ng
through the remnants of the riches, they groaned--

"How shall we live when Thais is no longer here to feed us? Every day
the fragments from her table fed two hundred poor wretches, and her
lovers, when they quitted her, threw us as they passed handfuls of
silver pieces."

Some thieves, too, also mingled with the crowd, and created a deafening
clamour, and pushed their neighbours, to increase disorder, and take
advantage of the tumult to filch some valuable object.

Old Taddeus, who sold Miletan wool and Tarentan linen, and to whom Thais
owed a large sum of money, alone remained calm and silent in the
midst of the uproar. He listened and watched, and gently stroking his
goat-beard, seemed thoughtful. At last he approached young Cerons, and
pulling him by the sleeve, whispered--

"You are the favoured lover of Thais, handsome youth; show yourself, and
do not allow this monk to carry her off."

"By Pollux and his sister, he shall not!" cried Cerons. "I will speak
to Thais, and without flattering myself, I think she will listen to me
rather than to that sooty-faced Lapithan. Place! Place, dogs!"

And striking with his fist the men, upsetting the old women and treading
on the young children, he reached Thais, and taking her aside--

"Dearest girl," he said, "look at me, remember, and tell me truly if you
renounce love."

But Paphnutius threw himself between Thais and Cerons.

"Impious wretch!" he cried, "beware and touch her not; she is
sacred--she belongs to God."

"Get away, baboon!" replied the young man furiously. "Let me speak to my
sweetheart, or if not I will drag your obscene carcase by the beard to
the fire, and roast you like a sausage."

And he put his hand on Thais. But, pushed away by the monk with
unexpected force, he staggered back four paces and fell at the foot of
the pile amongst the scattered ashes.

Old Taddeus, meanwhile, had been going from one to the other, pulling
the ears of the slaves and kissing the hands of the masters, inciting
each and all against Paphnutius, and had already formed a little band
resolutely determined to oppose the monk who would steal Thais from
them.

Cerons rose, his face black, his hair singed, and choking with smoke
and rage. He blasphemed against the gods, and threw himself amongst the
assailants, behind whom the beggars crawled, shaking their crutches.
Paphnutius was soon enclosed in a circle of menacing fists, raised
sticks, and cries of death.

"To