Arsinoe had been sleeping with only a thin woolen cover over her, the new parasol in her hand. But when she awakened and saw us she flew into a rage.
“How have you been reared, Turms, that you don’t allow a woman to sleep in peace? You must be mad to force yourself into the goddess’s secret chambers in search of me.”
Angry, naked, and with the parasol in her hand she was so enchanting that I was overcome by an irresistible desire to push the priest out of the room and take her in my arms. But since I knew that it would have lasted until morning I controlled my impatience.
“Arsinoe,” I said, “rejoice. The goddess is giving you to me but we must leave immediately and in all secrecy and you must go as you are.”
The priest nodded. “That is so, Istafra. The power of this stranger is greater than mine, therefore it is best that you leave with him. When you are rid of him you can return and I will testify that he abducted you by force. But before that, to please me, make his life as difficult as you can and let him suffer the results of his madness.”
Arsinoe protested sleepily, “I don’t want to go with him and have never promised that I would. Besides, I don’t even know what to wear.”
Impatiently I told her that she had to come as she was because of my promise that we would take nothing belonging to the goddess. I did not wish to rob the goddess, I said, and for my part Arsinoe’s white skin was her most beautiful garment until such a time as I could buy her new clothes.
My words seemed to appease her and she said that she would at least take the parasol since it was my gift to her. But under no circumstances did she intend to follow me and throw herself like some stupid girl at the first stranger.
“So be it,” I said in fury. “I shall hit you over the head and carry you over my shoulder if you prefer that, although I may injure your lovely skin.”
She grew calmer at that and turned her back on us as though in contemplation.
The priest extended a round bowl and a stone knife to me and said, “Now consecrate yourself.”
“Consecrate,” I repeated. “What do you mean?”
“Bind yourself eternally to Aphrodite. It is the least I can expect of you whether you are mortal or not.”
When I remained silent he thought that I hesitated for lack of knowledge. Irritably he explained, “Scratch a wound in your thigh with the goddess’s knife, which is as old as the goddess’s fountain. Shed your blood into the bowl which is made of the goddess’s wood. Drop by drop repeat after me the words of consecration. That is all.”
“Nay,” I protested, “I have not the slightest intention of consecrating myself to Aphrodite. I am what I am. Let that suffice for the goddess from whom I accept this woman as a gift.”
The priest stared at me, not believing his ears. Then his temples and lips swelled with anger, words failed him and he fell to the floor, the goddess’s bowl and knife rolling from his hand. I feared that he had suffered a stroke, but there was no time to revive him.
Arsinoe watched, her lips tightly closed, as I felt her hair to make certain that she had nothing belonging to the goddess. Then I seized her hand, flung my mantle over her and led her out of the chamber. She followed me submissively up to the temple without saying a word.
We crossed the dark courtyard, stumbling over storm-torn branches, and climbed the wall where I had come down. I descended ahead of her, placing her foot on each tent peg so that she was able to reach the ground with but a few scratches. Then I climbed up again and removed the pegs so that no one would know how I had entered the temple. I put my arm around Arsinoe and with pounding heart led her to the inn. Still she had not said a word.
6.
But we were barely within four clay walls when her behavior changed completely. Wrathfully she spat out of her mouth a handful of golden jewelry, hairpins and rings and then fell upon me, beating and kicking and scratching. All the while she poured forth the most horrible words, but fortunately for me her knowledge of Greek was soon exhausted and she had to curse me in Phoenician which I did not fully understand. I had no opportunity to reproach her for having stolen despite her promise, so occupied was I in holding her kicking limbs and in pressing my palm against her mouth lest she awaken the entire inn.
Afterwards I realized that she did not actually scream very loudly but rather guardedly as though unwilling to awaken my sleeping comrades and the people of the inn. At the time, however, in the silence of the night, her voice sounded louder in my ears than warning drums. But soon the touch of her aroused the fire of Aphrodite in my body, I closed her mouth with my own, and in a moment we were lying breast to breast. I felt her heart beating against me as violently as my own, until her body softened, her arms wound themselves around my neck, and with a backward toss of her head she exhaled her hot breath in my face.
“Oh, Turms!” she whispered finally. “Why do you do this to me? I didn’t want to. I resisted with all my strength, but you are stronger than 1.1 will follow you even to the ends of the earth.”
She hugged my loins fiercely, kissed my face and shoulders, caressed the scratches she had made and murmured, “I didn’t hurt you, did I, beloved? I didn’t mean to. Oh, Turms, no man has been to me what you are. I am yours, solely and completely yours.”
She raised herself on her elbow, touched my face and looked at me lovingly.
“I will follow you to the ends of the earth,” she swore. “I will forsake the goddess and my life of luxury and all other men for your sake. Even if you were the poorest beggar I would gladly share your pauper’s porridge and be content with water to drink because you are what you are. I love you madly, Turms, and you must love me a little, too, since you risked such danger to abduct me from the temple.”
Sapless like a crushed plum, I assured her of my love. She listened contentedly, then began walking to and fro, describing with animation the clothes she intended to obtain. Suddenly she noticed the moonstone that hung around my neck on a cord.
“That is beautiful,” she said, fingering it absently. “May I try it?”
She slipped it off my neck and around her own. Twisting her body this way and that to see it, she asked, “Isn’t it beautiful against my skin? But I must get a thin golden chain for it, like those made by the
Etruscans.” I remarked that the simple fiber cord was made of Artemis’ fibers and thus belonged to the moonstone. “But keep it if you wish,” I smiled. “It didn’t shield me from madness since I so madly fell in love with you.”
She stared at me and then demanded, “What do you mean? Is it madness to love me? In that case let us end the matter right now and I will return to the temple. Keep your stupid stone since you are so miserly about it.”
She tore the cord, flung the stone in my face and began to weep bitterly. I bounded from the bed to console her, pressed the stone into her palm and promised to buy her a golden chain as soon as we reached Himera.
“I really don’t need it,” I assured her. “The stone is quite worthless to me.”
Looking at me through her tears she said accusingly, “So now you are forcing worthless gifts on me! You certainly are not considerate. Yes, I know, you intend to keep me as your dog. Oh, why did you kindle my heart?”
Tiring of her talk, I said, “The stone is beautiful, but for my part you may throw it out the window. Only a moment ago it gleamed against your bosom, but I would rather look at your lovely breasts on either side of it. They are your finest jewels and suffice to make you the most beautiful woman wherever you may be.”
“Surely you don’t expect me to follow you naked to the ends of the earth to share the lot of a poor man?” she asked in a tight voice.