"Ah! my Quintus," she said, "you are still very young, and it is easy for one like you to enlist with all your ardour in a cause that seems righteous; yes, and in the heat of the moment to make any sacrifice for it; but it is not so easy for you or any other man calmly to face shame and annihilation, when the actual shadow of danger can be seen creeping up hour by hour.

I know that neither you nor many another man wise and good believes that there are any gods.

And I--I am only a silly old woman, with little or no wisdom and wit--" "Not silly and not old, carissima!" interrupted Drusus, smiling at her self-depreciation.
"We won't argue," said Fabia, in a bit lighter vein.

"But--as I would say--I believe in gods, and that they order all things well." "Why, then," protested the young man, "do we suffer wrong or grief?
If gods there are, they are indifferent; or, far worse, malevolent, who love to work us woe." Again Fabia shook her head.
"If we were gods," said she, "we would all be wise, and could see the good to come out of every seeming evil.

There! I am, as I said, silly and old, and little enough comfort can words of mine bring a bright young man whose head is crammed with all the learned lore of the schools of Athens.