next morning to the camp with the exulting air of a conqueror.
The feelings of a beautiful and virtuous lady thus dishonoured may easier be conceived than described. Lucretia, however, behaved with composure and dignity. Having dressed herself in black, she ordered her chariot, and drove from Collatia to Rome. On entering the house of her father Lucretius, she threw herself at his feet, and embracing his knees, remained for some time bathed in tears, without uttering a word. He raised her affectionately, and asked what misfortune had befallen her. "To you, O father! I flee for refuge, under a dreadful and irreparable injury. In her calamities forsake not your daughter, who has suffered worse than death."
Struck with wonder and astonishment at what he heard and saw, her father desired her to say what injury she had sustained. "That," said Lucretia, "you will know too soon for your peace. In the mean time, assemble your friends and relations, that they may learn from my lips the shameful and severe necessity to which I have been compelled to submit, and that they may concert with you the means of revenge."
Lucretius accordingly invited to his house, by a hasty message, the most considerable of his kindred and connexions in Rome, both male and female. When they were assembled, Lucretia unfolded to them her melancholy tale, with all its cruel circumstances; then embracing her father, and recommending herself to him, to all present, and to the gods, the just avengers of guilt, she drew a dagger, which she had concealed beneath her robes, and plunging it into her breast, at one stroke pierced her heart. The women, distracted with grief, beat their bosoms, and filled the house with shrieks and
