retorted, trusting to the inspiration of the moment; for she had no
method with him.

"I would willingly die," she said, "if you would give the love you have
bestowed on me to Rome instead, and use your godlike energy in ruling
wisely, rather than in killing men and winning chariot races. One
Marcia does not matter much. One Commodus can--"

"Can love his Marcia!" he interrupted, with a high-pitched laugh. He
seized her, nearly crushing out her breath. "A Caius and a Caia we have
been! By Jupiter, if not for you and Paulus I would have left Rome long
ago to march in Alexander's wake! I would have carved me a new empire
that did not stink so of politicians!"

He strode into the anteroom where all the gladiators waited and
Narcissus had to follow him--well named enough, for he was lithe and
muscular and beautiful, but, nonetheless, though taller, not to be
compared with Commodus--even as the women, chosen for their good looks
and intelligence, who hastened to reappear the moment the emperor's back
was turned, were nothing like so beautiful as Marcia.

In all the known world there were no two finer specimens of human
shapeliness than the tyrant who ruled and the woman whose wits and
daring had so long preserved him from his enemies.

"Come to the arena," he called back to her. "Come and see how Hercules
throws javelins from a chariot at full pelt!"

But Marcia did not answer, and he forgot her almost before he reached
the entrance of the private tunnel through which he passed to the arena.