"Thou alone of all thought of this,—thou alone, O Petronius! thou alone!"
Tigellinus grew yellow from envy; but Petronius continued,—
"Go to Antium! there she came to the world, there joy flowed in on thee, there solace will come to thee. Let the sea air freshen thy divine throat; let thy breast breathe the salt dampness. We, thy devoted ones, will follow thee everywhere; and when we assuage thy pain with friendship, thou wilt comfort us with song.
"True!" answered Nero, sadly, "I will write a hymn in her honor, and compose music for it."