On the third day there was the union of Podaleirius
and the mother of Alexander—it was called the Day
of Torches, and torches were burned. In conclusion
there was the amour of Selene and Alexander, and
the birth of Rutilianus’ wife. The torch-bearer and
hierophant was our Endymion, Alexander. While
he lay in full view, pretending to be asleep, there
came down to him from the roof, as if from heaven,
not Selene but Rutilia, a very pretty woman, married
to one of the Emperor’s stewards. She was
genuinely in love with Alexander and he with her;
and before the eyes of her worthless husband there
were kisses and embraces in public. If the torches


 

had not been numerous, perhaps the thing would
have been carried even further. After a short time
Alexander entered again, robed as a priest, amid
profound silence, and said in a loud voice, over and
over again, “Hail, Glycon,” while, following in his
train, a number of would-be Eumolpids and Ceryces Hereditary priesthoods in the Eleusinian mysteries. 
from Paphlagonia, with brogans on their feet and
breaths that reeked of garlic, shouted in response,
“Hail, Alexander!”