Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: June 8, 2025
“A safe promise,” interrupted a Spartan in broadest Doric; “the pretty boy has no chance against Lycon, our Laconian giant.” “Boaster!” retorted an Athenian. “Did not Glaucon bend open a horseshoe yesterday?” “Our Mœrocles did that,” called a Mantinean; whereupon the crier, foregoing his long speech on Glaucon’s noble ancestry, began to urge the Athenians to show their confidence by their wagers.
“Noble tidings,” whispered the giant, as the two stood an instant, before each went to his own men. “Behold how Hermes helps us—a great deity.” “Sometimes I think Nemesis is greater,” said Democrates, once again refusing Lycon’s proffered hand. “By noon you’ll laugh at Nemesis, philotate, when we both drink Helbon wine in Xerxes’s tent!” and away went Lycon into the dark.
“Unhand the lad!” he repeated. For a moment, compelled by his beauty, the Spartans yielded. The Oriental pressed against his protector; but the affair was not to end so easily. “Hark you, Sir Athenian,” rejoined the Spartan leader, “don’t presume on your good looks. Our Lycon will mar them all to-morrow.
Otherwise talked Democrates and Lycon as they quitted the Persian pickets and made their way across the black plain, back to the lines of the Hellenes. “You should be happy to-night,” said the Athenian. “Assuredly. I draw up my net and find it very full of mullets quite to my liking.” “Take care it be not so full that it break.”
I hoped to have you for ‘my royal brother’ when they gave me the like lordship of Lacedæmon. However, the matter does not end with your refusal.” “I have said, ‘Do your worst.’ ” “And my worst is—Agis.” For an instant Lycon was dismayed. He thought he had slain his victim with one word. Democrates dropped from his clutch and upon the pavement as though stricken through the heart by an arrow.
When they had waited a good while, at length Lycon the Syracusan reached a short sword in at the window to one of the Zacynthians, and thus, like a victim at a sacrifice, this long time in their power, and trembling for the blow, they killed him.
The Athenian cast at the stranger a glance of keenest scrutiny. He knew by every instinct in his being that Lycon was telling a barefaced lie. Why he did not cry out as much that instant he hardly himself knew. But the gaze of the “Cyprian” pierced through him, fascinating, magnetizing, and Lycon’s great hand was on his victim’s shoulder. The “Cyprian’s” own hand went out seeking Democrates’s.
If I know your power over me, I can also promise you not to go down to Orchus alone, but take excellent pains to have fair company.” “I am sorry to bear such tidings to Lycon, Excellency.” “Away with you!” “Do not raise your voice, kyrie,” spoke Hiram, never more blandly, “here is a man asleep.” The hint sent Democrates from the spot almost on a run. Hiram disappeared in the opposite direction.
Glaucon and Lycon, each winning twice, shall wrestle for the final victory.” And now the stadium grew exceeding still. Men lifted their hands to their favourite gods, and made reckless, if silent, vows,—geese, pigs, tripods, even oxen,—if only the deity would strengthen their favourite’s arm.
“Well—the old oracle is proved: ‘Base love of gain and naught else shall bear sore destruction to Sparta.’ ” “That doesn’t halt Xerxes’s advance.” “An end to your croakings,”—Democrates was becoming angry,—“I know the Persian’s power well enough. Now why have you summoned me?” Lycon looked on his visitor long and hard.
Word Of The Day
Others Looking