prosecute its conquests here in all the serenity of success, it
will not be able to escape from an infliction worse than any which
we dreamed of when we were immortals.

ARES.

And what is that, Aphrodite?

APHRODITE.

The blight of indifference.

VI

[APHRODITE _and_ CIRCE _are seated on the grass in a little dell
surrounded by beechwoods. Far away a bell is heard._]

CIRCE.

What is that curious distant sound? Is it a bird?

APHRODITE.

Cydippe tells me that there is a temple on the hill beyond these
woods. I wonder to whom amongst us it is dedicated?

CIRCE.

I think it must be to you, Aphrodite, for now it is explained that
on coming hither I met a throng of men and maidens, sauntering
slowly along in twos, exactly as they used to do at Paphos.

APHRODITE.

Were they walking apart, or wound together by garlands?

CIRCE.

They were wound together by the arm of the boy coiled about the
waist of the girl, or resting upon it, a symbol, no doubt, of your
cestus.

APHRODITE [_eagerly_].

With any animation of gesture, Circe?

CIRCE.

With absolutely none. The maidens were dressed--but not all of
them--in robes of that very distressing electric blue that bites
into the eye, that blue which never was on sky or sea, and which
was absolutely banished from every colour-combination in Olympus.
It was employed in Hades as a form of punishment, if you recollect.

APHRODITE.

No doubt, then, this procession was a penitential one, and its
object to appease my offended deity. But what a mistake, poor
things! No one ever regained my favour by making a frump of herself.

CIRCE.

After these couples, came, in a very slow but formless moving
group, figures of a sombre and spectral kind, draped, both males
and females, in dull black, with little ornaments of gold in their
hands. It was with the utmost amazement that, on their coming
closer, I recognised some of the faces as those of the ruddy,
gentle barbarians to whom we owe our existence here. You cannot
think how painful it was to see them thus travestied. In their
well-fitting daily dress they look very attractive in a rustic
mode; there is one large one that labours in the barn, who
reminds me, when his sleeves are turned up, of Ulysses. But, oh!
Aphrodite, you must contrive to let them know that you pardon
their shortcomings, and relieve them from the horrors of this
remorseful costume. I know not which is more depressing to
the he