“What are you going to do?” “You will see--Oh! the chains of my love are not so easily shaken off.” She went to the door and knocked at it; the governor and the gaoler appeared at the summons. “You can keep me here,” she said; “I too am a Nazarene.” “She is raving!” said Quintus horrified. “She came to persuade me to renounce Christianity.” “Your eloquence has converted me,” she retorted scornfully. “Governor, do your duty. I confess myself guilty. The God of the Nazarenes is the only true God. Your Jupiter is a foolish, ridiculous image.” The governor shook his head in bewilderment. “Follow me then,” he said doubtfully; “I will inform the city-prefect.” “Quintus--farewell!” cried Cornelia, with a triumphant glance at her lover. “Think better of it, Quintus! or else we meet again face to face with the beasts in the arena!” Quintus stood petrified. The door was shut, the bolts rattled--their steps died away--he was alone. FOOTNOTES: [98] YOUR POETS PRAISE TENACITY AS THE CROWN OF GLORY. See for instance the well-known “_Justum ac tenacem_,” etc., (Hor. _Od._, III, 3.) [99] SILENUS. (Σειληνός.) Son of Hermes and a nymph, the constant companion of Bacchus. “He is the very image of an elderly satyr, a perpetually-intoxicated, jovial, good-natured old man with a baldpate and snub-nose, fat and rotund as a wine-skin, from which he is inseparable. His own feet can rarely carry him; he usually rides on a donkey, or is led and supported by satyrs. He delights in music and song as well as wine.” Silenus had a temple at Elis. CHAPTER XIV. On the following day Titus Claudius presented himself a second time as a petitioner at the palace. Thus, under stress of circumstances, within a few hours the haughty man had twice been forced into a position which he had carefully avoided his whole life long. There was to-day no public reception. Caesar had risen late, and now, when the sun was already high over the Caelian hill, he was sitting with Clodianus and Parthenius in a room looking to the south-east. He knew full well why Titus Claudius craved an audience, for the city-prefect had informed him the day before of the strange occurrence in the Tullianum. When the high-priest perceived on entering, that the emperor was not alone, he involuntarily paused for an instant. Hitherto, when serious matters were under discussion, he had always enjoyed the privilege of a tête-à-tête interview with Caesar, and the letter in which he had asked admission to-day had expressly stated, that the occasion was strictly personal and private.