When, stretched upon my knees, thy two frail arms about me, thou seekest my breast, thy mouth clinging, and press my nipples softly between thy palpitating lips: Then I dream that, at some time, I have truly nursed this delicate mouth, supple and moist, this vase of crimson myrrhine in which the happiness of Bilitis is mysteriously enclosed. Sleep. I will cradle thee with one hand upon my knee which rocks thee. Sleep so. I will sing for thee little mournful songs which bring sleep to the newly-born. LXXIV A PROMENADE BY THE SEA As we were walking on the seashore, without speaking, and enveloped to the chin in our robes of sombre wool, joyous young girls passed by. “Ah! it is Bilitis and Mnasidika! See, the pretty little squirrel we have caught: it is soft as a bird and timid as a rabbit. “At Lydia’s house we will put it in a cage, give it plenty of milk with lettuce leaves. It is a female, she will live a long time.” And the mad ones set out, running. As for us, without speaking, we seated ourselves, I on a rock, she upon the sand, and we gazed at the sea. LXXV THE OBJECT Greeting, Bilitis, Mnasidika, greeting.--Be seated. How is thy husband?--Too well. Do not tell him that you have seen me. He would slay me if he knew I had been here.--Have no fear. “And this is your chamber? and this your bed? Pardon me. I am curious.--Thou knowest, however, the bed of Myrrhina.--So little.--It is said to be pretty.--And lascivious, O my dear! let us not speak of it. “What wishest thou of me?--That thou lend me....--Speak.--I dare not name the object.--We do not have one.--Truly?--Mnasidika is a virgin.--Then, where can one buy it?--From the harness-maker, Drakon. “Tell also, where thou buyest thy thread for embroidery? Mine breaks if one looks at it.--I make mine myself, but that which Nais sells is excellent.--At what price?--Three oboli.--It is dear. And the object?--Two drachmæ.--Farewell.” LXXVI EVENING NEAR THE FIRE The winter is hard, Mnasidika. All is frozen, except our bed. But rise and come with me, for I have lit a great fire with dead twigs and broken wood. We will warm ourselves, crouching quite naked, our hair upon our backs, and we will drink milk from the same cup and we will eat cakes with honey. How gay and noisy the flame is! Art thou not too near? Thy skin reddens. Let me kiss it wherever the fire has burned it. Amidst the ardent firebrands, I will heat the iron and I will dress thy hair here. With dead coals I will write thy name upon the wall. LXXVII SUPPLICATIONS What dost thou wish? If it must be, I will sell my last jewels so that an attentive slave may wait upon the desire of thine eyes, and every thirst of thy lips.