"But that you may not imagine I disapprove of satirical impromptus in the Lucilian vein, I will myself throw my notions on this matter into verse: "He that would be an orator, must strive To follow out the discipline of old, And heed the laws of stern frugality; Not his to haunt the Court with fawning brow, Nor sit a flatterer at great folks' boards; Not his with boon companions o'er the wine To overcloud his brain, nor at the play To sit and clap, agape at actors' tricks.
   But whether to Tritonia's famous halls The Muses lead his steps, or to those walls That Spartan exiles rear'd or where The Sirens' song thrill'd the enraptured air Of all his tasks let Poesy be first, And Homer's verse the fount to quench his thirst. Soon will be master deep Socratic lore, And wield the arms Demosthenes erst bore. Then to new modes must he in turn be led, And Grecian wit to Roman accents wed. Nor in the forum only will he find Meet occupation for his busy mind; On books he'll feast, the poet's words of fire, Heroic tales of War and Tully's patriot ire, Such be thy studies; then, whate'er the theme, Pour forth thine eloquence in copious stream." Listening attentively to the speaker, I never noticed that Ascyltos had given me the slip; and I was still walking up and down in the gardens full of the burning words I had heard, when a great mob of students rushed into the Portico.