skipping along in elaborately graceful leaps, but carrying over his arm,
with comic care, a long bull's-tail that he had tied on, and blowing
alternately up and down the short scale from the shortest to the longest
of the reeds composing his panpipes. Through the noisy crowd as they
rushed by, sounded, now and again, a loud roar, that might as easily have
been caused by pain as joy; but it was each time hastily drowned in mad
laughter, extravagant singing and jubilant music.

Old and young, great and small, all in short that came near this rabble
train, were carried off with irresistible force to follow it with shouts
of triumph. Even Pollux and Arsinoe had for some time ceased to walk
soberly side by side, but moved their feet, laughingly in time to the
merry measure.

"How nice it sounds," cried the artist. "I could dance and be merry too
Arsinoe, dance and make merry with you like a madman!"

Before she could find time to say 'yes' or 'no,' he shouted a loud "To,
To, Dionysus," and flung her up in the air. She too was caught by the
spirit of the thing, and waving her hand above her head she joined in his
shout of triumph, and let him drag her along to a corner of the Moon-
street where a seller of garlands offered her wares for sale. There she
let him wreathe her with ivy, she stuck a laurel wreath on his head,
twisted a streamer of ivy round his neck and breast, and laughed loudly
as she flung a large silver coin into the flower-woman's lap and clung
tightly to his arm. It was all done in swift haste without reflection,
as if in a fit of intoxication, and with trembling hands.

The procession was drawing to an end. Six women and girls in wreaths
closed it, walking arm in arm with loud singing. Pollux drew his