the past few days
from the gayeties of the world, and give myself up to study and
meditation. Though, after all, I could not deny, if closely questioned,
that my seclusion was but little productive of results; for, upon being
tempted out one evening, sorely against my judgment, to a feast at the
house of the comedian Bassus, the true poetic inspiration overtook me
at the end of my third goblet, and, calling for parchment, I there
accomplished, in one short hour, the greater portion of my task.'

'Then, I presume that your ode, unlike your other works, will be of a
cheerful and lively character, more especially as it is written for such
a festive occasion.'

'Scarcely, perhaps, what the world would call altogether lively, though
here and there a thread of playful thought may gleam upon the more sober
texture of the basis. I have rather judged it proper that, for the due
celebration of an event of such wondrous magnificence, I should give
utterance to deeper and more lasting sentiments, so as to fit the minds
of the spectators for a higher comprehension of its true significance.
But, if you wish, I will read aloud a few of my thoughts; and be assured
that so far no eye has seen the scroll, not even the august eye of the
emperor Titus himself.'

AEnone inclined her head in assent, and he drew from the breast of his
tunic a small roll of parchment, carefully wrapped in a covering of
embroidered silk.

'I commence, of course, by an address to the emperor, whom I call the
most illustrious of all the Caesars, and liken unto Jove. I then
congratulate the spectators not only upon living in his time, but also
upon being there to bask in the effulgence of his majesty; his
countenance being the sight most to be desired, and the games and
combats being merely accessory thereto. After which, I speak to the
gladiators and captives; and prove to them how grateful they should be
to the gods for allowing them the privilege of dying in such an august
presence.'

'Is it such a privilege, do you think?' inquired AEnone.

'Perhaps not a privilege, but certainly no great hardship. The trained
gladiators surely cannot complain, for they have voluntarily assumed the
risks; and as for the captives, the most of them will some day die a
violent death of some kind or another, and, therefore, why not now,
attended by the decent observances of the games and the applause of all
the Roman people? But to proceed. From thence I speak of death--its