"It stands fixed for the ninth ide of August," answered Pansa, "on the day after the Vulcanalia; we have a most lovely young lion for the occasion."
"Whom shall we get for him to eat?" asked Clodius, "Alas! there is a great scarcity of criminals. You must positively find some innocent or other to condemn to the lion, Pansa!"
"Indeed I have thought very seriously about it of late," replied the ædile, gravely. "It was a most infamous law that which forbade us to send our own slaves to the wild beasts. Not to let us do what we like with our own, that's what I call an infringement on property itself."
"Not so in the good old days of the republic," sighed Sallust.
"And then this pretended mercy to the slaves is such a disappointment to the poor people. How they do love to see a good tough battle between a man and a lion! and all this innocent pleasure they may lose (if the gods don't send us a good criminal soon) from this cursed law."
"What can be worse policy," said Clodius, sententiously, "than to interfere with the manly amusements of the people?"
"Well, thank Jupiter and the Fates! we have no Nero at present," said Sallust.
"He was, indeed, a tyrant; he shut up our amphitheatre for ten years."
"I wonder it did not create a rebellion," said Sallust.
"It very nearly did," returned Pansa, with his mouth full of wild boar.