All she saw, heard, and felt, was soothing to her mind; never had she seen or tasted juicier peaches, richer bunches of grapes, fresher almonds or more tempting cakes; on the shrubs in the garden and on the grass-plots between the paths there was not a dead leaf, not a dry stem, not the tiniest weed.

The buds were swelling on the tall trees, shrubs without end were covered with blossoms--white, blue, yellow, and red--while, among the smooth, shining leaves of the orange and lemon trees, gleamed the swelling fruit.

On a round tank close at hand some black swans were noiselessly tracing evanescent circles and uttering their strange lament.

The song of birds mingled with the plash of fountains, and even the marble statues, for all that they were dumb, seemed to be enjoying the sweet morning air and the stir and voice of nature.
Yes, she could be happy here; as she peeled a peach and slowly swallowed the soft fragrant mouthfuls, she laughed to remember the hard ship's-biscuit, of the two previous days' fare.

And it was Gorgo's privilege to revel in these good things day after day, year after year.
It was like living in Eden, in the perpetual spring of man's first blissful home on earth.