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I was scarcely aware that I had been vociferating, "Vieni, Medea, mia dea," while the old lady bobbed about making up my fire. I stopped; a nice reputation I shall get! I thought, and all this will somehow get to Rome, and thence to Berlin. Sora Lodovica was leaning out of the window, pulling in the iron hook of the shrine-lamp which marks Sor Asdrubale's house. I ran to the window.

We are not here to bring the love we bear to women, though it be an act of our own choice, into comparison, nor rank it with the others. The fire of this, I confess, "Neque enim est dea nescia nostri Qux dulcem curis miscet amaritiem,"

But these fathers and mothers Lord help 'em! Were not the powers of nature stronger than those of discretion, and were not that busy dea bona to afford her genial aids, till tardy prudence qualified parents to manage their future offspring, how few people would have children! James and Arabella may have their motives; but what can be said for a father acting as this father has acted?

Roman women suffered no first day of May pass without celebrating the festival of Bona Dea; and two thousand years later, girls who know as little of the manners and customs of ancient Italy, as of the municipal regulations of fabulous "Manoa," lie down to sleep on the last day of April, and kissing the fond, maternal face that bends above their pillows, eagerly repeat: "You must wake and call me early, call me early, mother dear: To- morrow'll be the happiest time of all the glad new-year; Of all the glad new-year, mother, the maddest, merriest day, For I'm to be Queen o' the May, mother; I'm to be Queen o' the May."

What happiness for Dea that Gwynplaine was hideous! What good fortune for Gwynplaine that Dea was blind! Apart from their providential matching, they were impossible to each other. A mighty want of each other was at the bottom of their loves, Gwynplaine saved Dea. Dea saved Gwynplaine. Apposition of misery produced adherence.

Then he retreated again with more joy into his loneliness with Dea, having drawn his comparisons. What did he see around him? What were those living creatures of which his wandering life showed him so many specimens, changed every day? Always new crowds, always the same multitude, ever new faces, ever the same miseries. A jumble of ruins.

Tall, imperious and majestic, Dea Flavia unconscious alike of the deference of the crowd and the timorous astonishment of the slaves looked up at Cheiron, the auctioneer, and resumed with a touch of impatience in her rich young voice: "I said that I would bid thirty aurei for this girl!" Less than a minute had elapsed since Dea Flavia's sudden appearance on the scene.

Just at that moment a thin smoke rose above the flame of the lamp, and something like a piece of paper fell into ashes. It was the smoke which had caused Dea to sneeze. "What was that?" she asked. "Nothing," replied Gwynplaine. And he smiled. He had just burnt the duchess's letter. The conscience of the man who loves is the guardian angel of the woman whom he loves.

What matters? thought Ursus, to whom the heart of Dea was visible. And Dea, reassured, consoled and delighted, adored the angel whilst the people contemplated the monster, and endured, fascinated herself as well, though in the opposite sense, that dread Promethean laugh. True love is never weary. Being all soul it cannot cool. A brazier comes to be full of cinders; not so a star.

As he began, with increased appearance of lameness to labour up the slope, he once more heard Melchard's voice: "Jagun pakai snapong, kalau dea ta mow lepas. Kita mow dapat." Labouring still more, Dick glanced behind him and saw the two pursuers straining every nerve to overtake him, and for the moment giving no thought to Amaryllis.