His eyes eagerly tried to glean from the Emperor’s impassive face some trace of the bent of his thoughts, but without result. ‘This noble lady,’ said Tiberius, ‘who saw you last night, has deigned to take so much interest in you, as to wish to hear from your own lips the story of your life. With regard to the specimen you brought us, that is yet under consideration.’ ‘The noble lady honours me with her regard,’ replied Masthlion, gazing at her with undisguised admiration; ‘I will tell her willingly; but there is little worthy of notice. The life of a poor workman is seldom anything but the dreary history of toil for daily bread. One day resembles another, save when food is scarcer and labour harder.’ ‘Go on!’ said Plautia. Masthlion did as he was requested, and gave a brief sketch of his life, down to the discovery already described. Plautia listened attentively, whilst Caesar beguiled the time in sipping his wine and gazing at her face. ‘Good!’ said Tiberius, as the speaker concluded; ‘and now it would be idle to mislead you with sanguine hopes. After so long a labour it must needs be disappointing to know, that the verdict upon your invention seems to be unfavourable. Build not, therefore, extravagant visions of success.’ Masthlion listened in silence. It sounded like the knell of his hopes. His eyes first sought one and then the other, as if to assure himself that no joke was being passed upon him; then he folded his arms across his breast with quiet dignity, but infinite sadness. ‘Take heart, potter!’ said Plautia, who seemed really touched, as far as it was possible for an aristocrat to be with one of Masthlion’s degree. ‘A lifelong task must needs be rooted in one’s breast—it is idle to deny it,’ said Masthlion, sick at heart. ‘Will Caesar deign to say in what respect my work has met with disapproval?’ ‘Its bad effect upon a more important industry.’ ‘One industry can scarce injure another, when both are useful. To my own poor thoughts they would rather tend to mutual good.’ ‘Older and wiser heads than yours think differently. Your views are prejudiced and circumscribed by the narrow limits of your own particular work—it will be necessary for your secret to remain undivulged.’ ‘And yet there is no one living who would not seek the benefit of my glass—is it possible, then, for such a thing to be hurtful?’ muttered Masthlion in the keen bitterness of his soul. ‘’Tis strange, to say the least of it,’ said Plautia; ‘but courage—it will be approved—some day you will become famous.’ Tiberius smiled coldly. Seeing Masthlion about to speak again, he shot him a warning glance and raised his finger.