Chariclea then was again committed to the custody of Euphrates; again thrown into prison, and reserved for a second trial, and a second sentence; rejoicing however amidst her troubles, that she should once more have an opportunity of seeing, and conversing with, Theagenes; for Arsace, out of a refinement of cruelty, had ordered them to be confined in one dungeon, that each might be a spectator of the other's sufferings; for she well knew that a tender heart is much more hurt by the pains of those it loves than by its own. In this instance, however, her savage mind was disappointed; and what she meant as a punishment turned out a consolation. They took a melancholy pleasure in suffering for each other, and in suffering equally. Had a greater share of torments been inflicted upon either, the other would have been jealous, and thought his love defrauded--moreover they were now together--they could converse with, comfort, and encourage one another to bear their calamities with fortitude, and to resist courageously every trial that might endanger their purity or fidelity. They passed the greatest part of the night in speaking on such topics, as might indeed be expected from a pair, whose whole delight was in their mutual conversation, and who despaired of ever passing another night together again. At length they came to the miraculous event which happened at the pyre. Theagenes attributed it to the benevolence of the gods, who were angry at the injustice of Arsace, and who pitied Chariclea's innocence and piety. She herself was in doubt whether to thank or complain of heaven. The manifest interposition of the gods at the place of execution, was a mark of their kindness and protection; but to be preserved from death, only to be plunged afresh in new and unceasing troubles, was rather a sign of their having incurred, and still continuing under, the divine displeasure: unless indeed, it were some wonder-working method of the deity delighting to plunge them into the deepest misery, in order to show its power of saving them when their condition appeared desperate. She was going on in a complaining style, when Theagenes stopped her, bidding her speak more reverently, nor to scrutinize the conduct of the Deity. Suddenly she exclaimed,--"May the gods be propitious to us, for I just now call to mind a dream, (or rather waking vision), which I had last night, and which the unexpected sight of you again, and the various matters which we have since talked of, had driven from my memory. The vision was this:--The beatified Calasiris appeared to me (whether in reality or in idea, I am not certain) and repeated these lines, for the words fell into verse; 'Wearing Pantarbè, fear not flames, fair maid, Fate, to whom nought is hard, shall bring thee aid.'"[14]