Two swift galleys from the royal fleet reported meeting a Samian trireme,
which had given news of a great victory gained by Antony on the land and
Cleopatra on the sea, and, as men are most ready to believe what they
desire, throngs of exulting men and women moved to and fro along the
shore, strengthening by their confidence many a timorous spirit. Prudent
people, who had regarded the long delay of the first ships of the fleet
with anxiety, had opened their ears to the tales of evil, and looked
forward to the future with uneasiness. But they avoided giving
expression to their fears, for the overseer of an establishment for
gold embroidery, who had ventured to warn the people against premature
rejoicing, had limped home badly beaten, and two other pessimists who had
been flung in the sea had just been dragged out dripping wet.

Nor could the multitude be blamed for this confidence; for at the
Serapeum, the theatre of Dionysus, the lofty pylons of the Sebasteum, the
main door of the museum, in front of the entrance of the palace in the
Bruchium, and before the fortress-like palaces in the Lochias, triumphal
arches had been erected, adorned with gods of victory and trophies
hastily constructed of plaster, inscriptions of congratulations and
thanks to the deities, garlands of foliage and flowers. The wreathing of
the Egyptian pylons and obelisks, the principal temple, and the favourite
statues in the city had been commenced during the night. The last
touches were now being given to the work.

Gorgias, like his friend Dion, had not closed his eyes since the night
before; for he had had charge of all the decorations of the Bruchium,
where one superb building adjoined another.

Sleep had also fled from the couches of the occupants of the Sebasteum,