"If you think that, mistress, then let us die at once rather than be
rent limb from limb to give pleasure to a stinking mob. See, I have
poison hidden here in my hair. Let us drink of it and be done: it is
swift and painless."

"Nay, Nou, it would not be right. I may lift no hand against my own
life, or if perchance I may, I have to think of another life."

"If you die, the unborn child must die also. To-night or to-morrow, what
does it matter?"

"Sufficient to the day is the evil thereof. Who knows? To-morrow Agrippa
may be dead, not us, and then the child might live. It is in the hand of
God. Let God decide."

"Lady," answered Nehushta, setting her teeth, "for your sake I have
become a Christian, yes, and I believe. But I tell you this--while I
live no lion's fangs shall tear that dear flesh of yours. First if need
be, I will stab you there in the arena, or if they take my knife from
me, then I will choke you, or dash out your brains against the posts."

"It may be a sin, Nou; take no such risk upon your soul."

"My soul! What do I care about my soul? You are my soul. Your mother was
kind to me, the poor slave-girl, and when you were an infant, I rocked
you upon my breast. I spread your bride-bed, and if need be, to save you
from worse things, I will lay you dead before me and myself dead across
your body. Then let God or Satan--I care not which--deal with my soul.
At least, I shall have done my best and died faithful."