He shuddered again.
'But perhaps one day they will open their eyes,' I said.
He was silent.
'But put such places from your mind,' I said. 'Now you are free. No longer now need you deny your feelings. No longer now need you conceal, or deny, your manhood.'
'I am truly free?' he said.
'Yes,' I said. I handed him the papers, and he looked at them, and then put them in his tunic.
'I do not know how to act, how to be,' he said.
'Your instincts will tell you, your blood,' I said. 'Their reality transcends your indoctrination, presented under the colors of reason, as though reason, itself, had content.'
'I am a man,' he said.
'It is true,' I said.
'You would touch my hand?' he asked.
'I grasp it,' I said, 'in friendship, and, too, in friendship, I place my other hand on your shoulder. Do so as well with me, if you wish.'
We held one another's hand, our hands then clasped. My left hand was on his right shoulder, and his on mine. 'You are a man,' I said. 'Do not fear to be one.'
'I am grateful,' he said, 'a€”sir.'
'It is nothing,' I said, 'sir.'
'I think it would be well for him to leave soon,' said Marcus. 'For all we know Appanius may have repented of his indiscretion and be returning with men.' Lavinia looked up, agonized, at Milo.
'I liked your 'Lurius of Jad',' I told him.'
'Thank you,' said Milo.
'I didn't,' said Marcus.
'Marcus is prejudiced,' I said.
'But he is also right,' he said.
'Oh?' I said.
'You see?' said Marcus.
'I liked it,' I said.
'I am not really an actor,' said Milo.
'Oh?' I said.
'No,' he said. 'An actor should be able to act. What I do is to play myself, under different names. That is all.'
'That is acting, of a sort,' I said.
'I suppose you are right,' he said.
'Of course, I am right,' I said.
'You are a wonderful actor, Master!' exclaimed Lavinia to Milo. Then she put down her head, quickly, fearing that she might be struck.
'You called me 'Master',' he said to her.
She lifted her head, timidly.
'It is appropriate,' I said. 'She is a slave. You are a free man.' She had, of course, spoken without permission, but it seemed almost as though she had been unable to help herself. Considering the circumstances I decided to overlook the matter. To be sure, it would not do for her to make a habit of such errancies. 'Forgive me, Master!' she whispered to me.
'You may speak,' I said.
'It is only,' she said, 'that I think the great and beautiful Milo is a wondrous actor. It is not that he acts a thousand roles and we cannot identify him from one role to the next. It is rather that he is himself, in a thousand roles, and it is himself, his wondrous self, that we love!'
'There,' I said to Marcus. 'See?'
'Love?' said Milo, looking at the kneeling slave.
'Of course, my opinion is only that of a slave,' she said, looking down. 'That is true,' I admitted.
'Love?' asked Milo, again, looking at the slave.
'Yes, Master,' she said, not raising her head.
'Get your head up, slave,' I said to her.
Lavinia raised her head.
'Put your head back, as far as you can,' I said.
She did so. This raised the line of her breasts, and prominently displayed the collar.
'She is pretty, isn't she? I asked.
'She is a beautiful slave,' said Milo.
Tears of vulnerability, and emotion, filled Lavinia's eyes.
'Milo had best be on his way,' said Marcus.
'Yes,' I said.
Lavinia sobbed, but she could not, of course, break position.
'But moments ago,' said Milo to me, 'you owned us both!'
'True,' I said.
'You should leave,' said Marcus to Milo.
Again Lavinia sobbed, a sob which shook her entire body, but again she could not break position.
'I think,' said Milo to me, 'that I would fain remain your slave.'
'Why?' I asked.
'That I might upon occasion, when permitted,' said Milo, 'have the opportunity to look upon this woman.'
'Do you find her of interest?' I asked.
'Of course!' he said, startled.
'Then she is yours,' I said.
'Mine!' he cried.
'Of course,' I said. 'She is only a slave, a property, a trifle, a bauble. I give her to you. Here is the key to her collar.' I pressed the key into his hand. 'You may break position,' I said to the slave.
She flung herself to her belly before me, covering my feet with kisses. 'Thank you! Thank you, Master!' she wept.
'Your new master is there,' I said, indicating Milo.
Quickly then she lay before him, kissing his feet. 'I love you, Master!' she wept. 'I love you!'
He reached down, awkwardly, to lift her up, but it seemed she fought him, struggling, and could not be raised higher than to her knees, and then, he desisting in amazement, she had her head down again, to his feet, in obeisance, and was kissing them. She was laughing, and crying. 'I love you, Master!' she wept. 'I love you! I will be hot, devoted and dutiful! I am yours! I will live to please you! I will live to love and serve you! I love you, my master!' She kissed him again, and again, about the feet, the ankles, the sides of the calves. Then she looked up at him, timidly, love bright in her eyes. 'I will try to be a good slave to you, Master!' she said.
'Surely I must free you!' he cried.
'No!' she suddenly cried, in terror.
'No?' he said.
'No!' she said. 'Please, no, my Master!'
'I have waited too long for my slavery! It is what I have desired and craved all my life! Do not take it from me!'
'I do not understand,' he said, haltingly.
'I am not a man!' she said. 'I am a woman! I want to love and serve, wholly, helplessly, unquestioningly, irreservedly, unstintingly! I want to ask nothing and to give all! I want to be possessed by you, to be yours literally, to be owned by you!'
He was speechless.
'My slavery is precious to me,' she said. 'Please, Master, do not take it from me!'
