And yet it was a comfort to him to think that he had broken his pipe.  It would have disgraced him to whistle it; and, moreover, the tone would have reached the ear of the noble lady who had accompanied Melissa, and whom he himself had, only yesterday, revered as a second mother.

Loud music now struck up, he heard shouts and cheers, and just above him—­for it could only proceed from the uppermost tiers—­there was an extraordinary tumult.  Still he paid no heed, and as he thought of that matron the question suddenly arose in his mind, whether she would have consented to be seen with Melissa if she thought that the girl was indeed capable of ruthless falsehood or any other unworthy act.  He, who never missed a show in the arena, had never seen the lady Euryale here.  She could hardly have come to-day for her own pleasure; she had come, then, for Melissa’s sake; and yet she knew that the girl was betrothed to him.  Unless Caesar had commanded the matron’s presence, Melissa must still be worthy of the esteem and affection of this best of women; and at this reflection Hope once more raised her head in his tortured soul.

He now suddenly wished that brighter light might dispel the gloom which just now he had found so restful; for the lady Euryale’s demeanor would show him whether Melissa were still a virtuous maiden.  If the matron were as friendly with her as ever, her heart was perhaps still his; it was not the splendor of the purple that had led her astray, but the coercion of the tyrant.

His silent reflections were here interrupted by the loud sounding of trumpets, battle-cries, and, immediately after, the fall of some heavy body, followed by repeated acclamations, noisy outcries, and the applause of those about him.  Not till then had he been aware that the performances had begun.  Below him, indeed, on the arena from which he had not once raised his eyes, nothing was to be seen on the yellow sand but the scented fountain and a shapeless body, by which a second and a third were soon lying; but overhead something was astir, and, from the right-hand side, bright rays flashed across the wide space.  Above the vast circle of seats, arranged on seven tiers, suns and huge, strangely shaped stars were seen, which shed a subdued, many-tinted radiance; and what the youth saw over his head was not the vault of heaven, which to-night bent over his native city darkened by clouds, but a velarium of immense size on which the nocturnal firmament was depicted.  This covered in the whole of the open space.  Every constellation which rose over Alexandria was plainly recognizable.  Jupiter and Mars, Caesar’s favorites, outdid the other planets in size and brightness; and in the center of this picture of the sky, which slowly revolved round it, stars were set to form the letters of Caracalla’s names, Bassianus and Antoninus.  But their light, too, was dim, and veiled as it were with clouds.  Soft music was heard from these artificial heavens, and in the stratum of air immediately beneath, the blare of war-trumpets and battle-cries were heard.  Thus all eyes were directed upward, and Diodoros’s with the rest.