[Sybaris was a town in Lower Italy notorious throughout the ancient world for its luxury.  According to Strabo it was founded by Achaeans 262.  About 510 it was conquered and destroyed by the Crotoniates and then rebuilt under the name of Thurii.]

Rhodopis had a kind word for each of her guests, but at present she occupied herself exclusively with the two celebrated Sarnians; their talk was of art and poetry.  The fire of youth still glowed in the eyes of the Thracian woman, her tall figure was still full and unbent; her hair, though grey, was wound round her beautifully formed head in luxuriant waves, and laid together at the back in a golden net, and a sparkling diadem shone above her lofty forehead.

Her noble Greek features were pale, but still beautiful and without a wrinkle, notwithstanding her great age; indeed her small mouth with its full lips, her white teeth, her eyes so bright and yet so soft, and her nobly-formed nose and forehead would have been beauty enough for a young maiden.

Rhodopis looked younger than she really was, though she made no attempt to disavow her age.  Matronly dignity was visible in every movement, and the charm of her manner lay, not in a youthful endeavor to be pleasing, but in the effort of age to please others, considering their wishes, and at the same time demanding consideration in return.

Our two friends now presenting themselves in the hall, every eye turned upon them, and as Phanes entered leading his friend by the hand, the heartiest welcome met him from all sides; one of the Milesians indeed exclaimed:  “Now I see what it is that was wanting to our assembly.  There can be no merriment without Phanes.”

And Philoinus, the Sybarite, raising his deep voice, but not allowing himself for a moment to be disturbed in his repose, remarked:  “Mirth is a good thing, and if you bring that with you, be welcome to me also, Athenian.”

“To me,” said Rhodopis, turning to her new guests, “you are heartily welcome, but not more in your joy than if borne down by sadness.  I know no greater pleasure than to remove the lines of care from a friend’s brow.  Spartan, I venture to address you as a friend too, for the friends of my friends are my own.”  Aristomachus bowed in silence, but Phanes, addressing himself both to Rhodopis and to the Sybarite, answered:  “Well then, my friends, I can content you both.  To you, Rhodopis, I must come for comfort, for soon, too soon I must leave you and your pleasant house; Philoinus however can still enjoy my mirth, as I cannot but rejoice in the prospect of seeing my beloved Hellas once more, and of quitting, even though involuntarily, this golden mouse-trap of a country.”

“You are going away! you have been dismissed?  Whither are you going?” echoed on all sides.

“Patience, patience, my friends,” cried Phanes.  “I have a long story to tell, but I will rather reserve it for the evening meal.  And indeed, dear friend, my hunger is nearly as great as my distress at being obliged to leave you.”