was indeed the life of the whole company,
voluble, witty, versatile, and at times eloquent, so far as the topics of
the day gave room for eloquence.

And now, to the melody of Lydian lutes, two slaves introduced a huge
silver dish, loaded by the vast brawn of the Umbrian boar, garnished with
leaves of chervil, and floating in a rich sauce of anchovies, the dregs of
Coan wine, white pepper, vinegar, and olives. The carver brandished his
knife in graceful and fantastic gestures, proud of his honorable task; and
as he plunged it into the savory meat, and the delicious savor rushed up
to his nostrils, he laid down the blade, spread out his hands in an
ecstacy, and cried aloud, "ye Gods, how glorious!"

"Excellent well, my Glycon," cried Curius, delighted with the expressive
pantomine of the well skilled Greek; "smells it so savory?"

"I have carved many a boar from Lucania and from Umbria also; to say
nothing of those from the Laurentian marshes, which are bad, seeing that
they are fed on reeds only and marsh grass; most noble Curius; and never
put I knife into such an one as this. There are two inches on it of pure
fat, softer than marrow. He was fed upon holm acorns, I'll be sworn, and
sweet chesnuts, and caught in a mild south wind!"

"Fewer words, you scoundrel," exclaimed Catiline, laughing at the fellow's
volubility, "and quicker carving, if you wish not to visit the pistrinum.
You have set Curius' mouth watering, so that he will be sped with longing,
before you have helped Fulvia and your mistress. Fill up, you knaves, fill
up; nay! not the Chian now; the Falernian from the Faustian hills, or the
Caecuban? Which shall it be, my Curius?"

"The Caecuban, by all the Gods! I hold it the best vintage ever, and yours
is curious. Besides, the Falernian is too dry to drink before the meat.
Afterward, if, as Glycon says, the boar hath a flavor of the south, it
will be excellent, indeed."

"Are as you as constant, Paullus, in your love for the boar, as these
other epicures?" cried Fulvia, who, despite the depreciating tone in which
she spoke, had sent her own plate for a second slice.

"No! by the Gods! Fulvia," he replied, "I am but a sorry epicure, and I
love the boar better in his reedy fen, or his wild thicket on the Umbrian
hills, with his eye glaring red in rage, and his tusks white with foam,
than girt with condiments and spices upon a golden dish."

"A strange taste," said Curius, "I had for my part rather meet