And it did not occur to her that, though she told the truth, her words meant, “Be resigned to fate and become the concubine of Vinicius.”
As to Lygia, who felt on her lips yet his kisses, burning as coals and full of beastly desire, the blood rushed to her face with shame at the mere thought of them.
“Never,” cried she, with an outburst, “will I remain here, or at the house of Vinicius,—never!”
“But,” inquired Acte, “is Vinicius hateful to thee?”
Lygia was unable to answer, for weeping seized her anew. Acte gathered the maiden to her bosom, and strove to calm her excitement. Ursus breathed heavily, and balled his giant fists; for, loving his queen with the devotion of a dog, he could not bear the sight of her tears. In his half-wild Lygian heart was the wish to return to the triclinium, choke Vinicius, and, should the need come, Cæsar himself; but he feared to sacrifice thereby his mistress, and was not certain that such an act, which to him seemed very simple, would befit a confessor of the Crucified Lamb.
But Acte, while caressing Lygia, asked again, “Is he so hateful to thee?”
“No,” said Lygia; “it is not permitted me to hate, for I am a Christian.”
“I know, Lygia. I know also from the letters of Paul of Tarsus, that it is not permitted to defile one’s self, nor to fear death more than sin; but tell me if thy teaching permits one person to cause the death of others?”
“No.”
“Then how canst thou bring Cæsar’s vengeance on the house of Aulus?” A moment of silence followed. A bottomless abyss yawned before Lygia again.