One day he was sitting with his paramour, and chatting quietly at his ease: “You think, then, Timandra, that Cyrus marches against his brother Artaxerxes, in order to seize the throne of Persia.” “I am sure of it, and equally sure that he has ten thousand Athenians under Xenophon with him.” “Do you know whether Artaxerxes has been warned?” “Yes, I know it.” “Who could have warned him?” “You did.” “Does Cyrus know that?” “Yes, he does.” “Who has betrayed me?” “I did.” “Then I am lost.” “Yes, you are.” “To think that I must fall through a woman!” “Did you expect anything else, Alcibiades?” “No, not really! Can I not fly?” “You cannot, but I can.” “I see smoke! Is the house on fire?” “Yes, it is. And there are archers posted outside!” “The comedy is over! We return to tragedy....” “And the satyr-play begins.” “My feet are hot; generally cold is a precursor of death.” “Everything is born from its opposite, Alcibiades.” “Give me a kiss.” She kissed him, the handsomest man of Athens. “Thank you!” “Go to the window; there you will see!” Alcibiades stepped to the window. “Now I see.” At that moment he was struck by an arrow. “But now I see nothing! It grows dark, and I thought it would grow light.” Timandra fled, as the corpse began to burn. SOCRATES Sparta had conquered Athens, and Athens lay in ruins. The government by the people was over, and the rule of the Thirty Tyrants had succeeded it. Socrates and Euripides walked with sad faces among the ruins on the Agora. Socrates spoke: “We are on the ruins of Athens’ walls! We have become Spartans. We would have no tyrants, and now thirty rule over us.” “I go to the North,” said Euripides, “to Macedonia, whither I am invited.” “In that you are right, for the Tyrants have forbidden the acting of your tragedies.” “That is true.” “And they have forbidden me to teach.” “Have they forbidden Socrates to speak? No! Then he can teach, for he cannot speak without teaching. But they must have forbidden the oracles to speak, for they have ceased to prophesy. Everything has ceased! Hellas has ceased to be! And why?” “You may well ask. Has Zeus begotten the son who is to overthrow him, as Aeschylus foretold?” “Who knows? The people have introduced a new God called Adonai or Adonis. He is from the East, and his name signifies the Lord.” “Who is the new god?” “He teaches readiness for death, and the resurrection. And they have also got a new goddess. Have you heard of Cybele, the mother of the gods, a virgin, who is worshipped in Rome like Vesta by vestal priests.” “There is so much that is new and obscure, like wine in fermentation. There comes Aristophanes. Farewell, my friend, for the last time here in life.” “Wait! Aristophanes beckons! No, see! he weeps! Aristophanes weeps!” Aristophanes approached. “Euripides,” he said, “don’t go till I have spoken to you.” “Can you speak?” answered Euripides. “I weep.” “Do not quit your role. Shall that represent tears?”