tion on the stage. Arsinoe soon followed this example, nor was
this solely on account of Pollux who, by the prefect's orders, had been
enlisted among the artists to whom the arrangement of the display was
entrusted, in spite of the objections of his master Papias. More than
once before had she seen the afternoon sun shine as brightly into the
theatre as it did to-day, and the blue sky overarching it without a
cloud, but with what different feelings did she now direct her gaze to
the raised level behind the orchestra. The background, it is true, was
the same as usual, the pillared front of a palace built entirely of
colored marbles, and ornamented with gold; but on this occasion fresh
garlands of fragrant flowers hung gracefully between the pilasters and
across from column to column. Several artists, the first of the city,
with tablets and styla in their hands were moving about among fifty
girls and ladies, and Plutarch himself, and the gentlemen with him,
composed, as it were a grand chorus which sometimes divided, and
sometimes stood all together.

On the right side of the stage were three purple-covered couches. On
one of them sat Titianus, the prefect, who, like the artists, used his
pencil; with him was his wife Julia. On another reclined Verus, at full
length, and as usual, crowned with roses; the third was for Plutarch,
but was unoccupied. The praetor did not hesitate to interrupt any
speaker, as though he were the host of the entertainment, and many of
his remarks were followed by loud applause, or approving laughter.

The face and figure of the wealthy Plutarch, which could never be
forgotten, were not altogether strange to Arsinoe, for, a few days
previously he had shown himself for the first time in many years in his
papyrus factory, with an architect to settle with him how the courts
and rooms could best be cleaned and decorated for the reception of the
Emperor; and on this occasion he had gone into the room where she worked
and had pinched her cheek with a few roguish and flattering words.

There he was, walking across the stage. He was an old man, said to
be about seventy years of age, his legs were half-paralyzed, and they
nevertheless moved with a series of incessant and rapid but unvoluntary
jerks under his heavy bowed body, and he was supported on either hand by
a tall young fellow. His nobly-formed head, must have been in his youth,
of extraordinary beauty. Now his head was covered by a wig of long br