e to love these too? Where
am I to find the love, since it is not in my heart? And if thy God
desires me to love such persons, why in His all might did He not give
them the forms of Niobe's children, for example, which thou hast seen on
the Palatine? Whoso loves beauty is unable for that very reason to love
deformity. One may not believe in our gods, but it is possible to love
them, as Phidias, Praxiteles, Miron, Skopas, and Lysias loved.

"Should I wish to go whither thou wouldst lead me, I could not. But
since I do not wish, I am doubly unable. Thou believest, like Paul of
Tarsus, that on the other side of the Styx thou wilt see thy Christ in
certain Elysian fields. Let Him tell thee then Himself whether He would
receive me with my gems, my Myrrhene vase, my books published by Sozius,
and my golden-haired Eunice. I laugh at this thought; for Paul of
Tarsus told me that for Christ's sake one must give up wreaths of roses,
feasts, and luxury. It is true that he promised me other happiness, but
I answered that I was too old for new happiness, that my eyes would be
delighted always with roses, and that the odor of violets is dearer to
me than stench from my foul neighbor of the Subura.

"These are reasons why thy happiness is not for me. But there is one
reason more, which I have reserved for the last: Thanatos summons
me. For thee the light of life is beginning; but my sun has set, and
twilight is embracing my head. In other words, I must die, carissime.

"It is not worth while to talk long of this. It had to end thus. Thou,
who knowest Ahenobarbus, wilt understand the position easily. Tigellinus
has conquered, or rather my victories have touched their end. I have
lived as I wished, and I will die as pleases me.

"Do not take this to heart. No God has promised me immortality; hence
no surprise meets me. At the same time thou art mistaken, Vinicius, in
asserting that only thy God teaches man to die calmly. No. Our world
knew, before thou wert born, that when the last cup was drained, it
was time to go,--time to rest,--and it knows yet how to do that with
calmness. Plato declares that virtue is music, that the life of a sage
is harmony. If that be true, I shall die as I have lived,--virtuously.

"I should like to take farewell of thy godlike wife in the words with
which on a time I greeted her in the house of Aulus, 'Very many persons
have I seen, but thy equal I know not.'

"If the soul is more than what Pyrrho think