"I have not judged, lord," Marsyas protested.
"And thou wilt not until I have shown myself unworthy of thy confidence. Thou hast even now bespoken God's favor for me—be then, His instrument! Thou art the first ray of light in a decade of darkness that has enveloped me and mine!"
Marsyas put out his hand to the prince. The peril in the Herod blood, in his calculations, had dropped out of sight.
"What dost thou say to me, my prince?" he said. "How is it that thou beseechest me—me, the suppliant, praying thy help for mine own ends? But hear me! Thou aspirest to that place of which I have no knowledge, among peoples whose paths I never cross, into the calling of the great! Yet, though most unequipped to yield thee support, I am thy substance. Use me! Thou knowest my price."
Agrippa smiled.
"Though I die owing even mine embalmer, I shall pay thee that debt. I have said. And now to the process. What money hast thou?"
Agrippa was silent and Marsyas, watching his face, waited.
"I need," the prince said slowly, "twenty thousand."
Marsyas got upon his feet, and for a moment there was silence.
"I will get it for thee," he said.