If she address her speech to thee, be amorous without eagerness. She, of herself, will come to thee. But thou must take her by force, the day when she intends to give herself. When thou receivest her in thy bed neglect thine own pleasure. The hands of an amorous woman are trembling and without caresses. Excuse them from being zealous. But thou, take no repose. Prolong thy kisses to breathlessness. Allow her no sleep, even though she beg it of thee. Kiss always the part of her body toward which she turns her eyes. CXXVII FRIENDS AT DINNER Myromeris and Maskale, my friends, come with me, for I have no lover this evening and, lying upon beds of byssus, we will converse over our dinner. A night of repose will do you good; you shall sleep in my bed, even without fards and with unkempt hair. Wear a simple tunic of wool and leave your jewels in their box. No one shall make you dance to admire your legs and the heavy movements of your loins. No one shall demand the Sacred Figures to judge whether you are amorous. And I have not commanded for us two flute-players with fair mouths, but two pans of browned peas, cakes of honey, fried croquettes, and my last leathern bottle of Kôs. CXXVIII THE TOMB OF A YOUNG COURTESAN Here lies the delicate body of Lydé, little dove, the most joyous of all the courtesans, who more than all others loved orgies and floating hair, soft dances and tunics of hyacinth. More than all others she loved the savory glottisms, the caresses upon her cheek, games that only the lamp saw, and love which bruised the limbs. And now she is a little shadow. But before putting her in the tomb, they have arranged her hair marvelously and laid her in roses; even the stone which covers her is all impregnated with essences and perfumes. Sacred earth, nurse of all, receive gently the poor dead, let her sleep in thine arms, O Mother! and make to grow about the stèle, not nettles and briers, but tender white violets. CXXIX THE LITTLE ROSE MERCHANT Yesterday, Nais said to me, I was in the market when a little girl in red tatters passed, carrying roses, before a group of young men. And this is what I heard: “Buy something from me.--Explain thyself, little one, for we know not what thou sellest; thyself? thy roses or all at once?--If you will buy from me all these flowers, you may have mine for nothing. “And how much wishest thou for thy roses?--I must have six oboli for my mother, else I shall be beaten like a bitch.--Follow us. Thou shalt have a drachma.--Then, shall I seek my little sister?” And both followed those men. They had no breasts, Bilitis. They knew not even how to smile. They trotted along like two kids which one leads to the butcher. CXXX THE DISPUTE