ng his head; then he began to
speak with a voice broken by passion,--"I desired her before, but now I
desire her still more. When I caught her arm, flame embraced me. I
must have her. Were I Zeus, I would surround her with a cloud, as he
surrounded Io, or I would fall on her in rain, as he fell on Danae; I
would kiss her lips till it pained! I would hear her scream in my arms.
I would kill Aulus and Pomponia, and bear her home in my arms. I will
not sleep to-night. I will give command to flog one of my slaves, and
listen to his groans--"

"Calm thyself," said Petronius. "Thou hast the longing of a carpenter
from the Subura."

"All one to me what thou sayst. I must have her. I have turned to thee
for aid; but if thou wilt not find it, I shall find it myself. Aulus
considers Lygia as a daughter; why should I look on her as a slave? And
since there is no other way, let her ornament the door of my house, let
her anoint it with wolf's fat, and let her sit at my hearth as wife."

"Calm thyself, mad descendant of consuls. We do not lead in barbarians
bound behind our cars, to make wives of their daughters. Beware of
extremes. Exhaust simple, honorable methods, and give thyself and me
time for meditation. Chrysothemis seemed to me too a daughter of Jove,
and still I did not marry her, just as Nero did not marry Acte, though
they called her a daughter of King Attalus. Calm thyself! Think that if
she wishes to leave Aulus for thee, he will have no right to detain her.
Know also that thou art not burning alone, for Eros has roused in her
the flame too. I saw that, and it is well to believe me. Have patience.
There is a way to do everything, but to-day I have thought too much
already, and it tires me. But I promise that to-morrow I will think of
thy love, and unless Petronius is not Petronius, he will discover some
method."

They were both silent again.

"I thank thee," said Vinicius at last. "May Fortune be bountiful to
thee."

"Be patient."

"Whither hast thou given command to bear us?"

"To Chrysothemis."

"Thou art happy in possessing her whom thou lovest."

"I? Dost thou know what amuses me yet in Chrysothemis? This, that she is
false to me with my freedman Theokles, and thinks that I do not
notice it. Once I loved her, but now she amuses me with her lying and
stupidity. Come with me to her. Should she begin to flirt with thee, and
write letters on the table with her fingers steeped in wine, know that I
shall not