ad not the power even then to endure in his silent and as
it were petrified sorrow, for at moments he made a gesture as if to cast
the dust of the earth on his head, and at moments he groaned deeply; but
seeing Petronius, he sprang up and cried in a tragic voice, so that all
present could hear him,--"Eheu! And thou art guilty of her death! At thy
advice the evil spirit entered these walls,--the evil spirit which, with
one look, drew the life from her breast! Woe is me! Would that my eyes
had not seen the light of Helios! Woe is me! Eheu! eheu!"

And raising his voice still more, he passed into a despairing shout; but
Petronius resolved at that moment to put everything on one cast of the
dice; hence, stretching out his hand, he seized the silk kerchief which
Nero wore around his neck always, and, placing it on the mouth of the
Imperator, said solemnly,--"Lord, Rome and the world are benumbed with
pain; but do thou preserve thy voice for us!"

Those present were amazed; Nero himself was amazed for a moment.
Petronius alone was unmoved; he knew too well what he was doing. He
remembered, besides, that Terpnos and Diodorus had a direct order to
close Caesar's mouth whenever he raised his voice too much and exposed it
to danger.

"O Caesar!" continued he, with the same seriousness and sorrow, "we have
suffered an immeasurable loss; let even this treasure of consolation
remain to us!"

Nero's face quivered, and after a while tears came from his eyes. All
at once he rested his hands on Petronius's shoulders, and, dropping his
head on his breast, began to repeat, amid sobs,

"Thou alone of all thought of this,--thou alone, O Petronius! thou
alone!"

Tigellinus grew yellow from envy; but Petronius continued,--

"Go to Antium! there she came to the world, there joy flowed in on
thee, there solace will come to thee. Let the sea air freshen thy divine
throat; let thy breast breathe the salt dampness. We, thy devoted
ones, will follow thee everywhere; and when we assuage thy pain with
friendship, thou wilt comfort us with song.

"True!" answered Nero, sadly, "I will write a hymn in her honor, and
compose music for it."

"And then thou wilt find the warm sun in Baiae."

"And afterward--forgetfulness in Greece."

"In the birthplace of poetry and song."

And his stony, gloomy state of mind passed away gradually, as clouds
pass that are covering the sun; and then a conversation began which,
though full of sadness, yet was