A few steps further on Mousarion found an acceptable offer, if not as generous an one. Tryphera returned to the quay alone. As the hour was advanced, the crowd had become less compact. But the three musicians were still singing and playing the flute. Catching sight of a stranger whose clothes and rotundity were slightly ridiculous, Tryphera tapped him on the shoulder. “I say! Papa! I wager that you are not an Alexandrian, eh?” “No indeed, my girl,” answered the honest fellow. “And you have guessed rightly. I am quite astounded at the town and the people.” “You are from Boubastis?” “No. From Cabasa. I came here to sell grain, and I am going back again to-morrow, richer by fifty-two minæ. Thanks be to the gods! it has been a good year.” Tryphera suddenly began to take an great interest in this merchant. “My child,” he resumed timidly, “you can give me a great joy. I don’t want to return to Cabasa to-morrow without being able to tell my wife and three daughters that I have seen some celebrated men, You probably know some celebrated men?” “Some few,” she said, laughing. “Good. Name them to me when they pass. I am sure that during the last two days I have met the most influential functionaries. I am in despair at not knowing them by sight.” ill-007 “You shall have your wish. This is Naucrates.” “Who is Naucrates?” “A philosopher.” “And what does he teach?” “Silence.” “By Zeus, that is a doctrine that does not require much genius, and this philosopher does not please me at all.” “That is Phrasilas.” “Who is Phrasilas?” “A fool.” “Then why do you mention him?” “Because others consider him to be eminent.” “And what does he say?” “He says everything with a smile, and that enables him to pass off his errors as international and common-places as subtile. He has all the advantage. People have allowed themselves to be duped.” “All this is beyond me, and I don’t quite understand. Besides, the face of this Phrasilas is marked by hypocrisy.” “This is Philodemos.” “The strategist?” “No. A Latin poet who writes in Greek.” “My dear, he is an enemy. I am sorry to have seen him.” At this point a flutter of excitement ran through the crowd and a murmur of voices pronounced the same name: “Demetrios . . . Demetrios . . .” Tryphera mounted upon a street post, and she too said to the merchant: “Demetrios . . . That is Demetrios. You were anxious to see celebrated men.” ill-008 _Tryphera mounted upon a street post._ “Demetrios? the Queen’s lover? Is it possible?” “Yes, you are in luck. He never leaves his house. This is the first time I have seen him on the quay since I have been at Alexandria.” “Where is he?” “That’s he, bending over to look at the harbour.” “There are two men leaning over.” “It is the one in blue.” “I cannot see him very well. His back is turned to me.” “Know you not? he is the sculptor to whom the queen offered herself for a model when he carved the Aphrodite in the temple.”