his gift, and which she had worn on her arm even in death. But he
ere long controlled this display of feeling, ashamed to shed tears for
her who had cheated him and who had fled from his love. Only once
more did he sob aloud. Then he raised himself, and while holding his
handkerchief to his eyes he addressed the company with theatrical
pathos:

"Yes, my friends, tell whom you will that you have seen Bassianus weep;
but add that his tears flowed from grief at the necessity for punishing
so many of his subjects with such rigor. Say, too, that Caesar wept with
pity and indignation. For what good man would not be moved to sorrow
at seeing the sick and wounded thus maltreated? What humane heart could
refrain from loud lamentations at the sight of barbarity which is not
withheld from laying a murderous hand even on the sacred anguish of the
sick and wounded? Defend me, then, against those Romans who may shrug
their shoulders over the weakness of a weeping Caesar--the Terrible. My
office demands severity; and yet, my friends, I am not ashamed of these
tears."

With this he took leave of his guests and retired to rest, and those
who remained were soon agreed that every word of this speech, as well
as Caesar's tears, were rank hypocrisy. The mime Theocritus admired
his sovereign in all sincerity, for how rarely could even the greatest
actors succeed in forcing from their eyes, by sheer determination, a
flood of real, warm tears--he had seen them flow. As Caesar quitted the
room, his hand on the lion's mane, the praetor Priscillianus whispered
to Cilo:

"Your disciple has been taking lessons here of the weeping crocodile."

.........................

Out on the great square the soldiers were resting after the day's bloody
work. They had lighted large fires in front of the most sacred sanctuary
of a great city, as though they were in the open field. Round each of
these, foot and horse soldiers lay or squatted on the ground, according
to their companies; and over the wine allowed them by Caesar they told
each other the hideous experiences of the day, which even those who had
grown rich by it could not think of without disgust. Gold and silver
cups, the plunder of the city, circulated round those camp-fires and the
juice of the vine was poured into them out of jugs of precious metal.
Tongues were wagging fast, for, though there was indeed but one opinion
as to what had been done, there were mercenaries enough and ambitio