of the god. He will visit on this city the crimes it has committed
against you; and I implore you, in the name of your noble and admirable
mother--whom it has been my privilege to entertain under this roof, and
who in gratitude for the favors of Serapis--"

"And have I grudged sacrifices?" Caesar broke in. "I have done my
utmost to win the graces of your god--and with what success? Everything
that can most aggrieve the heart of man has befallen me here under his
eyes. I have as much reason to complain of him as to accuse the
reprobate natives of your city. He, no doubt, knows how to be avenged;
the three-headed monster at his feet does not look like a lap-dog. Why,
he would despise me if I should leave the punishment of the criminals to
his tender mercies! Nay, I can do that for myself. Though you have seen
me in many cases show mercy, it has always been for my mother's sake.
You have done well to remind me of her. That lady--she is, I know, a
votary of your god. But to me the Alexandrians have dared to violate the
laws of hospitality; to her they were cordial hosts. I will remember
that in their favor. And if many escape unpunished, I would have the
traitors to know that they owe it to the hospitality shown to my mother
by their parents, or perhaps by themselves."

He was here interrupted by the arrival of Aristides, who entered in
great haste and apparently pleased excitement. His spies had seized a
malefactor who had affixed an epigram of malignant purport to the statue
of Julia Domna in the Caesareum. The writer was a pupil of the Museum,
and had been taken in the stadium, where he was boasting of his exploit.
A spy, mingling with the crowd, had laid hands on him, and the captain of
the watch had forthwith hurried to the Serapeum to boast of a success
which might confirm him in his yet uncertain position. The rough sketch
of the lines had been found on the culprit, and Aristides held the