And here before your grace I crave, that justice be extended,
That I may have my thrall again, and faults may be amended.
Virginius. Ah gods, that guide the globe above, what forged tales I hear!
O Judge Appius, bend your ears, while this my crime I clear.
She is my child, and of my wife her tender corpse did spring:
Let all the country where I dwell bear witness of the thing.
[Appius and Claudius go forth, but Appius speaketh this.
Nay, by the gods, not so, my friend, I do not so decree:
I charge thee here in pain of death thou bring the maid to me.
In chamber close, in prison sound, she secret shall abide,