Praise her! for she was adroit and performed difficult tricks. She juggled with hoops, without breaking anything in the room, she glided through them like a grasshopper. Sometimes she made a wheel, bending upon her hands and feet. Or, with her two legs in the air and her knees apart, she curved herself backward and touched the ground, laughing. CXXIII THE DANCE OF THE FLOWERS Anthis, dancing-girl of Lydia, has seven veils about her. She unrolls the yellow veil, her black hair spreads out. The rosy veil slips from her mouth. The white veil falls, revealing her naked arms. She releases her little breasts from the red veil that unties itself. She lets fall the green veil from her double, rounded croup. She draws the blue veil from her shoulders, but she presses upon her puberty the last transparent veil. The young men supplicate her; she tosses her head backward. Only at the sound of the flutes, she tears it a little, then, suddenly, and with the gestures of the dance, she culls the flowers of her body. Singing: “Where are my roses? where are my perfumed violets! Where are my tufts of parsley!--Behold my roses, I give them to you. Behold my violets, will you have them? Behold my fair curled parsley.” CXXIV VIOLENCE No, thou shalt not take me by force, count not on that, Lamprias. If thou hast heard it said that someone violated Parthenis, know that she gave herself, for one plays not with us without being invited. Oh! do thy best, make efforts. See: it is a failure. I scarcely defend myself, yet. I will not call for help. And I do not even struggle; but I stir. Poor friend, it is a failure again. Continue. This little game amuses me. The more as I am sure to conquer. Again an unhappy essay, and perhaps thou wilt be less disposed to show me thine extinguished desires. Butcher, what doest thou! Cur! thou wilt break my wrists! and this knee, this knee which opens me! Ah! go, now, it is a fine victory, that of ravishing a young girl, in tears, upon the ground. CXXV SONG The first gave me a collar, a collar of pearls, worth a city with its palaces and its temples, and its treasures and its slaves. The second made verses for me. He said that my tresses were black as those of the night and my eyes blue as those of the morning. The third was so beautiful that his mother could not embrace him without reddening. He put his hands upon my knees and his lips upon my naked foot. Thou, thou hast told me nothing, thou hast given me nothing, for thou art poor. And thou art not beautiful, but it is thee I love. CXXVI ADVICE TO A LOVER If thou wouldst be loved by a woman, O young friend, whoever she may be, tell her not that thou wishest her, but have her see thee every day; then disappear, to return.