And Caracalla replied with a dark frown, loudly and briefly:
“And if your rage is too much for you?” wailed Melissa, raising her hands in entreaty; but the despot replied, sternly:
“There is no passion which can betray Caesar into perjury.”
At this moment Philostratus came in again, with Epagathos, who announced the praetorian prefect. Melissa, encouraged by the presence of her kind protector, went on:
“But, great Caesar, you will release my father and my other brother?”
“Perhaps,” replied Caracalla. “First we will see how this one carries out his task.”
“You will be satisfied, my lord,” said the young man, looking quite happy again, for he was delighted at the prospect of saying audacious things to the face of the tyrant whom all were bent on flattering, and holding up the mirror to him without, as he firmly believed, bringing any danger on himself or others.
He bowed to go. Melissa did the same, saying, as airily as though she were free to come and go here:
“Accept my thanks, great Caesar. Oh, how fervently will I pray for you all my life, if only you show mercy to my father and brothers!”
“That means that you are leaving me?” asked Caracalla.
“How can it be otherwise?” said Melissa, timidly. “I am but a girl, and the men whom you expect--”
“But when they are gone?” Caesar insisted.
“Even then you can not want me,” she murmured.
“You mean,” said Caracalla, bitterly, “that you are afraid to come back. You mean that you would rather keep out of the way of the man you prayed for, so long as he is well. And if the pain which first aroused your sympathy attacks him again, even then will you leave the irascible sovereign to himself or the care of the gods?”
“Not so, not so,” said Melissa, humbly, looking into his eyes with an expression that pierced him to the heart, so that he added, with gentle entreaty:
“Then show that you are she whom I believe you to be. I do not compel you. Go whither you will, stay away even if I send for you; but”--and here his brow clouded again--“why should I try to be merciful to her from whom I looked for sympathy and kindliness, when she flees from me like the rest?”
“O my lord!” Melissa sighed distressfully. “Go!” Caesar went on. “I do not need you.”
“No, no,” the girl cried, in great trouble. “Call me, and I will come. Only shelter me from the others, and from their looks of scorn; only--O immortal gods!--If you need me, I will serve you, and willingly, with all my heart. But if you really care for me, if you desire my presence, why let me suffer the worst?” Here a sudden flood of tears choked her utterance. A smile of triumph passed over Caesar’s features, and drawing Melissa’s hands away from her tearful face, he said, kindly: