But Nero looked carefully at Petronius, whose praises were desired by
him always before every other, and who said,--"If it is a question of
music, Orpheus must at this moment be as yellow from envy as Lucan, who
is here present; and as to the verses, I am sorry that they are not
worse; if they were I might find proper words to praise them."

Lucan did not take the mention of envy evil of him; on the contrary, he
looked at Petronius with gratitude, and, affecting ill-humor, began to
murmur,--"Cursed fate, which commanded me to live contemporary with such
a poet. One might have a place in the memory of man, and on Parnassus;
but now one will quench, as a candle in sunlight."

Petronius, who had an amazing memory, began to repeat extracts from the
hymn and cite single verses, exalt, and analyze the more beautiful
expressions. Lucan, forgetting as it were his envy before the charm of
the poetry, joined his ecstasy to Petronius's words. On Nero's face
were reflected delight and fathomless vanity, not only nearing
stupidity, but reaching it perfectly. He indicated to them verses which
he considered the most beautiful; and finally he began to comfort Lucan,
and tell him not to lose heart, for though whatever a man is born that
he is, the honor which people give Jove does not exclude respect for
other divinities.

Then he rose to conduct Poppæa, who, being really in ill health, wished
to withdraw. But he commanded the guests who remained to occupy their
places anew, and promised to return, In fact, he returned a little
later, to stupefy himself with the smoke of incense, and gaze at further
spectacles which he himself, Petronius, or Tigellinus had prepared for
the feast.