a candle in sunlight."

Petronius, who had an amazing memory, began to repeat extracts from
the hymn and cite single verses, exalt, and analyze the more beautiful
expressions. Lucan, forgetting as it were his envy before the charm of
the poetry, joined his ecstasy to Petronius's words. On Nero's face were
reflected delight and fathomless vanity, not only nearing stupidity, but
reaching it perfectly. He indicated to them verses which he considered
the most beautiful; and finally he began to comfort Lucan, and tell him
not to lose heart, for though whatever a man is born that he is,
the honor which people give Jove does not exclude respect for other
divinities.

Then he rose to conduct Poppaea, who, being really in ill health, wished
to withdraw. But he commanded the guests who remained to occupy their
places anew, and promised to return, In fact, he returned a little
later, to stupefy himself with the smoke of incense, and gaze at further
spectacles which he himself, Petronius, or Tigellinus had prepared for
the feast.

Again verses were read or dialogues listened to in which extravagance
took the place of wit. After that Paris, the celebrated mime,
represented the adventures of Io, the daughter of Inachus. To the
guests, and especially to Lygia, unaccustomed to such scenes, it seemed
that they were gazing at miracles and enchantment. Paris, with motions
of his hands and body, was able to express things apparently impossible
in a dance. His hands dimmed the air, creating a cloud, bright, living,
quivering, voluptuous, surrounding the half-fainting form of a maiden
shaken by a spasm of delight. That was a picture, not a dance; an
expressive picture, disclosing the secrets of love, bewitching and
shameless; and when at the end of it Corybantes rushed in and began
a bacchic dance with girls of Syria to the sounds of cithara, lutes,
drums, and cymbals,--a dance filled with wild shouts and still wilder
license,--it seemed to Lygia that living fire was burning her, and that
a thunderbolt ought to strike that house, or the ceiling fall on the
heads of those feasting there.

But from the golden net fastened to the ceiling only roses fell, and
the now half-drunken Vinicius said to her,--"I saw thee in the house of
Aulus, at the fountain. It was daylight, and thou didst think that
no one saw thee; but I saw thee. And I see thee thus yet, though that
peplus hides thee. Cast aside the peplus, like Crispinilla. See, gods
and men