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Updated: May 6, 2025
Hermione had not exchanged a word with Democrates since that day she cast scorn on him on that other hill slope at Munychia, but this did not make his intrusion more welcome. With mortification she realized that she had forgotten herself. That she lay on the sunny bank with her feet outstretched and her hair shaken loose on her shoulders. Her feet she instantly covered with her long himation.
The young man my Lord hates was bound and gagged almost ere he could waken, likewise the fishmonger was seized.” “Bravely done. I never forget good service. And the woman?” “She is retained likewise. I have hastened hither to learn the further will of my Lord.” Democrates arose hastily. “My himation, staff, and shoes, boy!” he ordered. “I will go forth myself.
"What was the name of the young man who purchased you, eh?" interpolated Pisander. "I didn't get it." "Quintus Livius Drusus," replied Agias. "Who?" cried the philosopher, starting up. "Quintus Drusus, of Præneste," repeated the other. "Ai! Ai! In the name of Zeus!" cried Pisander, dropping the beaker, and spilling the wine all over his threadbare himation. "Oh, such a plot! Such a crime!
Astolos chiton, the under garment, frock, or tunic, without anything, either himation or peplus, over it. The Romans, on the other hand, gave their daughters in marriage as early as twelve years old, or even under; thus they thought their bodies alike and minds would be delivered to the future husband pure and undefiled.
“At least he has a visitor,” asserted Clearchus, who had long been silent. “See, a gentleman wrapped in a long himation is going up to the door and standing up his walking stick.” “And if I have eyes,” vowed the juror, squinting through his hands in the half light, “that closely wrapped man is Glaucon the Alcmæonid.” “Or Democrates,” remarked Clearchus; “they look much alike from behind.
Themistocles touched a bronze gong; a marine adjutant entered. “My pinnace,” ordered the admiral. As the man went out, Themistocles took a long himation from the locker and wrapped it around the newcomer. “Since even Simonides and I did not recognize you in your long beard, I doubt if you are in danger of detection to-night. But remember your name is Critias.
Within a day or two Preciosa began to notice the railway trains. Whenever she was detained at a "grade crossing" she caught herself looking at the locomotive to find a lady in a blue himation. Then the telegraph poles began to trouble her; she got into the habit of glancing aloft for nests of Cupids, and once or twice she thought she saw them. Then her father's letter-heads began to affect her.
The street, save for the leaning heads of the women, was deserted. Then suddenly came a change. First a man ran toward the Agora, panting,—his himation blew from his shoulders, he never stopped to recover it.
The door of the dungeon opened and a tall, stately woman entered, slipping a purse of gold into the jailer's hand as he left it ajar behind her. She was clad in a heavy silk himation, fastened on the shoulders by diamond mounted fibulas; a costly anadem confined her wealth of curls, and the golden veil hanging below, in spite of the delicacy of its texture, completely shrouded her features.
A gaunt, elderly man clothed in a very dingy Greek himation, with shaggy grey hair, and an enormous beard that tumbled far down his breast. This personage was Pisander, Valeria's "house-philosopher," who was expected to be always at her elbow pouring into her ears a rain of learned lore. At this moment she was feasting her soul on Plato.
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