When she had gone Pilate summoned servants. "Set the palms to make a garden," he commanded. "Call the torch-bearers and make of them a flaming pathway. Summon the musicians. Let there be haste!"
In a very short time the palm grove was in order and a blast of music sounded. Claudia returned smiling, and all eyes turned to the curtained entrance at the far end of the aisle of palms. The first glimpse of the little Greek slave was that of a fairy dancing into the shadowy background. Her white and shapely body sparkled as if powdered with diamond dust and the veil that floated about her was woven of fine and shining threads in rainbow tints. For a time she flitted up and down between the palms and rows of torch-light bearers standing like purple statues, while Pilate and the guests drank to her grace and beauty and cheered her skill. At a signal from the Procurator the dancing stopped. "Thus doth Greece show her grace," he said to his guests. "Now wouldst thou see Rome dance?"
"Yea—but Rome is not Greece in the art."
"Bid thy eunuch to come," Pilate said, addressing Claudia.
Without asking questions, for Pilate was growing too merry with wine to answer them, Claudia summoned her slave.
"Come hither, thou scar-ridden eunuch!" Pilate shouted as he entered the place. "Wrap thy broad back in this wolf hide and take thou a helmet and spear—so! Now, musicians, pipe thee a tune that will be wild like the wrath of the gods. No music now to make a butterfly flit, but thunder for the beast that maketh the earth tremble. Ready! On with the dance!"
The big slave cast a glance of appeal at his mistress, but she motioned him to obey. Then the eunuch, wrapped in the great wolf robe, danced, heavy and without grace.
"Stay!" Pilate called. "Ye gods! Rome was not built to dance. Thy legs are like tree trunks, thy back like a ship. To gain possession of Greece, this is Rome's glory. Rome, pursue thou Greece. Tantalize her as doth a cat torment a mouse. Aye, now, slave girl, take to yonder forest of palms and elude him who follows, for the wolf of Rome is on thy track. And thou, oh, Rome, dog thy fair prey, as the sword of Caesar doth dog that which it would possess. Away to the woods! Fly, Greece, fly! On with the dance!"
To weird music the girl began an elusive dance in and out among the palms but ever under the moving glare of a flaming torch. The eunuch, like some shaggy monster, doggedly followed her. After some minutes of this dancing-chase, Pilate cried, "This is but play! Rome by the strength in his arms can pick Greece away from the earth. Come thou, Rome and Greece, dance close! Greece—evade the powerful arm that seeks to draw thee beneath the wolf's tawny hide! Dance! Dance! Dance away from Rome! Harder! Faster! Fiercer! He comes nearer! His hand doth touch thee. Aye—watch! He comes closer. Hear his heart thump with eagerness to seize thee? Feel his hot breath? He is about to seize thee! He taketh thee, Greece! Thou art disappearing under the hide of the wolf!"
As the wild dance neared its end, Pilate became so aroused he rushed back and forth across the room in imitation of first one dancer then the other, while his guests roared with laughter. And when the eunuch seized the slave girl and gathered her under the thick fur, her screams were those of honest fear for she knew not what might be in store for her. "Scream—scream again!" shouted Pilate. "I like it. Aye, to the heart of Rome stifled by the pious air of Jerusalem, screaming is like new wine! Scream once again!" Again the slave girl's cry was heard from under the wolf hide. "Thou doest well. Come forth and from the golden cup of Pontius Pilate, held in his own hand, shalt thou drink. Aye, thou doest well," he repeated as she came toward him. "To the heart of Rome screams are dear. Here's to thy screaming, and here's to Rome forever!" and he lifted the cup.