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I shall see a burning city and finish the Troyad," said Nero, setting aside his lute. Then he turned to the consul, "If I go at once, shall I see the fire?" "Lord," answered Lecanius, as pale as a wall, "the whole city is one sea of flame; smoke is suffocating the inhabitants, and people faint, or cast themselves into the fire from delirium. Rome is perishing, lord."
"He will read a new book of the Troyad this evening, and invites me to come. "I have only the order to deliver the letter," said the centurion. "Yes, there will be no answer. But, centurion, thou mightst rest a while with us and empty a goblet of wine?" "Thanks to thee, noble lord. A goblet of wine I will drink to thy health willingly; but rest I may not, for I am on duty."
About a week after the return of Vinicius from Rome, Cæsar read in a small circle an extract from his Troyad; when he had finished and the shouts of rapture had ended, Petronius, interrogated by a glance from Cæsar, replied, "Common verses, fit for the fire." The hearts of those present stopped beating from terror. Since the years of his childhood Nero had never heard such a sentence from any man.
"Thy mind has grown utterly barren, Tigellinus. And I see, besides, that thou dost set no great value on my talent or my Troyad, since thou judgest that any sacrifice would be too great for it." Tigellinus was confused; but Nero, as if wishing to change the conversation, added after a while, "Summer is passing. Oh, what a stench there must be in that Rome now!
Petronius shrugged his shoulders, and, clapping Tigellinus on the back as he would a freedman, answered, "Thou knowest as well as I what to think of that." "I do not dare to rival thee in wisdom." "And thou art right, for when Cæsar reads to us a new book from the Troyad, thou, instead of crying out like a jackdaw, wouldst have to give an opinion that was not pointless." Tigellinus bit his lips.
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