The role of Ariadne would not suit you at all; you are a Circe.

Yet he is a splendid young nobleman-handsome, wealthy, amiable, and not wanting in wit." "Oh! I haven't given him up; very far from it," Zerbine replied, with a saucy smile.

"I shall guard him carefully, as the most precious gem in my casket.

Though I have quitted him for the moment, he will shortly follow me." "Fugax sequax, sequax fugax," the pedant rejoined; "these four Latin words, which have a cabalistic sound, not unlike the croaking of certain batrachians, and might have been borrowed, one would say, from the 'Comedy of the Frogs,' by one Aristophanes, an Athenian poet, contain the very pith and marrow of all theories of love and lovemaking; they would make a capital rule to regulate everybody's conduct--of the virile as well as of the fair sex." "And what under the sun do your fine Latin words mean, you pompous old pedant ?" asked Zerbine.

"You have neglected to translate them, entirely forgetting that not everybody has been professor in a college, and knight of the ferule, like yourself." "Their meaning," he replied, "may be expressed in this little couplet: 'If you fly from men, they'll be sure to pursue, But if you follow them, they will fly from you." "Ha! ha!" laughed Zerbine, "that's a verse that ought to be set to music." And she began singing it to a merry tune at the top of her voice; a voice so clear and ringing that it was a pleasure to hear it.
She accompanied her song with such an amusing and effective pantomime, representing flight and pursuit, that it was a pity she had not had a larger audience to enjoy it.