uld love him
for his goodness, and that she herself would be grateful to him all
her life, he could not master his emotion, and it seemed to him that
he would never be able in life to resist her prayer. The heart began to
melt in him. Her beauty intoxicated his senses, and he desired her;
but at the same time he felt that she was very dear to him, and that
in truth he might do homage to her, as to a divinity; he felt also
irresistible need of speaking of her beauty and of his own homage. As
the noise at the feast increased, he drew nearer to her, whispered kind,
sweet words flowing from the depth of his soul, words as resonant as
music and intoxicating as wine.

And he intoxicated her. Amid those strange people he seemed to her ever
nearer, ever dearer, altogether true, and devoted with his whole soul.
He pacified her; he promised to rescue her from the house of Caesar; he
promised not to desert her, and said that he would serve her. Besides,
he had spoken before at Aulus's only in general about love and the
happiness which it can give; but now he said directly that he loved her,
and that she was dear and most precious to him. Lygia heard such words
from a man's lips for the first time; and as she heard them it seemed
to her that something was wakening in her as from a sleep, that some
species of happiness was embracing her in which immense delight was
mingled with immense alarm. Her cheeks began to burn, her heart to beat,
her mouth opened as in wonder. She was seized with fear because she was
listening to such things, still she did not wish for any cause on earth
to lose one word. At moments she dropped her eyes; then again she raised
her clear glance to Vinicius, timid and also inquiring, as if she wished
to say to him, "Speak on!" The sound of the music, the odor of flowers
and of Arabian perfumes, began to daze her. In Rome it was the custom to
recline at banquets, but at home Lygia occupied a place between Pomponia
and little Aulus. Now Vinicius was reclining near her, youthful,
immense, in love, burning; and she, feeling the heat that issued from
him, felt both delight and shame. A kind of sweet weakness, a kind of
faintness and forgetfulness seized her; it was as if drowsiness tortured
her.

But her nearness to him began to act on Vinicius also. His nostrils
dilated, like those of an Eastern steed. The beating of his heart with
unusual throb was evident under his scarlet tunic; his breathing grew
short, and th