Virgilia or, Out of the Lion's Mouth

two thousand years ago. One hundred thousand men and women sat on its tiers of white mar

the coat-of-arms of the Roman people. Here sat one of the most cruel emperors Rome has ever suffered under. His cloak was

om Oriental lands, while their necks and arms were loaded with strings of pearls and emeralds, armlets of tawny gold in Etruscan de

ts and artisans, women of every rank, from the highest lady of the land to the humblest washerwoman who beat

y were mother and daughter. The man was plainly the father, a stalwart Roman, a lawyer, who had his office in the courts of the Forum, wher

he signal. Their thumbs are reversed. The Emperor, also, is signalling for a cessation of the fight.

ced that her eyes were full of tears and that she shi

ing their way down the steps to the ground, Aurelius Lucanus drew her frail hand

er her face a light, filmy veil, effectually shielding her fr

ost thou cry,

at she was out of hearing, whispered in his ea

d her safely out into the blazing sunshine. The sun was still an hour above the horizon; the pine-trees on

of the gods, stopped to lay a bunch of roses on the base of a large statue of Ceres

front of her walked the two men who held high the symbols of her priestly office. Claudia fell up

other, with an anxious

"Dost not know that in her hands she holds such power that even the emperor himself t

the great arches, up over the Capitoline Hill where Jupiter's Temple arose in grandeur, i

ts, winding in and out between rows of houses, most of them showing a pl

s, the lawyer summoned a servant, who bowed de

. Around the fountain, which cooled the air, bloomed literally hundreds of calla lilies, masses of stately blossoms with snowy chalices and hearts of gold. Around the pil

ry, and couches, gracefully formed, covered wi

o remove the white outer garment, worn upon the street to cover the c

ersing with the d

s returned?

two hours after noon, but wen

ng no

mas

deep scar. He had never forgotten how he got that scar, how he had fallen beneath a blow struck by that man's hand, the man who owned his body, but not his soul. In fall

e had not

like thy step-brother, Martius, self-willed and foolish. Why else has he been exiled from Rome by thy father? He h

which stopped the stream of language, and made Claudia sit up

ughter of mine! Thou shall go forth from here, homeless, an outcast. Join thyself with the beggar

hter in his arms. "Canst thou not see that the child is fainting?

ave I suspected that Virgilia had been infected by this poisonous virus, this doctrine of a malef

voice, "Martius has returned to his fat

g in a rich voice, vibrant with feeling, sprang forward, knelt at Clau

e world mad, she could have loved this fine-looking young man, whose auburn curls fell over a white foreh

ured, Martius? Then ar

f what,

aken worship

ved Martius for himself and for his mother, whom he resembled. The lawyer was also, only too well aware of the danger run by all those who called themselves followers of Christus. The worst had not yet come. There were onl

ht that her soul's salvation depended on it; Claudia's soul was her chief thought. But would sh

nherited the fine, cameo-like profile of her mother, but her hair was fair and very abundant. It was bound around her head in heavy bra

s gleamed ghostly white among their long green leaves. The odor of the jessamine was heavy on the evening air, overpowering in its sweetness. A servant entered and lighted torches

her dark hair and on her bosom, her face set and stern. It shone upon the young Virgilia and Martius

clear as the sun-down bell which had jus

am a Ch

lining on the triclinium in the long room tinted in Pompeian red, a frieze three feet in width ran around the walls. Small, chubby cherubs, or cupids doing the work of men, weaving draperies, preparing food, chopping meat, plucking grapes and carrying them away in miniature whe

m Boarium, dressed with oil from the groves of Lucca and vinegar made of sour red wine. Then came a delicious pudding, made from honey brought from H

d taxed her strength. This, her anxiety for her mother and the unusual heat of the evening caused her to feel faint, so that she excused herself and went away, climbing a narrow staircase to the flat, tiled roof. He

, old as human life. Ought she to obey her mother, or God? To do the former, meant to stifle her conscience and destroy her inner

ped her slender white

If God would only sh

the Palatine Hill. There was revelry yonder. The notes of flutes and harps came faintly to her ears. Below, wound the Tiber, back and forth, like the coils of a huge, glistenin

antinople and Egypt, carpets and costly stuffs, richly wrought in gold, filmy tissue

he figures gliding out on the cobble-stoned Appian Way were members of Caesar's household, and one or two tall Praetorian guards. The religion of Christ had found conver

war after a victorious conquest by the Romans in North Africa. They were by descent, Moors, having dark skins but very regular, even classical features. Sahira, the slave, walked like a queen and was so proud tha

Sahira, in her velvet voice. "I thin

come a

ptember blew strongly from the West and the calla lilies and jessamine had long since withered in the garden before Claud

near. She ignored the ministrations of the slave Sahira, whose heart warmed to only one person except her father, and that was her beautiful mistress. Sahira cast angry looks at Virgilia's fair head, bendi

to the servants. He succeeded in finding out the thing that caused her sorrow. When he went away th

a had never refused to twine the garlands to be laid on the altars of the household gods or at the feet of the special god which Claudia worshipped in her own room. She had not refused because she felt that it wo

oon when, if she was loyal to her faith, she must

ht of that dread time, for she was very delicate and her mother's will was strong. How could she defy her mother? It was an awfu

rength to