“But what have we here?  Heavens! the town is swarming with wild beasts!  How terrible a spectacle! —­ how dangerous a peculiarity!”

Terrible, if you please; but not in the least degree dangerous.  Each animal if you will take the pains to observe, is following, very quietly, in the wake of its master.  Some few, to be sure, are led with a rope about the neck, but these are chiefly the lesser or timid species.  The lion, the tiger, and the leopard are entirely without restraint.  They have been trained without difficulty to their present profession, and attend upon their respective owners in the capacity of valets-de-chambre.  It is true, there are occasions when Nature asserts her violated dominions; —­ but then the devouring of a man-at-arms, or the throttling of a consecrated bull, is a circumstance of too little moment to be more than hinted at in Epidaphne.

“But what extraordinary tumult do I hear?  Surely this is a loud noise even for Antioch!  It argues some commotion of unusual interest.”

Yes —­ undoubtedly.  The king has ordered some novel spectacle —­ some gladiatorial exhibition at the hippodrome —­ or perhaps the massacre of the Scythian prisoners —­ or the conflagration of his new palace —­ or the tearing down of a handsome temple —­ or, indeed, a bonfire of a few Jews.  The uproar increases.  Shouts of laughter ascend the skies.  The air becomes dissonant with wind instruments, and horrible with clamor of a million throats.  Let us descend, for the love of fun, and see what is going on!  This way —­ be careful!  Here we are in the principal street, which is called the street of Timarchus.  The sea of people is coming this way, and we shall find a difficulty in stemming the tide.  They are pouring through the alley of Heraclides, which leads directly from the palace; —­ therefore the king is most probably among the rioters.  Yes; —­ I hear the shouts of the herald proclaiming his approach in the pompous phraseology of the East.  We shall have a glimpse of his person as he passes by the temple of Ashimah.  Let us ensconce ourselves in the vestibule of the sanctuary; he will be here anon.  In the meantime let us survey this image.  What is it?  Oh! it is the god Ashimah in proper person.  You perceive, however, that he is neither a lamb, nor a goat, nor a satyr, neither has he much resemblance to the Pan of the Arcadians.  Yet all these appearances have been given —­ I beg pardon —­ will be given —­ by the learned of future ages, to the Ashimah of the Syrians.  Put on your spectacles, and tell me what it is.  What is it?

“Bless me! it is an ape!”

True —­ a baboon; but by no means the less a deity.  His name is a derivation of the Greek Simia —­ what great fools are antiquarians!  But see! —­ see! —­ yonder scampers a ragged little urchin.  Where is he going?  What is he bawling about?  What does he say?  Oh! he says the king is coming in triumph; that he is dressed in state; that he has just finished putting to death, with his own hand, a thousand chained Israelitish prisoners!  For this exploit the ragamuffin is lauding him to the skies.  Hark! here comes a troop of a similar description.  They have made a Latin hymn upon the valor of the king, and are singing it as they go: