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 ladies' apartments. After him they ran, hopeless of removing Cleopatra's chariot or of interesting him in the Septuagint. They would be lucky if they secured their lives. He climbed up to look at a ceiling. They climbed too. He ran along a plank; so did the Jews. They did not speak, partly from lack of breath, partly because they were afraid of his reply. At last, turning in their faces, he asked, "Why don't you eat pork? The counter-deputation shouted again. The Jews replied that different races ate different things, and one of them, to carry off the situation, said some people didn't eat lamb. "Of course they don't," said the Emperor, "Lamb is beastly." The situation grew worse. A fit of fury had seized Caligula at the thought of lamb and he yelled, "What are your laws? I wish to know what your laws are!" They began to tell him and he cried out, "Shut those windows," and ran away down a corridor. Then he turned with extraordinary gentleness and said, "I beg your pardon, what were you saying?" They began to tell him of their laws, and he said, "We'll have all the old pictures hung together here, I think." Stopping anew, he looked round at his shattered train of ambassadors and artisans, and smiling, remarked, "And these are the people who think I am not a god. I don't blame them. I merely pity them. They can go." Philo led his party back to Alexandria, there to meditate on the accident that had so spoilt their little trip: Caligula was mad.

Yet did it signify—signify in the long run? The history of the Chosen People is full of such contretemps, but they survive and thrive. Six