my jolly roysterer! but thou art not the first nor wilt thou be
the last that hath revelled in her store of charms! No matter!"--
and he laughed foolishly ... "Better a wild dancer than a tame
prude!" Here he looked about him in confused bewilderment.. "Where
is Lysia? Was she not here a moment since? ..." and he staggered
toward the neighboring pavilion, and dashed the dividing curtain
aside ... "Lysia! ... Lysia! ..." he shouted noisily,--then,
receiving no answer, he flung himself down on the vacant couch of
roses, and gathering up a handful of the crumpled flowers, kissed
them passionately,--"The witch has flown!" he said, laughing again
that mirthless, stupid laugh as he spoke--"She doth love to
tantalize me thus! ... Tell me! what dost thou think of her? Is
she not a peerless moon of womanhood? ... doth she not eclipse all
known or imaginable beauty? ... Aye! ... and I will tell thee a
secret,--she is mine!--mine from the dark tresses down to the
dainty feet! ... mine, all mine, so long as I shall please to call
her so! ...--notwithstanding that the foolish people of Al-Kyris
think she is impervious to love, self-centered, holy and
'immaculate'! Bah! ... as if a woman ever was 'immaculate'! But
mark you! ... though she loves me,--me, crowned Laureate of the
realm, she loves no other man! And why? Because no other man is
found half so worthy of love! All men must love her, . . Nirjalis
loved her, and he is dead because of overmuch presumption, . . and
many there be who shall still die likewise, for love of her, but
_I_ am her chosen and elected one,--her faith is mine!--her heart
is mine,--her very soul is mine!--mine I would swear though all
the gods of the past, present, and future denied her constancy!"

Here his uncertain, wandering gaze met the grave, pained, and
almost stern regard of Theos. "Why dost thou stare thus owl-like