‘Yes, Alkibiades, and she has left a son.’ The purple sails had fallen as they neared the harbour. He would have fallen, too, but his friend caught him, and held him for a time. This friend, the riotous companion of so many bouts and frolics, this careless dog, good for a night’s convivial merriment, was overcome at the sight of such grief as he had never seen before. Alkibiades went home in silence. He desired to be alone. Amykla met him at the door. Cries of grief came to him across the courtyard, where the fountain splashed as ever, the white peacocks, his especial pride, sunning themselves around its basin, and the notes of lamentation sounded through the house. The women were about her room mourning and crying their wailing ‘Aiai!’ of lament. He sternly put them out. There he stayed alone with her he had left, so short a time before, full of love and fond caresses, and hopes that she would soon bring him a son to bear his name and carry on the noblest house in Greece for ever. There she lay, pale and still, with a faint smile upon her face, as though knowing she had done her duty, though she had died in doing it. We fear we have dwelt too long over this mere private matter, and kept the reader waiting for Sicilian affairs, which are, indeed, important, and the turning-point in the history of Athens. For some time he mourned as he thought of his past life—the neglect, more than neglect, with which he had so often treated her; the suffering she had endured in silence; her gentleness, devotion, and forgiveness—but he kept his grief shut up within him. It was his business to direct his countrymen, and never was there such an opportunity. An Assembly was held towards the end of April, to consider finally the Sicilian question. The people were almost unanimous for a warlike expedition. Few dare say anything against it. Nikias, fearful and doubting as usual, whispered his fears. His supporters were afraid to run counter to the people. They dreaded lest their hesitation might be put down to cowardice, or to a mean desire to escape the burden of furnishing their proper portion of the fleet. Everybody expected Nikias would oppose whatever Alkibiades proposed, so they paid the less attention to his sad forebodings, as they raised their voices in approbation of the motion that sixty triremes should be at once got ready. Then they elected the generals. Nikias, Lamachos, and Alkibiades were chosen. This was the first time he had been elected to such high duties. Before this, as strategos, he had been twice sent with a small force into the Peloponnesos, once with twenty triremes to the relief of Argos. He had often gone on embassies, but hitherto he had been thought too young to share the command of such an armament as this.