at this moment, in the same flowing raiment. This had provoked the
feasters, who, being full of wine and of the god, would have nothing that
could remind them of the serious side of life. Such sullen reserve on a
day of rejoicing was an insult to the jolly giver of the fruits of the
earth, and to wine itself, the care-killer; and the mad troop of artists,
disguised as Silenus, satyrs, and fauns, had crowded round the stranger
to compel him to join their rout and empty the wine-jar which a burly
Silenus was carrying before him on his ass.

At first the man had paid no heed to the youths' light mockery; but as
they grew bolder, he suddenly stood still, seized the tall faun, who was
trying to force the wine-jar on him, by both arms, and, holding him
firmly, fixed his grave, dark eyes on those of the youth. Alexander had
not forgotten the half-comical, half-threatening incident, but what he
remembered most clearly was the strange scene that followed: for, after
the Magian had released his enemy, he bade him take the jar back to
Silenus, and proceed on his way, like the ass, on all-fours. And the
tall faun, a headstrong, irascible Lesbian, had actually obeyed the
stately despot, and crept along on his hands and feet by the side of the
donkey. No threats nor mockery of his companions could persuade him to
rise. The high spirits of the boisterous crew were quite broken, and
before they could turn on the magician he had vanished.

Alexander had afterward learned that he was Serapion, the star-gazer and
thaumaturgist, whom all the spirits of heaven and earth obeyed.

When, at the time, the painter had told the story to Philip, the
philosopher had laughed at him, though Alexander had reminded him that
Plato even had spoken of the daimons as being the guardian spirits of
men; that in Alexandria, great and small alike believed in them as a fact