was dicier, for in his own domain ...
I was dancing in Rome,
and what occurred, or failed to, at the hotel
was not, as I recall,
the outcome of odious comparisons merely,
but of actions: the sheets
were thrown back, and Gabriele showed
a sincere if brackish
enthusiasm for my thighs-"columns more
melodious by night
than Memnon's temple at dawn "-and just then
Deucie, my doberman,
leaped on the bed, wild in my defence
or was it my defeat?-
another jealous bitch like the Marchesa Casati!
But could a dog deter
that lover at that point?
It
was my own
screams of "Deucie, down! "
which shrivelled my assailant to his doom
as only memory can:
Deucie-Duse: mine as much as his
the disgrace awakened
in a sacred name consigned to comedy,
the fiasco of farce-
laughter has no erectile tendencies:
Deucie and I were saved.
In Nice, too , that
third
time (counting was
a crucial part of it)
even desire , for him, was out of the question
without the distractions
of vanity. And love impossible. He would be
entitled only to
lies and funny business, and so I fell
or would have fallen yet
