vapor of wine
which floated round this chaos of riotous topers slowly rose the pale
image of Satiety watching for victims on the morrow.

The circle of couches on which lay Florus, Favorinus and their
Alexandrian friends stood like an island in the midst of the surging sea
of the orgy. Even here the cup had been bravely passed round, and Florus
was beginning to speak somewhat indistinctly, but conversation had
hitherto had the upper hand.

Two days before, the Emperor had visited the Museum and had carried on
learned discussions with the most prominent of the sages and professors
there, in the presence of their assembled disciples. At last a formal
disputation had arisen, and the dialectic keenness and precision with
which Hadrian, in the purest Attic Greek, had succeeded in driving
his opponents into a corner had excited the greatest admiration. The
Sovereign had quitted the famous institution with a promise to reopen
the contest at an early date. The philosophers, Pancrates and Dionysius
and Apollonius, who took no wine at all, were giving a detailed account
of the different phases of this remarkable disputation and praising the
admirable memory and the ready tongue of the great monarch.

"And you did not even see him at his best," exclaimed Favorinus, the
Gaul, the sophist and rhetorician. "He has received an unfavorable
oracle and the stars seem to confirm the prophecy. This puts him out
of tune. Between ourselves let me tell you I know a few who are
his superiors in dialectic, but in his happiest moments he is
irresistible-irresistible. Since we made up our quarrel he is like a
brother to me. I will defend him against all comers, for, as I say,
Hadrian is my brother."

The Gaul had poured out this speech in a defiant tone and with flashing
eyes. He grew pale in his cups, touchy, boastful and very talkative.

"No doubt you are right," replied Apollonius, "but it seemed to us that
he was bitter in discussion. His eyes are gloomy rather than gay."

"He is my brother," repeated Favorinus, "and as for his eyes, I have
seen them flash--by Hercules! like the radiant sun, or merry twinkling
stars! And his mouth! I know him well! He is my brother, and I will
wager that while he condescended--it is too comical--condescended to
dispute with you--with you, there was a sly smile at each corner of his
mouth--so--look now--like this he smiled."

"I repeat, he seemed to us gloomy rather than gay," retorted Apollonius,
wit