"Yes," said Loysik slowly stepping towards the ivory stand on which lay the case of medals, "I would like to take with me this bronze medal; I would like to keep it with me during the short time of life that is left me. It will be sweet to me to die with my eyes fixed upon this glorious effigy."
"Let me see what medal that is—they are all mere antique curiosities. Truly, this woman is handsome, and proud under her Amazonian casque. What is the inscription here below? Victoria, Emperor. A woman an emperor?"
"The sovereign title was bestowed upon her after her death."
"She surely was of royal race?"
"She was of plebeian race."
"What was her life?"
"Simple—austere—illustrious! Her great soul was visible in her serenely grave features—an august countenance that this bronze has preserved for posterity. Her life was that of a chaste wife—a sublime mother—a brave Gallic woman. She never left her modest home but to follow her son to war, or to the camps. The soldiers worshipped her; they called her their mother. She brought up her son manfully in the love for his country and set him the example of the loftiest virtues. Her ambition—"
"This austere woman was ambitious!"
"As much as a mother may be for her son. Her ambition was to render that son a great citizen, the ardent desire of rendering him worthy of being chosen chief of Gaul by the people and the army."
"Brought up by so incomparable a mother, was he elected?"