“They are no less finely moulded than thine are, O my lover. But thy fingers and wrists are strong as iron; mine are more supple.”
“Ay, my love; thine can be broken like a tender flower. These hands must never grow hard and coarse. Nana will do all the hard work. Then thou must find some one to help thee.”
“Thou wilt spoil me, O Gyges. Nana and I can do everything.”
“Why canst thou not bring Lupa here? She would have a happy home with us.”
“Poor unfortunate child!” said Psyche. “Last night she was beaten and put out of her home. We cared for her. Canst thou, O Gyges, provide for so many people?”
“Ay, my love,” said Gyges, cheerfully. “Charioteers are well paid. I am doubly fortunate in being a favorite with the people. When we tire of this house, we can buy another better, larger, grander.”
“Shall we end by living on the Palatine Hill, O my lover?” laughed Psyche.
“Not so high are my ambitions,” said Gyges, with a smile. “I must always see my Psyche beautiful, free from care and trouble. I must always see on her cheek the rosy bloom which I shall try to brush away with kisses. Lay thy head on my shoulder. My lips thirst for kisses, O my love. Let me press thine eyes with my lips. Let me press thy lips with mine. Are we not happy?”
“Never was the beloved of Eros happier than I am with thee now, O my lover.”
“For the wish to kiss lips like thine, O my love, the Trojan war was fought. The desire for a kiss changed Arethusa into a fountain, Daphne into the aromatic laurel-tree, Adonis into the tremulous flower of the wind. A kiss, my love, is the knot that unites the cords of love, and therefore completes the circle of happiness.”