In the first place, I could do just what I liked; there were still plenty of handsome boys and dainty women; perfumes were sweet, wine kept its bouquet, Sicilian feasts were nothing to mine,

This is a change, to be sure; you were very economical in my day.

Ah, but, my simple friend, these good things were presents—came in streams. From dawn my doors were thronged with visitors, and in the day it was a procession of the fairest gifts of earth.

Why, you must have seized the crown after my death.

Oh no, it was only that I inspired a number of tender passions,

Tender passions, indeed! what, you, an old man with hardly a tooth left in your head!

Certainly; the first of our townsmen were in love with me. Such as you see me, old, bald, blear-eyed, rheumy, they delighted to do me honour; happy was the man on whom my glance rested a moment.

Well, then, you had some adventure like Phaon’s, when he rowed Aphrodite across from Chios; your God granted your prayer and made you young and fair and lovely again.

No, no; I was as you see me, and I was the object of all desire.

Oh, I give it up.