"That I should give up writing poetry and devote myself to strict scientific studies. He advised me to try astronomy."
"Astronomy," repeated Verus, growing graver. Farewell, fair one; I must go to Caesar!"
"We were with him yesterday at Lochias. How everything is changed there! The pretty little gate house is gone, there is nothing more to be seen of all the cheerful bustle of builders and artists, and what were gay workshops are turned into dull, commonplace halls. The screens in the hall of the Muses had to go a week ago, and with them the young scatter-brain who set himself against my curls with so much energy that I was on the point of sacrificing them—"
"Without them you would no longer be Balbilla," cried Verus eagerly. "The artist condemns all that is not permanently beautiful, but we are glad to see any thing that is graceful, and can find pleasure in it with the other children of the time. The sculptor may dress his goddesses after the fashion of graver days and the laws of his art, but mortal women—if he is wise—after the fashion of the day. However, I am heartily sorry for that clever, genial young fellow. He has offended Caesar and was turned out of the palace, and now he is nowhere to be found."
"Oh!" cried Balbilla, full of regret, "poor man—and such a fine fellow! And my bust? we must seek him out. If the opportunity offers I will entreat Caesar—"
"Hadrian will hear nothing about him. Pollux has offended him deeply."
"From whom do you know that?"
"From Antinous."
"We saw him, too, only yesterday," cried Balbilla, eagerly.
"If ever a man was permitted to wear the form of a god among mortals, it is he."