"Nay, but of that groaning of the rowers. It tells me of aching arms in the galley. I cannot sleep at night, hearing it."
Appius laughed with amusement. "Little fool!" said he. "The slaves of
Tepas are all Jews."
"But they are men," said the beautiful girl; "and do you not understand, dear brother? I love a man."
"Love!" exclaimed Appius, with contempt, "'Tis only as the longing of the bird for its mate."
"Nay, I would give all for him I love."
"Not all," said he, with a look of surprise.
"Yes, all—even you, and my mother, and my home, and my country, and my life—I am sick with longing. And when I think of him I cannot bear to see men suffer."
"You are gone mad," said Appius, "and I pray the gods to bring you back. It may be the fair Vergilius forgets you."
She turned, quickly, and her voice trembled as she whispered: "Nay, he also has the great love in him. He could not forget."
Cyran, the pretty slave-girl, came soon with their evening repast.
Arria bade her sit beside them.