And lastly, Aétion shall give her Roxana’s lips, Nay, we can do better: have we not. Homer, best of painters, though a Euphranor and an Apelles be present? Let him colour all like the limbs of Menelaus, which he says were ‘ivory tinged with red.’ He too shall paint her calm ‘ox-eyes,’ and the Theban poet shall help him to give them their ‘violet’ hue. Homer shall add her smile, her white arms, her rosy finger-tips, and so complete the resemblance to golden Aphrodite, to whom he has compared Brises’ daughter with far less reason.
So far we may trust our sculptors and painters and poets: but for her crowning glory, for the grace—nay, the choir of Graces and Loves that encircle her—who shall portray them?
