Whatever he did must be done on the instant, and happily Verus had the gift of thinking and acting promptly.  In a few decisive words he begged his companion, Lucius Albinus, to hurry back to his old soldiers and bring them to the rescue; then he desired his slaves to force a way for him with their powerful arms up to the door of the house.  This feat was accomplished in no time, but how great was his astonishment when he found the Emperor standing there.

Hadrian stood in the midst of the crowd, and at the instant when Verus appeared on the scene had wrenched the torch out of the hand of the infuriated tailor.  At the same time, in a thundering voice, he commanded the Alexandrians—­who were not accustomed to the imperial tone—­to desist from their mad project.  Whistling, grunting, and words of scorn overpowered the mandate of the sovereign, and when Verus and his slaves had reached the spot where he stood, a few drunken Egyptians had gone up to him and were about to lay hands on the unwelcome counsellor.  The praetor stood in their way.  He first whispered to Hadrian that Jupiter ought to be ruling the world, and might well leave it to smaller folks to rescue a houseful of Jews; and that in a few seconds the soldiers would arrive.  Then he shouted to him in a loud voice: 

“Away from this Sophist!  Your place is in the Museum, or in the temple of Serapis with your books, and not among the misguided and ignorant.  Am I right Macedonian citizens, or am I wrong?” A murmur of assent was heard which became a roar of laughter when Verus, after Hadrian had got away, went on: 

“He has a beard like Caesar, and so he behaves as if he wore the purple!  You did well to let him escape, his wife and children are waiting for him over their porridge.”

Verus had often been implicated in wild adventure among the populace and knew how to deal with them; if he now could only detain them till the advent of the soldiers he might consider the game as won.  Hadrian could be a hero when it suited him; but here where no laurels were to be won, he left to Verus the task of quieting the crowd.

As soon as he was fairly gone Verus desired his slaves to lift him on their shoulders; his handsome good-natured face looked down upon the crowd from high above them.  He was immediately recognized, and many voices called out: 

“The crazy Roman! the praetor! the sham Eros!”

“I am he, Macedonian citizens, yes, I am he,” answered Verus in a clear voice.  “And I will tell you a story.”

“Listen, Listen.”

“No let us get into the Jew’s house.”

“Presently—­listen a minute to what the sham Eros says.”

“I will knock your teeth down your throat boy, if you don’t hold your tongue.”

All the crowd were shouting in wild confusion.

Curiosity, on the one hand, to hear the noble gentleman’s speech, and the somewhat superficial fury of the mob contended together for a few minutes; at last curiosity seemed to be gaining the day, the tumult subsided, and the praetor began: