Well, soon you shall be a
citizen of Hades, I promise you. Now, bring the heavy rods and beat him
till he dies."
The dreadful order was obeyed, and for a while nothing was heard save
the sound of heavy blows and the smothered moans of the miserable
Saturius.
"Wretches," yelled the Imperial brute, "you are playing, you do not hit
hard enough. I will teach you how to hit," and snatching a rod from one
of the slaves he rushed at his prostrate chamberlain, the others drawing
back to allow their master to show his skill in flogging.
Saturius saw Domitian come, and knew that unless he could change his
purpose in another minute the life would be battered out of him. He
struggled to his knees.
"Prince," he cried, "hearken ere you strike. You can kill me if you will
who are justly angered, and to die at your hands is an honour that I do
not merit. Yet, dread lord, remember that if you slay me then you will
never find that Pearl-Maiden whom you desire."
Domitian paused, for even in his fury he was cunning. "Doubtless," he
thought, "the knave knows where the girl is. Perhaps even he has hidden
her away for himself."
"Ah!" he said aloud, quoting the vulgar proverb, "'the rod is the mother
of reason.
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