The Argosy — page 73: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

60 NERO AS A MUSICIAN. N the tower of Mzcenas, when Rome was burning, in the first century of our era, might have been seen a young man, dressed in the costume of a Grecian rhapsodist, reclining on the velvet cushions of a luxurious throne. A garland of olive leaves is round his brow, and he holds a lyre on his knee, as he gazes dreamily on the awful conflagration that rages beneath him. By his side stands a phonascus, or ‘‘ voice-trainer,” whose special duty it is to guard the emperor’s voice from harm; who sniffs the air to see if a chill is in the sky, and every now and then applies a handkerchief that he holds in his hand to wipe the perspiration trom his patron’s lips. Not far away, among the attendants at the back, stands the second officer of the royal music, the keeper of the Imperial Lyre, whose task it is to search the marts of Europe and Asia for the best materials for strings, the best wood for frame and sounding-board, and to preserve with the nicest exactitude the royal instrument in tune. “Terpuus,” cries the rhapsodist, turning to the trainer at his side, ‘‘is inspiration given by surroundings, or does it come, think you, by chance—sent from Parnassus, whenever the gods have a mind to make men happy? I used to think the latter theory true. But now, nay, for months past, I have altered my belief, and find myself able to conjure up the divine enthusiasm, by wresting circum- stances to feed my fancies. Was it for mere caprice that I caused this city to be set ablaze? Nay, do not think so. Twas to send surging up in my brain a flood of fine thoughts, which are cheap at the price of twice this devastation. Listen to the song I shall sing you, for I affirm that its sublime inspiration is worth twenty burning Romes.” With that, Nero runs his fingers over his lyre, and bursts into an impassioned rhapsody on the ruin of the city. When he had ended, and after worlds of compliment from all assembled: ‘‘Sire,” says his voice-trainer, as if in a very ecstasy of fear, “‘ your voice will suffer if you tax it more. Your assumption of the part of Orestes this morning at the theatre was a great strain upon you, considering the delicate state of your throat at present; and surely you will not, by excess of enthusiasm, impair even in a slight degree that beautiful voice, which all the world delights to hear.” ‘You are right, Terpuus,” replies Nero. ‘‘ We will give over sing- ing for the afternoon ; and but for a brief rehearsal of the part we are to sustain at the banquet this evening, no more will we do for some hours. Let me see; what was the part?—twas—’twas - “Your Majesty has forgotten,” replied the trainer. ‘ You yourself CONNICOOOKSACORMN