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Of course you have called him a thief; you, like a professional

prosecutor (famed throughout this empire for your double pitch), a 

vociferous accuser, and a perpetual complainer:  thus, we expected

you to declare this latest victim a thief.  And what was it he

thiefed away from you---three assets, only three assets, two of

which are so realistically undervalued that they are hardly worth

their recent entries on your already massively extensive balance and 

inventory sheet.  And thus, after these three, you accused him to the

occupying authority, and its local authority in the vicinity of the

thefts where the three assets (two of which I am loathe to mention in

your presence).  And the evidence offered was deemed sufficient to

efficiently convict.  Because he was doulos, a bond-man, and no

citizen, he was sentenced to be crucified---in the name of Tiberius,

who imposes (without imposture) the Will of the Senate and People of

Rome.  Thus always to thieves:  a cross, and not a galley's oar, was and

always shall be the most appropriate; the excruciating agony of dying

reminded him, every moment he was suspended on that death-shaped

timber, the reason for which he died.  And there, he succumbed, and the

assets he had filched still were not returned, although you are

well informed of the whereabouts---exactly where and by whom they

are kept.  But, while you were still gloating, the thief---yes, that

very one, infiltrated the ancient vaults and vast barns that were

filled with assets; and from your chief servant, he wrested the

very keys which he now holds in perpetuity, he who had made a theft

even of himself from that borrowed tomb, after having seized all of 

your property and delivered each and every item to his father.

J-Called