CHAPTER VI.
Hermon rose from his couch the next morning alert and ready for newpleasures.
He had scarcely left the bath when envoys from the Ephebi and theyounger artists invited him to the festivities which they had arrangedin his honour. He joyously accepted, and also promised messengers frommany of Archias's friends, who wished to have the famous blind sculptoramong their guests, to be present at their banquets.
He still felt as if he were intoxicated, and found neither dispositionnor time for quiet reflection. His great strength, fettered as it wereby his loss of sight, now also began to stir. Fate itself withheld himfrom the labour which he loved, yet in return it offered him a wealth ofvarying pleasure, whose stimulating power he had learned the day before.He still relished the draught from the beaker of homage proffered by hisfellow-citizens; nay, it seemed as if it could not lose its sweetnessfor a long time.
He joined the ladies before noon, and his newly awakened feeling of joybeamed upon them scarcely less radiantly than yesterday. Though Thyonemight wonder that a man pursued by Nemesis could allow himself to beborne along so thoughtlessly by the stream of pleasure, Daphne certainlydid not grudge him the festal season which, when it had passed, couldnever return to the blind artist. When it was over, he would yearn forthe quiet happiness at her side, which gazed at him like the calm eyesof the woman he loved. With her he would cast anchor for the remainderof his life; but first must come the period when he enjoyed thecompensation now awarded to him for such severe sufferings.
His heart was full of joy as he greeted Daphne and the Lady Thyone, whomhe found with her; but his warm description of the happy emotion whichhad overpowered him at the abundant honours lavished upon him wasinterrupted by Archias.
In his usual quick, brisk manner, he asked whether Hermon wished tooccupy the beautiful villa with the magnificent garden on Lake Mareotis,inherited from Myrtilus, which could scarcely be reached in a vehiclefrom the Brucheium in less than an hour, or the house situated in thecentre of the city, and Hermon promptly decided in favour of the latter.
His uncle, and probably the ladies also, had expected the contrary.Their silence showed this plainly enough, and Hermon therefore addedin a tone of explanation that later the villa would perhaps suit hiscondition better, but now he thought it would be a mistake to retireto the quiet which half the city was conspiring to disturb. No onecontradicted him, and he left the women's apartment with a slightfeeling of vexation, which, however, was soon jested away by the gayfriends who sought him.
When he removed to the city house the next day, he had not yet foundtime for a serious talk with Daphne. His uncle, who had managedthe estate of Myrtilus, and wished to give Hermon an account of hisinheritance, was refused by the blind artist, who assured him that heknew Archias had greatly increased rather than diminished his property,and thanked him sincerely and warmly. In the convenient and spaciouscity house the young sculptor very soon thought he had good reason to besatisfied with his choice.
Most of his friends were busy artists, and what loss of time every visitto the remote villa would have imposed upon them, what haste he himselfwould have been obliged to use to reach home from the bath, where heoften spent many hours, from the wrestling school, from the meetings offashionable people in the Paneum gardens, and at sunset by the seashoreon the royal highway in the Brucheium. All these places were very farfrom the villa. It would have required whole hours, too, to reach afamous cookshop in the Canopus, at whose table he liked to assemblebeloved guests or revel with his friends. The theatre, the Odeum, mostof the public buildings, as well as the houses of his best friends,and especially the beautiful Glycera, were easily reached from his cityhome, and, among the temples, that of Demeter, which he often visited topray, offer sacrifices, and rejoice in the power of attraction which hisstatue of the goddess exerted upon the multitude. It stood at the backof the cella in a place accessible to the priesthood alone, visibleonly through the open doors, upon a pedestal which his fellow-artistspronounced rather too high. Yet his offer to have it made smaller wasnot accepted, because had it been lower the devout supplicants who stoodthere to pray could not have raised their eyes to it.
It was not only at the festivals of the dead that he went to the Greekcemetery, where he had had a magnificent monument erected for his deadmother. If his head ached after a nocturnal carouse, or the disagreeablealarming chill stole over him which he had felt for the first time whenhe falsely answered Thyone that he was still under the ban of Nemesis,he went to the family monuments, supplied them with gifts, hadsacrifices offered to the souls of the beloved dead, and in this waysometimes regained a portion of his lost peace of mind.
The banquet in the evening always dispelled whatever still oppressedhim on his return home from these visits, for, though months had elapsedsince his brilliant reception, he was still numbered, especially inartist circles, with the most honoured men; he, the blind man, no longerstood in any one's way; conversation gained energy and meaning throughthe vivacity of his fervid intellect, which seemed actually deepened byhis blindness when questions concerning art were at issue, and from amodest fellow-struggler he had become a patron bestowing orders.
The sculptor Soteles, who had followed his footsteps since theapprenticeship in Rhodes, was intrusted with the erection of themonument to Myrtilus in Tennis, and another highly gifted youngsculptor, who pursued his former course, with the execution of the oneto his mother.
From a third he ordered a large new mixing vessel of chased silver forthe society of Ephebi, whose members had lauded him, at the magnificentfestival given in his honour, with genuine youthful fervour.
In the designs for these works his rich and bold gift of invention andthe power of his imagination proved their full value, and even his olderfellow-artists followed him with sincere admiration when, in spite ofhis darkened eyes, he brought before them distinctly, and often evenwith the charcoal or wax tablet in his hand, what he had in mind. Whatmagnificent things might not this man have created had he retained hissight, what masterpieces might not have been expected! and his formerworks, which had been condemned as unlovely, offensive, and exaggerated,were now loudly admired; nay, the furious Maenads struggling onthe ground and the Street Boy Eating Figs, which were no longer hisproperty, were sold at high prices. No meeting of artists was completewithout Hermon, and the great self-possession which success and wealthbestowed, besides his remarkable talent and the energy peculiar to him,soon aided him to great influence among the members of his profession;nay, he would speedily have reached the head of their leaders had notthe passionate impetuosity of his warlike nature led the more cautiousto seek to restrain the powerful enthusiast.
Archias's wealthy friends had no such apprehension. To them the laudedblind artist was not much more than a costly dish certain to pleasetheir guests; yet this, too, was no trifle in social circles which spentsmall fortunes for a rare fish.
At the banquets of these princes of commerce he often met Daphne, stillmore frequently the beautiful Glycera, whose husband, an old ship-ownerof regal wealth, was pleased to see famous men harnessed to his youngwife's chariot of victory. Hermon's heart had little to do with theflirtation to which Glycera encouraged him at every new meeting, and theThracian Althea only served to train his intellect to sharp debates. Butin this manner he so admirably fulfilled her desire to attract attentionthat she more than once pointed out to the Queen, her relative, theremarkably handsome blind man whose acquaintance she had made on a nightof mad revel during the last Dionysia but one. Althea even thoughtit necessary to win him, in whom she saw the future son-in-law of thewealthy Archias, for through the graminateus Proclus the merchant hadbeen persuaded to advance the King's wife hundreds of talents, andArsinoe cherished plans which threatened to consume other large sums.
Thyrone watched Hermon's conduct with increasing indignation, whileDaphne perceived that these women had no more power to estrange herlover from her than the bedizened beauties who were never absent fromthe artists'
festivals. How totally different was his intercoursewith her! His love and respect were hers alone; yet she saw in him asoul-sick man, and persistently rejected Philotas, who wooed her withthe same zeal as before, and the other suitors who were striving to winthe wealthy heiress. She had confessed her feelings to her father, herbest friend, and persuaded him to have patience a little longer, andwait for the change which he himself expected in his nephew.
This had not been difficult, for Archias loved Hermon, in spite of themany anxieties he had caused him, as if he were his own son and, knowinghis daughter, he was aware that she could be happy with the man whopossessed her heart though he was deprived of sight.
The fame which Hermon had won by great genius and ability had gratifiedhim more than he expressed, and he could not contradict Daphne whenshe asserted that, in spite of the aimless life of pleasure to whichhe devoted himself, he had remained the kind-hearted, noble man he hadalways been.
In fact, he used, unasked and secretly, a considerable portion ofhis large revenues to relieve the distress of the poor and suffering.Archias learned this as the steward of his nephew's property, and whento do good he made new demands upon him, he gladly fulfilled them;only he constantly admonished the blind man to think of his own severesufferings and his cure. Daphne did the same, and he willingly obeyedher advice; for, loudly and recklessly as he pursued pleasure in socialcircles, he showed himself tenderly devoted to her when he found heralone in her father's house. Then, as in better days, he opened hisheart to her naturally and modestly and, though he refrained from vowsof love, he showed her that he did not cease to seek with her, and heralone, what his noisy pleasures denied. Then he also found the old toneof affection, and of late he came more frequently, and what he confidedto no one else implied to her, at least by hints.
Satiety and dissatisfaction were beginning to appear, and what he hadattempted to do for the cure of his eyes had hitherto been futile. Theremedies of the oculists to whom he had been directed by Daphne herselfhad proved ineffectual. The great physician Erasistratus, from whom hefirst sought help, had refrained, at her entreaty and her father's, fromrefusing to aid him, but indignantly sent him away when he persisted inthe declaration that it would be impossible for him to remain for monthssecluded from all society and subsist for weeks on scanty fare.
He would submit even to that, he assured Daphne, after she representedto him what he was losing by such lack of resignation, when the timeof rest had come for which he longed, but from which many things stillwithheld him. Yesterday the King had invited him to the palace for thefirst time, and to decline such an honour was impossible.
In fact, he had long wished for this summons, because he had beeninformed that no representative of the sovereign had been present athis reception. Only his wife Arsinoe had honoured him by a wreath andcongratulations. This lack of interest on the part of the King hadwounded him, and the absence of an invitation from the royal connoisseurhad cast a shadow into the midst of many a mirthful hour. He haddoubtless been aware what great and important affairs of state wereclaiming the conscientious sovereign just at this time, and how almostunbearable his restless, unloving spouse was rendering his domesticlife; yet Hermon thought Ptolemy might have spared a short time foran event in the art life of the city, as his Demeter had been calledhundreds of times.
Now the long-desired command to appear before the sovereign had finallyreached him, and, in the secure belief that it would bring freshrecognition and rare honours, he entered the royal palace.
Proclus, who neglected no opportunity of serving the nephew of the richman whose aid he constantly required for the Queen's finances, was hisguide, and described the decoration of the inner apartments of the royalresidence. Their unostentatious simplicity showed the refined taste oftheir royal occupant. There was no lack of marble and other rare kindsof stone, and the numerous bas-reliefs which covered the walls like themost superb tapestry were worthy of special attention. In the oblongapartment through which the blind man was guided these marble picturesrepresented in magnificent work scenes from the campaigns in whichPtolemy, the King's father, had participated as Alexander's general.Others showed Athene, Apollo, the Muses, and Hermes, surrounding orhastening toward the throne of the same monarch, and others again Greekpoets and philosophers. Magnificent coloured mosaic pictures covered thefloor and many flat spaces above door and windows, but gold and silverhad been sparingly used.
Masterpieces of painting and sculpture were the ornaments of the room.In the antechamber, where Hermon waited for the King, Proclus mentionedone of the finest statues of Alexander by Lysippus, and an exquisiteEros by Praxiteles.
The period of waiting, however, became so long to the spoiled artistthat he anticipated the monarch's appearance with painful discomfort,and the result of the few minutes which Ptolemy II devoted to hisreception was far behind the hopes he had fixed upon them.
In former days he had often seen the narrow-shouldered man of barelymedium height who, to secure his own safety, had had two brothers killedand sent another into exile, but now ruled Egypt shrewdly and prudently,and developed the prosperity of Alexandria with equal energy andforesight.
Now, for the first time, Hermon heard him speak. He could not deny thathis voice was unusually pleasant in tone, yet it unmistakably issuedfrom the lips of a sufferer.
The brief questions with which he received the blind artist were kindly,and as natural as though addressing an equal, and every remark madein connection with Hermon's answers revealed a very quick and keenintellect.
He had seen the Demeter, and praised the conception of the goddessbecause it corresponded with her nature. The sanctity which, as it were,pervaded the figure of the divine woman pleased him, because it made thesupplicants in the temple feel that they were in the presence of a beingwho was elevated far above them in superhuman majesty.
"True," he added, "your Demeter is by no means a powerful helper intime of need. She is a goddess such as Epicurus imagines the immortals.Without interfering with human destiny, she stands above it in sublimegrandeur and typical dignity. You belong, if I see correctly, to theEpicureans?"
"No," replied Hermon. "Like my lord and King, I, too, number myselfamong the pupils of the wise Straton."
"Indeed?" asked Ptolemy in a drawling tone, at the same time castinga glance of astonishment at the blind man's powerful figure andwell-formed, intellectual face. Then he went on eagerly: "I shallscarcely be wrong in the inference that you, the creator of theFig-eater, had experienced a far-reaching mental change before yourunfortunate loss of sight?"
"I had to struggle hard," replied Hermon, "but I probably owe thesuccess of the Demeter to the circumstance that I found a model whosemind and nature correspond with those of the goddess to a rare degree."
The monarch shook his fair head, and protested in a tone of positivesuperior knowledge: "As to the model, however well selected it may be,it was not well chosen for this work, far less for you. I have watchedyour battle against beauty in behalf of truth, and rejoiced, though Ioften saw you and your little band of young disciples shoot beyond themark. You brought something new, whose foundation seemed to me sound,and on which further additions might be erected. When the excrescencesfell off, I thought, this Hermon, his shadow Soteles, and the otherswho follow him will perhaps open new paths to the declining art which isconstantly going back to former days. Our time will become the point ofdeparture of a new art. But for that very reason, let me confess it, Iregret to see you fall back from your bold advance. You now claim foryour work that it cleaves strictly to Nature, because the model is takenfrom life itself. It does not become me to doubt this, yet the stampof divinity which your Demeter bears is found in no mortal woman.Understand me correctly! This is certainly no departure from the truth,for the ideal often deserves this lofty name better than anything thevisible world offers to the eye; but hitherto you have done honour toanother truth. If I comprehend your art aright, its essence is opposedto the addition of superhuman dignity and beauty, with wh
ich you, or themodel you used, strove to ennoble and deify your Demeter. Admirablyas you succeeded in doing so, it forces your work out of the sphere ofreality, whose boundary I never before saw you cross by a single inch.Whether this occurred unconsciously to you in an hour of mental ecstasy,or whether you felt that you still lacked the means to represent thedivine, and therefore returned to the older methods, I do not venture todecide. But at the first examination of your work I was conscious ofone thing: It means for you a revolution, a rupture with your formeraspirations; and as--I willingly confess it--you had been marvellouslysuccessful, it would have driven you, had your sight been spared, outof your own course and into the arms of the ancients, perhaps to yourmaterial profit, but scarcely to the advantage of art, which needs arenewal of its vital energies."
"Let me assure you, my lord," Hermon protested, "that had I remainedable to continue to create, the success of the Demeter would never,never have rendered me faithless to the conviction and method ofcreation which I believed right; nay, before losing my sight, my wholesoul was absorbed in a new work which would have permitted me to remainwholly and completely within the bounds of reality."
"The Arachne?" asked the King.
"Yes, my lord," cried Hermon ardently. "With its completion I expectedto render the greatest service, not only to myself, but to the cause oftruth."
Here Ptolemy interrupted with icy coldness: "Yet you were certainlywrong; at least, if the Thracian Althea, who is the personification offalsehood, had continued to be the model." Then he changed his tone, andwith the exclamation: "You are protected from the needs of life, unlessyour rich uncle throws his property into the most insatiable of gulfs.May Straton's philosophy help you better to sustain your courage in thedarkness which surrounds you than it has aided me to bear other trials!"he left the room.
Thus ended the artist's conversation with the King, from which Hermonhad expected such great results and, deeply agitated, he ordered thedriver of his horses to take him to Daphne. She was the only person towhom he could confide what disappointment this interview had caused him.
Others had previously reproached him, as the King had just done, withhaving, in the Demeter, become faithless to his artistic past. How falseand foolish this was! Many a remark from the critics would have beenbetter suited to Myrtilus's work than to his. Yet his fear in Tennis hadnot been true. Only Daphne's sweet face did not suit his more vigorousmethod of emphasizing distinctions.
What a many-hued chameleon was the verdict upon works of plastic art!Once--on his return to the capital--thousands had united in the sameone, and now how widely they differed again!
His earlier works, which were now lauded to the skies, had formerlyinvited censure and vehement attacks.
What would he not have given for the possibility of seeing his admiredwork once more!
As his way led past the Temple of Demeter, he stopped near it and wasguided to the sanctuary.
It was filled with worshippers, and when, in his resolute manner, hetold the curator and the officiating priest that he wished to enterthe cella, and asked for a ladder to feel the goddess, he was mostpositively refused.
What he requested seemed a profanation of the sacred image, and it wouldnot do to disturb the devout throng. His desire to lower the pedestalcould not be gratified.
The high priest who came forward upheld his subordinates and, after ashort dispute, Hermon left the sanctuary with his wish unfulfilled.
Never had he so keenly lamented his lost vision as during the remainderof the drive, and when Daphne received him he described with passionatelamentation how terribly blindness embittered his life, and declaredhimself ready to submit to the severest suffering to regain his sight.
She earnestly entreated him to apply to the great physician Erasistratusagain, and Hermon willingly consented. He had promised to attend abanquet given that day by the wealthy ship-owner Archon. The feastlasted until early morning, but toward noon Hermon again appeared in hisuncle's house, and met Daphne full of joyous confidence, as if he werecompletely transformed.
While at Archon's table he had determined to place his cure in the handsof higher powers. This was the will of Fate; for the guest whose cushionhe shared was Silanus, the host's son, and the first thing he learnedfrom him was the news that he was going the next day, with severalfriends, to the oracle of Amon in the Libyan Desert, to ask it whatshould be done for his mother, who had been for several years an invalidwhom no physician could help. He had heard from many quarters that thecounsel of the god, who had greeted Alexander the Great as his son, wasinfallible.
Then Hermon had been most urgently pressed by the young man to accompanyhim. Every comfort would be provided. One of his father's fine shipswould convey them to Paraetonium, where tents, saddle horses, and guidesfor the short land journey would be ready.
So he had promised to go with Silanus, and his decision was warmlyapproved by his uncle, Daphne, and the gray-haired Pelusinian couple.Perhaps the god would show the blind man the right path to recovery. Hewould always be able to call the skill of the Alexandrian leeches to hisaid.
Soon after Hermon went on board Archon's splendidly equipped vesseland, instead of a tiresome journey, began a new and riotous period offestivity.
Lavish provision had been made for gay companions of both sexes, merryentertainment by means of dancing, music, and song, well filled dishesand mixing vessels, and life during the ride through the coast anddesert regions was not less jovial and luxurious than on the ship.
It seemed to the blind man like one vast banquet in the dark,interrupted only by sleep.
The hope of counsel from the gods cheered the depressed mood which hadweighed upon him for several weeks, and rich young Silanus praised thelucky fate which had enabled him to find a travelling companion whoseintellect and wit charmed him and the others, and often detained themover the wine until late into the night.
Here, too, Hermon felt himself the most distinguished person, theanimating and attracting power, until it was said that the voyage wasover, and the company pitched their tents in the famous oasis near theTemple of Amon.
The musicians and dancers, with due regard to propriety, had been leftbehind in the seaport of Paraetonium. Yet the young travellers weresufficiently gay while Silanus and Hermon waited for admission to theplace of the oracle. A week after their arrival it was opened to them,yet the words repeated to them by the priest satisfied neither Hermonnor Archon's son, for the oracle advised the latter to bring his motherherself to the oasis by the land road if she earnestly desired recovery,while to Hermon was shouted the ambiguous saying:
"Only night and darkness spring from the rank marsh of pleasure; Morning and day rise brightly from the starving sand."
Could Silanus's mother, who was unable to move, endure the desertjourney? And what was the meaning of the sand, from which morning andday--which was probably the fresh enjoyment of the light--were to risefor Hermon? The sentence of the oracle weighed heavily upon him, aswell as on Archon's son, who loved his mother, and the homeward journeybecame to the blind man by no means a cheerful but rather a verytroubled dream.
Thoughtful, very disturbed, dissatisfied with himself, and resolved toturn his back upon the dreary life of pleasure which for so long a timehad allowed him no rest, and now disgusted him, he kept aloof from histravelling companions, and rejoiced when, at Alexandria, he was ledashore in the harbour of Eunostus.