hen,
regaining her impassible severity of mien, she continued: 'Do not
imagine you will be able to steal away this time as you did before;
you know my sight is piercing. At the slightest movement on your part I
shall awake Candaules; and you know that it will not be easy for you to
explain what you are doing in the king's apartments, behind a door, with
a poniard in your hand. Further, my Bactrian slaves, the copper-coloured
mutes who imprisoned you a short time ago, guard all the issues of
the palace, with orders to massacre you should you attempt to go out.
Therefore let no vain scruples of fidelity cause you to hesitate. Think
that I will make you King of Sardes, and that... I will love you if you
avenge me. The blood of Candaules will be your purple, and his death
will make for you a place in that bed.'

The slaves came according to their custom to change the fuel in the
tripod, renew the oil in the lamps, spread tapestry and the skins of
animals upon the royal couch; and Nyssia hurried into the chamber as
soon as she heard their footsteps resounding in the distance.

In a short time Candaules arrived all joyous. He had purchased the bed
of Ikmalius and proposed to substitute it for the bed wrought after the
Oriental fashion, which he declared had never been much to his taste.
He seemed pleased to find that Nyssia had already retired to the nuptial
chamber.

'The trade of embroidery, and spindles, and needles seems not to have
the same attraction for you to-day as usual. In fact, it is a monotonous
labour to perpetually pass one thread between other threads, and I
wonder at the pleasure which you seem ordinarily to take in it. To tell
the truth, I am afraid that some fine day Pallas-Athene, on finding you
so skilful, will break her shuttle over your head as she once did to
poor Arachne.'

'My lord, I felt somewhat tired this evening, and so came downstairs
sooner than usual. Would you not like before going to sleep to drink
a cup of black Samian wine mixed with the honey of Hymettus?' And
she poured from a golden urn, into a cup of the same metal, the
sombre-coloured beverage which she had mingled with the soporiferous
juice of the nepenthe.

Candaules took the cup by both handles and drained it to the last drop;
but the young Heracleid had a strong head, and sinking his elbow into
the cushions of his couch he watched Nyssia undressing without any sign
that the dust of sleep was commencing to gather upon his e