The Warm Girdle

THE WARM GIRDLE

"You believe you do not love me any more, oh, Teleas! and for a month you've passed your nights at table, as though the fruits and wines and honey could make you forget my mouth. You think you do not love me any more, poor fool!"

And saying that I untied my girdle, still moist with a slight perspiration, and wrapped it round his head. It was still warm with the heat of my belly; the perfume of my skin was wafted from its closely knitted mesh.

He breathed it in long draughts, his eyes tight-closed, then I felt that he was coming back to me and I even saw quite clearly his aroused desires which he did not hide from me; but I was able to resist them, by a ruse.

"Ah! no, my friend. Tonight Lysippos has me. Farewell!" And I added, as I fled: "Oh! glutton of fruits and vegetables! Bilitis' little garden has one fig, but it's a good one!"