“As an offering to thee, golden Cytheræ, Timo consecrates this sinuous bracelet. Mayst thou entwine thy vengeance around the throat of the one thou knowest, as this silver serpent entwined itself about these naked arms.” Myrtocleia and Rhodis advanced hand in hand. “Here are two doves from Smyrna with wings as white as caresses and feet as red as kisses. O double Goddess of Amathonte, accept them from our joint hands if it is true that the fair Adonis did not satisfy thee and a still more sweet embrace sometimes disturbed thy slumbers.” A very young courtesan followed, saying-- “Aphrodite Peribasia receive my virginity with this stained tunic of mine. I am Pannychis of Pharos; since last night I have vowed myself to thy worship.” Another said-- “Dorothea begs thee, charitable Epistrophia, to banish from her mind the desire placed there by Eros or at least to inflame for her the eyes of the lover who refuses her. She presents to thee this branch of myrtle because it is the tree thou preferest.” Another said-- “Upon thy altar, Paphia, Calliston places sixty drachmas of silver, the balance of a gift she has received from Cleomenes. Give her a still more generous lover, if the offering seems to thee acceptable.” The only one left in front of the idol was a blushing child who had taken the last place. She held in her hand nothing but a tiny garland of flowers, and the priest treated her with contempt because of the smallness of her offering. She said-- “I am not rich enough to give thee pieces of gold, great Goddess. Besides, what could I give thee which thou dost not already possess. Here are green and yellow flowers woven as a garland for thy feet.” The procession seemed to be at an end and the other courtesans were about to retrace their steps when a woman was seen standing at the door. She had nothing in her hand and seemed to have come to offer her beauty to the Goddess. Her hair was like two waves of gold, two deep billows full of shadow engulfing the ears and twisted in seven turns at the throat. Her nose was fine, with expressive and palpitating nostrils, and beneath it was a full and coral coloured mouth with rounded mobile corners to it. The supple lines of the body undulated at each step she took. Her eyes were wonderful; they were blue but dark and gleaming as well, and changed like moonstones, as she held them half closed beneath her long lashes. The glances of those eyes were like the sirens’ songs. The priest turned towards her and waited for her to speak. She said-- “Chrysis offers up her prayer to thee, O Chrysea. Receive the paltry offering she lays at thy feet. Hear and aid, love and solace her who lives according to thy pattern and for the worship of thy name.” She extended her hands golden with rings and bowed her knees before the Goddess. The vague chant recommenced. The sound of the harps ascended towards the statue with the smoke of the incense which the priest was burning in a swinging censor.