llows:

CHAPTER THE ONE HUNDRED AND THIRTIETH.

POLYAENOS TO CIRCE--GREETING.

Dear lady, I confess that I have often given cause for offense, for
I am only a man, and a young one, too, but I never committed a
deadly crime until today! You have my confession of guilt, I
deserve any punishment you may see fit to prescribe. I betrayed a
trust, I murdered a man, I violated a temple: demand my punishment
for these crimes. Should it be your pleasure to slay me I will come
to you with my sword; if you are content with a flogging I will run
naked to my mistress; only bear in mind that it was not myself but
my tools that failed me. I was a soldier, and ready, but I had no
arms. What threw me into such disorder I do not know, perhaps my
imagination outran my lagging body, by aspiring to too much it is
likely that I spent my pleasure in delay; I cannot imagine what the
trouble was. You bid me beware of paralysis; as if a disease which
prevented my enjoying you could grow worse! But my apology amounts
briefly to this; if you will grant me an opportunity of repairing my
fault, I will give you satisfaction.
Farewell

After dismissing Chrysis with these fair promises, I paid careful
attention to my body which had so evilly served me and, omitting the
bath, I annointed myself, in moderation, with unguents and placed myself
upon a more strengthening diet such as onions and snail's heads without
condiments, and I also drank more sparingly of wine; then, taking a short
walk before settling down to sleep, I went to bed without Giton. So
anxious was I to please her that I feared the outcome if my "brother" lay
tickling my side.

CHAPTER THE ONE HUNDRED AND THIRTY-FIRST.

Finding myself vigorous in mind and body when I arose next morning, I
went down to the same clump of plane trees, though I dreaded the spot as
one of evil omen, and commenced to wait for Chrysis to lead me on my way.
I took a short stroll and had just seated myself where I had sat the day
before, when she came under the trees, leading a little old woman by the
hand. "Well, Mr. Squeamish," she chirped, when she had greeted me, "have
you recovered your appetite?" In the meantime, the old hag:

A wine-soaked crone with twitching lips

brought out a twisted hank of different colored yarns and put it about