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 the expressions that fell from his lips were broken. For the
first time, too, he was so near her. His thoughts grew disturbed; he
felt a flame in his veins which he tried in vain to quench with wine.
Not wine, but her marvellous face, her bare arms, her maiden breast
heaving under the golden tunic, and her form hidden in the white folds
of the peplus, intoxicated him more and more. Finally, he seized her
arm above the wrist, as he had done once at Aulus's, and drawing her
toward him whispered, with trembling lips,--"I love thee, Callina,--
divine one."