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From the Basilicæ the Prætor passed,
(Thither when foiled in lust, to wreak his wrath
On guiltlessness and guilt alike, he went,)
Leaving his tyrant judgments, in a voice
Of jeering merriment pronounced, to fall
On less offending breakers of the law.
Prostrate upon his path, a mother cried,

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“Spare, Oh Proprætor! spare my guiltless child!
He walked not with conspirators—spake not
To leaders of sedition—spare him, judge!
He hath no father—and is all to me!”
 

Spacious and beautiful edifices appropriated to the Centumviri, the judges of the Roman Empire, over whom, by right of station, the Prætor always presided.