e others which were brought in the farmer's cart at
dawn."

"Farewell, Athenian! Speak to my father, but do not tell him with whom
you saw me."

Actaeon crossed the river, picking his way between the carts which were
immersed in the water up to their axles, and stood before the ramparts
of the city, admiring their strength, the bases of undressed stone,
fitted closely without mortar, supporting wall and towers of strong
masonry.

At the gate of the Road of the Serpent, which was the main entrance, he
was detained by a jam of men, wagons, and horses in the narrow tunnel.
Inside the city, and almost against the wall, was the temple of Diana, a
shrine known throughout the world for its antiquity, and which gave not
a little fame to the Saguntines. Actaeon paused to admire the roof of
juniper planks of venerable age, but, eager to see the city, he
continued on his way.

There was to be seen down at the end of a straight street, where the
buildings widened out, forming an enormous right-angled space, a great
square plaza with beautiful structures sustained by arches, beneath
which the people were swarming. It was the Forum. Above the roofs at the
lower end could be seen houses and more houses with white walls climbing
up the mountain slope; and in the background the walls of the Acropolis,
the colonnades of the temples sustaining the friezes consisting of
enormous carved stones.

Actaeon, following the road leading to the Forum, was reminded of the
maritime suburb of the Piraeus. This was the merchants' district,
inhabited mainly by Greeks. The stir of traffic could be seen through
the windows of the lower stories; slaves were piling up bales; young men
with curly hair and aquiline noses were tracing on their wax tablets
their complicated business accounts, and samples of their wares were
exposed on small tables before the doors of the houses; there were piles
of wheat or wool and heavy rough pieces of marble from the quarries. The
merchants, standing in their doorways and leaning against the jambs,
talked with their customers, gesticulating and with smooth accent
calling upon the gods as witnesses that they were being ruined in their
business.

In some shops, the proprietors, in vestments embroidered with golden
flowers, wearing tall mitres and purple sandals, with light, sphinx-like
eyes, and stroking the curls of their perfumed beards, listened in
silence to their customers. They were traders from Africa and Asia,