"Say," cried the host, and signed to the cup-bearer just as a burst of mirth caused by one of these stories had ceased; "tell us, you man of varied experience--Egyptian Isis-girls, Gallic Druidesses, black-haired daughters of Syria, and my plastic sisters of Hellas--all these you know and understand how to value; but tell us, have you ever loved a Germanic woman?" "No," said Cethegus, "they were always too insipid for me." "Oho!" said Kallistratos; "that is saying too much. I tell you, I was mad all the last calendars for a German girl; she was not at all insipid." "What? you, Kallistratos of Corinth, the countryman of Aspasia and Helena, you could burn for a barbarian woman? Oh, wicked Eros, sense-confuser, man-shamer!" "Well, I acknowledge it was an error of the senses. I have never before experienced such." "Relate, relate!" cried all the others. CHAPTER X. "With pleasure," said the host, smoothing his cushions; "although I play no brilliant part in the story. Well, some time ago I was returning home from the baths of Abaskanthus at about the eighth hour. In the street I found a woman's litter, accompanied by four slaves, who, I believe, were captive Gepidians. And exactly opposite the door of my house stood two veiled women, their calanticas thrown over their heads. One wore the garment of a slave, but the other was very richly and tastefully dressed; and the little that could be seen of her figure was divine. Such a graceful walk, such slender ankles, such an arched instep! As I approached they entered the litter and were gone. But I--you know that a sculptor's blood flows in the veins of every Greek--I dreamt all night of the slender ankles and the light step. The next day at noon, as I opened the door to go, as usual, to the bibliographers in the Forum, I saw the same litter hurrying away. I confess--though I am not usually vain--I thought that this time I had made a conquest; I wished it so much. And I could no longer doubt it, when, coming home again at the eighth hour, I saw my strange beauty, this time unaccompanied, slip past me and hurry to her litter. I could not follow the quick-footed slaves, so I entered my house, full of happy thoughts. The ostiarius met me and said: "'Sir, a veiled female slave waits in the library.' "I hurried to the room with a beating heart. It was really the slave whom I had seen yesterday. She threw back her mantle; a handsome coquettish Moor or Carthaginian--I know the sort--looked at me with sly eyes. "'I claim the reward of a messenger, Kallistratos,' she said; 'I bring you good news.' "I took her hand and would have patted her cheek--for who desires to win the mistress must kiss the slave--but she laughed and said: "'No, not Eros; Hermes sends me. My mistress'--I listened eagerly. 'My mistress is--a passionate lover of art. She offers you three thousand solidi for the bust of Ares which stands in the niche at the door of your house.'"