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.

Command also that he should cease to question my will and my authority in matters great or small that are within my rule.
Since you are appealed to as Caesar, as Caesar judge, not of this thing only but of all, for there is much between him and me that needs to be made plain." Vespasian looked round him uneasily, but seeing no escape and that beneath the quarrel lay issues which were deep and wide, he spoke out in his brave, simple-minded fashion.
"Sons," he said, "seeing that there are but two of you who together, or one after the other, must inherit the world, it is an evil-omened thing that you should quarrel thus, since on the chances of your enmity may hang your own fates and the fates of peoples.

Be reconciled, I pray you.

Is there not enough for both?
As for the matter in hand--this is my judgment.

With all the spoils of Judaea, this fair maid is the property of Titus.