s for a few months, the power
of her beauty burst forth with such effect that all the city was moved.
All Antioch crowded to the theatre. The imperial magistrates and the
chief citizens were compelled, by the force of public opinion, to show
themselves there. The porters, sweepers, and dock labourers went without
bread and garlic, that they might pay for their places. Poets composed
epigrams in her honour. Bearded philosophers inveighed against her in
the baths and gymnasia; when her litter passed, Christian priests turned
away their heads. The threshold of her door was wreathed with flowers,
and sprinkled with blood. She received so much money from her lovers
that it was no longer counted, but measured by the medimnus, and all the
treasure hoarded by miserly old men was poured out at her feet. But
she was placid and unmoved. She rejoiced, with quiet pride, in the
admiration of the public and the favour of the gods, and was so much
loved that she loved herself.

After she had several years enjoyed the admiration and affection of the
Antiochians, she was taken with a desire to revisit Alexandria, and show
her glory in that city in which, as a child, she had wandered in want
and shame, hungry and lean as a grasshopper in the middle of a dusty
road. The golden city joyfully welcomed her, and loaded her with fresh
riches; when she appeared in the games it was a triumph. Countless
admirers and lovers came to her. She received them with indifference,
for she at last despaired of meeting another Lollius.

Amongst many others, she met the philosopher Nicias, who desired to
possess her, although he professed to have no desires. In spite of
his riches, he was intelligent and modest. But his delicate wit and
beautiful sentiments failed to charm her. She did not love him and
sometimes his refined irony even irritated her. His perpetual doubts
hurt her, for he believed in nothing, and she believed in everything.
She believed in divine providence, in the omnipotence of evil spirits,
in spells, exorcisms, and eternal justice; she believed in Jesus Christ,
and in the goddess of good of the Syrians; she believed also that
bitches barked when black Hecate passed through the streets, and that a
woman could inspire love by pouring a philtre into a cup wrapped in the
bleeding skin of a sheep. She thirsted for the unknown; she called on
nameless gods, and lived in perpetual expectation. The future frightened
her, and yet she wished to know