Now it happened, by good chance, that Titus came into the hall at the very time, and looking attentively in the prisoner’s face, and hearing the cause of his condemnation, he instantly knew him to be Gisippus. He wondered, therefore, greatly at this change of fortune, and what could bring him thither, and was determined, at all events, to save him: but seeing no other way but by accusing himself, he stepped resolutely forward, and called aloud to the praetor in this manner: “Marcus Varro, recall thy sentence; for the person whom thou hast condemned to die is innocent: it was I who offended the gods by the murder of that man whom the officers found slain this morning: then do not offend them still more by the murder of another innocent person.” Varro was quite astonished, and grieved to that degree, that the whole hall heard him; but not being able, with regard to his own honour, to alter the course of the laws, he ordered Gisippus to come back, and said in the presence of Titus, “How couldst thou be so foolish to confess, without any torture, a crime whereof thou art no way guilty, and which would affect thy life? Thou saidst thou wast the person that slew the man, and now here is another come, who says it was not thou, but he, that did it.” Gisippus lifted up his eyes, and saw that it was Titus, when concluding that it was done out of a grateful remembrance of the favours he had received, he burst into tears, and said, “Indeed, sir, I did murder him, and Titus’s regard for my safety comes now too late.” Titus, on the other hand, said, “Marcus Varro, take notice, this man is a stranger, and was found without any arms, by the man’s side that was murdered; it is only his poverty that makes him so desirous of dying; then set him at liberty, and punish me, who have deserved it.” Varro was greatly astonished at the pressing instances of both, presuming that neither the one nor the other was guilty; and as he was thinking of a method how they might both be acquitted, behold, a young fellow named Publius Ambustus, one of a notorious character, and who had actually done the thing, had the humanity, seeing each accusing himself, to come before the praetor, and say, “Sir, the Fates have forced me hither, to solve this difficulty. Some god or power within me spurs me on to make a confession of my own guilt. Know, therefore, that neither of these people, who are impeaching themselves, was any way accessary. I murdered the man early this morning, and this poor wretch was there asleep, whilst I and the man who is killed were dividing our spoil. As for Titus, there is no occasion for my vindicating him; his character is without reproach. Set them both, then, at liberty, and let me suffer what the laws require.” The affair was soon told to Octavius Caesar, who, being desirous of knowing why they wanted so much to suffer, had all three brought before him, when each related fully how the thing really was. Thereupon he set the two friends at liberty, because they were innocent, and pardoned the third also for their sakes.
Titus then took his friend Gisippus by the hand, and, after reproving him for his distrust of his friendship, brought him to his own house, where Sophronia received him with the same affection as if he had been her brother; and giving him clothes suitable to his worth and quality, he afterwards divided his whole substance with him, and bestowed a sister of his, named Fulvia, an agreeable young lady, upon him in marriage, saying, “Gisippus, you have your free choice whether to stay with me, or to go, with what I have given you, into Greece;” but he, moved partly by his exile, and partly by his love and friendship for Titus, agreed to stay at Rome, where they all lived together in one house, he with his Fulvia, and Titus with his fair Sophronia, to their mutual satisfaction, every day adding something, if possible, to their felicity.