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"We are all grateful to you," said Lachares, laughing. "Hail, Polyanthus; may Neptune favor you!" The two riders set off at a gallop, becoming lost to view among the hovels grouped around the base of the temple of Aphrodite. Meanwhile one of the ship's passengers landed, making his way through the crowd. He was a Greek.
Sónnica's friends, the young gallants, who, even on this extraordinary occasion had not forgotten to paint their faces, followed and admired him, ordering the crowd, to give them passage. "Hail, Theron!" shouted Lachares. "We will see what Hannibal will do when he meets you in battle."
Lachares and his elegant friends proposed to contest for the prize in singing, and their effeminate hands, slender and beringed, moved nervously over the table as if already thrumming the lyre, while their painted lips sang Homeric verses in subdued tones.
Several times the flutists changed the tune and measure, but at the end of an hour the guests became bored. "We are used to all this," protested Lachares; "they are the same flutists who always play at your banquets, Sónnica. Since you have fallen in love you forget your friends. Give us something else! Let us see the dancers!" "Yes, let the dancing girls come!" chorused the young men.
He reinforced these cities with sufficient garrisons to enable them to make a defense against Seleucus; and, receiving information that Lachares, taking the opportunity of their civil dissensions, had set up himself as an usurper over the Athenians, he imagined that if he made a sudden attempt upon the city, he might now without difficulty get possession of it.
The two old men flung their tunics around her, while her malicious, boyish face peeped forth and sniffed the foods and sweetmeats. "But, Sónnica," protested Lachares, "when did the beautiful Greek ever forget her friends like this? Athenian, you have maddened her with your love; now intercede for us, and ask that the daughters of Gades present themselves quickly!"
Turning to the steward he said loftily: "Brother, now that you see that I get in anyhow, try to wield a less heavy hand in future." Accompanied by the laughter of the guests he rubbed his forehead on which a lump had begun to rise, and with a corner of his time-worn mantle he wiped off a few drops of blood close to one ear. "Greeting, lousy one!" the gallant Lachares called to him.
"Lachares," said the philosopher to his aristocratic enemy, "why have you and your companions not brought your beautiful slave boys who serve you as supports in the Forum?" "Sónnica will not allow it," replied the young gallant, pleased at the question, not suspecting the irony in Euphobias' words.
Actæon mingled with the starving crowd searching for Sónnica. He found her surrounded by Lachares and the young gallants. Near them stood Euphobias, smiling at Sónnica, but not venturing to approach. "The gods have protected you on your journey, Actæon," said the parasite. "You look better than we who have remained in the city. One can plainly see that you have fed."
Actæon recognized Euphobias the philosopher in the crowd, his garments more ragged than ever, almost naked, but with an appearance of relative vigor which contrasted strangely with the starving appearance of the majority. Lachares and the elegant young friends of Sónnica bowed to him from a distance with a distraught expression.
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