Never had enterprise been supported by more general consent; and from the first Alkibiades had been the life and soul of it. But just before this time a silent grief, such as he had never known before, had fallen upon him, and for a time had checked his ardour. Not that it had blinded him to the advantages which the undertaking might, if well carried out, bring to Athens, or stayed his efforts for his country’s good; but it had sobered him, it was so new to him. It made him pause and wonder if the objects of his high ambition, when obtained, and the fulfilment of his hopes, when realized, would be worth so very much. On his return from Argos, somewhat saddened by the failure of his treaty with that state through the defeat at Mantineia, he had found more happiness in the quiet converse with his wife than he had felt before. He was getting older; some of the pleasures of his earlier years had lost their interest. She, too, needed consolation. Ephialtes, their first-born, their only child, had died while her husband was away at Argos. On his return she clung to him with a stronger love than ever. He was touched by the tenderness, the forbearance, she had shown to him in his wanderings, his frolics, his dissipation. He felt now, come what might from enemies rising up around him, and whether all his hopes were realized or not, there was one at home to comfort him and receive him as a hero. This short time that he could give to her was certainly the calmest, perhaps not the least happy, he had throughout the remnant of his troubled life. But he could not stay long with her. His private affairs obliged him to go off to Ephesos at the opening of the spring. In his newly-built and wonderfully-constructed trireme, the _Eros_, the most sumptuous ship yet built for any Greek, with its great eyes peering from the bows, and the image of the boy-god, from whom it took its name, carved cunningly upon the stern, with the bows and arrows of that deity wrought among wreaths and festoons of roses all along the sides, he sailed for Ephesos. A fair wind filled the purple sails, which had figures of the god of love worked in silver on them, and bore him like a conqueror to the port of Ephesos. And like a conqueror the Ephesians received the greatest man of Athens, the victor at the pan-Hellenic games. He forgot the rebuff his hopes had met at Mantineia while he spent his pleasant time in that splendid town, and having done his business there, in like manner he returned to Athens. His friend Polytion was looking out for him. He put off to meet the _Eros_ as soon as the well-known purple sails were seen approaching in the east. There was an effort of cheerfulness about Polytion as he came on board. Yet no—yes, there was no doubt something was wrong. ‘What is it, man? Speak! say at once! No good trying to hide it. Quick! Tell me, is all well?’ ‘No, Alkibiades, all is not well. Your wife——’ ‘Not dead, ye gods? Not dead?’