One after another the wealthy Phaedons sneered, noses pinched. They waved the wood of scented fans in front of their faces and held small pieces of perfumed cloth up to cover their mouths and noses. Some complained out loud with flabby jowls about the stench. Their comments implied that they believed the prisoners were responsible for their unsanitary conditions and that their unkempt cages were a sign of the captive’s lower nature. The guards and attendants responded to the complaints by filling buckets with water and scented oils and throwing them onto the prisoners, much to the delight of the Phaedons.
Some of these visitors stopped and stood in front of their cage window, examining Biro and Csoda in stoic silence, hands clasped behind their backs. Some pointed and chatted with each ot
