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A brave man, however, named Pontius Cominius, declared that he could make his way through the Gauls by night, and climb up the Capitol and down again by a precipice which they did not watch because they thought no one could mount it, and that he would bring back the orders of the Senate.
"You are angry and unaccustomed to bridle your tongue," replied the architect. "Pollux, I repeat it, did not perpetrate the caricature, but a sculptor from Rome." "Which of them? I know them all." "I may not name him." "There you see. Come away Claudia." "Stay," said Pontius, decisively.
"Yes," she said, dully. "Did he bite you?" "I think not pick up that pin, it has fallen out of my dress." The Bithynian obeyed her behest, and while the girl re-fastened her peplum over her shoulders she asked him again: "Who are you? How came the dog in our palace?" "He belongs he belongs to us. We arrived late last night, and Pontius put us " "Then you are with the architect from Rome?"
The architect thought he comprehended the characteristic change in her sentiments, and would not allude to the cause of the violent but transient fever under which she had suffered. "What did you discuss with Caesar to-day?" asked Balbilla of her friend. Pontius looked down at the ground and considered whether he could venture to utter the name of Antinous before the poetess.
And there stood the monarch, a man no longer young, gazing at his performance and never weary of the amusement it afforded him. It pained Pontius keenly, for like all noble natures, he could not bear to discover anything mean or vulgar in a man to whom he had always looked up as to a strong exceptional character.
And you want me to seek your lover?" "Yes, yes, my dear lord! and if you find him tell him I shall be alone to-morrow early, and again towards evening, every day indeed, for then your sister goes to serve her God in her country house." "So you want to make me a lover's go-between. You could not find a more inexperienced one." "Ah! noble Pontius, if you have a heart "
Peter remembered what Jesus had said, "Before the rooster crows, you will three times say that you do not know me." Peter went out of the palace, and wept bitterly. The great council of the Jews might say that a man deserved to die, but they could not put anyone to death. Only the Roman governor could do that. The Roman governor, whose name was Pontius Pilate, was in Jerusalem for the Passover.
When they heard these two answers, being so different the one from the other, it seemed to Pontius that his father's mind had failed him, even as his body had failed him. Nevertheless, when all would have it that the old man himself should be sent for, he yielded to their desire.
He then desired the steward to lead him through the rooms. "Directly at once," answered the Greek, who had attained his present ponderous dimensions through many years of rest: "I will hasten to fetch the keys." And as he went, puffing and panting, he re-arranged with his short, fat fingers the still abundant hair on the right side of his head. Pontius looked after him.
"Thou doest well. Come forth and from the golden cup of Pontius Pilate, held in his own hand, shalt thou drink. Aye, thou doest well," he repeated as she came toward him. "To the heart of Rome screams are dear. Here's to thy screaming, and here's to Rome forever!" and he lifted the cup. "Stay thy hand a moment," and Claudia touched the sleeve of Pilate lightly as she spoke. "What meanest thou?"
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