But when, thus reflecting, I had reached the Painted Porch, I saw a great number of men gathered together, some inside, in the porch itself, a number in the court, and one or two sitting on the seats bawling and straining their lungs. Guessing (as was indeed the case) that they were philosophers of the disputatious order, I decided to stop and hear what they were saying, and as I happened to be wrapped im one of my thick clouds, I dressed myself after their style and lengthened my beard with a pull, making myself very like a philosopher; then, elbowing the rabble aside, I went in without being recognized. I found the Epicurean Damis, that sly rogue, and Timocles the Stoic, the best man in the world, disputing madly : at least Timocles was sweating and had worn his voice out with shouting, while Damnis with his sardonic laughter was making him more and more excited.