they were in place at last, he rubbed the bloody gums with an herb salve and collected the fee for his work. It was not small, but in order to increase his gains he thrust upon Tanakil tooth cleansers, face ointments, eyebrow darkeners and Carthaginian cheek coloring which made wrinkles invisible.
When he had finally left I seized Tanakil by both hands and said, “We are mature people, both of us. You are familiar with the goddess’s secret rites here in Eryx, but I also have powers that you don’t suspect. Remember what happened to Aura when I touched her. Who is the woman in whom the goddess appears to the suppliants at the temple?”
Tanakil drew back in alarm, glanced about her and said, “Speak softly, although I don’t know what you mean.”
I said firmly, “She is a woman, made of flesh and blood like me. Remember that it is in my power to reveal many things to Dorieus that might turn him from you despite your new teeth. So be frank with me and tell me what you know.”
She pondered the matter for a moment. “What exactly do you want?” she asked. “Let us be friends. Of course I shall help you if I can.”
“I want to meet that woman of the temple again,” I demanded. “As soon as possible and preferably in daylight and by ourselves.”
“That is forbidden,” insisted Tanakil. “Besides, she is but a cheap vessel whom the goddess fills with wine if she so chooses. The vessels change, but the wine of the goddess remains the same. The power is not hers. She is but a slave who has been trained in the goddess’s school.”
“That may be,” I said, “but it is precisely that cheap vessel that I desire, preferably empty and without wine, for I intend to fill her with my own wine.”
Tanakil looked at me thoughtfully, touched her new teeth and admitted, “I am consecrated, as you guessed. I will confess that I have many times helped that woman play pranks on men as they sleep the sleep of the goddess. It was she who helped Dorieus to see me fairer than Helen of Troy and to enjoy unsuspected delights in my embrace.”
“Who is she?” I asked.
“How should I know?” Tanakil shrugged her shoulders. “Such women are bought when they are young girls and are trained in the temple. This one, I think, has been trained in Carthage and has traveled in other lands as well to develop the necessary talents. The temples frequently exchange gifted women, but one who has risen to Eryx can go no farther. She can live like a goddess and experience all the pleasures of such a life until she becomes insane or useless. Don’t think of her, Turms. You are only wasting your time.”
“Tanakil,” I said, “once you told me that you believe in the goddess. I also believe in her, as I must after the many indications she has given to me of herself. She has the power to confuse the selfish calculations of humans, including even her own priests. Her whim brought me to Eryx. Her whim revealed that woman to me, and it is her whim that forces me to meet that woman again. How could I resist her whim? Help me, Tanakil. For your own sake, for my sake and also for the sake of that woman.”
Irritably Tanakil replied, “Why don’t you entrust your problem to the priest? He could prove to you better than I how wrong you are.”
“Why don’t you go to the priest yourself?” I pleaded. “Tell him that you still need the kind of advice that only a woman can give. Surely the woman is not a prisoner. Surely she can leave the temple with a trustworthy companion. After all, she appears to suppliants in many different guises and probably no one but the priests and you and naturally the temple servants even know her true face. Surely she can move as a woman among women even though she serves the goddess by night.”
“Of course she has her own amusements,” conceded Tanakil. “In fact, she is the worst slut I know. In the summer she even appears to the sailors, drovers and shepherds on the mountain slopes. No, Turms, turn your thoughts away from her. If I am an experienced and even a treacherous old woman, she is immeasurably more experienced and treacherous.”
Her cruel words alarmed me but I was sure that she was deliberately speaking unkindly of Arsinoe to lead me astray and to free herself from the predicament. I saw before me those high slanting brows, the vivid face, the beautiful mouth and the white neck. I still felt her womanly warmth on my limbs and everything within me cried out that there could be nothing evil in her.
“Tanakil,” I said, “look me in the eyes. You must obey me. Since it is so easy, go and bring her to me. In the name of the goddess I demand that you fulfill my request. Otherwise she will abandon you.”
The words made Tanakil hesitate. As a woman she knew better than I the capriciousness of the goddess and feared that the goddess really would forsake her.
“Let it happen as you wish,” she said with a sigh. “But only on condition that the woman herself consents to meet you as a person among people and in daylight. It is difficult for me to believe that, for there is not much to see in her face.”
When she had combed her hair, painted her face and donned her jewels she actually left for the temple. With the new teeth in her mouth she walked erect and with her chin up.
Nor did she remain long. Soon she reappeared with a woman dressed from head to feet in Phoenician garb and shielding her face from the sun with a fringe-bordered parasol. They came through the house to the terrace and the orchard under the flowering fruit trees. Hot waves beat through my body at sight of them. Tanakil left the woman sitting on a stone bench and said that she would bring food and drink.
“Turms,” she called, “come and make sure that none of the lowly servants disturb this goddess of the temple. I want to serve her with my own hands.”
As I took those few steps toward Arsinoe my limbs were like water and my lips trembled. Blossoms fell to my feet and the sea at the foot of the mountain was restless. She closed her parasol, raised her head and looked me in the face.
I recognized the high slanting brows but not the eyes or the cruel painted mouth.
“Arsinoe,” I whispered and extended my hand. But I did not dare to touch her.
The woman wrinkled her arched forehead impatiently. “The sunlight makes my temples throb and I have not slept enough. If I did not respect Tanakil so highly I certainly would not have awakened so early and come here to visit her. But I don’t know you. Were you speaking to me? What do you wish?”
The paint made her face look hard. In talking she narrowed her eyes to mere slits, and there were wrinkles at their corners. Her face was more experienced than I had believed in the lamplight, but the longer I looked at her the more clearly I began to discern her other face through the paint.
“Arsinoe,” I repeated in a whisper, “don’t you really remember me?”
The corners of her mouth began to tremble. She opened her eyes and they were no longer furtive but shining with joy.
“Turms, oh Turms!” she cried. “Do you really recognize my face in the daylight and as I am? Do you really fear me, like a little boy at a forbidden gate? Oh, Turms, if you only knew how afraid I myself was.”
She sprang to her feet and ran into my arms. I felt the quivering of; her body through her garment as I wound my arms around her.
“Arsinoe, Arsinoe!” I whispered. “Of course I recognize you.”
Her face began to glow as though I were holding the goddess herself in my arms. The sky above us swelled to a mighty blue and my own blood roared in my ears.
“Arsinoe,” I said, “for this I was born, for this I lived, for this I saw •my restless dreams. The veil no longer covers your face. You have shown me your face and this moment I am ready to die.”
She placed her palms against my chest. “An arrow has pierced my heart,” she said, “and my blood runs dry whenever you look at me, Turms. Whenever you smile your godlike smile I turn powerless. How strong and beautiful are your manly limbs! Hold me tightly lest I fall. And I thought that I was an invulnerable servant of the goddess!”
She pressed her mouth against my neck, bit my chest and writhed in my lap until the brooch at her shoulder opened and her robe fell to the ground. The wind began to whine and fallen petals blew over us but no power on earth could have separated us. Anyone could have pierced us with the same spear and we would not even have been aware of it. Then her lips turned cold, her eyelids quivered, a cry burst from her throat and she grew completely limp.
Only then did I come to my senses and look around. The wind was tearing at the fruit trees and Tanakil stood
