Cyril set his foot upon the shining blade.
"What is this madness?" he asked. "If you did not know of Miriam's
death, why do you desire to kill yourself?"
"Because I have lost more than Miriam. Man, they have robbed me of my
honour. By the decree of Titus, I, Marcus, am branded as a coward. Yes,
Titus, at whose side I have fought a score of battles--Titus, from whom
I have warded many a blow--has banished me from Rome."
"Tell me of this thing," said Cyril.
So Marcus told him all. Cyril listened in silence, then said sternly:
"Is it for this that you would kill yourself? Is your honour lessened by
a decree based upon false evidence, and given for reasons of policy? Do
you cease to be honourable because others are dishonourable, and would
you--a soldier--fly from the battle? Now, indeed, Marcus, you show
yourself a coward."
"How can I live on who am so shamed?" he asked passionately. "My friends
knew that I could not live, and that is why they wrapped a sword in
yonder cloak and sent it me. Also Miriam, you say, is dead."
"Satan sent it to you, Marcus, desiring to fashion of your foolish
pride a ladder down which you might climb to hell. Cast aside this base
temptation which wears the mask of false honour; face your trouble like
a man, and conquer it by innocence--and faith.
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