"How, then, shall I acknowledge my error?" the slave asked.

"Bow your head before the goddess, and entreat her forgiveness for the
violence you have done her. Then perhaps you may gain my pardon as
well."

"Put me, then, before her," said the Christian.

Emilius Flaccus looked triumphantly at Domitian. By kindness and tact
he was effecting that which the Emperor had failed to do by violence.
Datus walked in front of the mutilated Venus. Then with a sudden spring
he tore the baton out of the hand of one of his guardians, leaped upon
the pedestal, and showered his blows upon the lovely marble woman.
With a crack and a dull thud her right arm dropped to the ground.
Another fierce blow and the left had followed. Flaccus danced and
screamed with horror, while his servants dragged the raving iconoclast
from his impassive victim. Domitian's brutal laughter echoed through
the hall.

"Well, friend, what think you now?" he cried. "Are you wiser than your
Emperor? Can you indeed tame your Christian with kindness?"

Emilius Flaccus wiped the sweat from his brow. "He is yours, great
Caesar. Do with him as you will."

"Let him be at the gladiators' entrance of the circus an hour before the
games begin," said the Emperor. "Now, Emilius, the night has been a
merry one. My Ligurian galley waits by the river quay. Come, cool your
head with a spin to Ostia ere the business of State calls you to the