Then I felt a great shiver and still holding her hand, I leaned on her shoulder in order to read the four lines between the broken cup and the serpent: “It is not death which has carried me away, but the Nymphs of the fountains. I rest here under the light earth with the severed hair of Xantho. Let her alone weep for me. I tell not my name.” For a long time we remained standing, and we did not pour a libation. For how could we call an unknown soul from the throngs of Hades? LVII THE THREE BEAUTIES OF MNASIDIKA So that Mnasidika may be protected by the gods, I have sacrificed to the Aphrodite-who-loves-the-smiles, two male hares and two doves. And I have sacrificed to Ares two cocks armed for fighting, and to sinister Hecate two dogs that howled under the knife. And it is not without reason that I have implored these three immortals, for Mnasidika carries on her countenance the reflection of their triple divinity. Her lips are red like copper, her hair bluish like iron and her eyes black like silver. LVIII THE CAVE OF THE NYMPHS Thy feet are more delicate than those of silvery Thetis. Between thy crossed arms thou unitest thy breasts, cradling them softly like the bodies of two fair doves. Beneath thy hair thou dissemblest thy moist eyes, thy trembling mouth and the pink flowers of thine ears; but nothing stops my regard nor the warm breath of my kiss. For, in the secret of thy body, it is thou, Mnasidika, beloved, who hidest the cave of the nymphs of which old Homer spoke, the place where the naiads weave their purple linens. The place where glide, drop by drop, the inexhaustible springs and where the gate of the North lets men descend and the gate of the South lets immortals enter. LIX MNASIDIKA’S BREASTS Carefully, with one hand, she opened her tunic and offered me her warm, sweet breasts, as one would offer to the goddess a pair of living turtle-doves. “Love them well,” she said to me; “I love them so much! They are dear, the little babes. I busy myself with them when I am alone. I play with them; I give them pleasure. “I douche them with milk. I powder them with flowers. My soft hair which drys them is dear to their little points. I caress them, and shiver. I enfold them in wool. “Because I shall never have children, be their nursling, my love, and because they are so far from my mouth, give them kisses for me.” LX THE DOLL I have given her a doll, a doll of wax with cheeks of roses. Its arms are attached by little pegs and its legs can be moved. When we are together, she couches it between us, and it is our child. In the evening she cradles it and gives it the breast before putting it to sleep.