“I owe it to you as well as to myself,” he continued, “to remove every obstacle from the path.  Were I to spare Vindex, they would never again believe in my strength of purpose.  He shall die, and his nephew with him!  To raise a structure without first securing a solid foundation would be an act of rashness and folly.  Besides, I undertake nothing without consulting the omens.  The horoscope which the priest of this temple has drawn up for you only confirms me in my purpose.  The examination of the sacrifices this morning was favorable.  It now only remains to be seen what the stars say to my resolve.  I had not yet taken it when I last questioned the fortune-tellers of the sky.  This night we shall learn what future the planets promise to our union.  From the signs on yonder tablet it is scarcely possible that their answer should be otherwise than favorable.  But even should they warn me of misfortune at your side, I could not let you go now.  It is too late for that.  I should merely take advantage of the warning, and continue with redoubled severity to sweep away every obstacle that threatens our union.  And one thing more—­”

But he did not finish, for Epagathos here reminded him of the deputation of Alexandrian citizens who had come to speak about the games in the Circus.  They had been waiting several hours, and had still many arrangements to make.

“Did they send you to me?” inquired Caracalla, with irritation, and the freedman answering in the affirmative, he cried:  “The princes who wait in my antechamber do not stir until their turn comes.  These tradesmen’s senses are confused by the dazzle of their gold!  Tell them they shall be called when we find time to attend to them.”

“The head of the night-watch too is waiting,” said the freedman; and to the emperor’s question whether he had seen him, and if he had anything of consequence to report, the other replied that the man was much disquieted, but seemed to be exercising proper severity.  He ventured to remind his master of the saying that the Alexandrians must have ’Panem et circenses’; they did not trouble themselves much about anything else.  In these days, when there had been neither games, nor pageants, nor distribution of corn, the Romans and Caesar had been their sole subjects of conversation.  However, there was to be something quite unusually grand in the Circus to-night.  That would distract the attention of the impudent slanderers.  The night-watchman greatly desired to speak to the emperor himself, to prepare him for the fact that excitement ran higher in the Circus here than even in Rome.  In spite of every precaution, he would not be able to keep the rabble in the upper rows quiet.

“Nor need they be,” broke in the emperor; “the louder they shout the better; and I fancy they will see things which will be worth shouting for.  I have no time to see the man.  Let him thoroughly realize that he is answerable for any real breach of order.”