Constantius, in exquisite and flattering terms, invited his tenderly-loved cousin to come to Milan. At the same time the Emperor summoned the two legions lodged at Antioch, the only bodyguard left to Gallus. Constantius designed thus to leave him defenceless and draw his rival into the snare. When Gallus had recovered presence of mind he murmured weakly—
"Call my wife!"
"Your Majesty's Imperial consort has just set out for Antioch."
"What! She knows nothing of this?"
"No."
"My God, my God! What is to be done? What can be done without her? Tell the envoy of the Emperor—No, say nothing to him—I scarcely know—How is it possible to arrive at a decision alone? Send a swift post to Constantia.... Say that Cæsar begs her to return! My God, what is to be done?"
He paced up and down distractedly, now hiding his face in his hands, now nervously twisting his fair beard and repeating, "No, no, nothing in the world will induce me to go. I would rather die! Ah! I know Constantius!"
Another messenger came up, a scroll in his hand.
"From the spouse of Cæsar! Her Highness in leaving begged you to sign this as soon as possible."
"What! Another sentence of death?... Clement of Alexandria ... this is really too much. Three a day...."