When, after the banquet, the mixing-vessels were brought out and the beakers were filled more rapidly, Antyllus whispered several times to Caesarion and then turned the conversation upon Barine, the fairest of the fair, destined by the immortals for the greatest and highest of mankind.  This was the “King of kings,” Caesarion, and he also claimed the favour of the gods for himself.  But everybody knew that Aphrodite deemed herself greater than the highest of kings, and therefore Barine ventured to close her doors upon their august symposiarch in a manner which could not fail to be unendurable, not only to him but to all the youth of Alexandria.  Whoever boasted of being one of the Ephebi might well clench his fist with indignation, when he heard that the insolent beauty kept young men at a distance because she considered only the older ones worthy of her notice.  This must not be!  The Ephebi of Alexandria must make her feel the power of youth.  This was the more urgently demanded, because Caesarion would thereby be led to the goal of his wishes.

Barine was going into the country that very evening.  Insulted Eros himself was smoothing their way.  He commanded them to attack the arrogant fair one’s carriage and lead her to him who sought her in the name of youth, in order to show her that the hearts of the Ephebi, whom she disdainfully rejected, glowed more ardently than those of the older men on whom she bestowed her favours.

Here Gorgias interrupted the speaker with a loud cry of indignation, but old Didymus’s eyes seemed to be fairly starting from their sockets as he hoarsely shouted an impatient: 

“Go on!”

And Philotas, now completely sobered, described with increasing animation the wonderful change that had taken place in the quiet Caesarion, as if some magic spell had been at work; for scarcely had the revellers greeted Antyllus’s words with shouts of joy, declaring themselves ready to avenge insulted youth upon Barine, than the “King of kings” suddenly sprang from the cushions on which he had listlessly reclined, and with flashing eyes shouted that whoever called himself his friend must aid him in the attack.

Here he was urged to still greater haste by another impatient “Go on!” from his master, and hurriedly continued his story, describing how they had blackened their faces and armed themselves with Antyllus’s swords and lances.  As the sun was setting they went in a covered boat through the Agathodamon Canal to Lake Mareotis.  Everything must have been arranged in advance; for they landed precisely at the right hour.

As, during the trip, they had kept up their courage by swallowing the most fiery wine, Philotas had staggered on shore with difficulty and then been dragged forward by the others.  After this he knew nothing more, except that he had rushed with the rest upon a large harmamaxa,—­[A closed Asiatic travelling-carriage with four wheels]—­and in so doing fell.  When he rose from the earth all was over.