ued her agonised
cry:

"A curse upon thee, Dea Flavia, a curse spoken by the dying lips of the
mother whom thou hast scorned!"

How she contrived momentarily to free herself from the angry crowd of
lictors and of slaves it were impossible to say; perhaps at this moment
something in Menecreta's wild ravings had awed their spirit and
paralysed their hands. Certain it is that for one moment the freedwoman
managed to struggle to her feet and to drag herself along on her knees
until her hands clutched convulsively the embroidered tunic of Dea
Flavia.

"And this is the curse which I pronounce on thee," she murmured in a
hoarse whisper, which, rising and rising to higher tones, finally ended
in shrieks which reached to the outermost precincts of the Forum. "Dea
Flavia, daughter of Octavius Claudius thou art accursed. May thine every
deed of mercy be turned to sorrow and to humiliation, thine every act of
pity prove a curse to him who receives it, until thou on thy knees, art
left to sue for pity to a heart that knoweth it not and findest a deaf
ear turned to thy cry. Hear me, ye gods--hear me!... Magna Mater, hear
me!... Mother of the stars--hear me!"

Superstition, deeply rooted in every Roman heart, held the crowd
enthralled even whilst Menecreta's trembling voice echoed against the
marble walls of the temples of the gods whom she invoked. No one
attempted to stop her. Dea Flavia's slaves dared not lay a hand on her.
It seemed as if Magna Mater herself, the great Mother, had thrown an
invisible mantle over the humble freedwoman, shielding her with god-like
power.

"Menecreta, raise thyself and come away," said a harsh voice in tones of
command. The praefect had at last with the vigorous help of his lictors
managed to push his way through the crowd. It was he now who attempted
to raise the woman from her knees. He sharply bade his own men to
silence the woman and to take her away.

Dea Flavia had remained silent and still. She had not attempted to
interrupt the frenzied woman who called this awful curse upon her; only
once, when Menecreta invoked the gods, did a shudder pass through the
delicate body, and her heavy lids fell over her blue eyes, as if they
were trying to shut out some awful vision which the woman's ravings had
conjured up.

Then in a sudden her mood seemed to change, her serenity returned, and
when the praefect interposed she put out a restraining hand, warning the
lictors not to approach.

She ben