would expose them, had raised objections, and she at last had seemed to yield.  When Alexander joined her he had found her in a splendid dress of shining purple brocade, her black hair crowned with a wreath of roses, and a splendid diadem; a garland of roses hung across her bosom, and precious stones sparkled round her throat and arms.  In short, she was arrayed like a happy mother for her daughter’s wedding-day.

Soon after Alexander’s arrival Seleukus had come in, and this conspicuously handsome dress, so unbecoming to the matron’s age, and so unlike her usual attire-chosen, evidently, to put the monstrosity of Caesar’s demand in the strongest light—­had roused her husband’s wrath.  He had expressed his dissatisfaction in strong terms, and again pointed out to her the danger in which such a daring demonstration might involve them; but this time there was no moving the lady; she would not despoil herself of a single rose.  After she had solemnly declared that she would appear in the Circus either as she thought fit or not at all, her husband had left her in anger.

“What a fool she is!” Euryale exclaimed.

Then she showed him a white robe of beautiful bombyx, woven in the isle of Kos, which she had decided on for Melissa, and a peplos with a border of tender sea-green; and Alexander approved of the choice.

Time pressed, and Euryale went at once to Melissa with the new festal raiment.  Once more she nodded kindly to the girl, and begged her, as she herself had something to discuss with Alexander, to allow the waiting-woman to dress her.  She felt as if she were bringing the robe to a condemned creature, in which she was to be led to execution, and Melissa felt the same.

Euryale then returned to the painter, and bade him end his narrative.

The lady Berenike had forthwith desired Johanna to pack together all the dead Korinna’s festal dresses.  Alexander had then followed her guidance, accompanying her to a court in the slaves’ quarters, where a number of men were awaiting her.  These were the captains of Seleukus’s ships, which were now in port, and the superintendents of his granaries and offices, altogether above a hundred freedmen in the merchant’s service.  Each one seemed to know what he was here for.

The matron responded to their hearty greetings with a word of thanks, and added, bitterly: 

“You see before you a mourning mother whom a ruthless tyrant compels to go to a festival thus—­thus—­only look at me—­bedizened like a peacock!”

At this the bearded assembly gave loud expression to their dissatisfaction, but Berenike went on “Melapompus has taken care to secure good places; but he has wisely not taken them all together.  You are all free men; I have no orders to give you.  But, if you are indeed indignant at the scorn and heart-ache inflicted on your lord’s wife, make it known in the Circus to him who has brought them on her.  You are all past your first youth, and will carefully avoid any rashness which may involve you in ruin.  May the avenging gods aid and protect you!”