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Updated: June 28, 2025
Tyrannicide, or the assassination of usurpers and oppressive princes, was highly extolled in ancient times; because it both freed mankind from many of these monsters, and seemed to keep the others in awe, whom the sword or poinard could not reach.
Their flowing linen robes were like the snow, and from their turbans gleamed gems of value. Each horseman bore at his girdle a purse, a kerchief, and a poinard; and in their purses lay two thousand dinars of gold. Slaves brought up the rear of the procession, riding asses laden with bales, and they led fifty blood-red bays caparisoned as for a tournament.
Her face is full in the light of the sun, and her green eyes sparkle. "Still alive?" she asked, without moving. I stood silent, with bowed head. "Give me back my poinard," she continued. "It is of no use to you. You haven't even the courage to take your own life." "I have lost it," I replied, trembling, shaken by chills. She looked me over with a proud, scornful glance.
After passionately charging Sextus Tarquin'ius with the basest perfidy towards her husband and injury to herself, she drew a poinard from beneath her robe, and instantly plunging it into her bosom, expired without a groan. 18.
I leaped up, and snatched the poinard, which hung beside her bed, from its sheath, and placed its point against my breast. "I shall kill myself here before your eyes," I murmured dully. "Do what you please," Wanda replied with complete indifference. "But let me go to sleep." She yawned aloud. "I am very sleepy." For a moment I stood as if petrified. Then I began to laugh and cry at the same time.
As yet the mind alone had suffered could I for ever put off the time, when the delicate frame and shrinking nerves of my child of prosperity, the nursling of rank and wealth, who was my companion, should be invaded by famine, hardship, and disease? Better die at once better plunge a poinard in her bosom, still untouched by drear adversity, and then again sheathe it in my own!
As a mark of appreciation, the people presented him with a magnificent poinard, sheathed in a richly carved scabbard, ornamented with a handle of artistic design, weighing, with the exception of the blade of fine steel, ten pounds solid silver.
Place in opposition the picture which Tacitus draws of Vitellius, fallen from empire, prolonging his ignominy from a wretched love of life, delivered over to the merciless rabble; tossed, buffeted, and kicked about; constrained, by their holding a poinard under his chin, to raise his head, and expose himself to every contumely. What abject infamy! What low humiliation!
He even raises the aged arm, that he may not fail in his aim at the heart, and replaces it again over the wounds of the poinard! To finish the picture, he explores the wrist for the pulse! He feels for it, and ascertains that it beats no longer! It is accomplished. The deed is done. He retreats, retraces his steps to the window, passes out through it as he came in, and escapes.
At length, having procured a ladder, he, with two of Augustus's soldiers, entered by the same window through which Antony had been drawn up. Cleopa'tra, perceiving what had happened, drew a poinard, that hung at her girdle, to stab herself; but Proculei'us forced it from her. 22.
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