“And no wonder,” retorted another. “Wealth and good fortune are poured into his lap! His whole life is sunshine. Even the affairs of state hardly trouble him at all; he has no ambitions--no fears--no anxieties. He plucks the present[87]--_carpe diem_, as Horace sings, and never for an instant troubles himself about the future. Who would not change with him!” FOOTNOTES: [81] SAVO. Now Savona on the Riviera. [82] ALBIUM INGAUNUM. The modern Albenga, south-west of Savona. [83] IT WOULD SAIL STRAIGHT TO GAUL TO MEET YOUR SISTERS IN BEAUTY. The women of Marseilles, and especially those belonging to the neighboring city of Arles, are distinguished even at the present day for a beauty resembling the type of the Hellenic ideal of feminine loveliness. [84] A SHOWER OF ROSE-SCENTED SPRAY. This delicious method of cooling the air, which was by no means rare in wealthy and noble houses, was called _sparsio_ (sprinkling). In theatres, etc. the spectators, on particularly hot days, were cooled by such _sparsiones_. [85] PAPHOS (Πάφος more accurately Παλαίπαφος, Old Paphos, to distinguish it from Πάφος νέα New Paphos) a city of Cyprus, the principal seat of the worship of Aphrodite. Here the foam-born goddess was said to have risen from the sea. See Hor. _Od._ I, 36: III, 28 etc. [86] QUOTED THE FAMOUS LINE OF CATULLUS. See Cat. V, I: _Vivamus, mea Lesbia, atque amemus!_ [87] HE PLUCKS THE PRESENT. See Hor. _Od._ I, ii, 8. The expression “he enjoys the present day” is a literal translation of the “_carpe diem_” used there--just as the phrase: “without troubling himself about the future” corresponds with Horace's “_quam minimum credula postero_.” CHAPTER XI. It was during the night following on the evening, which the guests of Parthenius spent in dissipation, that the fearful catastrophe took place of which the reader is already informed. Quintus Claudius and the whole congregation of Nazarenes were discovered and seized in the catacomb between the Via Appia and the Via Labicana. We left our hero at the moment, when the procession of prisoners was setting out Rome-wards. It was a long and melancholy march through the solitude and gloom. No one spoke a word; only a suppressed sob or a groan of anguish now and then broke the oppressive silence. With what emotion did Quintus cross the bridge over the Almo, which he had walked over once before, that night when he had rescued Eurymachus. He did his best to banish all memories, all fears--nay, all hopes--and to fix his mind unswervingly on one thought alone: that his life and fate were in the hands of God.