d crossed as the Ponte Rotto,
but of which only one arch is left now, in midstream.

[Illustration: PONTE ROTTO, NOW DESTROYED

After an engraving made about 1850]

Then, pressing his advantage, the Bore began again. 'If I am any judge
of myself,' he observed, 'you will make me one of your most intimate
friends. I am sure nobody can write such good verses as fast as I can.
As for my singing, I know it for a fact that Hermogenes is decidedly
jealous of me!' 'Have you a mother, Sir?' asked Horace, gravely. 'Have
you any relations to whom your safety is a matter of importance?' 'No,'
answered the other, 'no one. I have buried them all!' 'Lucky people!'
said the poet to himself, and he wished he were dead, too, at that
moment, and he thought of all the deaths he might have died. It was
evidently not written that he should die of poison nor in battle, nor of
a cough, nor of the liver, nor even of gout. He was to be slowly talked
to death by a bore. By this time they were before the temple of Castor
and Pollux, where the great Twin Brethren bathed their horses at
Juturna's spring. The temple of Vesta was before them, and the Sacred
Street turned at right angles to the left, crossing over between a row
of shops on one side and the Julian Rostra on the other, to the Courts
of Law. The Bore suddenly remembered that he was to appear in answer to
an action on that very morning, and as it was already nine o'clock, he
could not possibly walk all the way to Caesar's gardens and be back
before noon, and if he was late, he must forfeit his bail, and the suit
would go against him by default. On the other hand, he had succeeded in
catching the great poet alone, after a hundred fruitless attempts, and
the action was not a very important one, after all. He stopped short.
'If you have the slightest regard for me,' he said, 'you will just go
across with me to the Courts for a moment.' Horace looked at him
curiously, seeing a chance of escape. 'You know where I am going,' he
answered with a smile; 'and as for law, I do not know the first thing
about it.' The Bore hesitated, considered what the loss of the suit must
cost him, and what he might gain by pushing his acquaintance with the
friend of Maecenas and Augustus. 'I am not sure,' he said doubtfully,
'whether I had better give up your company, or my case,' 'My company, by
all means!' cried Horace, with alacrity. 'No!' answered the other,
looking at his victim thoughtfully, 'I think not!'