'What Fausta says is just,' observed Gracchus, 'and in few words
prescribes your course. It will not be a difficult thing, out of the
multitudes of bold spirits who crowd the capital, Greek, Roman, Syrian,
and Arab, to find one who will do all that you could do, and I may add,
both more and better. You may find those who are familiar with the route,
who know the customs of Persia, who can speak its language, and are even
at home in her capitals, and who would be infinitely more capable than
either you or I, or even Fausta, to manage to a happy issue an enterprise
like this. Let this then be our decision; and be it now our united care to
find the individual to whom we may commit this dear but perilous service.
And now enough of this. The city sleeps, and it were better that we slept
with it. But first, my child, bring harmony into our spirits by one of
those wild, sad airs which you are accustomed to sing to me upon the harp
of the Jews. It will dispose Lucius to pleasant dreams.'

I added my importunities, and Fausta rising, moved to an open window,
through which the moon was now pouring a flood of silver light, and
seating herself before the instrument which stood there, first swept its
strings with an easy and graceful hand.

'I wish,' said she, 'I could give you the song which I am going to sing in
the language of the Hebrews, for it agrees better, I think, with the
sentiment and the character of the music, than the softer accents of the
Greek. But every thing is Greek now.'

So saying, she commenced with a prelude more sweetly and profoundly
melancholy than even the wailing of the night wind among the leafless
trees of the forest. This was followed by--an ode shall I call it?--or a
hymn?--for it was not what we mean by a song. Nor was the music like any