"Not yet," ordered Cethegus. "First drink, then kiss. Without Bacchus and Ceres, you know----" "Venus freezes, but not Massurius!" All at once lyres and citharas sounded from the side room, and there entered a procession of eight youths in shining silken garments of a gold-green colour. Foremost the "dresser" and the "carver." The other six bore dishes upon their heads. They passed the guests with measured steps, and halted at the sideboard of citron-wood. While they were busy there, castanets and cymbals were heard from another part of the house; the large double doors turned upon their shining bronze hinges, and a swarm of slaves in the becoming costume of Corinthian youths streamed into the room. Some handed bread in ornamentally-perforated baskets; others whisked the flies away with fans of ostrich feathers and palm-leaves; some gracefully poured oil into the wall-lamps from double-handled vases; whilst others swept the crumbs from the mosaic pavement with besoms of Egyptian reeds, or helped Ganymede to fill the cups, which now were circling merrily. The conversation grew more rapid and animated, and Cethegus, who, although he remained cool and collected, seemed to be quite lost in the enjoyment of the moment, charmed the young guests by his youthful gaiety. "What do you say?" asked the host, "shall we play dice between the dishes? There stands the dice-box, near Piso." "Well, Massurius," observed Cethegus, with a sarcastic look at the slave-dealer, "will you try your luck with me once more? Will you bet against me? Give him the dice-box, Syphax," he said to the Moor. "Mercury forbid!" answered Massurius, with comical fright. "Have nothing to do with the Prefect he has inherited the luck of his ancestor, Julius Cæsar." "Omen accipio!" laughed Cethegus. "I accept the omen, with the dagger of Brutus into the bargain." "I tell you, he is a magician! Only lately he won an unwinnable bet against me about this black demon," and the speaker threw a cactus-fig at the slave's face, but Syphax caught it cleverly with his shining white teeth, and quietly ate it up. "Well done, Syphax!" said Cethegus. "Roses from the thorns of the enemy! Thou canst become a conjurer as soon as I let thee free." "Syphax does not wish to be free: he will always be your Syphax, and save your life as you saved his." "What is that--thy life?" asked Lucius Licinius. "Did you pardon him?" asked Marcus. "More than that, I bought him off." "Yes, with my money!" grumbled Massurius. "You know that I immediately gave him the money I won from you as his private possession," answered Cethegus. "What about this bet? Let us hear. Perhaps it will afford a subject for my epigrams," said Piso. "Retire, Syphax. There! the cook is bringing us his masterpiece, it seems." CHAPTER IX.