the idolatrous city, is broken in pieces and is become a waste of ashes!  Who will join with me in a lament for Al-Kyris?  I will call upon the desert of the sea to hear my voice, . .  I will pour forth my sorrows on the wind, and it shall carry the burden of grief to the four quarters of the earth,—­all nations shall shudder and be astonished at the direful end of Al-Kyris, the city beautiful, the empress of kingdoms!  Woe unto Al-Kyris, for she hath suffered herself to be led astray by her rulers! ... she hath drunken deep of the innocent blood and hath followed after idols, . . her abominations are manifold and the hearts of her young men and maidens are full of evil!  Therefore because Al-Kyris delighteth in pride and despiseth repentance, so shall destruction descend furiously upon her, even as a sudden tempest in the mid-watches of the night,—­she shall be swept away from the surface of the earth, ... wolves shall make their lair in her pleasant gardens, and the generations of men shall remember her no more!  Oh ye kings, princes, and warriors!—­Weep, weep for the doom of Al-Kyris!” and now his wild voice sank by degrees into a piteous plaintiveness—­ “Weep!—­for never again on earth shall be found a fairer dwelling-place for the lovers of joy! ... never again shall be builded a grander city for the glory and wealth of a people!  Al-Kyris!  Al-Kyris!  Thou that boastest of ancient days and long lineage! ... thou art become a forgotten heap of ruin! ... the sands of the desert shall cover thy temples and palaces, and none hereafter shall inquire concerning thee!  None shall bemoan thee, . . none shall shed tears for the grievous manner of thy death, . . none shall know the names of thy mighty heroes and men of fame,—­for thou shalt vanish utterly and be lost far out of memory even as though thou hadst never been!”

Here he stopped abruptly and caught his breath hard,—­his blazing eyes preternaturally large and brilliant fixed themselves steadfastly on the sculptured ivory shield that surmounted the back of the King’s throne, and over his drawn and wrinkled features came an expression of such ghastly horror that instinctively every one present turned their looks in the same direction.  Suddenly a shriek, piercing and terrible, broke from his lips,—­a shriek that like a swiftly descending knife seemed to saw the air discordantly asunder.

“See ...  See!” he cried in fierce haste and eagerness ...  “See how the crested head gleams! ...  How the soft, shiny throat curves and glistens! ... how the lithe body twists and twines! ...  Hence!—­ Hence, accursed Snake! ..thou poisoner of peace! ... thou quivering sting in the flesh!—­thou destroyer of the strength of manhood!  What hast thou to do with Zephoranim, that thou dost wind thy many coils about his heart? ...  Lysia ...  Lysia! ...” here the King started violently, his face flushing darkly red, “Thou delicate abomination! ...  Thou tyrannous treachery.. what shall be done unto thee in the hour