here and there the spilt wine shone with a dark gleam in the dim light of
the few lamps that had not been extinguished.

A young flute-player, overcome with sleep and wine, still sat in one
corner. The poplar wreath that had crowned his curls had slipped over
his pretty face, but even in sleep he still held his flute clasped fast
in his fingers. The servants let him sleep on, and bustled about without
noticing him; only an overseer pointed to him, and said laughing:

"His companions went home no more sober than that one. He is a pretty
boy, and pretty Chloes lover besides--she will look for him in vain this
morning."

"And to-morrow too perhaps," answered another; "for if the fat king sees
her, poor Damon will have seen the last of her."

But the fat king, as Euergetes was called by the Alexandrians, and,
following their example, by all the rest of Egypt, was not just then
thinking of Chloe, nor of any such person; he was in the bath attached to
his splendidly fitted residence. Divested of all clothing, he was
standing in the tepid fluid which completely filled a huge basin of white
marble. The clear surface of the perfumed water mirrored statues of
nymphs fleeing from the pursuit of satyrs, and reflected the shimmering
light of numbers of lamps suspended from the ceiling. At the upper end
of the bath reclined the bearded and stalwart statue of the Nile, over
whom the sixteen infant figures--representing the number of ells to which
the great Egyptian stream must rise to secure a favorable inundation--
clambered and played to the delight of their noble father Nile and of
themselves. From the vase which supported the arm of the venerable god
flowed an abundant stream of cold water, which five pretty lads received