all the doors, although he continued to allow him his pension as before. XXXVI. This treatment was in itself sufficiently grievous to Kleomenes, and made him fear that something worse was in store. Now Ptolemy, the son of Chrysermes, who was a friend of the king's, had always been on good terms with Kleomenes, and they had been in the habit of conversing familiarly together. This man now, at Kleomenes's own request, came to see him, and talked amicably with him, explaining away all which had appeared suspicious about the king's conduct. As he was leaving the house, without noticing that Kleomenes had followed him to the door, he harshly reproved the guard for keeping such careless watch over so great and savage a monster. Kleomenes himself heard him say this, and before Ptolemy observed him, retired and told his friends what he had heard. They at once abandoned all hope, and fiercely determined to avenge themselves on Ptolemy for his wickedness and arrogance, and die as became Spartans, not wait to be butchered like fat cattle. They thought that it was intolerable that Kleomenes should have disdained to make terms with Antigonus, who was a soldier and a man of action, and should sit waiting for the pleasure of a timbrel-playing king, who as soon as he was at leisure from his kettle-drummings and revellings, intended to murder him. XXXVII. As soon as they had formed this resolution, as it happened that Ptolemy had gone to Canopus, they spread a report that the king had given orders for the guard to be removed. Next, observing the custom of the kings of Egypt, which was to send a dinner and various presents to those who are about to be released from confinement, the friends of Kleomenes prepared many presents of this kind and sent them to him, deceiving the guard, who believed that they had been sent by the king. Kleomenes offered sacrifice, and gave the soldiers on guard an ample share of the meat, while he himself put on a garland and feasted with his friends. It is said that they proceeded to action sooner than had been originally intended, because Kleomenes perceived that one of the servants who was in the plot had left the house, though he had only gone to visit his mistress. Fearing that he meant to denounce them, as soon as it was noon, and the guard were sleeping off their wine, Kleomenes put on his tunic, slit up the seam over the right shoulder, seized his naked sword, and sallied forth with his friends similarly arrayed, thirteen in all. One of them named Hippitas, who was lame, came boldly out with the rest, but finding that they proceeded slowly to enable him to keep up with them, begged them to kill him, and not spoil their plot by waiting for a useless man. It happened that one of the Alexandrians was leading a horse past the door; they at once took it, placed Hippitas on its back, and ran quickly through the streets, calling upon the populace to rise and set itself free. The people, it appears, had spirit