“Wait thou a moment. When the meal was half over, Latiaris addressed my father, praising him for his constancy in his loyalty to the oppressed family of Agrippina. He spoke at the same time commending words about Germanicus and bemoaned the fate of Agrippina. My father, who worshipped Germanicus and who loved the children of that wonderful man, was so affected by the words of Latiaris that he burst into tears. Carried away by his emotion, he spoke against Sejanus; nor did Tiberius escape his invectives.” “Is it, then, forbidden the Romans to praise their friends and criticise the conduct of the rulers?” “Ay, my Merope. Such fear now hovers over all the great houses in Rome that no one trusts another. But hearken to what follows. While my father uttered the words against the emperor, he heard muffled voices in the adjoining room. He feigned sickness, quickly left his couch, drew aside the curtain, and entered the room from which the sound had come. He beheld there his worst enemies.” “Oh, what a cruel plot!” exclaimed Merope. “The sight of those men was my father’s death-warrant. I know not what happened after that horrible disclosure in the house of Latiaris. When he returned home, he called me and ordered me to leave the city at once. He gave me an order to sell at Athens his estates in Greece. With money thus obtained, he hopes to save his family from poverty; for at his death everything will be confiscated. With tears in his eyes, he bade me farewell. ‘I shall never see thee again, O my son, my son!’ were his last words. Ah, Merope, those who are able are leaving the city. Informers are everywhere. Mayhap even our conversation may be reported.” Merope cautiously looked around them, but no one was near. “Truly, such stories frighten me,” she said. “And, Merope, people are ofttimes charged with saying words that were never uttered by them.” “When will this terror cease?” “I know not, O Merope--but look at the beautiful mountains. Oh, would that the spirit which dwells in those lofty heights and that which has seen history blossom and die, would speak to doubting and tormented hearts!” “Rather, would that life would always be as gentle as this sea,” she slowly said. “But how long shall we be at Athens?” “When the estates are sold, we shall go to Crete. In a few days my family sail for that historic island. But come, let us try to throw off our sadness. Those laughing eyes must be as bright as the sky and not dimmed with tears. At Athens we will drink of new wine and be happy in forgetting the world. Wilt thou not be glad to see Athens?” “Ay; we shall see pure Greeks there.” “Ay; we shall see some Greek dancers.” “Dost thou remember Psyche, O Sabinus?” “The little Greek dancer at Pompey’s Theatre? Ay, that do I.” “I have often wondered what she did to be arrested?” “Is she not yet free?” “Nay; Elea and I walked to her home some time since. We found the door broken open and the house bare of everything.”