the inclination of us both; suppose it pleases me; to him it
will seem to be a crime. But the sons of AEolus[51] did not shun the
embraces of their sisters. But whence have I known of these? Why have I
furnished myself with these precedents? Whither am I hurried onward? Far
hence begone, ye lawless flames! and let not my brother be loved by me,
but as it is lawful for a sister {to love him}. But yet, if he had been
first seized with a passion for me, perhaps I might have indulged his
desires. Am I then, myself, to court him, whom I would not have
rejected, had he courted me? And canst thou speak out? And canst thou
confess it? Love will compel me. I can. Or if shame shall restrain my
lips, a private letter shall confess the latent flame."

This thought pleases her, this determines her wavering mind. She raises
herself on her side, and leaning on her left elbow, she says, "He shall
see it; let me confess my frantic passion. Ah, wretched me! How am I
degrading myself! What flame is my mind {now} kindling!" And {then},
with trembling hand, she puts together the words well weighed. Her right
hand holds the iron {pen}, the other, clean wax tablets.[52] She begins,
and {then} she hesitates; she writes, and {then} corrects what is
written; she marks, and {then} scratches out; she alters, and condemns,
and approves; and one while she throws them down when taken up, and at
another time, she takes them up again, when thrown aside. What she would
have, she knows not. Whatever she seems on the point of doing, is not to
her taste. In her features are assurance mingled with shame. {The word}
'sister' is written; it seems {as well} to efface {the word} 'sister,'
and {then} to write such words as these upon the smoothed wax: "Thy
lover wishes thee that health which she, herself, is not to enjoy,
unless thou shalt grant it. I am ashamed! Oh, I am ashamed to disclose
my name! and shouldst thou inquire what it is I wish; without my
name[53] could I wish my cause to be pleaded, and that I might not be
known as Byblis, until the hopes of {enjoying} my desires were realized.
There might have been as a proof to thee of my wounded heart, my {pale}
complexion, my falling away, my {downcast} looks, and my eyes often wet
with tears, sighs, too, fetched without any seeming cause; frequent
embraces too, and kisses, which, if perchance thou didst observe, could
not be deemed to be those of a sister. Still I, myself, though I had a
grievous wound in m