'May this cup be my last!' said the young Sallust, as the table, cleared
of its first stimulants, was now loaded with the substantial part of the
entertainment, and the ministering slave poured forth to him a brimming
cyathus--'May this cup be my last, but it is the best wine I have drunk
at Pompeii!'

'Bring hither the amphora,' said Glaucus, 'and read its date and its
character.'

The slave hastened to inform the party that the scroll fastened to the
cork betokened its birth from Chios, and its age a ripe fifty years.

'How deliciously the snow has cooled it!' said Pansa. 'It is just
enough.'

'It is like the experience of a man who has cooled his pleasures
sufficiently to give them a double zest,' exclaimed Sallust.

'It is like a woman's "No",' added Glaucus: 'it cools, but to inflame
the more.'

'When is our next wild-beast fight?' said Clodius to Pansa.

'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!'