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Updated: June 4, 2025
Being a Roman citizen yourself, you can only make a marriage with a citizen; now the question is whether Callista is a citizen at all. I know perfectly well the sweeping measure some years back of Caracalla, which made all freemen citizens of Rome, whatever might be their country; but that measure has never been carried out in fact.
I am too old for chaff. Eat, drink, and be merry, that’s my philosophy, that’s my religion; and I know no better. To-day is ours, to-morrow is our children’s.” After a pause, he added, bitterly, “If truth could get Callista out of prison, instead of getting her into it, I should have something to say to truth.”
"Aye! like Callista, and Phryne, and the flute-player Stephanion," interrupted the Roman, shrugging his shoulders. "How should it be different?" asked the Corinthian, looking at his friend in astonishment.
"The house contained another room as interesting as the one I have already mentioned. It went by the name of the library and its walls were heavily lined with books; but the family never sat there, nor was I ever fortunate enough to see it with its doors unclosed except on the occasion of the grand reception Mistress Callista gave in my honor.
O frightful! worse than a runaway slave,—the torture! Give in. What’s the harm? you are so young: those terrible men with the pincers and hot bars!” Callista sat up, and passed from her vision to her prison. She smiled and said, “I am ready; I am going home.” The woman looked almost frightened, and with some shade of disgust and disappointment.
Callista is always ready to testify of herself that she is an imaginative person, and sometimes adds in illustration, that if she had taken a walk and seen an old heap of stones on her way, the account she would give on returning would include many pleasing particulars of her own invention, transforming the simple heap into an interesting castellated ruin.
His sister might have thwarted him in affairs which lay nearer his heart than the moral emancipation of Agellius; and as she generally complied with his suggestions and wishes, whatever they were, he did not grudge her her liberty of action in this instance. Nor had the occurrence which had taken place any great visible effect upon Callista herself.
They thought not of me.” Here her tears gushed out violently, and she abandoned herself to a burst of emotion. “They were thinking of him. I had hoped he could lead me to what was higher; but woe, woe!” she cried, wringing her hands, “they thought I was only fit to bring him low. Well; after all, is Callista really good for much more than the work they have set her to do?”
“Fair and fragrant, like myself, are they?” she made reply. “Give them to me.” She took them, and bent over them. “The blushing rose,” she said, gravely, “the stately lily, the royal carnation, the golden moly, the purple amaranth, the green bryon, the diosanthos, the sertula, the sweet modest saliunca, fit emblems of Callista.
He would not suffer himself to dwell upon difficulties which he was determined never should be realized. No; of course a heathen he could not marry, but a heathen Callista should not be. He did not see the process, but he was convinced she would become a Christian. Yet somehow so it was, that, if he was able to stultify his reason, he did not quite succeed to his satisfaction with his conscience.
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