"Mother, we shall see the shows, we shall see the shows!" cried Agatha.
"Oh! and I am so slow. There is another ingredient yet in my wallet of tidings," exclaimed Crispina; "and only think of my almost forgetting to remember it."
"Remember not to forget it," said the Greek girl, holding up her finger with an admonishing and censorious look at the landlady. "What is this particular which you have, after all, not forgotten to remember?"
"My charming little lady, it is a particular which concerns the land of your mother, and the people of Greece; for seldom, say they, has that land or people sent to Rome any body like him."
"You accused yourself of being slow; but now you gallop. Like whom?"
"Like this noble young Athenian."
"Galloping still faster," rejoined Agatha.
"What noble young Athenian?"
"This Athenian, gifted as his countryman Alcibiades, eloquent as our own Tully, acute and profound as Aristotle, honorable as Fabricius, truthful as Regulus, and O ladies! with all these other excellencies, beautiful as a poem, a picture, a statue, or a dream!"
"There's a description," quoth Agatha, laughing.