er. His anger appeared to be subsiding
with his fears, and the wine which he drank freely at the table
seemed to conspire with the other influences of the occasion to
restore his wonted good-humor. He ordered that in reply to
Messalina's letter a messenger should go and inform her that she
should be admitted the next day to see him and to make her defense.

Narcissus and his confederates were greatly alarmed, and determined
immediately that this must not be. Narcissus had been placed, it
would seem, according to the wish of the conspirators at the outset,
in command of the guard; and he accordingly had power to prevent the
emperor's determination from being carried into effect, provided
that he should dare to take the responsibility of acting. It was a
moment of great anxiety and suspense. He soon, however, came
strongly to the conclusion that though it would be very dangerous
for him to act, yet that not to act would be certain destruction;
since if Messalina were allowed to live it would be absolutely
certain that they all must die. Accordingly, summoning all his
resolution he hurried out of the banqueting room, and gave orders to
the officers on duty there, in the emperor's name, to proceed to the
gardens of Lucullus and execute sentence of death on Messalina
without any delay.

Messalina was with her mother Lepida, in the gardens, awaiting her
answer from the emperor, when the band of soldiers came. Messalina
and her mother had never been agreed, and now for a long time had
had no intercourse with each other. The daughter's danger had,
however, reawakened the instinct of maternal love in the mother's
heart, and Lepida had come to see her child in this the hour of her
extremity. She came, however, not to console or comfort her child,
or to aid her in her efforts to save her life, but to provide her
with the means of putting an end to her own existence as the only
way now left to her, of escape from the greater disgrace of public
execution.

She accordingly offered a poniard to Messalina in the gardens, and
urged her to take it. "Death by your own hand," said she, "is now
your only refuge. You _must_ die; it is impossible that this tragedy
can have any other termination; and to wait quietly here for the
stroke of the executioner is base and ignoble. You _must die_;--and
all that now remains to you is the power to close the scene with
dignity and with becoming spirit."

Messalina manifested the greatest agitation