"for Cæsar loveth him. That is the reason and the only reason why the fellow prospereth in this way."

Then came one Ridiculus, a wag, who told of how Defectus had lately lost again large moneys in a certain enterprise. "Why sentest thou, O Defectus," inquired he, "a shipload of warm apparel unto Egypt? Knewest thou not that in Egypt—”

But Defectus had slipped away, being high tender about this enterprise.

Then came others up, taking Defectus' place, and calumniated the Jew. "He is negligent of his person," cried Sordes; "too dressy," declared Ornatus. "He hath taken many moneys and all for nothing," whined Astutius and Fraudator in the same breath. "He hath no modesty," said Impudens. "Nor self-confidence," whispered Timidus, who now had returned in other apparel. "Too free with women," said Lascivus. "He is small minded," complained Parvus. "He used to beg," cried Mendicans. And so on.

"Beg," said then Defectus, who had got his countenance once more. "I heard of the fellow when he lived in the Mines of the Wretched. Was he not merely a thief? Believest thou me not, look ye, any man, upon his brow, and behold where Cæsar hath aforetime branded him."

Then came up one whose face was bandaged all about. And he said, "But that was an unjust branding." And he would have said more, but knew not how to utter the thing he would say. He therefore stepped about uneasily, and fidgetted into silence.

And no one in any wise answered him, for that he had no faith in himself. Moreover, he had spoken against Cæsar.

Then spake again Defectus, saying: "What the gods intend to do, that will they accomplish, spite of all the strength and all the weakness, all the folly and all the wisdom of their merely human instruments."

"Thou speakest, O Defectus," said the man called Vulgus, “like a philosopher with a beard a mile long.'

"And what the gods intend shall not be done, that will in no wise be accomplished-spite of all the strength and all the weakness, all the folly and all the wisdom of their merely human agents. That is the reason why some men who have not so much brains as a sparrow, prosper exceedingly, and build fine houses, and also why some others who are gifted with massive intellects- Will the gates not open?— but look! The games increase each day, and the carts of corpses throng the streets- See! there are some of the bodies falling off."

"Happier even they," said the man with the bandage round his face, but now more boldly, for that he seemed to be in some sort of excitement, "than those who come in the opposite direction. Look! Look ye!"

The crowd looked promptly (being itself in excitement) and beheld a long, pale file of victims bearing crosses. Headed were all for the Esquiline gate.

And Defectus cried aloud and cursed (and a many others with him) for that he had much business with the Jew, the which did truly prevent his witnessing the execution.

Cried a little man, in a feeble voice: "It thundereth terribly."

"No," corrected a big, pompous fellow: "that was the sound of lions newly arrived at the amphitheatre. I watched them all night. If there is anything I fear at all, it's lions; so I-"

"Not so, not so," brake in Mobilis. "But the key in the lock of Simon's great house-I thought I heard the thing grating, and it did nearly turn."

"Thou callest," said Defectus, "this the house of Simon of Cyrene, and speakest as if that man had truly builded it. Yet built he it not. For I mind me of a certain time when the palace (only more brilliant it was then) appertained to Lampadephorus, a most illustrious Greek."

"Who became mightily fallen."

"Or ere he died, a very long time or ere he died. And he "

But there came up unto Defectus and the friends with whom he spake, the man whose face was muffled. He said, "I pray you, good sirs, tell me who liveth here."

Defectus looked at the man a little before he answered.

"Know

est thou not? Thou didst speak for the man a while ago." "Not for a certainty. I have been afeard- I have come a great-"

"He is Simon of Cyrene, then."

"A Jew?"

"I believe that."

"Is he rich!"

At this, Defectus and Ridiculus and one called Stupidus looked at one another with a smile. "Whence hast thou come?"

"Greece." Then, after a time, and in a quivering voice: "Is the man-hospitable unto strangers?"

"Hast thou never indeed heard about Simon of Cyrene, mighty man and intellectual, and patron of all the arts?" asked Defectus. "That man is high hospitable-at his own high price.”

The stranger, moving a step or two, made answer: "I have heard a little of this Simon of Cyrene, yet not much. He is a priest We all sleep in the tents of Shem- But what, O strangers, of my former questions? Is Simon of Cyrene very rich? Or liveth he only grandly? The two are not the same, ye wot. Is he safe or in danger? Doth he need help, as do most rich men? Hath he many servants, and hath he a capable steward over them, or" (he began to laugh as it were a right good joke) "needeth he yet another?"

Defectus grinned long. "He can have as many as he needeth, for he hath bought and sold Rome," said he.

"The whole world," corrected Vulgus.

"He is a thief," went on Defectus.

"Hath already a many servants," added Mobilis.

"He hath lost a steward lately, as I hear," put in Curiosus. "I should like myself to know much more about the matter."

Then said all together, "He is never safe, and he hath no friends. Beware thou of him, and help him not in any wise-lest thou also suffer, even as thou seemest truly to have done already."

And at this very time, the man Ridiculus and that other fool which hight Stupidus, grabbing at the bandage which swathed the stranger's face all round about, tore it completely away for a joke, and thenstood staring.

Yea, they looked very much ashamed. And, turning, they went slowly to the back of the crowd.

And a many of the others, when they had looked on the bare and naked contenance of this man, turned round quickly, and gat them to a distant portion of the street-but only in time to shout: "The Lord! The Lord!"

Then came Cæsar, passing in his litter of gold. Anteambulatores went before him, pedisequii behind, and after these his many guards in steel and brass and flaming scarlet. A trumpet blew. The walls echoed. One cried, "Cæsar goeth to the games!" The people fell and grovelled on their faces, moaning: "O Cæsar! Cæsar, thou art God!" Cæsar looked at the multitude with anxious scrutiny, for he wished to know whether his influence over his people (that is, as a god) was in any wise getting less.

About this time the brazen doors of Simon's domus groaned on their hinges, and, at the end, did utter a cry, a shriek of pain intolerable. And a many of the crowd that were nearest the gates when they heard the turning, suddenly stood up, and rushed thickly into the mighty building, leaving the god of all the world, even Cæsar, with an arrow of envy rankling in his foolish heart.

CHAPTER XLII

THE HOUSE OF THE JEW AND THE HOUSE OF THE SERPENT

Now in his secret chamber, the place whereof was known to none but himself, Simon of Cyrene had faintly heard his old slave, Chronos (he that sate in the distant atrium by the side of the silver water clock, bearing in his hands a great scythe) moaning (like as it were a voice from beyond the tomb): "Conticinium, conticinium! A new day is born. Be ye, therefore, merry, and lay all fears away." Simon thereupon quickly arose, and, from a secret vantage ground, beheld that the peoples were gathering (as he had feared that they might not do) in the square before his palace. He knew that he was overglad that they had come. Apparelling himself, he partook of certain viands, and further prepared that he might go forth and hold his levy in the hall of gold.

But then a great fear knocked at his heart, and he stopped with his hand on the secret door of the room, feeling as it were all the pulses in his veins. "O Adonai! Adonai! I, thy priest, am wholly afeard, for lo I have had a sordid combat with this world."

And he asked, Had there been a purpose running through his life. Yea, by the gold that is in the Temple. And so should there continue forevermore to be? Yea, by the very shekinah. "And when I have no further need of thee, I will break thee and yet keep thee."

Simon of Cyrene, pressing upon the door, it gave. And he left his safe, prayer-filled cubiculum, and, by a narrow passage, went into another not quite so secret, way. And so, by soft degrees, came forth unto certain wider and less hidden corridors, which those of his servants whom he most nearly trusted, did also, in some manner, know about.

Now he had well-nigh reached the closed, narrow gate which would open upon his dais in the hall of audience.

Again he paused.

For there came upon him, of a sudden, the premonition of a happiness greater than he had ever known before-mingled, however, with fears (which came again) of blackest dye. "Perhaps," thought he, "such moods are common to the exalted.”

The exalted!

He was clad, this Simon of Cyrene, in a golden gear, and he knew that, as he walked, his limbs were bathed in showers of flaming splendor. The walls about him were of curious marble set with plates of shining gold and gems. Yet was his heart wax, and his limbs water.

For he knew in his soul that all of the things which he mundanely was, and all of the things which ever he might mundanely hope to be, were built and founded on the fickle will of Cæsar.

Then he went on yet a little nigher to his audience room, but with ever a more and more doubtful heart, so that, at length, he took vain counsel with himself whether he should then and there go into the chamber, or should wait till another day. In the end, he thought he would take his fortune, God being with him. Yet he continually turned over in his mind how he might do in this case and again in that, and he also felt for his swords beneath his splendid garments, and found them, and gloried in his strength, which had never yet been vanquished.

He opened the gate, and threw it from him, as he that was lord of the place might very well do.

And he entered in all his shining vesture.

And the audience was hushed.

And he went quickly and sate upon his golden seat in the middle of the dais, which was of amber. And alabaster pillars were set and ranged on the borders of the dais, to the right hand and to the left, and over the pillars clomb many a vine whose leaves were made of the dust of emeralds and whose grapes were single rubies. And the colors of the place were those of a tropical forest, but nowhere was there any graven image, or a sign of the gods or of God. And there was ever a little music far away, and waves of myrrh and cinnamon ran continually into the chamber.

Then, as the Jew had not yet spoken, the standing multitude burst into loud acclaim and wishes of prosperity at this, the earliest, levee of the Jew.

Simon said unto them, "I thank you all: be seated.'

When the audience was set in their silver seats, the master of the house would then have spoken a little speech to them, but many a peregrinus came forward toward him quickly, laden with lordly presents, as though he were a king. Great horns of ivory they bore, from Cyrenaica; bowls and baths of silver from the Laurion mines; out of Africa, peacocks and apes; from Persia frankincense and myrrh; and stuffs of silk from China, and byssus out of Egypt, and clanking, clamorous ingots from the Mines of the Wretched.

And sweet were the words that went with each of the gifts, and at the giving of each gift and the making of each speech, the crowd again arose, shouted wild acclaims and wishes for yet greater prosperity unto him that ruled this house.

Then up ran negroes, who beat their brows on the pavement before