and, leaving Eumolpus behind—for he was reciting a poem in the bath—I pull Giton down a dark and dirty passage, after me, and fly with all speed to my lodgings. Arriving there, I slam the door shut, embrace him convulsively, and press my face against his which is all wet with tears. For a long time, neither of us could find his voice, and as for the lad, his shapely bosom was heaving continuously with choking sobs. “Oh the disgraceful inconsistency of it all,” I cried, “for I love you still, although you abandoned me, and no scar from that gaping wound is left upon this breast! What can you say that will justify you in yielding your love to a stranger? Did I merit such an affront?” He held his head higher when he found that he was loved.
That were a labor Hercules to tame!
Conflicting passions yield in Cupid’s name.
(“And furthermore,” I went on), “I was not the one that laid the cause of our love before
