Quintus, under the stormy fervor of this declaration, felt an uneasy mistrust which he tried in vain to repress. This despotic “mine--mine” gave him a sensation as of the grip of a siren. He involuntarily rose. “My good fortune takes my breath away!” he said in flattering accents; doubly flattering to atone for the hasty impulse by which he had stood up. “But now grant my bold desire, and let me see your face. Let me know who it is, that vouchsafes me such unparalleled favors.” “You cannot guess?” she whispered reproachfully. “And yet it is said, that the eyes of love are keen. Quintus, my beloved, Fate denies us all open and unchecked happiness; it is in secret only that your lips may ever meet mine. But you know that true love mocks at obstacles--nay more, the flowers that blossom in the very valley of death are those that smell sweetest.” Quintus drew back a step. “Once more,” he insisted, “tell me who you are?” The tall figure raised a beautiful arm, that shone like Parian marble in the moonlight, and slowly lifted her veil. “The Empress!”[94] cried Quintus dismayed. “Not ‘the Empress’ to you, my Quintus--to you Domitia, hapless, devoted Domitia, who could die of love at your feet.” Quintus stood immovable. “Fear nothing,” she said smiling. “No listener is near to desecrate the perfect bliss of this moonlit night.” “Fear?” retorted Quintus. “I am not a girl, to go into fits in a thunder-storm. What I resolve on I carry out to the end, though the end be death! Besides, I know full well, that your favors bloom in secret places--as silent and as harmless as the roses in a private garden.” Domitia turned pale. “And what do you mean by that?” she asked shuddering. “You live far away from Caesar, your husband; you are served by spies; your palace is a labyrinth with a hundred impenetrable chambers....” “Indeed!” said Domitia, controlling her excitement. “But still, I saw you start. What dismayed you so much, if it was not the suspicion of danger?” “You know,” answered the young man hesitating, “that I am one of those who are ranked as Caesar’s friends.[95] A friend--though merely an official friend--cannot betray the man he is bound to defend.” Domitia laughed loudly. “Fine speeches, on my word!” she exclaimed scornfully. “Friendship, for the executioner who cuts your head off! Fidelity to a bloodthirsty ruffian! No, Quintus--I know better. You are staunch, but not from fidelity--from prudence!” Quintus struck his breast proudly with his hand. “You force me,” he said, “to speak the truth, in spite of my desire to spare you. You must know then, that Quintus Claudius thinks better of himself than to stoop to be the successor of an actor!” “Mad fool! what are you saying....” “What I was bound to say. You thought I was afraid; I am only proud. No, and if you were Cypris[96] in person I should disdain you no less, in spite of every charm. Never will I touch the lips, that have been kissed by a buffoon--a slave.”[97]