oping for the best, he thought that, as the severe judgment of the
envious had often done him (Alexander) good, so the sharp satire of
the Alexandrians would lead Caracalla to introspection and greater
moderation; he only resolved to tell the sufferer nothing further that
was merely insulting.

When he bade him farewell, Caracalla glanced up at him with such a look
of pain that the artist longed to give him his hand, and speak to
him with real affection. The tormenting headache which followed each
convulsion had again come on, and Caesar submitted without resistance to
what the physician prescribed.

Alexander asked old Adventus at the door if he did not think that the
terrible attack had been brought on by annoyance at the Alexandrians'
satire, and if it would not be advisable in the future not to allow
such things to reach the emperor's ear; but the man, looking at him
in surprise with his half-blind eyes, replied with a brutal want of
sympathy that disgusted the youth: "Drinking brought on the attack. What
makes him ill are stronger things than words. If you yourself, young
man, do not suffer for Alexandrian wit, it will certainly not hurt
Caesar!"

Alexander turned his back indignantly on the chamberlain, and he became
so absorbed in wondering how it was possible that the emperor, who was
cultivated and appreciated what was beautiful, could have dragged out of
the dust and kept near him two such miserable 'creatures as Theocritus
and this old man, that Philostratus, who met him in the next room, had
almost to shout at him.

Philostratus informed him that Melissa was staying with the chief
priest's wife; but just as he was about to inquire curiously what had
passed between the audacious painter and Caesar--for even Philostratus
was a courtier--he was called away to Caracalla.

CHAPTER XIX.

In one of the few rooms of his vast palace which the chief priest had
reserved for the accommodation of the members of his own household, the
youth was received by Melissa, Timotheus's wife Euryale, and the lady
Berenike.

This lady was pleased to see the artist again to whom she was indebted
for the portrait of her daughter. She had it now in her possession once
more, for Philostratus had had it taken back to her house while the
emperor was at his meal.

She rested on a sofa, quite worn out. She had passed through hours of
torment; for her concern about Melissa, who had become very dear to
her, had given her much