n their throats, while they littered the floor
with green, muddy leaves.

The Greek stood in the doorway with a few of the mariners who could not
find room within, and contemplated the spectacle. As he gazed on the
rude banquet the stranger remembered that he had not eaten since
morning, when the master of the rowers on Polyanthus' ship had given him
a piece of bread. The novelty of disembarking in an unknown land had
quieted his stomach, accustomed as it was to privations; but now in
sight of so many different foods he felt the pangs of hunger, and
instinctively set one foot within the tavern, drawing it back
immediately. What was the use of going in? The pouch hanging from his
shoulder held papyri testifying to his past achievements; tablets for
memoranda; even pincers for extracting his beard; a comb; all the small
objects of which a good Greek, addicted to the scrupulous care of his
person, would not deprive himself, but search in it as he might he could
find not a single obolus. The pilot, who respected the Greeks of Attica,
had given him free passage on the ship when he met him wandering along
the wharves at New Carthage. He was hungry and alone in a strange land,
and if he should enter the hostelry to eat without offering money, he
would be treated like a slave, and be driven out with a club.

Mocked by the odor of the viands and sauces, he turned to flee, tearing
himself away from this torture of Tantalus, but as he drew back he
bumped against a tall man clad only in a dark sagum and sandals with
straps crossed to the knees. He resembled a Celtiberian shepherd; but
the Greek, as he collided with him, received the impression in a hasty
exchange of glances that this was not the first time he had looked into
those imperious eyes which recalled to his mind the eyes of the eagle
perched at the feet of Zeus.

The Greek shrugged his shoulders with indifference. What he desired was
to satiate his hunger and to sleep if possible until sunrise. Turning
his back on the wretched suburb, illuminated and noisy, he sought a
place where he might rest, and he took the road toward the fane of
Aphrodite. The temple, situated on the crest of the hill, was approached
by a broad stairway of blue marble, its first step rising from the quay.

The Greek seated himself on the polished stone, proposing to await there
the coming of the day. The moon illuminated the whole upper part of the
temple; the sounds from the houses near the port