“Clearly understand that I have taken you under my protection,” said he. “For not one citizen of Athens, save myself alone, is out of danger when near the Macedonian. If the least little trouble had brought you before their Court of Justice I would not have given two copper coins for the value of your liberty. But now, maintain a tranquil mind.” “I am not,” I responded, “of a fearsome nature, but here in the shadow of your mighty name----” “Yes,” said Parrhasius. “When Philip knew that I was going to honour his new city he sent forward upon my route an officer of the palace. This man brought me royal presents, among others the six colossal men slaves and the two beautiful girls that you have seen. That is to say Force to open my path before me and Beauty to grace my person.” “Girls of Macedonia?” I questioned. “Macedonians of Rhodes,” came the laughing answer. And then Parrhasius with a generous gesture of gift said-- “They shall both brighten your bed this night. As for me I have others left with my valuables. But you are alone, friend. Accept these rosy flowers of flesh from my hands. Their bright youthful skins will be strikingly beautiful contrasted with a couch of sombre purple....” We approached the great market. He stopped and regarded me. “Indeed, you do not even ask me what it is that I come here to seek!” “I would not dare.” “Can you divine it?” “No; certainly not. I do not think you can want slaves, for Philip gives you his own. Nor girls, since as you say....” “I have come from Athens to Chalcis to find a model, my friend. Now you seem to be surprised.” “A model for you. Are there not any then between the Academe and the Piræus?” “Yes: about half a million--for me,” he said majestically. “All Athens. And yet I seek a model at the sale of the Olythians. You shall hear why, and you will comprehend.” Here he drew himself up proudly-- “I shall make a Prometheus.” In saying this his face expressed the horror that the subject of Prometheus would have. “There is a Prometheus (of some sort or the other) under every portico, as you know. Timagoras made and sold one; Apollodorus has attempted another. Zeuxis has believed that he has the power to ... but why bring back to our memory so much piteous painting. _The_ Prometheus has never yet been given to the world.” “That I fully believe,” I replied to the Master. “They have represented peasants naked and attached to rocks made of wood. Their faces were distorted by a grimace of some sort, a mere face-ache. But, Prometheus the forger of fire, and creator of the man and his struggle with the eagle-god.... Ah! No one has yet created that, Bryaxis. Such a Prometheus, one of the greatest grandeur, I see as plainly before me, created by my brain, as I see your face. That is the type of Prometheus that I wish to nail to the walls of the Parthenon.”