But before the murmur of approbation at this unexpected docility wore away, Lentulus burst forth into a fiery invective.  All knew why the Senate had been convened, nor would he allow a few smooth promises to bring the state into danger.  The law provided that a proconsul should leave his province at a certain time; and if Caesar thought that a special law exempted him from this requirement, it were well he were disabused of the notion.  The Senate had been convened because the presiding consul felt that the continuance of Caesar in his governorship was a menace to the safety of the Republic.  Let the Conscript Fathers express themselves boldly, and he, Lentulus, would not desert them; let them waver and try to court the favour of Caesar as in former times, and the consul would have to look to his own safety—­and he could make his own terms with Caesar.

Lentulus had started out with studied moderation.  His harangue ended with a stinging menace.  A low mutter, difficult to interpret, ran through the Senate.  Again Antonius leaped to his feet.

“Conscript Fathers, will you not consider the mild offers of Caesar?  Do not reject them without debate.”

“I ask the opinion of the Senate on my own proposition,” broke in Lentulus.  “Metellus Scipio, declare what is your judgment.”

“I protest at this unseemly haste,” cried Antonius; “let us consider the letter first!”

“And I protest against this boisterous and unlawful interruption,” retorted the consul, fiercely.  “Rise, Metellus Scipio!”

Antonius flushed with rage, but sank into his seat.  Drusus leaned over his friend’s shoulder and whispered “Veto.”  Antonius shook his head.

“They must speak.  We should be foolish to shoot away our best arrow before the battle had really begun.”

Scipio arose.  He was not the “chief senator,"[141] usually entitled to speak first; but everybody knew that his words were the mere expressions of his son-in-law, the mighty Pompeius.  His oratory and physical presence were wretched, but all the Senate hung upon his words.

  [141] Princeps senatus.

“Pompeius did not intend to abandon the Republic, if the Senate would support him; but let them act with energy, for otherwise in the future they might need his aid never so much, and yet implore it in vain.”

“You want to destroy the Republic!” cried Quintus Cassius, half leaping from his seat.

“We want to destroy you!” retorted Domitius, savagely.

But all men were not so blinded by fury, hate, and greed of power and revenge.  To the dismay of his party Caius Marcellus, the second consul, counselled a certain kind of moderation.  There was no love lost by the noble “Optimates” upon Pompeius, and Marcellus hinted this plainly when he said that all Italy must be put under arms, and with such an army at the disposal of the Senate, it could act as it saw fit,—­to get rid of a troublesome