_Rhad_. Enough of verbal evidence. Now, just divest yourself of that purple, and we will see what you have in the way of brands. Goodness gracious, the man's a positive network! Black and blue with them! Now, what punishment can we give him? A bath in Pyriphlegethon? The tender mercies of Cerberus, perhaps? _Cy_. No, no. Allow me,—I have a novel idea; something that will just suit him. _Rhad_. Yes? I shall be obliged to you for a suggestion. _Cy_. I fancy it is usual for departed spirits to take a draught of the water of Lethe? _Rhad_. Just so. _Cy_. Let him be the sole exception. _Rhad_. What is the idea in that? _Cy_. His earthly pomp and power for ever in his mind; his fingers ever busy on the tale of blissful items;—'tis a heavy sentence! _Rhad_. True. Be this the tyrant's doom. Place him in fetters at Tantalus's side,—never to forget the things of earth. F. THE END