P.  “Our Lady! (Persephone) The child takes notice!”

Then the visitor to comfort the child says “Nice papa,” and the conversation proceeds.  The two talk about their husbands, about their dresses, about the cost of things in the shops; but in order to see the festival Praxinoe must dress herself quickly, and woman, two thousand years ago, just as now, takes a long time to dress.  Hear Praxinoe talking to her maid-servant while she hurries to get ready: 

“Eunoe, bring the water and put it down in the middle of the room,—­lazy creature that you are.  Cat-like, always trying to sleep soft!  Come, bustle, bring the water; quicker!  I want water first,—­and how she carries it!  Give it me all the same;—­don’t pour out so much, you extravagant thing!  Stupid girl!  Why are you wetting my dress?  There, stop, I have washed my hands as heaven would have it.  Where is the key of the big chest?  Bring it here.”

This is life, natural and true; we can see those three together, the girlish young wife hurrying and scolding and chattering naturally and half childishly, the patient servant girl smiling at the hurry of her mistress, and the visitor looking at her friend’s new dress, wondering how much it cost and presently asking her the price.  At last all is ready.  But the little boy sees his mother go out and he wants to go out too, though it has been decided not to take him, because the crowd is too rough and he might be hurt.  Here the mother first explains, then speaks firmly: 

“No, child, I don’t mean to take you.  Boo!  Bogies!  There is a horse that bites!  Cry as much as you please, but I cannot have you maimed.”

They go out, Praxinoe and Gorgo and the maid-servant Eunoe.  The crowd is tremendous, and they find it very hard to advance.  Sometimes there are horses in the way, sometimes wagons, occasionally a legion of cavalry.  We know all this, because we hear the chatter of the women as they make their way through the press.

“Give me your hand, and you, Eunoe, catch hold of Eutychis,—­for fear lest you get lost....  Here come the kings on horses!  My dear man, don’t trample on me.  Eunoe, you fool-hardy girl, will you never keep out of the way?  Oh!  How tiresome, Gorgo, my muslin veil is torn in two already....  For heaven’s sake, sir, if you ever wish to be fortunate, take care of my shawl!”

STRANGER.  “I can hardly help myself, but for all that I will be as helpful as I can.”

The strange man helps the women and children through the pushing crowd, and they thank him very prettily, praying that he may have good fortune all his life.  But not all the strangers who come in contact with them happen to be so kind.  They come at last into that part of the temple ground where the image of Adonis is displayed; the beauty of the statue moves them, and they utter exclamations of delight.  This does not please some of the male spectators, one of whom exclaims, “You tiresome women, do cease your endless cooing talk!  They bore one to death with their eternal broad vowels!”