"A great lion from Libya, my son, a beast fierce and hungry."
"And with what beasts is it going to fight? Will they be wild-boars, or bears, or tigers, or elephants? How I should love to see a big battle among them all! Tell me, father, what are the beasts to be." And the beautiful boy fairly shook with excitement.
The father did not speak for a moment. His brows lowered over large brown eyes, a crimson wave of shame and anger swept over his handsome face, followed by a subduing wave of pity, and then he spoke in a tone that surprised the ardent boy.
"Carnion," said he, "there is little likelihood that the lion will have anything to fight with."
"Why not, father?" asked the boy, feeling quite disappointed. "Will it only go round the arena and roar?"
"Were that all, my son, I should be exceedingly glad."
The boy was perplexed:—"What dost thou mean, father?"
"I mean, my son, that the lion is to find its prey in the form of a defenceless virtuous woman!"
The boy was amazed and his eyes were piercing. "My father," said he tremulously, "is it the lady Tharsos spoke of?"
"Yes, Carnion."