“She is taking the bread out of our mouths.”
“She is robbing our children.”
“She ought at least to pay for the wreaths I have sold to her.”
“And the sixty robes she has ordered of me.”
“She owes money to everybody.”
“Who will represent Iphigenia, Electra, and Polyxena when she is gone? The handsome Polybia herself will not make such a success as she has done.”
“Life will be dull when her door is closed.”
“She was the bright star, the soft moon of the Alexandrian sky.”
All the most notorious mendicants of the city—cripples, blind men, and paralytics—had by this time assembled in the place; and crawling through the remnants of the riches, they groaned—
“How shall we live when Thais is no longer here to feed us? Every day the fragments from her table fed two hundred poor wretches, and her lovers, when they quitted her, threw us as they passed handfuls of silver pieces.”