She screamed and recoiled from him with hand upraised to defend herself.
“I am handsome and strong and capable of inspiring a woman’s passion. You yourself said so, and I have come for your love.”
She tried to flee but firmly he barred her way.
“I have had nothing of all my life. Nothing of my beauty and strength. Your own Jason said so. Now I desire to enjoy what I have missed as long as strength and beauty remain with me.”
She wished to make an outcry, but her throat was as if tightened with fetters.
He embraced her with a powerful arm and she turned and writhed as though a snake were coiling about her.
And he spoke:
“I have come for your love. Are you afraid of me? Do I arouse your aversion? Am I too old for you? My white hair recalls the snowy cold of death. But I still live and am strong and passionate, and I have come for your love.”
Athaliah, ghastly pale, squirmed in his arms and gasped, in fright and loathing. “Let me go! Let me go!”
But he took her in his arms and with his keen eyes seemed to devour her beauty.