"
The Lady Lucia turned to her daughter with a look of inquiry.
"Brave words are not enough," said the fair Roman maiden, smiling, as
her eyes fell.
Then came the effeminate Gracus, in head-dress and neckerchief, frilled
robe and lady's sandals. He was of great sires who had borne the Roman
eagles into Gaul.
"Good lady," said he, "I would give my life."
"And had I more provocation," said Arria, raising a jewelled bodkin, "I
would take it."
Now the splendid Antipater, son of Herod the Great, was up and
speaking. "I offer," said he, "my heart and wealth and half my hopes,
and the jewels of my mother, and a palace in the beautiful city of
Jerusalem."
"And a pretty funeral," the girl remarked, thoughtfully. "Jerusalem is
half-way to Hades."
The Roman matron turned, and put her arm around the waist of the girl
and drew her close. A young man rose from his chair and approached
them. He was Vergilius, son of Varro, and of equestrian knighthood.
His full name was Quintus Vergilius Varro, but all knew the youth by
his nomen.
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