come to my house. We will talk of Antium, and of something else."

"That is well," answered Petronius, coming out of the litter. "Thou must
know, besides, that we start for Antium the day after to-morrow."

"Whence should I know that?"

"In what world art thou living? Well, I shall be the first to announce
the news to thee. Yes; be ready for the day after to-morrow in the
morning. Peas in olive oil have not helped, a cloth around his thick
neck has not helped, and Bronzebeard is hoarse. In view of this, delay
is not to be mentioned. He curses Rome and its atmosphere, with what the
world stands on; he would be glad to level it to the earth or to destroy
it with fire, and he longs for the sea at the earliest. He says that
the smells which the wind brings from the narrow streets are driving him
into the grave. To-day great sacrifices were offered in all the temples
to restore his voice; and woe to Rome, but especially to the Senate,
should it not return quickly!"

"Then there would be no reason for his visit to Achaea?"

"But is that the only talent possessed by our divine Caesar?" asked
Petronius, smiling. "He would appear in the Olympic games, as a poet,
with his 'Burning of Troy'; as a charioteer, as a musician, as an
athlete,--nay, even as a dancer, and would receive in every case all
the crowns intended for victors. Dost know why that monkey grew hoarse?
Yesterday he wanted to equal our Paris in dancing, and danced for us the
adventures of Leda, during which he sweated and caught cold. He was as
wet and slippery as an eel freshly taken from water. He changed masks
one after another, whirled like a spindle, waved his hands like a
drunken sailor, till disgust seized me while looking at that great
stomach and those slim legs. Paris taught him during two weeks; but
imagine to thyself Ahenobarbus as Leda or as the divine swan. That was a
swan!--there is no use in denying it. But he wants to appear before the
public in that pantomime,--first in Antium, and then in Rome."

"People are offended already because he sang in public; but to think
that a Roman Caesar will appear as a mime! No; even Rome will not endure
that!"

"My dear friend, Rome will endure anything; the Senate will pass a vote
of thanks to the 'Father of his country.' And the rabble will be elated
because Caesar is its buffoon."

"Say thyself, is it possible to be more debased?"

Petronius shrugged his shoulders. "Thou art living by thyself at home,