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‘Do you know Lalagē, daughter of Sardon?’ I asked. The result of this innocent question was dramatic. Hermippē lost her composure, became pale, and sat down abruptly on a nearby stone bench. Surprised by this, I asked Hermippē if I might sit by her on the bench. She gestured for me to join her.
‘Yes, I do know Lalagē, very well.’ she said. ‘Her mother died when she was thirteen, and she turned to me. Despite the loss of her mother, she showed great generosity of spirit. Not to mention her gaiety. But she has recently become fascinated by one of the new mystery religions. She sets aside our traditional rites. She laughs at the Panathenæic festival. She thinks that the ordinary pieties are so much superstition and hypocrisy, spending money for prestige and habit, and lining the pockets of the temple administrators.’
‘Isn’t there some truth in that, Hermippē?’ I asked.
‘Oh yes,’ she said. ‘Of course there is. But Lalagē is so intense. She talks of values of the spirit in a way which I cannot properly understand: recently, in this very garden, she began an oration, standing up and saying: ‘The Truth! Where is the Truth?’ looking around as though she were addressing an audience, though I was the only other person here. She put her hand on her breast and went on: “Here, here is the Truth. It is in each one of us,” as though addressing an audience. Then she relaxed and laughed in her infectious way, and said that everything in the world would be well if we all loved and respected each other. That is why I was so taken aback when you asked about her just as I was showing you the “inner eye” plant from Egypt.
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