Meanwhile Messallina was in the gardens of Lucullus, still striving to prolong her life, and composing supplications to the prince, sometimes in the language of hope, at others giving vent to rage and resentment, so indomitable was her insolence even under the immediate prospect of death. And had not Narcissus hastened her assassination, the doom which he had prepared for her would have recoiled upon himself. For Claudius, upon his return home, experienced a mitigation of his wrath, from the effects of a sumptuous repast; and as soon as he became warm with wine, he ordered them “to go and acquaint the miserable woman (for this was the appellation which he is said to have used) that to-morrow she should attend and plead her cause.” These words indicated that his resentment was abating, his wonted affection returning; besides, if they delayed, the effect of the following night, and the reminiscences which the conjugal chamber might awaken in Claudius, were matter for alarm. Narcissus therefore rushed forth, and directed the tribune and centurions then attending upon duty to despatch the execution, for such, he said, was the emperor’s command. With them he sent Euodus of the freedmen, as a watch upon them, and to see his orders strictly fulfilled. Euodus flew before them to the gardens, and found her lying along upon the earth; her mother, Lepida, sitting by her side--who during her prosperity had not lived in harmony with her, but, in this her extreme necessity, was overcome by compassion for her, and now persuaded her not to wait for the executioner: “the course of her life was run, and her only object now should be to die becomingly.” But a mind sunk and corrupted by debauchery retained no sense of honour; she was giving way to bootless tears and lamentations when from the shock of the approaching party the door flew open: the tribune stood in silence before her; but the freedman upbraided her with many and insolent reproaches, characteristic of the slave.