And now the voice of Lucius Ahenobarbus sounded again: "One thousand denarii if you fling him into the sea!" and she could do nothing--nothing! She tore down the purple tapestries around her bed, and dashed from its tripod a costly bowl of opal Alexandrian glass--all in the mere rage of impotence.

And still they were fighting.

What was that ornament hanging on the wall, half hid behind the torn tapestry?
A scabbard--a sword, some relic of ancient wars! And all the combatants were unarmed! The antique weapon was held by stout thongs to the wall; she plucked it from its fastenings with the strength of a Titaness.

The rusty blade resisted an instant; she dragged it forth.

Then out on to the terrace.