Straton went into a fit of coughing. Demetrios Phalereus presented a young man with a shy look. "This is Eukleides, a schoolteacher and my reader," he said. "Ah, woe! Age has lengthened my sight until an ordinary manuscript is but a blur to me, so I must be read to aloud like an unlettered lout. In return, I give my young friend the run of the books yonder."
He indicated the next room, jammed with bags, boxes, and single rolls. "My living space grows more cramped with each month as books for the Library pour in upon me. I have talked myself hoarse, pleading with the king for funds for an adequate library building, but something more pressing always supervenes. Therefore I must store these books here, where they are rapidly crowding me out of house and home. Of course I have only myself to blame for proposing the enterprise!"
Demetrios Phalereus dropped a painted eyelid in a subtle wink. He continued: "However, the king has definitely promised that construction shall begin this year. And high time, too, for our plans have gone far beyond the original proposal. I am urging the king to build a temple of the Muses to house the books, and to hire scholars and scientists to study them, to compose critical works upon them, to test their claims by experiments and expeditions, and to teach the younger scholars the lessons thus learnt. This policy, I aver, will make Alexandria the intellectual and educational center of the world. Now, my dear fellow, what's the purpose of your visit this time?"
I told Demetrios Phalereus of our plans for selling the timber.
Demetrios Phalereus doubtfully pursed his lips. "I fear we are well supplied with timber from the Lebanon, but we shall see."
My heart sank. Eukleides and Straton questioned me about my plans for the Colossus, news of which had spread far and wide about the Inner Sea. Soon we had forgotten the other guests as we scribbled computations on a waxen tablet.
Eukleides proved to have an extraordinary grasp of mathematical matters. He suggested some geometrical formulae that bade fair to simplify the design, and he promised to write them out in permanent form on papyrus.
"You should write a book on geometry," I told him.
"Perhaps I shall," quoth he. Now I hear that he has, and a masterly work, too.
Straton asked me: "What sort of stone will you employ for your columns?"
"I thought to use our ordinary Rhodian brownstone. It's not very pretty, but it works, and who cares what columns inside a statue look like?"
"Sandstone doesn't weather very well," said Straton.
"But the columns will be shielded from the weather by the statue's skin."
"Ah, but the skin will leak, unless you provide means for inspecting it and calking the seams. And how will you do that with so tall a statue? Nobody will pay to put up a seventy-cubit scaffold every few years, and thus neglect and decay will have their will of your masterpiece. Besides, your iron bracing will corrode away even faster than the stone if it be not well protected."
"Now that you mention it, I ought to give more thought to maintenance," I said. "The gilding on the crown may also need to be renewed. How would it be to provide a set of ladder rungs, running up the inside of the drapery and the left arm to the shoulder? With a few additional handholds and a rope tackle, one could reach all parts of the statue."
Thus swiftly fled the evening. The next day I spent in working on a copy of the bust of Ptolemaios, which I had made on my previous sojourn. This was for the statue of the king in the Ptolemaeion at Rhodes. I also measured the king, after persuading him that if the statue showed him seated on his throne, the squat build about which he was self-conscious would not be evident.
That evening I dined in Manethôs ' apartment on the palace grounds. The apartment was decorated, in contrast to those of the king's Hellenic officials, with frescoes of Egyptians in linen skirts, animal-headed gods, and ritual texts in sacred picture writing.
Nembto rushed up and touched her nose to mine. "How nice see you, Chares!"
Manethôs showed me around. He was living well, with two servants. In one small room sat Onas' son, doing his homework. Manethôs ' bedroom including a double bed and an obviously feminine dressing table. Following my glance, Manethôs said:
"Know, my friend, that an Egyptian priest is allowed but one wife. How was Demetrios' party?"
I told the priest of my discourse with Eukleides and Straton, adding: "Philemon and Hekataios were there, too."
"That Hekataios!" said Manethôs indignantly. "His book on Egypt is so full of error and inaccuracy that I shall have to write one myself, as once I swore to do, if I can ever get enough time off from my duties."
He explained what a busy fellow he was. To unify Ptolemaios' subjects, he and the king had some mysterious plan, at which he would only hint, for merging the Egyptian Osiris and the Greek Plouton into one god, to be worshiped as Sarapis by the folk of both races. I wondered what the gods thought of it, but then nobody asked them.
"And speaking of my oath to write a history of Egypt in Greek," he said, "have you heard aught of Berosos?"
"At last accounts he was still in Kôs. My father's friend, Tryphon the silk weaver, knows him slightly."
"I must write him. Is he still living with Amenardis?"
"I suppose so. And, speaking of her, was the rascally Tis ever caught?"
"Not he! There is a rumor that he is in Alexandria, having changed his name and appearance. They also say that he is the new archthief of the Province of the Western Harpoon, the old one having been murdered last year."
"Hm! Of course, Alexandrian gossip is not notorious for accuracy, but perhaps I had better not go strolling down dark alleys at night."
We passed on to other matters. I mentioned the remark of Demetrios Phalereus about the lack of any pressing need for Rhodian timber.
"Let him not daunt you," said Manethôs . "That is but his opening move, to beat down your price. In confidence, the kingdom starves for good timber, because King Demetrios controls the Phoenician ports through which the Lebanese timber comes. Moreover, King Seleukos is busily founding cities in Syria and buys up all the Lebanese timber to be had." The priest smiled wryly. "Of course, as a faithful servant of King Ptolemaios, it is my duty to help him to buy the timber cheaply. But, as your friend, it is my duty to help you to sell it dear, and I knew you first. Ah, here comes dinner. Nembto, my dear, you have outshone yourself."
The next few days were occupied, first, in copying the bust of the king in clay and, secondly, in haggling with Demetrios Phalereus over the sale of our timber. Fortified by Manethôs ' words, I held out for a stiff price.
The bargaining was not made easier by the official Rhodian ambassadors. They had assigned me the task because I knew Demetrios Phalereus. Then, in our private meetings, they harangued me, urging me not to hold out for too high a price and spoil the deal, not to let Demetrios Phalereus beat me down too quickly, not to let my notorious impatience sway me, and so on.
"Zeus ruin the lot of you!" I burst out at last. "If you think you can do better, take over the task. I'm an artist, not a shopkeeper, and I'll thank you not to make any more snide remarks about my Phoenician blood, either. To negotiate with you bags of wind bawling advice in one's ears is like trying to chisel a marble with people jogging one's elbow."
Thereafter Damophilos and the rest let me handle matters in my own way. I finally got a good offer and closed the deal. When we had shipped all the timber that had not otherwise been disposed of, it brought us around ninety talents.
The king, who had been on a short vacation, returned and gave the inevitable banquet of state for the Rhodians. Damophilos pledged the prosperity of Egypt, and the king pledged the beauty of the City of Roses. Then Damophilos said: