“Dancing-girls need little instruction in the art of love.” “I have told thee that they are misjudged.” “I have told thee that they are not misjudged by me. Come, confess thy thoughts to me.” “I have nothing to confess.” “Confess that thou dost love.” “Love! Whom?” she asked. “Love me,” he replied with a wicked smile. “Confess that thou wishest to love me, as thou didst love the youths at the theatre. Prison life will soon lose its dulness if thou wilt love me.” “I do not understand thy meaning!” said Psyche, white with fear. “Cell life has dulled thy senses. Come, sit thou down. I ask not for thy respect, but for thy love.” “Respect! Love! Art thou mad? Thou, the murderer of my brother; thou who art tormenting my parents; thou who wouldst thrust into thy dungeon an innocent man,--thou now comest before me, before one whose heart is torn and whose wounds are still fresh, and, villain that thou art, thou askest for love! Thou mayest be the emperor’s minister, but there is a limit to thy power! I detest thee! Leave me!” “Hold, my pretty one! Thou sayest that I am powerful. Ay; that is true. My power can and will win thee. I have come here to love thee and I will not leave without that satisfaction.” With intense fear the poor maiden threw herself on her knees and, looking up to heaven, cried in tragic accents: “O Mother of God, Celestial Rhea, hear the prayer from virgin lips! Deliver me from the power of this fiend! Grant me death rather than defilement! Protect thy persecuted child! Save! Oh, save!--” “The gods hear no prayers in the Praetorian Camp,” jeered Sejanus, with an infernal smile on his lips. He approached her and caught her in his arms. “O Gyges, Gyges!” she screamed, struggling against him with all her might. “Struggle, scream, ay, yell! Thy cries fall on deaf ears. No one can save thee.” Although excitement gave her unnatural strength, yet in the arms of Sejanus she was powerless. He kissed her cheeks, though she tried to avoid his caress by leaning backwards. He whispered words of love, but she spat in his face. She clutched his head in her hands and tore his hair. But this nervous force soon spent itself, and she grew weak. She sobbed, pleaded, and struggled; she called upon the gods, but with no avail. Sejanus, like an enraged beast, threw her on her straw mattress--but a loud knock on the door arrested him. Infuriated by the interruption, and fully prepared to fell the man who had broken his strict orders, he opened the door, and saw standing in the corridor his master--the Emperor. Chapter XIII