The fatal day arrived, and the nuptials of Lucia Claudia were celebrated with all the magnificence befitting her high rank, as well as with those heathen rites her Christian profession taught her to consider impious. Arrayed in saffron robes, and splendidly adorned with jewels, the bride, unveiled, sat, according to custom, in the centre of her own sitting-room to receive the farewell visits of her relations, and the congratulations of her friends. The slaves of both sexes were freely permitted to take their leave and pay their compliments on this occasion. Adonijah, unable to absent himself, came with them, resolving at first to avoid looking at the betrothed of Nymphidius, till a fatal curiosity attracted his attention to her. Surrounded by the great and gay, Lucia Claudia, among her maidens, looked pale and victim-like, till she saw Adonijah, when a burning blush flushed her cheeks, and tears rushed to her eyes; then, restraining her feelings, though with effort, she became tintless as before. She received the presents lavished upon her without any of that pleasure so naturally manifested by the bride about to be united to the object of her choice. This ceremony gone through, she sat still and motionless as a statue till the steps of the bridegroom and his train were heard approaching, then her heart beat audibly, and she turned one last, last look upon her lover; that look expressed all her love, regret, and despair. This lingering tenderness still clung to the bosom of the injured maid, notwithstanding her wrongs, and filled it with tenfold bitterness. Nymphidius approached to lead her to the temple of Juno Juga, whither all present followed the ill-matched pair. Adonijah stood by during the ceremony that united Lucia Claudia to the object of her detestation. He saw her given, with abhorrent heathen rites, to another. He beheld her shudder while the priest placed the vervain garland and nuptial veil upon her brow, and the ring on her finger; for he knew and felt that she loved him alone, cruel and treacherous as he was, even while giving her hand to his rival. Adorned with all the insignia of marriage, the bride sustained her firmness till the hour arrived when Nymphidius and Julius raised her in their arms, according to custom, to bear her to her future home. Then her constancy appeared to forsake her, for her struggles were real, and her cries expressed the genuine character of her despair. Far above the Epithalamium they were heard, and she was borne over the threshold with actual, not counterfeited, violence, so deep was the feeling of abhorrence with which she regarded the man to whom she had just given her hand.[13]