Arvina smiled in calm contempt of his impotent resentment.
The culprit, the accuser, and the judge passed inward; the door closed heavily behind them; the crowd dispersed; the soldiery marched onward; and the street, in front of the Fulvian House, was left dark and silent.
An hour perhaps had passed, when the door was again opened, and the aged plebeian, Icilia's father, issued into the dark street.
"Scourged!" he cried, with a wild triumphant laugh, "Scourged, like a slave, at his own father's bidding! Rejoice, exult, Icilia! thy shame is half avenged!"
CHAPTER II.
THE CONSULAR COMITIA.
Your voices!
Coriolanus.