“Only a partisan of the sect could have poured such lies into your ear....”
“I was, by accident, witness to a discussion,” Quintus stammered out. “And I will pledge my life and honor as to the truth of what I have said!”
“The truth!” laughed his father. “For the truth of your own view of the matter at most. By the gods, but I really do not understand how my son, of all men, should have come to be a defender of this accursed sect! However, be it so! I leave you the free exercise of your judgment; the course of events will soon rectify it. Meanwhile, you will perhaps allow me to carry out the line of action, which I have cautiously weighed with solemn appeals to my conscience.”
“Then you want to conjure the age of Nero from the grave?”
“Yes, my son. The age of Nero was not so bad, though the unbridled Caesar himself committed many crimes. His fight against the Nazarenes wipes out all scores.”
“Then you can praise him for having wrapped Nazarenes in tow and rosin, and set fire to it?”
“Those are mere foolish tales, invented by contemptible writers, who were at a loss for color in their pictures.”
“What? Things that all the world knows, a fable!”
“As you say.”
The blood mounted to the young man’s brow.