th one voice, and all that
evening until the wine overcame them, talked of nothing else. Also they
continued talking on the morrow, until at length the fame of the thing
came to the ears of Nero, who also is an artist of music and other
things. The end of it was that one day, without warning, the Emperor
visited my house and demanded to see the bust, which I showed to him.
For many minutes he examined it through the emerald with which he aids
his sight, then asked:

"'What land had the honour to bear the genius who wrought this work?'

"I answered, 'Judaea,' a country, by the way, of which he seemed to know
little, except that some fanatics dwelt there, who refused to worship
him. He said that he would make that artist ruler of Judaea. I replied
that the artist was a woman, whereon he answered that he cared
nothing--she should still rule Judaea, or if this could not be managed he
would send and bring her to Rome to make a statue of him to be set up in
the Temple at Jerusalem for the Jews to worship.

"Now I saw that I had been foolish, and knowing well what would have
been your fate, my Miriam, had he once set eyes on you, I sighed and
answered, that alas! it was impossible, since you were dead, as I proved
to him by a long story with which I will not trouble you. Moreover, now
that he was sure that you were dead, I showed him the little statuette
of yourself looking into water, which you gave me. Whereon he burst
into tears, at the thought that such an one had departed from the earth,
while it was still cursed with so many who are wicked, old and ugly.

"Still he did not go, but remained admiring the bust, till at length one
of his favourites who accompanied him, whispered in my ear that I must
present it to the Emperor. I refused, whereon he whispered back that if
I did not, assuredly before long it would be taken, and with it all my
other goods, and, perhaps, my life. So, since I must, I changed my mind
and prayed him to accept it; whereon he embraced, first the marble and
then me, and caused it to be borne away then and there, leaving me mad
with rage.

"Now I tell you all this silly story for a reason, since it has hindered
and still hinders me from leaving Rome. Thus: two days later I received
an Imperial decree, in which it was stated that the incomparable work of
art brought from Judaea by Marcus, the son of Emilius, had been set up
in a certain temple, where those who would please their Emperor were
desire