he has even less taste for them than for the dainties which spoil a man's
morrow. Yesterday in a specially gloomy hour, he spoke of gold. This
was perhaps most worthy of desire. The mere sight of it awakened
pleasant hopes, because it might afford so many gratifications. Then he
laughed bitterly, exclaiming that those joys were the very ones which
produced the most disagreeable satiety. Even gold was not worth the
trouble of stretching out one's hand.

"He is fond of enlarging upon such fancies, and finds images to make his
meaning clear.

"'In the snow upon the highest mountain-peak the feet grow cold,' he
said. 'In the mire they are warm, but the dark mud is ugly and clings to
them.'

"Then I remarked that between the morass and the mountain-snows lie sunny
valleys where life would be pleasant; but he flew into a rage, vehemently
protesting that he would never be content with the pitiable middle course
of Horace. Then he exclaimed: 'Ay, I am vanquished. Octavianus and his
Agrippa are the conquerors; but if a rock mutilates or an elephant's
clumsy foot crushes me, I am nevertheless of a higher quality than
either.'"

"There spoke the old Mark Antony!" cried Cleopatra; but again Lucilius's
loyal heart throbbed with resentment against the woman who had fostered
the recklessness which had brought his powerful friend to ruin, and he
continued:

"But he often sees himself in a different light. 'No writer could invent
a more unworthy life than mine,' he exclaimed recently. 'A farce ending