Crassus. 
At least, she-devil, you have been well-treated.

Alicia. 
O tragic farce — not even rimes completed! 
Nay, darling! no rebellion.  When you know
My secret, you will understand.  You are bound
To Adela within the portico,
To me upon this ground. 
By day, in life, adore the Lares, man! 
By night, in deaht, make offering to Pan! 
Can you cut day from night by any endeavour? 
If so, both life and death were lost for ever. 
Come, the stream steepens.

Crassus. 
This road leads to hell.

Alicia. 
The way to heaven is shorter.

Crassus. 
Who can tell?

Alicia. 
I have measured it.

Crassus. 
You, girl?

Alicia. 
It is not hard.

Crassus. 
What did you make the height of it?

Alicia. 
One yard.

Crassus. 
You always mock me?

Alicia. 
Pity of my youth! 
I swerve not from, you stumble at, the truth.

Crassus. 
I like not jests.  This is a serious journey.

Alicia. 
Why did you make a mocker your attorney? 
The way to Rome leads through the Apennines. 
Bacchus has horns beneath the crown of vines. 
If you fear horns, make some polite excuse
Not to invoke him by the name Zagreus!

A faun [Passing among the trees]. 
Ye thought me a lamb
  With a crown of thorns;
I am royal, a ram
  With death in my horns. 
So mild and soft
  And feminine,
Ye held me aloft
  And frowned on sin! 
But I was awake
  In your clasp as I lay;
I roused the snake
  From its nest of clay;
And ere ye knew
  I had sunk my forehead
Through and through;
  Harsh and horrid
Through all the pleasure
  Of rose and vine
I thrust my treasure,
  The cone of the pine. 
Irru’s maid
  Was easily sated,
For she was afraid
  When Irru mated!

Crassus. 
Ha!  Ha!  Ha!  Ha!  Ha!  Ha!

Alicia. 
You would not laugh
Were you the maid!

Crassus. 
How could I be?

Alicia. 
Great calf! 
But you are all the same, blaspheme and jeer
At any mystery beyond your sphere
Of beer, and beef, and beer, and beef, and beer. 
Now you have frightened the shy god!

Crassus. 
Why heed? 
Between your — arms — is all the god I need.

Alicia. 
Prudish and coarse to the last.  Now hush indeed! 
The stream kisses the lake.  We near the shrine. 
Stir no snapped twig.  Let your foot — even yours —
Fall like a fawn’s.

Crassus. 
Your breath is like new wine.

Alicia. 
Hush now! no porpoise gambols!

Crassus. 
How obscure’s
The glimmer of the lake.  Is that the isle?