“I don’t like to think of them raking blood off the sand,” I said, looking at the sand, which seemed so clean and innocent. “I don’t like to think of the Romans doing it either.”

“The problem with only giving you art that shows good people doing good things is that it makes you uncompromising, and doesn’t give you useful examples,” Ficino said. “This isn’t a dark secret. It’s open to everyone.”

As if to demonstrate this, a group of ephebes came in and, after greeting us politely, started to race around the outside of the circuit, exactly as my friends and I would in the palaestra at home.

We walked back through the city. I realized this time that the houses near the agora were larger and better-built than the ones further away. The smaller ones didn’t have glass in their windows, just wooden shutters. I saw a woman in a courtyard bent over, turning a stone on another stone. “What’s she doing?” I asked.

Ficino looked. “Grinding wheat.”

“They don’t have Workers, or electricity,” I said.

“They don’t even have wind or water mills, which we used to grind wheat to flour in my time. They’re starting without our technological base.”

Just then another woman came out into the courtyard and started to berate the woman turning the stone. We moved away.

“They have social classes,” I said.

“Yes,” Ficino agreed.

“And money. And wealth and poverty.”

“They started with adults who knew those things,” Ficino said. “That must have made it difficult.”

“Are they pursuing excellence?” I asked.

Ficino looked at me approvingly. “That’s the question I’ve been asking myself. They haven’t said they are. They talk about rescuing people and spreading their civilization. But they haven’t mentioned excellence at all. And in the discussion just now, did you notice how much of what they said was about politics?”

“You kept asking about philosophy, and they always answered in terms of politics,” I said. It was clear, now that I thought about it.

Ficino nodded. “I can’t help thinking about Kebes, how stubborn he was. These cities are more than just Kebes, and they’re clearly very influenced by the culture of the people they rescued, as well as what the Goodness brought. Do you remember your project on how to tell how philosophical a city is?”

I remembered it very well. I nodded.

“How would you assess this one?” We stepped out of the way of a man leading a laden donkey.

“The people you were debating with seemed to understand rhetoric, and to want to debate. But they don’t have a library,” I said. “Of course, one of the things they want from us is books, and it must be very difficult without.”