A word in your ear, madam; no one else must hear this.—Sirs, withdraw for a space.—Clotho, if you will let me escape, I pledge myself to give you a quarter of a million sterling this very day.
Ha, ha! So your millions are still running in your head?
Shall I throw in the two mixing-bowls that I got by the murder of Cleocritus? They weigh a couple of tons apiece; refined gold!
Drag him up. We shall never get him to come on board by himself.
I call you all to witness! My city-wall, my docks, remain unfinished. I only wanted five days more to complete them.
Never mind. It will be another’s work now.
Stay! One request I can make with a clear conscience.
Well?
Suffer me only to complete the conquest of Persia; and to impose tribute on Lydia; ... and erect a colossal monument to myself, ... and inscribe thereon the military achievements of my life. Then let me die.
Creature, this is no single day’s reprieve: you would want something like twenty years.
Oh, but I am quite prepared to give security for my expeditious return, Nay, I could provide a substitute, if preferred;—my well-beloved!
Wretch! How often have you prayed that he might survive you!
That was a long time ago. New,—I see a better use for him.
But he is due to be here, shortly, let me tell you. He is to be put to death by the new sovereign.