It is to be regretted that history has preserved only the tradition of this remarkable production of Apicius’ kitchen, the fame of which subsequently filled aristocratic circles. Further than relating that the foundation of the dish was the carcase of a small unknown animal, captured in the limits of the empire, and brought home by a recently arrived ship, all details are wanting. Gradually, after this interesting incident, the guests, languidly, fell more at their ease on their cushions, with laden stomachs and appeased appetites. Beyond nibbling furtively at sweet dainties and fruits, there was only inclination left to sip at the precious wine, and to employ their tongues and laugh at each other’s wit. But from this stage Apicius himself relapsed once more into his former fit of silent, unconscious abstraction. The minutes gathered into hours, and chatter and jest flew uninterruptedly around. Only at times the host was roused by the jesting challenges of his guests, rallying him on the subject of his absorbed reflections. Among the numerous glorious entertainments of Apicius this, the guests admitted to each other in many an aside, was the most perfect Rome had yet known. And yet, instead of being blithe and jocund with success, the hospitable entertainer reclined with melancholy, fixed eyes—opening his lips only to sip his wine from time to time. This could not fail to have an effect eventually, for what ought to have been the inspiration of their conviviality was cold, fireless, and mute. They struggled on for some time, but, at length, their cheerfulness sank beneath the chilling influence of those fixed, sad, downcast eyes and heedless ears. A social meeting largely takes its tone from its leader, and when the conversation became slower and more fitful, Afer exchanged glances with Sejanus and Flaccus with Charinus. Meaning looks went round from each to each to the seemingly unconscious Apicius, and from Apicius back to each other. Zoilus had no love or good‐feeling to detain him. More or less discomfited and snubbed, he waited no longer, kicking against the pricks, but seized the opportunity and began to rise, briefly hinting that his absence was necessary. ‘Stay!’ said Apicius, suddenly starting, as if from a dream, at hearing these words spoken in his ear. ‘Stay yet for a few moments, Zoilus. I—I implore your pardon, friends, for I see I have fallen a prey to my reflections and forgotten you. It was behaviour unworthy even of a barbarian—I pray you give me your indulgence!’ ‘Nay, noble Apicius, every one is liable to be overridden by his thoughts,’ said Sejanus. ‘True, and I will forthwith give you the clue to mine,’ was the reply. ‘Ha! we will, therefore, begin again,’ quoth Pansa, in thick tones, holding up his empty goblet for his slave to refill. They all laughed, and then bent their eyes on the face of Apicius with renewed interest.