lilies could be seen shimmering in the yellow moon. The middle of
the hall was occupied by a round table covered with draperies of
gold, white, and green, and heaped with all the costly accessories
of a sumptuous banquet such as might have been spread before the
gods of Olympus in the full height of their legendary prime. Here
were the lovely hues of heaped-up fruit,--the tender bloom of
scattered flowers,--the glisten of jewelled flagons and goblets,
the flash of massive golden dishes carried aloft by black slaves
attired in white and crimson,--the red glow of poured-out wine;
and here, in the drowsy warmth, lounging on divans of velvet and
embroidered satin, eating, drinking, idly gossiping, loudly
laughing, and occasionally bursting into wild snatches of song,
were a company of brilliant-looking personages,--all men, all
young, all handsome, all richly clad, and all evidently bent on
enjoying the pleasures offered by the immediate hour. Suddenly,
however, their noisy voices ceased--with one accord, as though
drawn by some magnetic spell, they all turned their heads toward
the platform where Lysia had just silently made her appearance,--
and springing from their seats they broke into a boisterous shout
of acclamation and welcome. One young man whose flushed face had
all the joyous, wanton, effeminate beauty of a pictured Dionysius,
reeled forward, goblet in hand, and tossing the wine in air so
that it splashed down again at his feet, staining his white
garments as it fell with a stain as of blood, he cried, tipsily:

"All hail, Lysia! Where hast thou wandered so long, thou Goddess
of Morn? We have been lost in the blackness of night, sunk in the
depths of a hell-like gloom--but lo! now the clouds have broken in
the east, and our hearts rejoice at the birth of day! Vanish, dull
moon, and be ashamed! ... for a fairer planet rules the sky!