lation thrilled through every vein. His first impulse was to quit the tomb in which he had been so long immured, and seek again the regions of light and day. Instinct seemed to guide him to this; for, as yet, a mist hung over his faculties, and ideas thronged in painful confusion through his mind, which he was incapable of either arranging or analyzing.
When however he reached the plain, light and air seemed to revive him and restore his scattered senses; and gazing wildly around he exclaimed, "Where am I? what place is this? Methinks all seems wondrous, new, and strange! Where is my father? And where! oh, where, is my Arsinöe? Alas, alas!" continued he wildly; "I had forgotten—I hoped it was a dream, a fearful dream, for methinks I have been long asleep. Was it, indeed, reality? Are all, all gone? And was that hideous scene true?—those horrors that still haunt my memory like a ghastly vision? Speak! speak!" continued he, his voice rising in thrilling energy as he spoke—"speak! let me hear the sound of another's voice, before my brain is lost in madness. Have I entered Hades, or am I still on
