ow once more
alive to ambition--there, amongst nations uncrushed by the Roman yoke,
and to whose ear the name of Rome has not yet been wafted, I may found
an empire, and transplant my ancestral creed; renewing the ashes of the
dead Theban rule; continuing in yet grander shores the dynasty of my
crowned fathers, and waking in the noble heart of Ione the grateful
consciousness that she shares the lot of one who, far from the aged
rottenness of this slavish civilization, restores the primal elements of
greatness, and unites in one mighty soul the attributes of the prophet
and the king.' From this exultant soliloquy, Arbaces was awakened to
attend the trial of the Athenian.

The worn and pallid cheek of his victim touched him less than the
firmness of his nerves and the dauntlessness of his brow; for Arbaces
was one who had little pity for what was unfortunate, but a strong
sympathy for what was bold. The congenialities that bind us to others
ever assimilate to the qualities of our own nature. The hero weeps less
at the reverses of his enemy than at the fortitude with which he bears
them. All of us are human, and Arbaces, criminal as he was, had his
share of our common feelings and our mother clay. Had he but obtained
from Glaucus the written confession of his crime, which would, better
than even the judgment of others, have lost him with Ione, and removed
from Arbaces the chance of future detection, the Egyptian would have
strained every nerve to save his rival. Even now his hatred was
over--his desire of revenge was slaked: he crushed his prey, not in
enmity, but as an obstacle in his path. Yet was he not the less
resolved, the less crafty and persevering, in the course he pursued, for
the destruction of one whose doom was become necessary to the attainment
of his objects: and while, with apparent reluctance and compassion, he
gave against Glaucus the evidence which condemned him, he secretly, and
through the medium of the priesthood, fomented that popular indignation
which made an effectual obstacle to the pity of the senate. He had
sought Julia; he had detailed to her the confession of Nydia; he had
easily, therefore, lulled any scruple of conscience which might have led
her to extenuate the offence of Glaucus by avowing her share in his
frenzy: and the more readily, for her vain heart had loved the fame and
the prosperity of Glaucus--not Glaucus himself, she felt no affection
for a disgraced man--nay, she almost r