, fair enough to lure the gods themsel, she was
have rested with impunity. But all men seemed banished from her presence. Every one knew that Lyrcus’ jealousy was easily inflamed, and howeve
r great the charm Byssa exercised, fear of the fierce warrior was more potent still. Byssa’s thoughts did not seem to be absorbed in her work.
Each moment she glanced up from her weaving. The Attic plain lay outspread before her in the sunlight. Here were no waving grain-fields, no lu
xuriant12 vineyards; the layer of soil that covered the rocks was so thin that the scanty crop of grass could only feed a few goats. Here and there appe