“Woman’s love? What is that? It is craft—it is sold for ease! Love from the snake—love from the fox—”
“Maybe so, man the wolf!”
“Will you forbid Dion and these others your company? Will you stay closely in the house, go not abroad?”
“And live not till you come? And live only when you come?”
“Yes!”
“No!”
Myrina and Glaucon stood over against each other, each breathing hard. Then cried Glaucon, “You are false! I hear no music in this house to-night, smell no flowers!” He lifted his robed arm between them, burst from the room, called to his slave Milo. Myrina heard the doorkeeper opening the door at his imperious word. Glaucon was gone in black anger and jealousy.
The nurse Phrygia came into the room, and found Myrina seated, Asian fashion, upon the floor before the marble figure of Aphrodite.
“Phrygia,” said Myrina, “men and women are beings without reason.”
“Will you send for him back?”