ve sworn to give this letter into his own hands--do
so I must!' And Sosia, well knowing by experience that Cerberus loves a
sop, thrust some half a dozen sesterces into the hand of the porter.

'Well, well,' said the latter, relenting, 'you may enter if you will;
but, to tell you the truth, Sallust is drinking himself out of his
grief. It is his way when anything disturbs him. He orders a capital
supper, the best wine, and does not give over till everything is out of
his head--but the liquor.'

'An excellent plan--excellent! Ah, what it is to be rich! If I were
Sallust, I would have some grief or another every day. But just say a
kind word for me with the atriensis--I see him coming.'

Sallust was too sad to receive company; he was too sad, also, to drink
alone; so, as was his wont, he admitted his favorite freedman to his
entertainment, and a stranger banquet never was held. For ever and
anon, the kind-hearted epicure sighed, whimpered, wept outright, and
then turned with double zest to some new dish or his refilled goblet.

'My good fellow,' said he to his companion, it was a most awful
judgment--heigho!--it is not bad that kid, eh? Poor, dear
Glaucus!--what a jaw the lion has too! Ah, ah, ah!'

And Sallust sobbed loudly--the fit was stopped by a counteraction of
hiccups.

'Take a cup of wine,' said the freedman.

'A thought too cold: but then how cold Glaucus must be! Shut up the
house to-morrow--not a slave shall stir forth--none of my people shall
honour that cursed arena--No, no!'

'Taste the Falernian--your grief distracts you. By the gods it does--a
piece of that cheesecake.'

It was at this auspicious moment that Sosia was admitted to the presence
of the disconsolate carouser.

'Ho--what art thou?'

'Merely a messenger to Sallust. I give him this billet from a young
female. There is no answer that I know of. May I withdraw?'

Thus said the discreet Sosia, keeping his face muffled in his cloak, and
speaking with a feigned voice, so that he might not hereafter be
recognized.

'By the gods--a pimp! Unfeeling wretch!--do you not see my sorrows?
Go! and the curses of Pandarus with you!'

Sosia lost not a moment in retiring.

'Will you read the letter, Sallust?' said the freedman.

'Letter!--which letter?' said the epicure, reeling, for he began to see
double. 'A curse on these wenches, say I! Am I a man to think
of--(hiccup)--pleasure, when--when--my friend is going to be eat up?'