(A muffled outburst of laughter in banquet hall. Anicetus turns toward window. Uproar dies out.)
They’re drinking deep—the banquet’s at its height
And all therein are kings and queens tonight.
(Goes to urn, mounts it and peers in at window.)
A merry crew! Quite drunk, quite drunk I fear,
My noble Romans!—Burrus’ eyes are blear!
One goblet hence, good Burrus, you will howl!
E’en Seneca sits staring like an owl
And strives to pilot in some heavy sea
That wisdom-laden boat, his head. Ah me,