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A thing I always have at heart is the introduction of new and worthy members into the class of Knights, for it is in that way alone that its fallen dignity can be restored. This ring, my Pontius, gives you the rank of eques, and such a man as you are, the husband of Balbilla and the friend of Caesar may no doubt by-and-bye find a seat in the Senate.
"But when Orpheus sings the trees dance, the Muse can turn dull, motionless stones into a Bacchante, and when Balbilla appears Timon is at once transformed into the happy Verus." "The miracle does not astonish me," laughed the girl. "But is it permitted to ask what dark spirit so effectually produced the contrary result, and made a Timon of the fair Lucilla's happy husband?"
"Most happy Verus!" "What am I to understand by those words, charming Balbilla?" "The poor architect is able to please by being a good guide, while to you belongs the whole heart of Lucilla, your sweet wife." "And she has the whole of mine so far as it is not full of Balbilla. Good-night, saucy Muse; sleep well."
"And yet you may freely dispose of all that I have and am, for my grandfather was your grandfather's slave." "I did not know" said Balbilla, with increasing confusion. "Is it possible that your noble grandfather's instructor, the venerable Sophinus, is altogether forgotten. Sophinus, whom your grandfather freed, and who continued to teach your father also."
I cannot stay with you truly I cannot, I have been expected long since. And when we are in Rome never let me find you telling the children those old dismal stories I will not have it." As Verus, preceded by his slaves bearing torches, made his way through the garden of the Caesareum he saw a light in the rooms of Balbilla, the poetess, and he called up merrily: "Good-night, fair Muse!"
"I ought rather to beware of letting you see the monster, or our joyous muse Balbilla might easily become the sinister Hecate. But the malicious sprite is close at hand, for he is hidden in this little roll." "A document from Caesar?" "Oh! no, only a letter from a Jew." "Possibly the father of some fair daughter!" "Wrongly guessed as wrong as possible!" "You excite my curiosity."
"Probably of the complaisant model who ventures into Lochias at night?" "No; a lady of rank will sit to me." "An Alexandrian?" "Oh, no. A beauty in the train of the Empress." "What is her name? I know all the Roman ladies." "Balbilla." "Balbilla? There are many of that name. What is she like, the lady you mean?" asked Hadrian, with a cunning glance of amusement.
"I must put in a word on behalf of Pontius the architect," interposed Verus. "He is a man of at least average height." "Let us admit it to satisfy your sense of justice," returned Balbilla. "Let us admit it a man of average height, with a papyrus-roll in his right-hand and a stylus in the left, controls them. Now, does my way of stating it please you better?"
I cannot stay with you truly I cannot, I have been expected long since. And when we are in Rome never let me find you telling the children those old dismal stories I will not have it." As Verus, preceded by his slaves bearing torches, made his way through the garden of the Caesareum he saw a light in the rooms of Balbilla, the poetess, and he called up merrily: "Good-night, fair Muse!"
But Balbilla had been the first to discover the fire and quite at the beginning, for after sitting industriously at her studies, and before going to bed, she had looked out toward the sea. She had instantly run out, cried "Fire!" and was now seeking for a chamberlain to awake Sabina. The whole of Lochias flared and shone in a purple and golden glow.
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