THE LAST DAYS OF POMPEII
by Edward George Bulwer-Lytton
BOOK THE FIRST
Chapter I
THE TWO GENTLEMEN OF POMPEII.
'HO, Diomed, well met! Do you sup with Glaucus to-night?' said a young man
of small stature, who wore his tunic in those loose and effeminate folds
which proved him to be a gentleman and a coxcomb.
'Alas, no! dear Clodius; he has not invited me,' replied Diomed, a man of
portly frame and of middle age. 'By Pollux, a scurvy trick! for they say
his suppers are the best in Pompeii'.
'Pretty well--though there is never enough of wine for me. It is not the
old Greek blood that flows in his veins, for he pretends that wine makes him
dull the next morning.'
'There may be another reason for that thrift,' said Diomed, raising his
brows. 'With all his conceit and extravagance he is not so rich, I fancy,
as he affects to be, and perhaps loves to save his amphorae better than his
wit.'
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