when it comes to a choice between shame and death, it is permitted to choose only death. But canst thou say that death awaits thee and not shame too? Hast thou heard of the daughter of Sejanus, a young maiden, who at command of Tiberius had to pass through shame before her death, so as to respect a law which prohibits the punishment of virgins with death? Lygia, Lygia, do not irritate Cæsar. If the decisive moment comes when thou must choose between disgrace and death, thou wilt act as thy faith commands; but seek not destruction thyself, and do not irritate for a trivial cause an earthly and at the same time a cruel divinity.”
Acte spoke with great compassion, and even with enthusiasm; and being a little short-sighted, she pushed her sweet face up to Lygia’s, as if wishing to be certain of the effect of her words.
But Lygia, throwing her arms around Acte’s neck with the trustfulness of a child, said,—
“Thou art kind, Acte.”
Acte, pleased by the praise and confidence, pressed her to her heart; and then disengaging herself from the arms of the maiden, answered,—
“My happiness has passed and my joy has gone, but I am not wicked.”
Then she began to walk with quick steps through the room and to speak to herself, as if in despair.
“No! And he was not wicked. He thought himself good at that time, and he wished to be good. I know that best. All his change came later, when he ceased to love. Others made him what he is—yes, others—and Poppæa.”
Here her eyelids filled with tears. Lygia followed her for some time with her blue eyes, and asked at last,—
“Art thou sorry for him, Acte?”
“I am sorry for him!” answered the Grecian, with a low voice.
And again she began to walk, her hands clinched as if in pain, and her face without hope.
“Dost thou love him yet, Acte?” asked Lygia, timidly.
“I love him.”
And after a while she added,—
“No one loves him but me.”
Silence followed, during which Acte strove to recover her calmness, disturbed by memories; and when at length her face resumed its usual look of calm sorrow, she said,—
