ouse, in
a state of black melancholy, hoping to revive my spirits in the fresh
air, but scarcely had I set foot upon the public promenade when a girl,
by no means homely, met me, and, calling me Polyaenos, the name I had
assumed since my metamorphosis, informed me that her mistress desired
leave to speak with me. "You must be mistaken," I answered, in
confusion, "I am only a servant and a stranger, and am by no means worthy
of such an honor.")

CHAPTER THE ONE HUNDRED AND TWENTY-SIXTH.

("You yourself," she replied, "are the one to whom I was sent but,)
because you are well aware of your good looks, you are proud and sell
your favors instead of giving them. What else can those wavy well-combed
locks mean or that face, rouged and covered with cosmetics, or that
languishing, wanton expression in your eyes? Why that gait, so precise
that not a footstep deviates from its place, unless you wish to show off
your figure in order to sell your favors? Look at me, I know nothing
about omens and I don't study the heavens like the astrologers, but I can
read men's intentions in their faces and I know what a flirt is after
when I see him out for a stroll; so if you'll sell us what I want there's
a buyer ready, but if you will do the graceful thing and lend, let us be
under obligations to you for the favor. And as for your confession that
you are only a common servant, by that you only fan the passion of the
lady who burns for you, for some women will only kindle for canaille and
cannot work up an appetite unless they see some slave or runner with his
clothing girded up: a gladiator arouses one, or a mule-driver all covered
with dust, or some actor posturing in some exhibition on the stage. My
mistress belongs to this class, she jumps the fourteen rows from the
stage to the gallery and looks for a lover among the gallery gods at the
back." Puffed up with this delightful chatter. "Come now, confess, won't
you," I queried, "is this lady who loves me yourself?" The waiting maid
smiled broadly at this blunt speech. "Don't have such a high opinion of
yourself," said she, "I've never given in to any servant yet; the gods
forbid that I should ever throw my arms around a gallows-bird. Let the
married women see to that and kiss the marks of the scourge if they like:
I'll sit upon nothing below a knight, even if I am only a servant." I
could not help marveling, for my part, at such discordant passions, and I
thought it nothing