Senex (impatiently). Dear me, no! The Hibernian Harp be—jangled. As, indeed, it is, and unstrung into the bargain.
Juvenis (relieved). Why, have you then, like the other Minstrel Boy, "torn its chords asunder"?
Senex. Well, no, not that exactly. I fear its native thrummers will spare others that trouble. But—ahem!—it is the Horatian Lyre that interests me at present.
Juvenis. I see:—
"Quem virum aut heroa lyra vel acri
Tibia sumis celebrare, Clio?
Quem deum? Cujus recinet jocosa Nomen imago,
Aut in umbrosis Heliconis oris
Aut super Pindo gelidove in Hæmo?"
Senex (musingly). Hum! I have not yet tried the Tibia—the shrill pipe—but I may.
Juvenis. Doubtless; and you are quite equal to it.
Senex (drily). Thanks! But I've no wish, my dear Primula, "to play the rôle of elderly Narcissus." At present my part is only that of Echo—to the Venusian's vibrant voice.
[Muses.
Juvenis (taking advantage of the opportunity). Well, my dear Gladstonius, there are one or two little matters upon which I want to take your opinion. For example, Cæcilius——