o, and it cost her almost as much for her own sake to dismiss
the young man as it did to see him move away, slowly and languidly
staggering to his doom.

For the next few days messages came continually, urging her to haste to a
youth dying for her sake, whom her presence would revive effectually. She
steadily refused, but how much her refusal cost her! She wept, she wrung
her hands, she called for death and execrated her nurture. With that
strange appetite for self-torment which almost seems to diminish the pangs
of the wretched, she collected books on poisons, studied all the symptoms
described, and fancied her hapless lover undergoing them all in turn. At
length a message came which admitted of no evasion. The King commanded her
presence. Admonished by past experience, she provided herself with a veil
and mask, and repaired to the palace.

The old King seemed labouring under deep affliction; under happier
circumstances he must have been joyous and debonair. He addressed her with
austerity, yet with kindness.

"Maiden," he began, "thy unaccountable cruelty to my son----"

"Thy son!" she exclaimed, "The Prince! O father, thou art avenged for my
disobedience!"

"Surpasses what history hath hitherto recorded of the most obdurate
monsters. Thou art indebted to him for thy honour, to preserve which he has
risked his life. Thou bringest him to the verge of the grave by thy
cruelty, and when a smile, a look from thee would restore him, thou wilt
not bestow it."

"Alas! great King," she replied, "I know too well what your Majesty's
opinion of me must be. I must bear it as I may. Believe me, the sight of me
could effect nothing towards the restoration of thy son."

"Of that I shall judge," said the King, "when thou hast divested thyself of
that veil and mask."

Mithridata reluctantly complied.

"By Heaven!" exclaimed the King, "such a sight might recall the departing
soul from Paradise. Haste to my son, and instantly; it is not yet too
late."

"O King," urged Mithridata, "how could this countenance do thy son any
good? Is he not suffering from the effects of seventy-two poisons?"

"I am not aware of that," said the King.

"Are not his entrails burned up with fire? Is not his flesh in a state of
deliquescence? Has not his skin already peeled off his body? Is he not
tormented by incessant gripes and vomitings?"

"Not to my knowledge," said the King. "The symptoms, as I understand, are
not unlike those which I re