"Son of Herod, forgive me.

She is your slave, and I--I am no longer master of myself.

I doubt not some strange god is working in me, for I seem to be weak-hearted and cannot bear to see you kick her." The declaration was greeted with loud laughter.

Antipater stood muttering as he shook the skirt of his toga.
"'Tis odd, my goodfellows," said Vergilius, "but the other day I saw a man scourging his lady's-maid.

Mother of the gods! I felt as if the blows were falling on my own back, and out went my hand upon his arm and I begged him--I begged him to spare the girl." All laughed again.
"You should have a doll and long hair," said Antipater, in a tone of contempt.
The proud son of Varro stood waiting as the others laughed, his brows and chin lifting a bit with anger.