“My lord,” said Barbillus, bowing, “I have come on the business you know of. Caesar commissioned me....”
“Ah! now I recognize you!” exclaimed Parthenius after looking at him closely for a moment. “You are Barbillus, the stage-manager and prompter at the Temple of Isis. Charmed, by the gods, I am sure!”
Barbillus, who was not particularly pleased at this reception, looked down in embarrassment. He did not know whether to take up a jesting tone in reply, or to try to be dignified and haughty; so as to impress the adjutant, at any rate, even if it were impossible with the chamberlain, who was cognizant of his miserable failure.
“Do you recollect,” continued Parthenius, turning to Clodianus with a meaning glance, “that charming creature, whose coarse-fisted slave had the audacity....”
“To be sure. Caesar told me of that wonderful intrigue. I always used to be his right-hand man in such little affairs.”
“Then you know the lovely joke about the mask of Osiris?”
“Of course. But let this man speak; he is evidently in a hurry.”
“You are right,” said Barbillus with dignified calm. “In spite of the inconvenient hour I have ventured to disturb the illustrious Parthenius, in order to inform him that I have found the ways and means....”
“My friend,” interrupted the chamberlain, “I see there my friend Latinus, the actor, who is looking anxiously for me. Every second of my time is precious. Clodianus, would you have the kindness to hear what this worthy priest has to say, and in case of need to give him your always valuable advice. Then, when my actors have done, you can tell me what he proposes. And at any rate, Barbillus, if your plans should not necessitate immediate action, pray remain as my guest.”
He waved a polite hand and turned away with a light step. Clodianus drew the priest a little on one side.