‘Pardon me, O senator!’ said Sallust; ’I see you flinch; your purple hem cannot save you—­drink!’

‘By the gods,’ said the senator, coughing, ’my lungs are already on fire; you proceed with so miraculous a swiftness, that Phaeton himself was nothing to you.  I am infirm, O pleasant Sallust:  you must exonerate me.’

‘Not I, by Vesta!  I am an impartial monarch—­drink.’

The poor senator, compelled by the laws of the table, was forced to comply.  Alas! every cup was bringing him nearer and nearer to the Stygian pool.

‘Gently! gently! my king,’ groaned Diomed; ‘we already begin to...’

‘Treason!’ interrupted Sallust; ’no stern Brutus here!—­no interference with royalty!’

‘But our female guests...’

‘Love a toper!  Did not Ariadne dote upon Bacchus?’

The feast proceeded; the guests grew more talkative and noisy; the dessert or last course was already on the table; and the slaves bore round water with myrrh and hyssop for the finishing lavation.  At the same time, a small circular table that had been placed in the space opposite the guests suddenly, and as by magic, seemed to open in the centre, and cast up a fragrant shower, sprinkling the table and the guests; while as it ceased the awning above them was drawn aside, and the guests perceived that a rope had been stretched across the ceiling, and that one of those nimble dancers for which Pompeii was so celebrated, and whose descendants add so charming a grace to the festivities of Astley’s or Vauxhall, was now treading his airy measures right over their heads.

This apparition, removed but by a cord from one’s pericranium, and indulging the most vehement leaps, apparently with the intention of alighting upon that cerebral region, would probably be regarded with some terror by a party in May Fair; but our Pompeian revellers seemed to behold the spectacle with delighted curiosity, and applauded in proportion as the dancer appeared with the most difficulty to miss falling upon the head of whatever guest he particularly selected to dance above.  He paid the senator, indeed, the peculiar compliment of literally falling from the rope, and catching it again with his hand, just as the whole party imagined the skull of the Roman was as much fractured as ever that of the poet whom the eagle took for a tortoise.  At length, to the great relief of at least Ione, who had not much accustomed herself to this entertainment, the dancer suddenly paused as a strain of music was heard from without.  He danced again still more wildly; the air changed, the dancer paused again; no, it could not dissolve the charm which was supposed to possess him!  He represented one who by a strange disorder is compelled to dance, and whom only a certain air of music can cure.  At length the musician seemed to hit on the right tune; the dancer gave one leap, swung himself down from the rope, alighted on the floor, and vanished.