"Thy gracious presence--" Caracalla interrupted him with a long-drawn "Indeed!" Then, leaning forward, he gave him a keen, oblique look.

"No one but the gods has nothing to wish for; so it must be that you are afraid to ask.

What can that avail, unless to teach me that you look for nothing but evil from me; that you are suspicious of me?
And if that is so, you fear me; and if you fear, you hate me.

The insults I have received in this house sufficiently prove the fact.

And if you hate me," and he sprang up and shook his fist, "I must protect myself!" "Great Caesar," the exegetes began, in humble deprecation, but Caracalla went on, wrathfully: "I know when I have to protect myself, and from whom.