eaching
the former place he learned that Gorgias had gone to remove the statues
of Cleopatra and Antony from the house of Didymus, and erect them in
front of the Theatre of Dionysus. The Regent, Mardion, had ordered it.
Gorgias was already superintending the erection of the foundation.
The huge hewn stones which he required for this purpose had been taken
from the Temple of Nemesis, which he was supervising. Whatever number of
government slaves he needed were at his disposal, so Gorgias's foreman
reported, proudly adding that before the sun went down, the architect
would have shown the Alexandrians the marvel of removing the twin
statues from one place to another in a single day, and yet establishing
them as firmly as the Colossus which had been in Thebes a thousand
years.
Dion found the piece of sculpture in front of Didymus's garden, ready
for removal, but the slaves who had placed before the platform the
rollers on which it was to be moved had already been kept waiting a long
time by the architect.
This was his third visit to the old philosopher's house. First, he had
been obliged to inform him and his family that their property was no
longer in danger; then he had come to tell them at what hour he would
remove the statues, which still attracted many curious spectators; and,
finally, he had again appeared, to announce that they were to be taken
away at once. His foreman or a slave could probably have done this, but
Helena--Didymus's granddaughter, Barine's sister--drew him again and
again to the old man's home. He would gladly have come still more
frequently, for at every meeting he had discovered fresh charms in the
beautiful, quiet, thoughtful maiden, who cared so tenderly for her aged
grandparents. He believed that he loved her, and she seemed glad to
welcome him. But this did not entitle him to seek her hand, though his
large, empty house so greatly needed a mistress. His heart had glowed
with love for too many. He wished first to test whether this new fancy
would prove more lasting. If he succeeded in remaining faithful even a
few days, he would, as it were, reward himself for it, and appear before
Didymus as a suitor.
He excused his frequent visits to himself on the pretext of the
necessity of becoming acquainted with his future wife, and Helena made
the task easier for him. The usual reserve of her manner lessened more
and more; nay, the great confidence with which he at first inspired her
was increas
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