Still, Aurelius had, by various wanton jokes, incurred the emperor’s wrath before now, and he was accustomed to disarm it by some insinuating confession, so he answered him with a roguish smile, while raising his eyes to him humbly: 

“Forgive me, great Caesar!  Our poor strength, as you well know, is easily defeated in conflicts against overpowering beauty.  Dainties are sweet, not only for children.  Long ago Mars was drawn to Venus; and if I—­”

He had spoken these words in Latin, which Melissa did not understand; but the color left the emperor’s face, and, pale with excitement, he stammered out laboriously: 

“You have—­you have dared—­”

“For this rose,” began the youth again, “I begged a hasty kiss from the beauty, which certainly blooms for all, and she—­” He raised his hands and eyes imploringly to the despot; but Caracalla had already snatched Macrinus’s sword from its sheath, and before Aurelius could defend himself he was struck first on the head with the flat of the blade, and then received a series of sharp cuts on his brow and face.

Streaming with blood from the gaping wounds which the victim, trembling with fear and rage, covered with his hands, he surrendered himself to the care of his startled brother, while Caesar overwhelmed them both with a flood of furious reproaches.

When Nemesianus began to bind up his wounded brother’s head with a handkerchief handed to him by Melissa, and Caracalla saw the gaping wounds he had inflicted, he became quieter, and said: 

“I think those lips will not try to steal kisses again for some time from honorable maidens.  You and Nemesianus have forfeited your lives; how ever, the beseeching look of those all-powerful eyes has saved you—­you are spared.  Take your brother away, Nemesianus.  You are not to leave your quarters until further orders.”

With this he turned his back on the twins, but on the threshold he again addressed them and said: 

“You were mistaken about this maiden.  She is not less pure and noble than your own sister.”

The merchants were dismissed from the tablinum more hastily than was due to the importance of their business, in which, until this interruption, the sovereign had shown a sympathetic interest and intelligence which surprised them; and they left Caesar’s presence disappointed, but with the promise that they should be received again in the evening.

As soon as they had retired, Caracalla threw himself again on the couch.

The bath had done him good.  Still somewhat exhausted, though his head was clear, he would not be hindered from receiving the deputation for which he had important matters to decide; but this fresh attack of rage revenged itself by a painful headache.  Pale, and with slightly quivering limbs, he dismissed the prefect and his other friends, and desired Epagathos to call Melissa.

He needed rest, and again the girl’s little hand, which had yesterday done him good, proved its healing power.  The throbbing in his head yielded to her gentle touch, and by degrees exhaustion gave way to the comfortable languor of convalesence.