ou do this?'

'Yes; but not for reward.'

'What then?'

'For love I bear to her.'

'Very well. Be it so. Lose no time. She is already under a sentence of
death, and will die. Go! go! Great God! what a death. Oh that I might
die for her! The Ephesians gathered together to make sport--to make
sport of Saronia the beautiful, my love! Polluted by the touch of a
coarse gaoler. A sight to gratify the Romans, a jest for the rabble of
Ephesus, and a cruel death ending all. She who has wielded the sceptre
of power, highest and brightest among the women of Ionia, commanded
spirits in legions from the underworld, stopped the eagles in their
flight, turned the courses of the clouds, baring the face of the silvery
moon; she who has dropped the sceptre of this power, and robed herself
with a trust in God--shall she be forsaken? No, no! It cannot be so. If
she could breathe out her life supported by these arms of mine; if I
could but close her lovely eyes in death and kiss her whitening brow,
then could I fall also asleep and awake to meet her on the other shore.'

'Chios!' said the Proconsul, interrupting the Greek. 'How fares my
friend? I have news for thee.'

'Good, or evil?'

'Judge thou. The Roman fleet, under the command of Lucius, is in the
offing. Their numbers crowd the sea.'

'Lucius! The fleet! Lucius!' exclaimed Chios.

'True; Lucius is almost here.'

'Why comes there such a multitude of ships?' said Chios. 'Is there
reason?'

'There may be. This much I confide in thee: ere many hours have passed,
the mighty walls of this great city will glisten with the spears of
Roman men, in number such as Ephesus has never seen since Claudian ruled
or Nero wielded power. To-morrow will be a great day--the streets so
full of Roman soldiers that standing-room will not be left for rioters.'

'What does this portend?'

'Nothing save a military show of Roman power. Nevertheless, thou wilt do
well to keep within doors _to-morrow_.'

'Why?'

'Because I wish it so. Thou wilt be at home to-morrow, eh, Chios? Chios,
dost hear me?'

'I hear thee, but will not obey. Dost think I could remain here
to-morrow, when it is the day for Saronia's murder? and thou, too, hast
consented to this deed of shame. Roman, Roman, thou art false!'

'Peace, Chios! Peace! What I have promised thee, I will do. Hast thou
Chian wine? Bring it forth; let us quaff it together.

'Now hark ye. I go back to Rome. I hate this place. The associations ar