ese polypi, who hold all they touch,' answered
Sallust, in the same tone, and out of the same play.

The third course, consisting of a variety of fruits, pistachio nuts,
sweetmeats, tarts, and confectionery tortured into a thousand fantastic
and airy shapes, was now placed upon the table; and the ministri, or
attendants, also set there the wine (which had hitherto been handed
round to the guests) in large jugs of glass, each bearing upon it the
schedule of its age and quality.

'Taste this Lesbian, my Pansa,' said Sallust; 'it is excellent.'

'It is not very old,' said Glaucus, 'but it has been made precocious,
like ourselves, by being put to the fire:--the wine to the flames of
Vulcan--we to those of his wife--to whose honour I pour this cup.'

'It is delicate,' said Pansa, 'but there is perhaps the least particle
too much of rosin in its flavor.'

'What a beautiful cup!' cried Clodius, taking up one of transparent
crystal, the handles of which were wrought with gems, and twisted in the
shape of serpents, the favorite fashion at Pompeii.

'This ring,' said Glaucus, taking a costly jewel from the first joint of
his finger and hanging it on the handle, 'gives it a richer show, and
renders it less unworthy of thy acceptance, my Clodius, on whom may the
gods bestow health and fortune, long and oft to crown it to the brim!'

'You are too generous, Glaucus,' said the gamester, handing the cup to
his slave; 'but your love gives it a double value.'

'This cup to the Graces!' said Pansa, and he thrice emptied his calix.
The guests followed his example.

'We have appointed no director to the feast,' cried Sallust.

'Let us throw for him, then,' said Clodius, rattling the dice-box.

'Nay,' cried Glaucus, 'no cold and trite director for us: no dictator of
the banquet; no rex convivii. Have not the Romans sworn never to obey a
king? Shall we be less free than your ancestors? Ho! musicians, let us
have the song I composed the other night: it has a verse on this
subject, "The Bacchic hymn of the Hours".'

The musicians struck their instruments to a wild Ionic air, while the
youngest voice in the band chanted forth, in Greek words, as numbers,
the following strain:--

THE EVENING HYMN OF THE HOURS

I

Through the summer day, through the weary day,
We have glided long;
Ere we speed to the Night through her portals grey,
Hail us with song!--
Wit