‘Let others envy Florus’ lot;
          To wander through the shops for drink,
          Or, into foolish dreaming sink
          In a cook-shop, where sticky flies
          Buzz round him till he shuts his eyes
          Is Florus’ taste—­I’d rather not?’

   [From verses by Hadrian and Florus, preserved in Spartianus.]

Hardly had he ended the lines, muttering them to himself with much relish as he wrote, when the waiter showed in Pollux.  The sculptor had failed to find Antinous, and suggested that the young man had probably gone home; he also begged that he might not be detained long at supper, for he had met his master Papias, who had been extremely annoyed by his long absence.  Hadrian was no longer satisfied with the artist’s society, for the conversation in the next room was to him far more attractive than that of the worthy young fellow.  He himself was anxious to quit the meal soon, for he felt restless and uneasy.  Antinous could no doubt easily find his way to Lochias, but recollections of the evil omens he had observed in the heavens last night flitted across his soul like bats through a festal hall, marring the pleasure on which he again tried to concentrate it, in order to enjoy his hours of liberty.

Even Pollux was not so light-hearted as before.  His long walk had made him hungry, and he addressed himself so vigorously to the excellent dishes which rapidly followed each other by his entertainer’s orders, and emptied the cup with such unfailing diligence, that the Emperor was astonished:  but the more he had to think about, the less did he talk.

Pollux, to be sure, had had his answer ready for his master, and without considering how easy it would have been to part from him in kindness, he had shortly and roundly quitted his service.  Now indeed he stood on his own feet, and he was longing to tell Arsinoe and his parents of what he had done.

During the course of the meal his mother’s advice recurred to his mind:  to do his best to win the favor and good will of the architect whose guest he was; but he set it aside, for he was accustomed to owe all he gained to his own exertions, and though he still keenly felt in Hadrian the superiority of a powerful mind, their expedition through the city had not brought him any nearer to the Roman.  Some insurmountable barrier stood fixed between himself and this restless, inquisitive man, who required so many answers that no one else had time to ask a question, and who when he was silent looked so absorbed and unapproachable that no one would have ventured to disturb him.  The bold young artist had, however, tried now and again to break through the fence, but each time, he had at once been seized with a feeling, of which he could not rid himself, that he had done something awkward and unbecoming.  He felt in his intercourse with the architect as a noble dog might feel that sported with a lion, and such sport could