The exaltation of the people increased. They abandoned themselves to
dreams of independence. They recalled the glory of Israel, and a Syrian
spoke of all the great conquerors they had vanquished,--Antigone,
Crassus, Varus.

"Miserable creatures!" cried the enraged proconsul, who had overheard
the Syrian's words.

In the midst of the uproar Antipas remembered the medallion of the
emperor that Herodias had given to him; he drew it forth and looked at
it a moment, trembling, then held it up with its face turned towards the
throng.

At the same moment, the panels of the gold-railed balcony were folded
back, and, accompanied by slaves bearing wax tapers, Herodias appeared,
her coiffure crowned with an Assyrian mitre, which was held in place
by a band passing under the chin. Her dark hair fell in ringlets over a
scarlet peplum with slashed sleeves. On either side of the door through
which one stepped into the gallery, stood a huge stone monster, like
those of Atrides; and as Herodias appeared between them, she looked
like Cybele supported by her lions. In her hands she carried a patera,
a shallow vessel of silver used by the Romans in pouring libations;
and, advancing to the front of the balcony and pausing just above the
tetrarch's chair, she cried:

"Long live Caesar!"

This homage was repeated by Vitellius, Antipas, and the priests.

But now, beginning at the farthest end of the banqueting-hall, a murmur