The Corinthian looked for a moment into his cup, moving it slowly about on the marble slab of the little table at his side, between an oyster pasty and a dish of fresh asparagus; and then he said, glancing round to win the suffrages of the company: “At the great procession which took place under Ptolemy Philadelphus--Agatharchides gave me the description of it, written by the eye-witness Kallixenus, to read only yesterday--all kinds of scenes from the lives of the gods were represented before the people. Suppose we were to remain in this magnificent palace, and to represent ourselves the beautiful groups which the great artists of the past have produced in painting or sculpture; but let us choose those only that are least known.” “Splendid,” cried Cleopatra in great excitement, “who can be more like Heracles than my mighty brother there--the very son of Alcmene, as Lysippus has conceived and represented him? Let us then represent the life of Heracles from grand models, and in every case assign to Euergetes the part of the hero.” “Oh! I will undertake it,” said the young king, feeling the mighty muscles of his breast and arms, “and you may give me great credit for assuming the part, for the demi-god who strangled the snakes was lacking in the most important point, and it was not without due consideration that Lysippus represented him with a small head on his mighty body; but I shall not have to say anything.” “If I play Omphale will you sit at my feet?” asked Cleopatra. “Who would not be willing to sit at those feet?” answered Euergetes. “Let us at once make further choice among the abundance of subjects offered to us, but, like Lysias, I would warn you against those that are too well-known.” “There are no doubt things commonplace to the eye as well as to the ear,” said Cleopatra. “But what is recognized as good is commonly regarded as most beautiful.” “Permit me,” said Lysias, “to direct your attention to a piece of sculpture in marble of the noblest workmanship, which is both old and beautiful, and yet which may be known to few among you. It exists on the cistern of my father’s house at Corinth, and was executed many centuries since by a great artist of the Peloponnesus. Publius was delighted with the work, and it is in fact beautiful beyond description. It is an exquisite representation of the marriage of Heracles and Hebe--of the hero, raised to divinity, with sempiternal youth. Will Your Majesty allow yourself to be led by Pallas Athene and your mother Alcmene to your nuptials with Hebe?” “Why not?” said Euergetes. “Only the Hebe must be beautiful. But one thing must be considered; how are we to get the cistern from your father’s house at Corinth to this place by to-morrow or next day? Such a group cannot be posed from memory without the original to guide us; and though the story runs that the statue of Serapis flew from Sinope to Alexandria, and though there are magicians still at Memphis--”