“Will he come?”
“If you give him his way.... It is dangerous for you to quarrel with a man who is a statesman and giver of laws! In Athens the hetæræ live free and esteemed. Change may come; I would have you beware!”
“Glaucon—Glaucon—Glaucon—Glaucon!... I will not send.”
“Ah, woman, yes, you will!” said Phrygia.
Light rose, light fell, rose, fell, rose—Glaucon returned not. Myrina went abroad to temple and spectacle. The great in Athens came about her; she used beauty and wit and a kind, even, of goodness—and all the time her heart ached and ached and said, “Glaucon—Glaucon—Glaucon!”
The third day she did not go out, but sat all day upon the floor before the statue of Aphrodite.
In the evening Phrygia brought her food. “You are growing hollow-eyed. If you lose your beauty, night comes down without a star!”
“Glaucon—Glaucon!”
Phyrgia sat down the silver dish. “Listen, mistress,—send for Glaucon—promise him all he wishes—forswear for him the light of the sun and the company, were it so, of the blessed gods! What! No state of affairs lives forever! His pride is fed—mayhap next month he will leave you free again! Demeter knows we all are children! Yet we must live and keep the red in our cheeks and the light in our eyes.... Man is master, but we can manage the master.”
“All slaves alike.”