crown of Athens.

Never had Helios looked down on fairer landscape or city. The doors of the
patrician houses were opened; for a day unguarded, unconstrained, the
daughters, wives, and mothers of the nobility of Athens walked forth in
their queenly beauty. One could see that the sculptor's master works were
but rigid counterparts of lovelier flesh and blood. One could see
veterans, stalwart almost as on the day of the old-time battles, but
crowned with the snow of years. One could see youths, and need no longer
marvel the young Apollo was accounted fair. Flowers, fluttering mantles,
purple, gold, the bravery of armour, rousing music--what was missing? All
conjoined to make a perfect spectacle.

The sun had chased the last vapours from the sky. The little ravines on
distant Hymettus stood forth sharply as though near at hand. The sun grew
hot, but men and women walked with bared heads, and few were the untanned
cheeks and shoulders. Children of the South, and lovers of the Sun-King,
the Athenians sought no shelter, their own bright humour rejoicing in the
light.

On the broad parade ground outside the Dipylon, the towering northwestern
gate, the procession gathered. Themistocles the Handsome, never more
gallant than now upon the white Thessalian, was ordering the array, the
ten young men, "stewards of the Panathenaea," assisting. He sent his last
glance down the long files, his ivory wand signed to the musicians in the
van.

"Play! march!"

Fifty pipers blew, fifty citharas tinkled. The host swept into the city.

Themistocles led. Under the massy double gate caracoled the charger. The
robe of his rider blew out behind him like purple wings. There was the cry
and clang of cymbals and drums. From the gray battlement yellow daisies
rained down like gold. Cantering, halting, advancing, beckoning, the chief
went forward, and behind swept the "knights," the mounted chivalry of
Athens,--three hundred of the noblest youths of Attica, on beasts sleek and
spirited, and in burnished armour, but about every helm a wreath. Behind
the "knights" rode the magistracy, men white-headed and grave, some
riding, some in flower-decked cars. After these the victors in the games
and contests of the preceding day. Next the elders of Athens--men of
blameless life, beautiful in hale and honoured age. Next the _ephebi_,--the
youths close to manhood, whose fair limbs glistened under their sweeping
chitons. Behind them, their sisters, unveiled,