Book V, 275

One afternoon pretty Menecratis lay outstretched in sleep with her arm twined round her head. Boldly I entered her bed and had to my delight accomplished half the journey of love, when she woke up, and with her white hands set to tearing out all my hair. She struggled till all was over, and then said, her eyes filled with tears: “Wretch, you have had your will, and taken that for which I often refused your gold ; and now you will leave me and take another to your breast; for you all are servants of insatiable Cypris.”