splendid eyes and a dark complexion, he was the impersonation
of youth and strength, as it were. To Lygia he seemed so beautiful
that though her first amazement had passed, she was barely able to
answer,--"A greeting, Marcus."

"Happy," said he, "are my eyes, which see thee; happy my ears, which
hear thy voice, dearer to me than the sound of lutes or citharas. Were
it commanded me to choose who was to rest here by my side at this feast,
thou, Lygia, or Venus, I would choose thee, divine one!"

And he looked at the maiden as if he wished to sate himself with the
sight of her, to burn her eyes with his eyes. His glance slipped from
her face to her neck and bare arms, fondled her shapely outlines,
admired her, embraced her, devoured her; but besides desire, there was
gleaming in him happiness, admiration, and ecstasy beyond limit.

"I knew that I should see thee in Caesar's house," continued he; "but
still, when I saw thee, such delight shook my whole soul, as if a
happiness entirely unexpected had met me."

Lygia, having recovered herself and feeling that in that throng and in
that house he was the only being who was near to her, began to converse
with him, and ask about everything which she did not understand and
which filled her with fear. Whence did he know that he would find her in
Caesar's house? Why is she there? Why did Caesar take her from Pomponia?
She is full of fear where she is, and wishes to return to Pomponia. She
would die from alarm and grief were it not for the hope that Petronius
and he will intercede for her before Caesar.

Vinicius explained that he learned from Aulus himself that she had been
taken. Why she is there, he knows not. Caesar gives account to no one of
his orders and commands. But let her not fear. He, Vinicius, is near her
and will stay near her. He would rather lose his eyes than not see her;
he would rather lose his life than desert her. She is his soul, and
hence he will guard her as his soul. In his house he will build to her,
as to a divinity, an altar on which he will offer myrrh and aloes,
and in spring saffron and apple-blossoms; and since she has a dread of
Caesar's house, he promises that she shall not stay in it.

And though he spoke evasively and at times invented, truth was to
be felt in his voice, because his feelings were real. Genuine pity
possessed him, too, and her words went to his soul so thoroughly that
when she began to thank him and assure him that Pomponia wo