"You have got the upper hand, Prefect of Rome," said Salvius Julianus. "I do not understand it, but Narses really abandons Rome to you."
"Ha!" cried Piso, who had entered with the others, "that is your old Cæsarian luck, Cethegus! Your star, which has seemed to wane since this famous cripple's arrival, shines anew. It seems to me that sometimes his mind suffers from attacks of epilepsy. For, with a sound mind, how could he quietly let you enter Rome? No! Quem deus vult perdere dementat! Now will Quintus Piso again wander through the Forum, and look into the book-stalls to see if the Goths have assiduously bought his 'Epistolas ad amabilissimum, carissimum pastorem Adalgothum et ejus pedum'--(Letters to the very amiable and greatly beloved shepherd-boy, Adalgoth, and his bludgeon)."
"So you have composed in exile, like Ovidius?" asked Cethegus, smiling.
"Yes," answered Piso. "The six-footed verses come more readily, since they no longer need to fear the Goths, who are a foot longer. And amid the noise of Gothic banquetings it would not be easy to compose, even in time of peace."
"He has composed some merry verses, intermixed with Gothic words, on that subject too," said Salvius Julianus. "How does it begin, 'Inter hails Gothicum skapja'----"
"Do not wrong my words! It is not permitted to quote falsely what is immortal."
"Well, how go the verses?" asked Cethegus.
"Thus," said Piso:
"De conviviis barbarorum.
Inter: 'Hails Gothicum! skapja matjan jah drinkan!'
Non audet quisquam dignos educere versus:
Calliope madido trepidat se jungere Baccho,
Ne pedibus non stet ebria Musa suis."
"Horrible poetry!" exclaimed Salvius Julianus.