while I have stood waiting to
catch thy eye and ear, my virtue has shot up like a wild vine. The soul
has grown. I ought therefore rather to crave forgiveness of thee, for
breaking up a study which was so profound, and doubtless so agreeable
too.'

'Agreeable you will certainly grant it, when I tell you I was writing to
your ancient friend and pupil, the daughter of Gracchus.'

'Ah, the blessings of all the gods upon her. My dreams are still of her.
I loved her, Piso, as I never loved beside, either form, shadow, or
substance. I used to think that I loved her as a parent loves his
child--a brother his sister; but it was more than that. Aristotle is not
so dear to me as she. Bear witness these tears! I would now, bent as I
am, travel the Syrian deserts to see her; especially if I might hear
from her mouth a chapter of the great philosopher. Never did Greek,
always music, seem so like somewhat more divinely harmonious than
anything of earth, as when it came through her lips. Yet, by Hercules!
she played me many a mad prank! 'Twould have been better for her and for
letters, had I chastised her more, and loved her less. Condescend, noble
Piso, to name me to her, and entreat her not to fall away from her
Greek. That will be a consolation under all losses, and all sorrows.'

'I will not fail to do so. And now in what is my opinion wanted?'

'It is simply in the matter of these volumes, where thou wilt have them
bestowed. The cases here, by their superior adorning, seem designed for
the great master of all, and his disciples; and it is here I would fain
order them. Would it so please thee?'

'No, Solon, not here. That is designed for a very different Master and
his disciples.'

Solon looked at me as if unwilling to credit his ears, hoping that
something would be added more honorable to the affronted philosopher and
myself. But nothing coming, he said:

'I penetrate--I apprehend. This, the very centre and post of honor, thou
reservest for the atheistical Jews. The gods help us! I doubt I should
straight resign my office. Well, well; let us hope that the increase of
years will bring an increase of wisdom. We cannot look for fruit on a
sapling. Youth seeks novelty. But the gods be thanked! Youth lasts not
long, but is a fault daily corrected; else the world were at a bad pass.
Rome is not fallen, nor the fame of the Stagyrite hurt for this. But
'tis grievous to behold!'

So murmuring, as he retreated to the farther part