He stopped short, surprised at himself; then laughed as he shook his head and exclaimed, “Behold, the tragedy hero in the purple with one foot in an idyl!” and wished the assembled company pleasant slumbers for the short remains of the night.

He gave his hand to a few favored ones; but, as he clasped that of the proconsul Julius Paulinus, who, with unheard-of audacity, had put on mourning garments for his brother-in-law Vindex, beheaded that day, Caesar’s countenance grew dark, and, turning his back upon them all, he walked rapidly away.  Scarcely had he disappeared when the mourning proconsul exclaimed in his dry manner, as if speaking to himself: 

“The idyl is to begin.  Would it might be the satyr-play that closes the bloodiest of tragedies!”

“Caesar has not been himself to-day,” said the favorite Theocritus; and the senator Cassius Dio whispered to Paulinus, “And therefore he was more bearable to look at.”

Old Adventus gazed in astonishment as Arjuna, the emperor’s Indian body-slave, disrobed him; for, though Caracalla had entered the apartment with a dark and threatening brow, while his sandals were being unfastened, he laughed to himself, and cried to his old servant with beaming eyes, “To-morrow!” and the chamberlain called down a blessing on the morrow, and on her who was destined to fill the coming years with sunshine for mighty Caesar.

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Caracalla, generally an early riser, slept this time longer than on other days.  He had retired very late to rest, and the chamberlain therefore put off waking him, especially as he had been troubled by evil dreams, in spite of his happy frame of mind when he sought his couch.  When at last he rose he first inquired about the weather, and expressed his satisfaction when he heard that the sun had risen with burning rays, but was now veiled in threatening clouds.

His first visit led him to the court of sacrifice.  The offerings had fallen out most favorably, and he rejoiced at the fresh and healthy appearance of the bullocks’ hearts and livers which the augurs showed him.  In the stomach of one of the oxen they had found a flint arrow-head, and, on showing it to Caracalla, he laughed, and observed to the high-priest Timotheus:  “A shaft from Eros’s quiver!  A hint from the god to offer him a sacrifice on this happy day.”

After his bath he caused himself to be arrayed with peculiar care, and then gave orders for the admittance, first, of the prefect of the praetorians, and then of Melissa, for whom a mass of gorgeous flowers stood ready.

But Macrinus was not to be found, although Caesar had commanded him yesterday to give in his report before doing anything else.  He had twice come to the antechamber, but had gone away again shortly before, and had not yet returned.

Determined to let nothing damp his spirits, Caesar merely shrugged his shoulders, and gave orders to admit the maiden, and—­should they have accompanied her—­her father and brother.  But neither Melissa nor the men had appeared as yet, though Caracalla distinctly remembered having commanded all three to visit him after the bath, which he had taken several hours later than usual.