y frescoes, the excellence of thy wine, the
cunning of thy cook, and the service of thy slaves, little didst thou
dream that nineteen centuries later would find thy house roofless, dug
up from the bowels of the earth, and thy cherished rooms a show to be
gaped at by all who cared to pay a miserable fee. Least of all didst
thou think then that Pharos the Egyptian would be standing in the room
where once thou didst rule so absolute, telling thy faults and follies
to a man of a race that in thy day was well-nigh unknown."

He stopped for a moment, and then, turning to me again, recommenced with
fresh energy:

"The owner of this house, Tullus Agrippa, was avaricious, cruel, vain,
and sensual. He gave of his wealth only when he was assured of a large
return. He was hated on every hand, and by his own family and dependants
most of all. What did his wealth avail him on that last dread day, when
the streets were filled with flying citizens, when all was confusion and
none knew which way to turn for safety? The catastrophe found him
tossing on a bed of sickness and scarcely able to stand alone. With the
first shock of the earthquake he called imperiously for his favourite
slave, but received no answer. He called again, this time almost with
entreaty. Still no answer came. The walls of his house trembled and
shook as he rose from his couch and staggered out into the fast
darkening street. Like a blind man he groped his way to yonder corner,
calling upon the names of his gods as he went, and offering every
sestertia in his possession to the person who would conduct him to a
place of safety. A man brushed against him. He looked up and recognised
the gladiator, Tymon, the man he had encouraged and whose richest patron
he had been. Accordingly, he seized him and clung to him, offering gifts
innumerable if he would only carry him as far as the Marine Gate. But
this, as Tymon knew, was no time for helping others, with that terrible
shower of ashes pouring down like rain. The gladiator cast him off, but
the other was not to be denied. He struggled to his knees and threw his
arms around the strong man's legs, but only for an instant. Roused to a
pitch of fury by his terror, Tymon struck him a blow on the temple with
the full strength of his ponderous fist. The old man stumbled against
the wall, clutched at it for support, and at length fell senseless upon
the ground. The shower of ashes and scoria quickly covered him, and
nineteen hundr