y mumble their sins and then frighten
him away to the wilderness. And when he is departed, lo, they are as
innocent as babes new-born. Jove, what fools!"

"Here now are thy spirits coming," Claudia laughed. "Drink thou and
see if thou gettest not out of the tomb."

Servants with viands and wines entered and placed them on tables near
the couches. Pilate poured for the guests and then took his own cup.

"Pilate takes a second cup," said Claudia. "He is moving out of the
tomb."

"Antipas hath not found his Tiberias a tomb yet," Pilate remarked
between cups.

"What hath he done?" a guest asked.

"To a maiden who pleased him with gay dancing gave he the head of a Jew
prophet in a silver platter. Good use for such head."

"In seven veils did she dance," Claudia added.

"On my soul I would have seen the show."

"My lord Pilate emerges from the tomb," and Claudia laughed as he
poured another cup.

"And for a purpose," Pilate answered her. "As Antipas hath taken the
pleasures of Rome to Tiberias, so will Pilate bring Rome to Jerusalem
this night for the pleasure of his guests. Where, Claudia, my love, is
thy maiden whose limbs are like the milky marble Greece boasts and
whose feet fly like the wings of a chased butterfly? Summon thou the
slave. Yet stay--not seven veils shall hide her marble loveliness.
Here," and snatching a wreath of flowers from a pedestal he flung them
to Claudia, "bid her robe her beauteous nakedness in this. Here's to
the dancer whose virgin charms unhidden by such dense and senseless
draperies as veils, shall set our blood racing as blood doth race at
Rome. Bid the slave come!"

"My maiden doth not choose to come clad only in a wreath," and Claudia
tossed the flowers aside.

"Slaves have no choice when masters do the bidding."

"Thy words sound large, yet hath Claudia a choice for her maiden.
Confusion will take the buoyancy from her supple limbs, and so drawn
will her arms be to her face to hide its shame, that the sensuous swing
thou dost desire will be stiff as the scabbard on thy wall. Lest she
be veiled my maiden can not dance to do Rome pleasure."

"A veil! A veil!" shouted Pilate, laughing.

"Give the maiden a veil," the guests added.

"A veil! One veil--_one_ but not _two_, Claudia. One veil!" and again
Pilate laughed loudly.

"A veil. _One_ veil," Claudia repeated, bowing as she left the room.

When she had gone Pilate summoned servants. "Set the palms to