he ran up, all sleek from the bath, and said: “What’s this? Gods, among men?” “Hurry up,” said Mercury, “and announce that we are coming.” In less time than it takes to tell it, Narcissus skipped out. All the way being down hill, the descent was easy. And so, in spite of his gout, he came in twinkling to Pluto’s door, where lay Cerberus, or as Horace says, “the beast with the hundred heads.” Narcissus was a trifle scared—he had been accustomed to have a white dog as a pet—when he saw that huge, hairy black dog, which, on my word, is one that you wouldn’t like to meet in the dark. And with a loud voice he said, “Claudius is coming.” Then a crowd began to come forward with clapping of hands and chanting: “We have got him; let us rejoice!” Among them were C. Silius the consul-elect, Iuncus the ex-praetor, Sextus Traulus, M. Helvius, Trogus, Cotta, Vettius Valens, and Fabius, Roman knights whom Narcissus had ordered to execution. In the middle of this company of singers was Mnester the dancer, whom Claudius had made shorter for the sake of appearances. To Messalina—the report that Claudius had come quickly spread—they gathered; first of all, the freedmen Polybius, Myron, Harpocras, Amphaeus, and Pheronactus, all of whom Claudius had sent ahead in order that he might not be anywhere unprepared; then the two prefects Justus Catonius and Rufrius Pollio; then the Emperor’s friends Saturnius Lusius and Pedo Pompeius and
