The Nemesis: A Tale Of The Days Of Trajan.

gorgeous taste , Phryne . Thy husband ' s table will be the talk and envy of Rome . " " These Romans , with all their pretensions know not how to live , '' said Murtius , contemptuously . " Teach them how to eat and drink decently , and

thou wilt do them more good than all their philosophers' musty wisdom . Bring me some Chian wine , and bind a fillet around my temples , for they throb like fire . " Phryne went forth from the chamber with a

quick step to obey his commands , while he turned to Lais and said" Ah , Lais , thou art still passable , my wench . Not half so pretty , though , as thy sister was . But thou wilt yet do . "

Lais vouchsafed no answer to these words , although her bitten lips , and the cold gleam in her treacherous eye told how they had struck to iier proud soul . " " The drunken dotard , " she muttered , " had I

but gold enough , I would this moment leave him ; but as it is , the store which through these many years I have gathered , increased from the wealth of Caius , will make me rich , and in some distant clime , Myra and I will end our days in peace . "

"I love my Phryne , " Murtius maundered . " She can give me gold , and long and pleasant clays . Ah , youth was sweet , spent in my sunny Greece , with many friends , now long , long dead . Peace to their manes , peace . I love them well ,

my comrades in the search of Divine philosophy . Ah , love is not , nor pleasure either , half so sweet as fame . Would I were back to Greece , " he cried , in accents of inexpressible desire . " I longonce more to gaze npon its lofty mountains and

upon its azure main , to watch the stars appear upon a heaven clear as my heart was once . But now , it is vain such longings . Shame rests

upon my name , and boys , but little prattling chubby boys , speak of me as a sinner worse than any that shriek in Phlegethon . More wine , pour out more wine . Let us drink , and drown all our cares . "

Phryne entered , bearing a jar of Chian wine , her features pale with a high resolve . " Glorious Chian ! " exclaimed Murtius , as she filled his goblet , " flush it forth . See how it trickles to the brim like an answer from the gods .

Drink , Lais , it is superb ; and Phryne , drink . Be merry , for it is good wine . Here's to thee , girl , and many a bumper may we live to drain . More wine . "

Phryne did not answer this challenge , but while Lais and Murtius kept drinking the wine , she lay back on her couch muttering'' Gorge yourselves to the full , you drink unto your deaths . In half-an-hour the flames will reach

us here , and on the morrow naught remain to tell of the fierce justice meted them . Myra , thy future life is saved from woe . " "More wine , my Phryne , " cried Murtius . " Sing me one song , and let it be a song of

Greece , to match our Grecian wine . " Phryne took up her lyre , and to its accompani . ment , sang the following stanzas : —

" To live a life of ease befits The Grecian soldier—never ; He dies upon the field of fame To live in glory—ever . He leaves to slaves the shepherd ' s crook ; His are the sivord -and shield ;

The heaven above his canopy ; His bed tbe battle field . His country threaten'd , heeding not His wife and children ' s tears ; He takes the laurel from the foe , Or dies upon their spears . "

"Right , " exclaimed Murtius , " such-are my countrymen . Leonidas , Epaminondas , all the greatest hearts belong to Greece . And when they will after tell how such one did mighty things , they will add ' his was a soul cast in a Grecian

mould . ' Thanks , Phryne , for thy song . Wine , give me wine . I feel chilly . " "So do I , " said Lais , draining off her goblet . "I feel a coldness at the heart . " " The poison , " murmured Phryne , " works in both their veins ; mine hour of vengeance now approaches with swift steps . "

"More wine , " cried Murtius , holding his forehead . " I feel a wilder thirst , the offcener I touch the wine cup . I am fire within . Ah , " he exclaimed , as a cold shudder ran through his frame" My sight is darkening , " said Lais , with an

undefined fear playing around her heart , "my throat burns as if scorched with lightning . You do not drink , Phryne . " Phryne turned upon her with a deadly eye , and pouring out some wine from a different jar from

that which contained the Chian , she stood up . " I have not drunk yet , Lais , but now I shall , and with this cup—come , good wine deserves a good toast—so let us drink to—Death . " " To Decit / i I" exclaimed Murtius and Lais in tones of terrible consternation .