lty? I comprehend all your anger,
I feel it to be just, and it was not my fault that this outrage took
place; but you know that kings are mighty, they descend from a divine
race. Our destinies repose on their august knees; and it is not
we, feeble mortals, who may hesitate at their commands. Their will
overthrows our refusal, as a dyke is swept away by a torrent By your
feet that I kiss, by the hem of your robe which I touch as a suppliant,
be clement! Forget this injury, which is known to none, and which shall
remain eternally buried in darkness and silence! Candaules worships you,
admires you, and his fault springs only from an excess of love.'

'Were you addressing a sphinx of granite in the arid sands of Egypt,
you would have more chance of melting her. The winged words might fly
uninterruptedly from your lips for a whole Olympiad; you could not move
my resolution in the slightest. A heart of brass dwells in this marble
breast of mine. Die or kill! When the sunbeam which has passed through
the curtains shall touch the foot of this table let your choice have
been made. I wait.'

And Nyssia crossed her arms upon her breast in an attitude replete with
sombre majesty.

To behold her standing erect, motionless and pale, her eyes fixed, her
brows contracted, her hair in disorder, her foot firmly placed upon
the pavement, one would have taken her for Nemesis descended from her
griffin, and awaiting the hour to smite a guilty one.

'The shadowy depths of Hades are visited by none with pleasure,'
answered Gyges. 'It is sweet to enjoy the pure light of day; and the
heroes themselves who dwell in the Fortunate Isles would gladly return
to their native land. Each man has the instinct of self-preservation,
and since blood must flow, let it be rather from the veins of another
than from mine.'

To these sentiments, avowed by Gyges with antique frankness, were added
others more noble whereof he did not speak. He was desperately in love
with Nyssia and jealous of Candaules. It was not, therefore, the fear
of death alone that had induced him to undertake this bloody task.
The thought of leaving Candaules in free possession of Nyssia was
insupportable to him: and, moreover, the vertigo of fatality had seized
him. By a succession of irregular and terrible events he beheld himself
hurried toward the realisation of his dreams; a mighty wave had lifted
him and borne him on in despite of his efforts; Nyssia herself was
extending her