"For whom then?"
"For Pertinax."
Sextus seized the plate on which the several ingredients were being mixed.
"Put that down," said Galen. "I will poison part of him—the mean part."
"Speak in plain words, Galen!"
"I will slay his indecision. He and Marcia propose; that I shall kill their monster. I shall mix a draught for Marcia to take to him—in case this, and in case that, and perhaps. In plain words, Commodus has sent for Livius and none knows how much Livius has told. Their monster writes and scratches out and rewrites long proscription lists, and Marcia trembles for her Christians. For herself she does not tremble. She has ten times Pertinax' ability to rule. If Marcia were a man she should be emperor! Our Pertinax is hesitating between inertia and doubt and dread of Cornificia's ambition for him; between admiration of his own wife and contempt for her; between the subtleties of auguries and common sense; between trust and mistrust of us all, including Marcia and you and me; between the easy dignity of being governor of Rome and the uneasy palace—slavery of being Caesar; between doubt of his own ability to rule and the will to restore the republic."
"We all know Pertinax," said Sextus. "He is diffident, that is all. He is modest. Once he has made his decision—"
Galen interrupted him
"Then let us pray the gods to make the rest of us immodest! The decision that he makes is this: If Commodus has heard of the conspiracy; if Commodus intends to kill him, he will then allow somebody else to kill Commodus! He will permit me, who am a killer only by professional mistake and not by intention, to be made to kill my former pupil with a poisoned drink! You understand, not even then will Pertinax take resolution by the throat and do his own work."
"So Pertinax shall drink this?"