“I see not the value of this maxim; but to the third.”
“Never sleep in the house where the master is an old man and the wife a young woman. These three maxims, if attended to, my lord, will stand you in good stead.”
“We shall see,” said the king; “a year and a day for the trial of each, at the end of this time we will settle accounts.”
“Good master,” said the king’s jester, “wilt sell thy chance of the thousand florins for my fool’s cap?”
“Wait, and see what the end will be,” rejoined the merchant; “a year and a day hence I will return to see how my first maxim has fared. Farewell, my lord....”
The year and a day were nearly elapsed, and yet the first maxim had not been clearly proved. Domitian remained severely just, and the ill-intentioned of his nobles plotted his destruction in the hopes of indulging their vices more freely under the rule of his successor. Many were the plots they concocted to put him to death, but all were foiled by his foresight and prudence.
“Every failure,” said the conspirators at a midnight meeting, “brings danger nearer to ourselves.”
“Even so, brothers, but this time we will not fail,” said one of the number; “do ye not mind that I am the king’s barber; every day he bares his throat to my razor, it is but one slash, and we are free; promise me the crown: in return for this, I will give you freedom by the king’s death, and free license during my reign.”
“It is well spoken,” cried all the conspirators; “the barber shall be our king.”