his drunken votaries danced madly round the rescued god; and
as all the tambourines were split and the flute-players had no breath
left, time was kept by beating with thyrsus-staves against the pillars,
while three men, who had found the brazen tubas among the temple vessels,
blew with all their might and main.

Strong opposition, however, was roused by this mad uproar. A party of
worshippers, in the first place, rebelled against it; these had been
standing with veiled heads, near the statue of Serapis, muttering
exorcisms after a Magian and howling lamentably at intervals; then a
preacher, who had succeeded in collecting a little knot of listeners, bid
the trumpeters cease; and finally, a party of actors and singers, who had
assembled in the outer hall to perform a satira play, tried to stop them,
though they themselves were making such a noise that the trumpet-blast
could have affected them but little. When the players found that
remonstrance had no effect they rushed into the hypostyle and tried to
reduce the musicians to silence by force.

Then a frenzied contest began; but the combatants were soon separated;
the actors and their antagonists fell on each other's necks, and a
Homeric poet, who had compiled an elegy for the evening on the "Gods
coerced by the hosts of the new superstition," made up simply of lines
culled from the Iliad and Odyssey, seized this favorable opportunity. He
had begun to read it at the top of his voice, screaming down the general
din, when everything was forgotten in the excitement caused by the
entrance of a procession which was the successful result of many raids on
the temple-treasuries and lumber-rooms.

A storm of applause greeted its appearance; the tipsiest stammered out
his approval, and the picture presented to drunken eyes was indeed a
beautiful and gorgeous one. On a high platform-intended for the display
of a small image of Serapis and certain symbols of the god, at great
festivals--Glycera, the loveliest hetaira of the town, was drawn in
triumph through the temple. She reclined in a sort of bowl representing a
shell, placed at the top of the platform, and on the lower stages sat
groups of fair girls, swaying gently with luxurious grace, and flinging
flowers down to the crowd who, with jealous rivalry, strove to catch
them. Everyone recognized the beautiful hetaira as Aphrodite, and she was
hailed, as with one voice, the Queen of the World. The men rushed forward
to pour liba