A broad blunt-ended cargo-boat, rather guided than propelled by its four heavy oars, came drifting down with the current. Its gunwale was hung with horsehair sieves. Up from the thwarts stood many poles, each with cross-pieces, every cross-piece hung with sieves. Its oarsmen edged it nearer and nearer to the Quay and slowed its motion until it was almost stationary opposite the stair, scarcely an arm’s-length from the lowest step. When it was close the Emperor spoke to Numisia: “Choose any sieve you see.” Numisia indicated the sieve on the forward arm of the second cross-piece of the fourth pole from the bow. Lutorius, at the Emperor’s bidding, called the directions to Truttidius, who, bowed and bent with age until he looked almost like a clothed ape, wizened so that his leathery, wrinkled face was like a dried apple, was standing near the middle of the boat. “Go down the steps,” said Commodus to Brinnaria, “and yourself take the sieve from him.” Brinnaria, on the lower step, reached over the water, and grasped the rim of the sieve which Truttidius held out to her. She held it up to the light. Its web was of black and white horse-hair, each thread alternately of a different color. It was made for bolting the finest flour and the tiny apertures between the hairs were all of a size and scarcely broader than the hairs themselves. She scrutinized the sieve from several angles and then looked back at the Emperor. “Are you satisfied with that sieve?” he queried. “I am satisfied with this sieve,” spoke Brinnaria, loud and clear. “I want to see close,” said Commodus, coming down the steps. Brinnaria, holding the sieve in both hands, lifted it towards the blue sky. “O Vesta!” she prayed aloud, “O my dear Goddess, manifest your divinity, succor your votary! To prove me pleasing and acceptable in your eyes, grant me the miraculous power to carry up these stairs water from this river in the sieve which I hold!” She lowered her arms and holding the sieve in her left hand knelt on one knee on the lowest step, spread her towel over the other knee and took from her belt the sacrificial dipper. With that she scooped up half a ladleful of Tiber water. On the towel spread over her knee she carefully dried the bottom of the dipper. Holding it just outside the rim of the sieve she glanced up at Commodus. “Go on,” he said. She smiled. “If you want to see me fail,” she said, “talk to me. If you want to see me carry water in this sieve, let me alone.” “I’m dumb*,” said he. * “Dumb” at this time meant unable to speak. --PG editor She eyed the sieve to make sure that it was level and steady. Commodus, also eyeing it, judged it both steady and level. She brought the ladle over the rim of the sieve and lowered it until it all but touched the middle of the web. She tilted the ladle slowly, slowly she poured its contents over its lip. She lifted it clear: On the web of the sieve lay a silver disk, as it were, of water, round-edged and shining.