Speech was forbidden here, and their steps fell noiseless on the thick, heavy mats.
Most of the beds were already empty; only those between the long wall and the nearest row of columns were still for the most part occupied by the sick who sought the help of the god.

On one of these Diodoros was laid, Melissa helping in silence, and with such skill as delighted even the physicians.

Still, this did not wake him, though on the next bed lay a man who never ceased speaking, because in his dream he had been bidden to repeat the name of Serapis as many times as there were drops in a cup of water filled from the Agathodaemon Canal.
"A long stay in this strong perfume will be bad for him," whispered Ptolemaeus to the freedman.

"Galenus sent word that he would visit the sick early to-day; but he is not here yet.

He is an old man, and in Rome, they say, it is the custom to sleep late." He was interrupted by a stir in the long hall, which broke in on the silence, no one knew from whence; and immediately after, officious hands threw open the great double doors with a loud noise.
"He is coming," whispered their priestly guide; and the instant after an old man crossed the threshold, followed by a troop of pastophori, as obsequious as the courtiers at the heels of a prince.
"Gently, brothers," murmured the greatest physician of his age in a low voice, as, leaning on a staff, he went toward the row of couches.