“Certainly,” added the older actor, patting his smooth cheeks and chin with a rose he held in his hand.  Who can defend himself against the highest merit, self-knowledge?  But the person who is to have this reception, by the staff of Dionysus! if modesty flies away from him like the bird from a girl, it ought Just look there!  The tall, broad-shouldered fellow yonder is Chrysippus, the right hand of Arsinoe, as our grammateus Proclus is her left.  So probably some prince is expected.”

“The gentlemen of the Museum and the great artists yonder would not stir a foot, far less lose so precious a morning hour, for any mere wearer of a crown or sceptre,” protested the other actor; “it must be—­”

“That the King or the Queen command it,” interrupted the older player.  “Only Arsinoe is represented here.  Or do you see any envoy of Ptolemy?  Perhaps they will yet arrive.  If there were ambassadors of the great Roman Senate—­”

“Or,” added the dancer, “envoys from King Antiochus.  But—­goose that I am!—­then they would not be received here, but in the royal harbour at the Lochias.  See if I don’t prove to be right!  Divine honours are to be paid to some newly attracted hero of the intellect.  But—­just follow my finger!  There—­yonder—­it comes floating along at the left of the island of Antirrhodus.  That may be his galley!  Magnificent!  Wonderfully beautiful!  Brilliant!  Like a swan!  No, no, like a swimming peacock!  And the silver embroidery on the blue sails!  It glitters and sparkles like stars in the azure sky.”

Meanwhile the elder actor, shading his eyes with his hand, had been gazing at the harbour, where, amid the innumerable vessels, the expected one, whose sails were just being reefed, was steered by a skilful hand.  Now he interrupted the blond beauty with the exclamation:  “It is Archias’s Proserpina!  I know it well.”  Then, in a declamatory tone, he continued:  “I, too, was permitted on the deck of the glittering vessel, lightly rocked by the crimson waves, to reach my welcome goal; as the guest of peerless Archias, I mean.  The most magnificent festival in his villa!  There was a little performance there in which Mentor and I allowed ourselves to be persuaded to take part.  But just see how the beautiful ship uses the narrow passage between the two triremes, as if it had the bloodleech’s power of contraction!  But to return to the festival of Archias:  the oyster ragout served there, the pheasant pasties—­”

Here he interrupted himself, exclaiming in surprise:  “By the club of Hercules, the Proserpina is to be received with a full chorus!  And there is the owner himself descending the stairs!  Whom is she bringing?”

“Come! come!” cried the dancing girl to her companion, dragging him after her, “I shall die of curiosity.”

The singing and shouting of many voices greeted the actors as they approached the platform of the Temple of Poseidon.

When from this spot the dancer fixed her eyes upon the landing place, she suddenly dropped her companion’s arm, exclaiming:  “It is the handsome blind sculptor, Hermon, the heir of the wealthy Myrtilus.  Do you learn this now for the first time, you jealous Thersites?  Hail, hail, divine Hermon!  Hail, noble victim of the ungrateful Olympians!  Hail to thee, Hermon, and thy immortal works!  Hail, hail, hail!”