That our feast may have the approval of sacred custom, bring hither that one of them most overcome by wine." A din of voices answered, "Here he is, here he is!" And from the floor where he had fallen, a youth was brought forward, so effeminately beautiful he might have passed for the drinking-god himself--only the crown would have dropped from his head, and the thyrsus from his hand.
"Lift him upon the table," the master said.
It was found he could not sit.
"Help him, Drusus, as the fair Nyone may yet help thee." Drusus took the inebriate in his arms.
Then addressing the limp figure, Messala said, amidst profound silence, "O Bacchus! greatest of the gods, be thou propitious to-night.

And for myself, and these thy votaries, I vow this chaplet"-- and from his head he raised it reverently--"I vow this chaplet to thy altar in the Grove of Daphne." He bowed, replaced the crown upon his locks, then stooped and uncovered the dice, saying, with a laugh, "See, my Drusus, by the ass of Silenus, the denarius is mine!" There was a shout that set the floor to quaking, and the grim Atlantes to dancing, and the orgies began..