at my feet and shoulders the wings of Zethes or Calaeis.

_Epicurus._ Leontion walks the nimblest to-day.

_Ternissa._ To display her activity and strength, she runs before us.
Sweet Leontion, how good she is! but she should have stayed for us: it
would be in vain to try to overtake her.

No, Epicurus! Mind! take care! you are crushing these little
oleanders--and now the strawberry plants--the whole heap. Not I,
indeed. What would my mother say, if she knew it? And Leontion! she
will certainly look back.

_Epicurus._ The fairest of the Eudaimones never look back: such are
the Hours and Love, Opportunity and Leontion.

_Ternissa._ How could you dare to treat me in this manner? I did not
say again I hated anything.

_Epicurus._ Forgive me!

_Ternissa._ Violent creature!

_Epicurus._ If tenderness is violence. Forgive me; and say you love
me.

_Ternissa._ All at once? could you endure such boldness?

_Epicurus._ Pronounce it! whisper it.

_Ternissa._ Go, go. Would it be proper?

_Epicurus._ Is that sweet voice asking its heart or me? let the
worthier give the answer.

_Ternissa._ O Epicurus! you are very, very dear to me; and are the
last in the world that would ever tell you were called so.

FOOTNOTES:

[7] The Attic month of Puanepsion had its commencement in the latter
days of October; its name is derived from +puana+, the legumes
which were offered in sacrifice to Apollo at that season.

[8] The thirteenth of Elaphebolion was the tenth of April.

DANTE AND BEATRICE

_Dante._ When you saw me profoundly pierced with love, and reddening
and trembling, did it become you, did it become you, you whom I have
always called _the most gentle Bice_, to join in the heartless
laughter of those girls around you? Answer me. Reply unhesitatingly.
Requires it so long a space for dissimulation and duplicity? Pardon!
pardon! pardon! My senses have left me; my heart being gone, they
follow.

_Beatrice._ Childish man! pursuing the impossible.

_Dante._ And was it this you laughed at? We cannot touch the hem of
God's garment; yet we fall at His feet and weep.

_Beatrice._ But weep not, gentle Dante! fall not before the weakest of
His creatures, willing to comfort, unable to relieve you. Consider a
little. Is laughter at all times the signal or the precursor of
derision? I smiled, let me avow it, from the pride I felt in your
preference of me; and if I laughed, it was to conceal my sentiments.
Did you ne