It was the copy of a letter addressed to his "dutiful and affectionate son Antipater." It recited that, whereas he (Herod) was now become ill and weary under his many cares, and needed the companionship of them he loved, Antipater should ask, in the name of his father, for a goodly escort of cavalry and proceed at once to Jerusalem, there, shortly, to receive his inheritance.
"Foul son of Doris!" the king growled, hoarsely, as the young Roman turned.

Then his voice broke into a shrill, piping laugh.

"Ha, ha! He is coming--even now he is coming to take the crown of his loving father!" Then he loaned forward with a savage leer, as if he saw the object of his wrath.

His lips were parted, his mouth open, his breath came hissing from his throat.
"Foul son of Doris!" he repeated, beating the floor with his feet.
"Your lies have drowned me in the blood of those I love.

Swamp plant! creeping asp! Soon shall I put my foot upon you!" Turning to Vergilius, he continued, presently: "Be ready, my tribune, to go down to the sea with a cohort.