“Come close, good Romans, and open your ears! For I will tell of a man who held Rome’s honour higher than life—higher even than mountains of gold!”

The year was grim. Pyrrhus, king of Epirus—great captain, victor of many lands—had crossed the sea with his elephants and spears, and the earth shook beneath his tread. Twice he broke our legions, twice the field ran red—but Rome, by the gods, would not bow her neck! For every man slain, another took his place; for every loss, our will grew like iron in the forge.

At last, Pyrrhus sent envoys to speak fair words, to tempt us with sweet honey. They came to Gaius Fabricius, Roman commander—poor in silver, rich in honour.

They whispered: "Why spend your years in toil and war? Our king will heap gold upon you—he will make you lord of lands, if you will only bend the Senate’s will to peace on his terms!"

Fabricius looked on them—and laughed. A laugh sharp as a spear’s point!

"Tell your king," he said, "that to me, gold is no brighter than iron—aye, iron that Rome wields to guard her freedom! Rome does not sell her sword, nor her soul. As for me—I would sooner rule over poverty with virtue than over kingdoms with shame!"

The envoys slunk away like dogs whipped from the feast. But Pyrrhus, curious at such sternness, summoned Fabricius to his camp, to test this man of marble. There in the royal tent, the king spread couches of purple, dishes of silver, meats dripping fat—but Fabricius ate his lentils and smiled.

Then Pyrrhus tried another trick.

“Tomorrow,”  he said, “I will show him a marvel such as Italy has never seen!”

And when dawn came, the trumpets brayed, and from the forest thundered a beast vast as a tower, tusks white as snow—a war elephant! Its trunk curled, its roar split the sky, and slaves cried out in terror.

Pyrrhus watched, thinking, “Now the Roman’s heart will quail!”

But Fabricius? He did not flinch, nor pale, nor stir from his seat. He gazed upon the monster as calmly as on an ox in the field.

Then he turned to Pyrrhus and said with a smile: "Your gold could not move me—did you think your beast would fare better? King, you wage war with tricks and terror. Rome wars with steel—and with men who fear nothing save dishonour!"

Pyrrhus marvelled then, and spoke truth: "If I had but men like Fabricius, I would conquer the world—or rather, I would rule it justly!"

And so, citizens, the tale was told for centuries—that virtue is the true wealth of Rome, richer than gold, mightier than elephants! For kings may fall, and empires crumble—but honour outlasts the marble of their palaces.