r
your story. If I must die, it is to die cursing your name. Go! I have
no more words for you!"

But Ahenobarbus caught the skirt of Cornelia's robe, and pleaded and
moaned. "Let them imprison him in the lowest dungeons, load him with
the heaviest fetters; place upon him the most toilsome labour--only
let him still see the light and breathe the air!"

"Uncle," said Cornelia, "I will plead for you despite your
wrath---though little may my effort avail. You are my father's
brother, and neither act of yours nor of mine can make you otherwise.
But as for you, Lucius Ahenobarbus,"--and her words came hot and
thick, as she hissed out her contempt,--"though I beg for your life,
know this, that if I despised you less I would not so do. I despise
you too much to hate; and if I ask to have you live, it is because I
know the pains of a base and ignoble life are a myriad fold more than
those of a swift and honourable death. Were I your judge--I would doom
you; doom you _to live_ and know the sting of your ignominy!"

She left them; and hatred and pity, triumph and anguish, mingled
within her. She went to the young King Ptolemaeus and besought him to
spare the prisoners; the lad professed his inability to take a step
without the initiative of Pothinus. She went to Pothinus; the eunuch
listened to her courteously, then as courteously told her that grave
reasons of state made it impossible to comply with the request--much,
as he blandly added, it would delight him personally to gratify her.
Cornelia could do no more. Pratinas she would not appeal to, though he
had great influence with Pothinus. She went back to her rooms to spend
the day with Fabia, very heavy of heart. The world, as a whole, she
beheld as a thing very evil; treachery, guile, wrath, hatred, were
everywhere. The sight of Ahenobarbus had filled her with loathsome
memories of past days. The sunlight fell in bright warm panels over
the rich rugs on the floor of her room. The sea-breeze sweeping in
from the north blew fresh and sweet; out against the azure light, into
which she could gaze, a swarm of swallows was in silhouette--black
dots crawling along across the dome of light. Out in one of the public
squares of the city great crowds of people were gathering. Cornelia
knew the reason of the concourse--the heads of two noble Romans, just
decapitated, were being exposed to the gibes and howls of the coarse
Greek and Egyptian mob. And Cornelia wished that she were hersel