“Go away,” said Lucius.
“Lucius, I long to be your slave. I, Tamyris, the famous hetaira, who possess treasures, as you do, and the largest beryl discovered in Ethiopia, I long to be your slave and I long to shake your pillows high and soft and to lave your feet in nard and to dry them with my kisses, kiss after kiss until they are dry.”
Lucius struck a hard blow on the gong. Caleb and Tarrar appeared.
“Call the guards,” Lucius commanded. “And drag this woman away if she does not go.”
“I am going,” said Tamyris. “But, when I am dead, O Lucius, burnt out with love, I shall haunt you and my ghost will twine around you, without your being able to prevent it, and I shall suck your soul from your lips ... until I have you inside me ... inside me.”
“Gracious lady,” said Caleb, obsequiously, “the rain has ceased and your litter waits.”
“I am going,” said Tamyris. “The Prince of Numidia expects me. He has come with twenty swimming elephants, over the sea and straight across the lake, to love me. I am giving an orgy to-night, just to amuse him. Lucius, if you call on me to-night, we will tie up the Prince of Numidia and tickle the soles of his feet till he dies of laughing. Will you come?”
“You lie,” said Lucius. “There is no prince come to see you and there are no swimming elephants. You weary me. Go away, or I shall have you scourged from my presence with long whips.”
“I am going,” said Tamyris. “But, at a moment when you are not thinking of it, I shall bewitch you. Then you, without knowing it, will drink a philtre which I have prepared for you; and you will come to me and I shall embrace you. And in my embrace you shall know what otherwise would have always remained a secret to you. I am going.”