return. Let us not quarrel among ourselves but drink wine moderately and with deliberation, just like this. Have I already told you that last night I descended to the underworld to accompany my wife Aura, or at least to see her on her way?”
Just then Arsinoe came out of the shop and showed us the parasol she had chosen. It was no more than the width of several hands, square and edged with fringe, undeniably a fine thing; but it would not have shielded even a frog from the sun.
“Oh, Turms, I am so pleased with this parasol!” she exclaimed. “The merchant also promised to repair my old one, so that now I have two. But I must leave now. I will surely remember you, Turms, especially when I look at this enchanting parasol. Have a good journey, and do not forget me immediately, either.”
“Arsinoe,” I said threateningly, “remember that I gave you a new name. With it I control you whether you wish it or not.”
She patted my cheek and laughed giddily. “Of course, dear Turms, just as you wish. But at this moment you are just drunk enough not to be able to answer for your words.”
She turned and went down the street, holding the new parasol daintily on her shoulder and lifting the hem of her robe with the other hand as she jumped lightly over the obstacles heaped by the storm. As I tried to run after her I stumbled over the first timber, crashed onto my face and was unable to rise until Dorieus and Mikon helped me to my feet. Holding onto one another we started back to the inn, Tanakil behind us with a large parasol over her shoulder.
5.
I awakened in the middle of the night to a paralyzing agony, as though the venom of a snake were spreading through my veins. At the moment of awakening I knew and remembered everything that had happened, and I knew that the goddess had seized me in her power. She had made me love a frivolous woman whose words I could not believe and whose very body lied in my embrace.
But even as I thought the worst of her I saw distinctly her changing face and slanting brows, and her eyes grew dark before me. Perhaps she had experienced a thousand men. Perhaps she was a slut, as Tanakil claimed. But at the very thought of her my mind was torn by desire, tenderness and longing, and I knew that every moment apart from her was mortally dreadful.
I staggered to the courtyard and drank some cold water from a clay container hanging by the door. The sounds had stilled and the lamps had been extinguished in the city. The firmament was full of stars and the new moon, a cruel sickle, threatened me from the edge of the sky.
I went into the stable and in a basket found the pegs belonging to Tanakil’s travel tent. Then I crept through the night to the gate of the temple. It was closed, but the guard was not on the wall and no sound came from within. I circled the wall until I found a suitable place, thrust one tent peg between the stones, rose onto it and then thrust in another. In that manner I built steps for myself and reached the top of the wall. Crawling on my belly I finally found the guard’s stairs and descended into the inner courtyard.
Heaps of rubble left by the storm were still there. Dimly I saw the gleam of the marble peristyle around the fountain and groped my way to it.
I prostrated myself by the fountain and prayed, “You foam-born, by your eternal fountain, heal me of the agony of my love. You kindled it and only you can extinguish it.”
By leaning over the edge I managed to touch the surface of the water with a willow twig and thus got a few drops into my mouth. Carefully I tossed a silver coin into the fountain. The light of the new moon brightened and the goddess Artemis watched me ominously from the sky. But I had no regret. I was not afraid of her fatal arrows, and around my neck was the moonstone which shielded me from madness.
“Come,” I called, “appear before me, you most glorious of deities- without a priest, without the mediation of a mortal woman, though I burn to ashes at sight of you.”
From the depths of the fountain I heard a gurgle as though someone had replied to me. Looking into the water I thought I saw ripples. I began to feel dizzy and had to sit up and rub my eyes to remain conscious.
For a long time nothing happened. Then a shadowy body of light began to assume shape before me. It was winged and naked but so immaterial that I could see the columns through it. She was fairer than all mortal women and even Arsinoe’s living beauty was but the shadow of this body of light in mortal clay.
“Aphrodite, Aphrodite!” I whispered. “Is it you, goddess?”
She shook her head sadly and looked at me with reproachful eyes. “Do you not know me? No, I see that you do not. But some day I will enfold you in my arms and bear you away on powerful wings.”
“Who are you then, that I may know you?” I asked.
She smiled a radiant smile that pierced my heart. “I am your guardian spirit,” she said. “I know you and am bound to you. Pray not to earthly gods nor surrender yourself to their power. You yourself are immortal if you but dare admit it.”
She shook her beautiful head forlornly. “Images of you will be sculptured,” she said, “and offerings made to you. I am within you and of you until that final moment when you recognize me and I kiss the mortal breath from your mouth. Oh, Turms, bind not yourself to earthly deities. Both Artemis and Aphrodite are but jealous, capricious and malevolent spirits of the earth and air. They have their power and their sorcery and they are both competing for you. But neither the moon nor sun will give you immortality, merely the seat of oblivion. And e-gain you must return, again you will bind me to the pain of your birth fad to your living, greedy human body.”
My mortal eyes reveled in her radiance. Then doubt crept into my mind. “You are only a vision,” I said, “like other visions. Why should you appear to me just at this moment if you have accompanied me all my life?”
“You are in danger of binding yourself,” she explained. “Never before have you wanted to do that. Now you are ready to do so for the sake of a mortal woman, for foam and sensual pleasure. You came here to bind yourself to Aphrodite although you are the son of the storm. If you only had sufficient faith in yourself, Turms, you would know better.”
I replied stubbornly, “That woman, Arsinoe, is blood of my blood. Without her I cannot and will not live. Never before have I yearned for anything so terribly, and I am ready to bind myself to whichever goddess will give her to me for the duration of this life. I do not even ask for another life. So tempt me not, you unknown one, as fair as you are.”
“Do you really think I am beautiful?” she asked and her wings trembled. Then, angered by her own vanity, she rebuked me sharply. “Do not try to confuse me, Turms. I wish I were like those exasperating earth deities so that I might assume a woman’s body if only for a moment to box your ears. You are so wicked and so difficult to protect.”
“Then why don’t you disappear?” I demanded. “I called the goddess, not you. You are free to abandon me if you wish. I have no need of you.”
The body of light quivered with rage. Then mournfully she bowed her head and said submissively, “Let it be as you wish, Turms, but for the sake of your immortality swear that you will not bind yourself. Even without it you will get whatever you want. You will get it through your own power if you but believe in yourself. You will even get that detestable bitch Arsinoe. But do not imagine that I want to be with you when you embrace that hateful body of clay. Artemis also has appeared to you and promised you earthly riches. Let them bribe you if you wish but under no circumstances bind yourself to them. You will not be indebted to them for their gifts. Accept whatever is given to you on earth, for sacrifices are made to immortals. Remember that always.”
Her speech quickened, her wings flashed. “Turms, you are more than a human if only you will believe it. Fear nothing either here or beyond. Turms, the greatest courage is in believing oneself to be more than just a human. However tired, however dejected you are, never succumb to the temptation to bind yourself to the earth deities. Rejoice in your wicked body if you wish. It does not concern me. But do not bind yourself.”
As I listened to her convincing words I was filled with courage. I must win Arsinoe through my own strength, and the strength was in me. I had been consecrated by the thunderbolt and that consecration sufficed for my lifetime.
She read my thoughts, her body grew dazzling and her face radiant. “I must go, Turms, my own. But remember me sometimes, if only for a moment. Yearn for me even a little. You must realize why I long to enfold
