Stupid girl! Why are you wetting my dress? There, stop, I have
washed my hands as heaven would have it. Where is the key of the big
chest? Bring it here."

This is life, natural and true; we can see those three together, the
girlish young wife hurrying and scolding and chattering naturally and half
childishly, the patient servant girl smiling at the hurry of her mistress,
and the visitor looking at her friend's new dress, wondering how much it
cost and presently asking her the price. At last all is ready. But the
little boy sees his mother go out and he wants to go out too, though it
has been decided not to take him, because the crowd is too rough and he
might be hurt. Here the mother first explains, then speaks firmly:

"No, child, I don't mean to take you. Boo! Bogies! There is a horse that
bites! Cry as much as you please, but I cannot have you maimed."

They go out, Praxinoe and Gorgo and the maid-servant Eunoe. The crowd is
tremendous, and they find it very hard to advance. Sometimes there are
horses in the way, sometimes wagons, occasionally a legion of cavalry. We
know all this, because we hear the chatter of the women as they make their
way through the press.

"Give me your hand, and you, Eunoe, catch hold of Eutychis,--for fear lest
you get lost.... Here come the kings on horses! My dear man, don't trample
on me. Eunoe, you fool-hardy girl, will you never keep out of the way? Oh!
How tiresome, Gorgo, my muslin veil is torn in two already.... For
heaven's sake, sir, if you ever wish to be fortunate, take care of my
shawl!"

STRANGER. "I can hardly help myself, but for all that I will be as helpful
as I can."

The strange man helps the women and children through the pushing crowd,
and they thank him very prettily, praying that he may have good fortune
all his life. But not all the strangers who come in contact with them
happen to be so kind. They come at last into that part of the temple
ground where the image of Adonis is displayed; the beauty of the statue
moves them, and they utter exclamations of delight. This does not please
some of the male spectators, one of whom exclaims, "You tiresome women, do
cease your endless cooing talk! They bore one to death with their eternal
broad vowels!"

They are country women, and their critic is probably a purist--somebody
who has studied Greek as it is pronounced and spoken in Athens. But the
women bravely resent this interference with their rights.

GORGO. "Indee