‘Trust an actor to pay a compliment,’ whispered Vatinius to Tigellinus. ‘Or a poet either,’ said Tigellinus, with a glance at Lucan. ‘Or an adventurer and a parasite either,’ returned the irascible Spaniard, who had overheard the innuendo. ‘Now, if I am to be the _arbiter elegantiarum_, I will allow no quarrels,’ said Petronius. ‘And I at least am grateful to Paris and Aliturus, and mean to show my gratitude by a compliment. Don’t class me among the poets who recite in the dog-days, for my little poem--written while Paris was dancing “Achilles”--is only four lines long. Spare my blushes and let Lucan--as he is a poet--read it.’ ‘Don’t let him read it,’ whispered Tigellinus; ‘he will read it badly on purpose.’ But Petronius handed his little waxen tablets to Lucan, who, with a glance of disdain at Tigellinus, read with perfect expression the four celebrated lines: ‘He fights, plays, revels, loves and whirls, and stands, Speaks with mute eloquence and rhythmic hands. Silence is voiceful through each varying part, In each fair feature--’tis the crown of Art.’[38] A loud exclamation of ‘_Euge!_’ and ‘Σοφῶς!’ burst from the hearers when Lucan had read these admirable lines; and the two actors repaid the poet by the most gracious of their bows and smiles. Nor did they confine their gratitude to smiles, but gave further specimens of some of the laughable dances which were in vogue, such as ‘the owl’ and ‘the grimace,’ ending with a spectacle at once graceful and innocent--namely, the lovely flower-dance with its refrain of ‘Where are my roses, where my violets, where my parsleys fair?’ They went to bed that night each of them the happy possessor of twelve thousand sesterces. When Agrippina, a month later, heard this, she reproached Nero for his gross extravagance. ‘What did I give them?’ he asked. ‘You paid them twelve thousand sesterces each for a night’s dancing.’ ‘Did I?’ said Nero, glad to show his defiance. ‘I never knew before that I was so mean;’ and he immediately ordered the sum to be doubled. CHAPTER XVII _AMUSEMENTS OF AN EMPEROR_ Οὐ παύσομαι τὰς Χάριτας Μούσαις συγκαταμιγνύς. EURIPIDES. ‘Esclave! apporte-moi des roses, Le parfum des roses est doux.’ VICTOR HUGO.