[103] BRYONIA (the hedge-rape). Such professional poisoners are often mentioned. Locusta (“the grasshopper”) a contemporary and accomplice of the emperor Nero, was specially notorious. See Suet _Ner._, 33; Tac. _Ann._ XXII, 66; Juv. _Sat._ I, 71. Our Bryonia is not historical. CHAPTER XV. It was late in the afternoon, when Cornelia woke from her swoon-like sleep. She felt crushed and racked in every limb, and her head ached madly. She rose and went into the next room. The slave-girls were gone, and in the inner room she heard a clatter as of laying the table. She opened the door, and saw the two girls busy, with two Nubians dressed in yellow, in arranging a supper with costly Murrhina vessels, cups, wine-jugs, and flower-vases. The five-branched lamp that hung from the ceiling was lighted, and she could see that the walls were colored bright-red, while beautiful figures of the gods, each a masterpiece, stood out from this strong background. All the furniture was of pure silver, richly and tastefully wrought; particularly the couches, which were of fine incised work, and covered with sky-blue cushions. As she stood there a trap-door opened in the marble floor--the head and shoulders of a slave came up through it, and a fresh load of flowers, just gathered, were taken from him by the two slave-girls. “What does all this mean?” asked Cornelia. “It means, my pretty one,” said a voice in Greek, close at her elbow, “that it is nearly supper-time, and that Caesar will do you the great honor of permitting you to eat at the same table with himself.” She turned round, and before her, in full dress, stood Parthenius. “Such a favor is quite unmerited,” said Cornelia, summoning up all her courage. “I am wearied, worn out, almost too ill....” “Oh! the presence of the sovereign works wonders. Be fresh and gay, Cornelia. True wisdom is at home everywhere. Only children and old men pout to get their own way.” “But do you consider of what crime I am accused? Caesar derogates from his majesty, by sitting at table with a criminal.” “Oh! but clemency is the prerogative of the crown. One word from the sovereign wipes out any crime.” He nodded significantly, and went back into the outer room. Cornelia stood at if rooted to the spot; but presently, recovering her presence of mind, she rushed after Parthenius. She threw herself on the ground before him, and clasped his knees. “Let me go, take me away again--back to prison--straight to execution--wherever you will; only away from that hated presence, that hideous fate! Have pity, have mercy, Parthenius.” The courtier shrugged his shoulders.