CHAPTER III.

Antinous, searching for his master, had wandered about in the crowd.
Whenever he saw any figures of exceptional stature he followed them, but
each time only to discover that he had entered on a false track. Long
and persistent effort was not in his nature, so as soon as he began to
get tired, he gave up the search and sat down again on a stone bench in
the garden of the Paneum.

Two cynic philosophers, with unkempt hair, tangled beards, and ragged
cloaks flung over their shivering bodies, sat down by him and fell into
loud and contemptuous abuse of the deference shown, 'in these days,' to
external things and vulgar joys, and of the wretched sensualists who
regarded pleasure and splendor, rather than virtue, as the aim and end of
existence. In order to be heard by the by-standers they spoke in loud
tones, and the elder of the two, flourished his knotted stick as
viciously, as though he had to defend himself against an attack.
Antinous felt much disgusted by the hideous appearance, the coarse
manners, and shrill voices of these persons, and when he rose--as the
cynics' diatribe seemed especially directed against him--they scoffed
at him as he went, mocking at his costume and his oiled and perfumed
hair. The Bithynian made no reply to this abuse. It was odious to him,
but he thought it might perhaps have amused Caesar.

He wandered on without thinking; the street in which he presently found
himself must no doubt lead to the sea, and if he could once find himself