And Hugo: "Was it as fine as the Chromatic Fantasie, father, or the Pyramids?"
"It was something very different, my boy, but certainly not so fine, for it was less lasting."
On the third and highest terrace, beneath the loftiest of the white marble columns, and running around the entire temple, was a frieze, sculptured in bas-relief. Upon it were groups of figures, cut with most wonderful art, giving representative scenes from the whole history of mankind. Among them, the spectacle of the battles held the youths the longest.
"Look, father! Here again is a man being killed. Why was that? What harm did he do?"
"That is Pertinax," replied the father, "a king of Rome, killed by his soldiers because he was just."
"A man killed for being just! What strange people!" said Hugo, smiling.
"They killed Socrates also, because he was wise, did they not, father? We saw that a little while ago," said Gerbrand.
"Yes, Gerbrand," said Hugo; "but indeed they also fought for good reasons, did they not, father? Socrates himself fought, and Sophocles."
"And Æschylus," added the father. "He lost his hand at Marathon. And Dante fought, and so did Byron."
"Shelley too, father?" asked Hugo.