“It’s quite true,” said Juba; “he would not be thinking of Callista, if he were thinking of his saints and angels.”
“Ha, ha! to be sure!” returned Jucundus; “to be [pg 66]sure! yet why shouldn’t he worship a handsome Greek girl as well as any of those mummies and death’s heads and bogies of his, which I should blush to put up here alongside even of Anubis, or a scarabæus?”
“Mother thinks she is not altogether the girl you take her for,” said his nephew.
“No matter, no matter,” answered Jucundus, “no matter at all; she may be a Lais or Phryne for me; the surer to make a man of him.”
“Why,” said Juba, “mother thinks her head is turning in the opposite way. D’you see? Strange, isn’t it?” he added, annoyed himself yet not unwilling to annoy his uncle.
“Hm!” exclaimed Jucundus, making a wry face and looking round at him, as if to say, “What on earth is going to turn up now?”
“To tell the truth,” said Juba, gloomily, “I did once think of her myself. I don’t see why I have not as much right to do so as Agellius, if I please. So I thought old mother might do something for me; and I asked her for a charm or love potion, which would bring her from her brother down to the forest yonder. Gurta took to it kindly, for she has a mortal hatred of Callista, because of her good looks, though she won’t say so, and because she’s a Greek! and she liked the notion of humbling the haughty minx. So she began one of the most tremendous spells,” he shrieked out with a laugh, “one of the most tremendous spells in her whole budget. All and everything in the most exact religious way: wine, milk, blood, meal, wax, old [pg 67]rags, gods, Numidian as well as Punic; such names; one must be barbarian to boot, as well as witch, to pronounce them: a score of things there were besides. And then to see the old woman, with her streaming grey hair, twinkling eyes, and grim look, twirl about as some flute girl at a banquet; it was enough to dance down, not only the moon, but the whole milky way. But it did not dance down Callista; at which mother got savage, and protested that Callista was a Christian.”
Jucundus looked much perplexed. “Medius fidius!” he said, “why, unless we look sharp, she will be converting him the wrong way;” and he began pacing up and down the small room.
Juba on his part began singing—
“Gurta the witch would have part in the jest;