"I was not sensible of it," said Calasiris, "owing, I suppose, partly to the dulness of my hearing, the common malady of age, and partly to my being intent on what I was saying. But I fancy the stir you hear is occasioned by the return of Nausicles, the master of the house; I am impatient to know how he has succeeded."--"In every thing as I could wish, my dear Calasiris," said Nausicles, who entered at that moment. "I know how solicitous you were for my success, and how your best wishes accompanied me. I have many proofs of your good will towards me, and among others the words which I have just heard you uttering. But who is this stranger?"--"A Greek," said Calasiris; "what farther regards him you shall hear another time; but pray relate to us your success, that we may be partakers in your joy." "You shall hear all in the morning," replied Nausicles: "at present let it suffice you to know, that I have obtained a fairer Thisbe than ever; for myself, wearied with cares and fatigues, I must now take a little repose." Having said this, he retired to rest. Cnemon was struct at hearing the name of Thisbe; racking his mind with anxiety, he passed a sleepless night, nor could he at intervals restrain his sighs and groans, which at last awakened Calasiris, who lay near, from a sound sleep. The old man, raising himself upon his elbow, asked him what was the matter with him, and why he vented his complaints in that almost frantic manner. "Is it not enough to drive me mad," replied Cnemon, "when I hear that Thisbe is alive?"--"And who is this Thisbe?" said Calasiris, "and how came you acquainted with her? and why are you disturbed at supposing her to be alive?"--"You shall hear at large," returned the other, "when I relate to you my story; at present I will only tell you that I saw her dead with these eyes, and buried her with my own hands among the buccaneers." "Take some rest now," said the old man; "this mystery will soon be cleared up."--"I cannot sleep," he said; "do you repose yourself if you will; I shall die if I do not find out, and that immediately, under what mistake Nausicles is labouring; or whether among the Egyptians alone the dead come to life again." Calasiris smiled at his impatience, and betook himself again to sleep. But Cnemon arose, and, going out of his chamber, encountered all those difficulties which it was probable a stranger would meet with, who wanders at night, and in the dark, in an unknown house; but he struggled with them all, such was his horror of Thisbe, and his anxiety to clear away the apprehensions which were raised in his mind by what fell from Nausicles. After passing and repassing many times, without knowing it, the same passages, at last he heard the soft voice of a woman lamenting, like a vernal nightingale pouring out her melancholy notes at eventide.[3] Led by the sound, he advanced towards the apartment; and putting his ear to the division of the folding doors, he listened, and heard her thus lamenting:--