Tears flowed down the lad’s cheeks as he threw himself on his knees before Gyges, crying, “At the stables without thy protection they will kill me.” “And why?” asked the master. “They hate a Greek slave,” answered the boy. “But thy back is not healed.” “I can run and jump. See!” he said, as he ran and jumped around the room, concealing his pain like a little Stoic. “Rest content; thou mayst go with me,” relented Gyges. The little slave nearly danced with joy. “O Nana,” continued Gyges, “I know not what to do. Who will now care for my horses? They know my walk, my every motion. Their gentle eyes follow me whenever I am with them. They place their noses against my face and caress me like human beings.” “They were restless when I left the stable, O master. They missed thee,” said Aldo. “Ah, Ambrosia, Phaeo, Zephyrus, and Notus, who will love you as I did? But come, Nana!” he quickly called. “A light! I must write two letters!” Nana took a small terra-cotta lamp and preceded Gyges into the small dining-room. “How much money hast thou?” asked Gyges. “I have paid nothing for the household furniture. I still have the money,” replied the faithful Nana. “Then give it me,” he gently commanded. Nana left the room. When she returned, Gyges had finished a short order. “Take this to the banker Tullius, at the Basilica Aemelia. That will procure for thee enough money to keep thee.” “How long wilt thou be gone?” asked Nana, anxiously. “I know not, my Nana,” replied Gyges. “Whither goest thou?” “’Tis best thou shouldst not know,” answered the young master, sadly. He now wrote another letter for Alvarus at the stables. “Send this to the Circus Maximus,” he ordered. “Let no one know it came from here.” He arose and cried in a plaintive tone: “Ah, that I should be obliged to leave Psyche! But I may do more for her by being free. ’Tis best that I should go. Come, Aldo! Guard well this little home, my Nana. Care for it as if Psyche and I were to enter it on the morrow.” “That will I do, O Gyges,” said Nana, weeping. “Pray for her, O Nana! Pray for me,” he softly said. “Come, Aldo,” he added. “We must go. Go thou by the Via Latina to Tusculum and await me there at the theatre entrance. Here is some money. Beg thy way. Use the money only when necessary. Keep thy lips sealed. I shall be at Tusculum at midday on the morrow. Fare thee well, my Nana.” “The gods guard thy life, O my Gyges!” sobbed the good woman.