she saw his prominent blue eyes, blinking before the excess of light,
glassy, without thought, resembling the eyes of the dead.

"Is that the hostage with whom Vinicius is in love?" asked he, turning
to Petronius.

"That is she," answered Petronius.

"What are her people called?"

"The Lygians."

"Does Vinicius think her beautiful?"

"Array a rotten olive trunk in the peplus of a woman, and Vinicius will
declare it beautiful. But on thy countenance, incomparable judge, I
read her sentence already. Thou hast no need to pronounce it! The
sentence is true: she is too dry, thin, a mere blossom on a slender
stalk; and thou, O divine æsthete, esteemest the stalk in a woman.
Thrice and four times art thou right! The face alone does not signify.
I have learned much in thy company, but even now I have not a perfect
cast of the eye. But I am ready to lay a wager with Tullius Senecio
concerning his mistress, that, although at a feast, when all are
reclining, it is difficult to judge the whole form, thou hast said in
thy mind already, 'Too narrow in the hips.'"

"Too narrow in the hips," answered Nero, blinking.

On Petronius's lips appeared a scarcely perceptible smile; but Tullius
Senecio, who till that moment was occupied in conversing with Vestinius,