I will not
rob them."
"Virtuous man! No wonder that the legions love him who cannot withdraw
one lot from a sale of thousands, even to please an only brother,"
soliloquised Domitian.
"If you wish for the maid," went on Titus, taking no heed of the insult,
"the markets are open--buy her. It is my last word."
Suddenly Domitian grew angry, the false modesty left his face, his
tall form straightened itself, and he stared round with his blear,
evil-looking eyes.
"I appeal," he shouted, "I appeal from Caesar the Small to Caesar the
Great, from the murderer of a brave barbarian tribe to the conqueror
of the world. O Caesar, Titus here declared that all he has is mine. Yet
when I ask him for the gift of one captive girl he refuses me. Command,
I pray you, that he should keep his word."
Now the officers and the secretaries looked up, for of a sudden this
small matter had become very important. For long the quarrel between
Titus and his jealous brother had smouldered, now over the petty
question of a captive it had broken into flame.
The face of Titus grew hard and stern as that of some statue of the
offended Jove.
"Command, I pray you, father," he said, "that my brother should cease
to offer insult to me.
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