great potentate to wait on me. And if it had only
occurred to Caesar, when he was in Syria, to marry your sister, I should
have had his sister-in-law in my service. But at any rate I forbid
howling. You might have learned in the course of thirty years, that I do
not eat my fellow-creatures. So, now, confess at once what is wrong in
the kitchen, and then go and fetch Melissa." The woman was, perhaps, wise
to defer the evil moment as long as possible. Matters might soon change
for the better, and good or evil could come only from without. So Dido
clung to the literal sense of her master's question, and something
note-worthy had actually happened in the kitchen. She drew a deep breath,
and told him that a subordinate of the night-watch had come in and asked
whether Alexander were in the house, and where his painting-room was.

"And you gave him an exact description?" asked Heron.

But the slave shook her head; she again began to fidget with her dress,
and said, timidly:

"Argutis was there, and he says no good can come of the night-watch. He
told the man what he thought fit, and sent him about his business."

At this Heron interrupted the old woman with such a mighty blow of his
fist on the table that the porridge jumped in the bowl, and he exclaimed
in a fury:

"That is what comes of treating slaves as our equals! They begin to think
for themselves. A stupid blunder can spoil the best day! The captain of
the night-watch, I would have you to know, is a very great man, and very
likely a friend of Seleukus's, whose daughter Alexander has just painted.
The picture is attracting some attention.--Attention? What am I saying?
Every one who has been allowed to see it is quite crazy about it.
Everything else that was on show in the embalmers' hall was mere trash by
comparison. Often enough have I grumbled at the boy, who would rather be
anywhere than here; but, this time, I had some ground for being proud to
be his father! And now the captain of the watch sends his secretary, or
something of the kind, no doubt, in order to have his portrait, or his
wife's or daughter's--if he has one--painted by the artist who did
Korinna's; and his own father's slave--it drives me mad to think of
it--makes a face at the messenger and sends him all astray. I will give
Argutis a lesson! But by this time, perhaps--Just go and fetch him in."
With these words Heron again dropped his spoon, wiped his beard, and
then, seeing that Dido was still sta