it be a cobbler or a philosopher that does any business of mine, or whether it be in public or private, provided the end be good? Indeed, if I find the cobbler indiscreet in his management, he shall have no more to do for me; but still I am obliged to thank him when he does me any real service. Gisippus has married Sophronia well; then to what purpose is it how he did it? If you question his prudence, let him have no more of your daughters to dispose of; but still thank him for providing so well for this one. I never meant to throw a stain upon your family, in the person of Sophronia; and though I married her in that manner, I neither came as a ravisher, nor one refusing your alliance; I was charmed with her beauty and virtue; and fearing, if I proceeded in the usual way, that you would never give your consent, on account of my taking her away to Rome, I therefore had recourse to this artifice and made Gisippus espouse her for me. – Moreover, though I loved her most immoderately, yet, to show you that my designs were strictly honourable, 1 first espoused her with my own ring, as she can bear me witness, asking her whether she was willing to take me for her husband, when she made answer that she was; if she was deceived, she herself is to blame for not asking me who I was.
“This, then, is the mighty crime committed by him as a friend, and me as a lover: for this you lay snares for, and threaten his life. What could you do more, had he given her to the veriest scoundrel in the universe? But letting this alone for the present, the time is now come, on account of my fathers unexpected death, for my returning to Rome; and as I intend to take Sophronia along with me, I have thought it proper to declare what might otherwise have been kept secret. If you be wise, you will take it in good part; for, were I capable of such an action, I might basely have left her. But heaven forbid that such a thought should ever enter the breast of a Roman! Sophronia, therefore, is mine by the will of Heaven, the laws of men, the generosity of my friend, and the innocent artifice wherewith love inspired me; whilst you, thinking yourself wiser than other people, or even the gods themselves, contest my title two ways, both very injurious to me: first, by seeking to detain Sophronia, over whom you have no more power than I choose to give you; and, secondly, by your ill treatment of my friend, to whom yourselves are greatly obliged. How indiscreet you are in both respects I shall not say at present, but will only advise you amicably to give up your resentment, and deliver Sophronia to me, that I may depart your friend, and continue so; assuring you, whether you be pleased or otherwise with what is done, that if you offer to proceed in a different manner, I will then take Gisippus along with me; and when I come to Rome, fetch her, who is mine by right, in spite of you all, from amongst you, making you sensible, at the same time, what it is to incur the just displeasure of the Romans,”
After Titus had done speaking, he took Gisippus by the hand, and went out with him, knitting his brows, and showing all the marks of passion at those within the temple, whilst they, moved partly with the reasons he had given, and partly terrified with his last words, thought it better to admit him as a relation, since Gisippus had refused it, than to lose the alliance of one, and procure the enmity of the other. So they went with one accord, and told him, that they consented he should have Sophronia, and should esteem him as their kinsman, and Gisippus as their friend. Having made a solemn agreement with him to that effect, they departed, delivering Sophronia up to him; and she, being wise enough to make a virtue of necessity, immediately transferred to Titus the love she had borne to Gisippus, and went with him to Rome, where she was received with great honour and respect.
Gisippus continued at Athens in little esteem with the people, and powerful parties were now formed against him, insomuch that he was at length driven from the place, and doomed with all his family to perpetual banishment. Being thus destitute of all friends, and no better than a common beggar, he traveled, as well as he could to Rome, to see if Titus would take notice of him. Finding that his friend was alive, and in great favour with the people, he inquired for his house, and went thither, waiting till he should come past. Not daring to speak a word, on account of his poverty, he yet put himself in the way, in hopes that he would recollect and challenge him; but he passed by, and Gisippus, imagining that he had seen and despised him, and calling to mind what he had formerly done for him, went away confounded with grief and despair. It was now night, he had been fasting all that day, and being without a penny of money in his pocket, and desiring nothing so much as to die, he rambled about, without knowing whither, till he came to a solitary part of the city, where he found a great cavern, and went into it, intending to pass the night there; then laying himself down, almost naked, upon the hard ground, he wept himself asleep. To this place two thieves, who had been robbing all night, came with their booty towards break of day, and quarrelling together about it, one killed the other, and departed. This Gisippus perceiving, and thinking he had now found a way to die, without even laying hands upon himself, he stayed there till the officers, who had notice of the murder, came and hurried him violently away. Upon examination, he confessed that he had committed the deed, and had not the power afterwards to stir from the place. On this, Marcus Varro, who was the praetor, gave sentence that he should be crucified, as was the usual manner of death in those cases.