Ye gods, what a crowd! How on earth are we ever to get through this coil? They are like ants that no one can measure or number. Many a good deed have you done, Ptolemy; since your father joined the immortals, there’s never a malefactor to spoil the passer-by, creeping on him in Egyptian fashion—oh! the tricks those perfect rascals used to play. Birds of a feather, ill jesters, scoundrels all! Dear Gorgo, what will become of us? Here come the King’s war-horses! My dear man, don’t trample on me. Look, the bay’s rearing, see, what temper! Eunoë, you foolhardy girl, will you never keep out of the way? The beast will kill the man that’s leading him. What a good thing it is for me that my brat stays safe at home. _Gorgo_. Courage, Praxinoë. We are safe behind them, now, and they have gone to their station. _Praxinoë_. There! I begin to be myself again. Ever since I was a child I have feared nothing so much as horses and the chilly snake. Come along, the huge mob is overflowing us. _Gorgo_ (_to an old Woman_). Are you from the Court, mother? _Old Woman_. I am, my child. _Praxinoë_. Is it easy to get there? _Old Woman_. The Achaeans got into Troy by trying, my prettiest of ladies. Trying will do everything in the long run. _Gorgo_. The old wife has spoken her oracles, and off she goes. _Praxinoë_. Women know everything, yes, and how Zeus married Hera! _Gorgo_. See Praxinoë, what a crowd there is about the doors. _Praxinoë_. Monstrous, Gorgo! Give me your hand, and you, Eunoë, catch hold of Eutychis; never lose hold of her, for fear lest you get lost. Let us all go in together; Eunoë, clutch tight to me. Oh, how tiresome, Gorgo, my muslin veil is torn in two already! For heaven’s sake, sir, if you ever wish to be fortunate, take care of my shawl! _Stranger_. I can hardly help myself, but for all that I will be as careful as I can. _Praxinoë_. How close-packed the mob is, they hustle like a herd of swine. _Stranger_. Courage, lady, all is well with us now. _Praxinoë_. Both this year and for ever may all be well with you, my dear sir, for your care of us. A good kind man! We’re letting Eunoë get squeezed—come, wretched girl, push your way through. That is the way. We are all on the right side of the door, quoth the bridegroom, when he had shut himself in with his bride. _Gorgo_. Do come here, Praxinoë. Look first at these embroideries. How light and how lovely! You will call them the garments of the gods. _Praxinoë_. Lady Athene, what spinning women wrought them, what painters designed these drawings, so true they are? How naturally they stand and move, like living creatures, not patterns woven. What a clever thing is man! Ah, and himself—Adonis—how beautiful to behold he lies on his silver couch, with the first down on his cheeks, the thrice-beloved Adonis,—Adonis beloved even among the dead.