ed, for I am necessary to my
grandmother; she could not live without her child. I laugh her cares and
sorrows away, and when she is singing to me, or teaching me how to guide
the style, or strike the lute, a clearer light beams from her brow, the
furrows ploughed by grief disappear, her gentle eyes laugh, and she seems
to forget the evil past in the happy present."

"Before we part, I will ask her whether she will follow us home."

"Oh, how glad that makes me! and do you know, the first days of our
absence from each other do not seem so very dreadful to me. Now you are
to be my husband, I may surely tell you everything that pains or pleases
me, even when I dare not tell any one else, and so you must know, that,
when you leave, we expect two little visitors; they are the children of
the kind Phanes, whom your friend Gyges saved so nobly. I mean to be like
a mother to the little creatures, and when they have been good I shall
sing them a story of a prince, a brave hero, who took a simple maiden to
be his wife; and when I describe the prince I shall have you in my mind,
and though my little listeners will not guess it, I shall be describing
you from head to foot. My prince shall be tall like you, shall have your
golden curls and blue eyes, and your rich, royal dress shall adorn his
noble figure. Your generous heart, your love of truth, and your beautiful
reverence for the gods, your courage and heroism, in short, every thing
that I love and honor in you, I shall give to the hero of my tale. How
the children will listen! and when they cry, 'Oh, how we love the prince,
how good and beautiful he must be! if we could only see him? then I shall
press them close to my heart and kiss them as I kiss you now, and so they
will have gained their wish, for as you are enthroned in my heart, you
must be living within me and therefore near to them, and when they
embrace me they will embrace you too."

"And I shall go to my little sister Atossa and tell her all I have seen
on my journey, and when I speak of the Greeks, their grace, their
glorious works of art, and their beautiful women, I shall describe the
golden Aphrodite in your lovely likeness. I shall tell her of your
virtue, your beauty and modesty, of your singing, which is so sweet that
even the nightingale is silent in order to listen to it, of your love and
tenderness. But all this I shall tell her belongs to the divine Cypris,
and when she cries, 'O Aphrodite, could I but see