CHAPTER VII.
Hermon entered his house with drooping head.
Here he was informed that the grammateus of the Dionysian artists hadalready called twice to speak to him concerning an important matter.When he came from the bath, Proclus visited him again. His errand wasto invite him to a banquet which was to take place that evening at hisresidence in a wing of the royal palace.
But Hermon was not in the mood to share a joyous revel, and he franklysaid so, although immediately after his return he had accepted theinvitation to the festival which the whole fellowship of artists wouldgive the following day in honour of the seventieth birthday of the oldsculptor Euphranor. The grammateus alluded to this, and most positivelyinsisted that he could not release him; for he came not only by his ownwish, but in obedience to the command of Queen Arsinoe, who desired totell the creator of the Demeter how highly she esteemed his work and hisart. She would appear herself at dessert, and the banquet must thereforebegin at an unusually early hour. He, Proclus, was to have the highhonour of including the royal lady among his guests solely on Hermon'saccount, and his refusal would be an insult to the Queen.
So the artist found himself obliged to relinquish his opposition. He didthis reluctantly; but the Queen's attention to him and his art flatteredhis vanity and, if he was to abandon the intoxicating and barren lifeof pleasure, it could scarcely be done more worthily than at a festivalwhere the King's consort intended to distinguish him in person.
The banquet was to begin in a few hours, yet he could not let the daypass without seeing Daphne and telling her the words of the oracle. Helonged, with ardent yearning, for the sound of her voice, and still moreto unburden his sorely troubled soul to her.
Oh, if only his Myrtilus still walked among the living! How totallydifferent, in spite of his lost vision, would his life have been!
Daphne was now the only one whom he could put in his place.
Since his return from the oracle, the fear that the rescued Demetermight yet be the work of Myrtilus had again mastered him. However loudlyoutward circumstances might oppose this, he now felt, with a certaintywhich surprised him, that this work was not his own. The approval, aswell as the doubts, which it aroused in others strengthened his opinion,although even now he could not succeed in bringing it into harmony withthe facts. How deep had been the intoxication in which he had so longreeled from one day to the next, since it had succeeded in keeping everydoubt of the authorship of this work far from him!
Now he must obtain certainty, and Daphne could help him to it; for, asa priestess of Demeter, she possessed the right to procure him accessto the cella and get permission for him to climb the lofty pedestal andfeel the statue with his fingers, whose sense of touch had become muchkeener.
He would frankly inform her of his fear, and her truthful nature wouldfind the doubt that gnawed his heart as unendurable as he himself.
It would have been a grave crime to woo her before he was relieved ofthis uncertainty, and he would utter the decisive words that very day,and ask her whether her love was great enough to share the joys andsorrows of life with him, the blind man, who perhaps must also divesthimself of a false fame.
Time pressed.
He called at Archias's house with a wreath on his head and in festalrobes; but Daphne was in the temple, whither old Philippus and Thyonehad gone, and his uncle was attending a late session of the Council.
He would have liked to follow Daphne to the sanctuary, but the latehour forbade it, and he therefore only charged Gras to tell his youngmistress that he was going to Proclus's banquet, and would return earlythe next morning to discuss a most important subject with her.
Then he went directly to the neighbouring palace. The Queen might haveappeared already, and it would not do to keep her waiting.
He was aware that she lived at variance with her husband, but howcould he have suspected that she cherished the more than bold designof hurling the sovereign from his throne and seizing the Egyptian crownherself.
Proclus and Althea were among the conspirators who supported Arsinoe,and the Queen thought it would be an easy matter to win over to hercause and herself the handsome sculptor, whom she remembered at the lastDionysia.
The wealthy blind artist, so highly esteemed among the members of hisprofession, might become valuable to the conspiracy, for she knew whatenthusiastic devotion the Alexandrian artists felt for the King, andeverything depended upon forming a party in her own favour among them.This task was to fall to Hermon, and also another, still more importantone; for he, his nephew and future son-in-law, if any one, couldpersuade the wealthy Archias to lend the plot his valuable aid. Hithertothe merchant had been induced, it is true, to advance large sums ofmoney to the Queen, but the loyal devotion which he showed to herroyal husband had rendered it impossible to give him even a hint of theconspiracy. Althea, however, declared that the blind man's marriage toDaphne was only a question of time, and Proclus added that the easilyexcited nephew would show himself more pliant than the uncle if Arsinoeexerted upon him the irresistible charm of her personality.
When Hermon entered the residence of the grammateus in the palace, theguests had already assembled. The Queen was not to appear until afterthe feast, when the mixing jars were filled. The place by Hermon's side,which Althea had chosen for herself, would then be given up to Arsinoe.
The sovereign was as unaccustomed to the society of a blind artistas Hermon was to that of a queen, and both eagerly anticipated theapproaching meeting.
Yet it was difficult for Hermon to turn a bright face toward hiscompanion. The sources of anxiety and grief which had previouslyburdened his mind would not vanish, even under the roof of the royalpalace.
Althea's presence reminded him of Tennis, Ledscha, and Nemesis, who forso long a time seemed to have suspended her persecution, but since hehad returned from the abode of the oracle was again asserting the oldright to him. During many a sleepless hour of the night he had once moreheard the rolling of her terrible wheel.
Even before the journey to the oasis of Amon, everything life couldoffer him, the idle rake, in his perpetual darkness, had seemed shallowand scarcely worth stretching out his hand for it.
True, an interesting conversation still had power to charm him, butoften during its continuance the full consciousness of his misfortuneforced itself upon his mind; for the majority of the subjects discussedby the artists came to them through the medium of sight, and referredto new creations of architecture, sculpture, and painting, from whoseenjoyment his blindness debarred him.
When returning home from a banquet, if his way lay through the city,he was reminded of the superb buildings, marble terraces and fountains,statues and porticoes, which had formerly satiated his eyes withdelight, and must now be illumined with a brilliant radiance by themorning sunbeams, though a hostile fate shut them out from his eyes,starving and thirsting for beautiful forms.
But it had seemed to him still harder to bear that his blinded eyesrefused to show him the most beautiful of all beautiful things, thehuman form, when he lingered among the Ephebi or the spectators ofa festal procession, or visited the gymnasium, the theatre, theAphrodisium, or the Paneum gardens, where the beautiful women met atsunset.
The Queen was to appear immediately, and when she took her place nearhim his blindness would again deprive him of the sight of her delicatelycut features, prevent his returning the glances from her sparkling eyes,and admiring the noble outlines of her thinly veiled figure.
Would his troubled spirit at least permit him to enjoy and enter withoutrestraint into the play of her quick wit?
Perhaps her arrival would relieve him from the discomfort whichoppressed him here.
A stranger, out of his own sphere, he felt chilled among these closelyunited men and women, to whom no tie bound him save the presence of thesame host.
He was not acquainted with a single individual except the mythographCrates, who for several months had been one of the members of theMuseum, and who had attached himself
to Hermon at Straton's lectures.
The artist was surprised to find this man in such a circle, but helearned from Althea that the young member of the Museum was a relativeof Proclus, and a suitor of the beautiful Nico, one of the Queen'sladies in waiting, who was among the guests.
Crates had really been invited in order to win him over to the Queen'scause; but charming fair-haired Nico had been commissioned by theconspirators to persuade him to sing Arsinoe's praises among hisprofessional associates.
The rest of the men present stood in close connection with Arsinoe,and were fellow-conspirators against her husband's throne and life.The ladies whom Proclus had invited were all confidants of Arsinoe, thewives and daughters of his other guests. All were members of the highestclass of society, and their manners showed the entire freedom fromrestraint that existed in the Queen's immediate circle. Althea profitedby the advantage of being Hermon's only acquaintance here. So, when hetook his place on the cushion at her side, she greeted him familiarlyand cordially, as she had treated him for a long time, wherever theymet, and in a low voice told him, sometimes in a kindly tone, sometimeswith biting sarcasm, the names and characters of the other guests.
The most aristocratic was Amyntas, who stood highest of all in theQueen's favour because he had good reason to hate the other Arsinoe, thesister of the King. His son had been this royal dame's first husband,and she had deserted him to marry Lysimachus, the aged King of Thrace.
The Rhodian Chrysippus, her leech and trusted counsellor, also possessedgreat influence over the Queen.
"The noble lady," whispered Althea, "needs the faithful devotion ofevery well-disposed subject, for perhaps you have already learned howcruelly the King embitters the life of the mother of his three children.Many a caprice can be forgiven the suffering Ptolemy, who recentlyexpressed a wish that he could change places with the common workmenwhom he saw eating their meal with a good appetite, and who is nowtortured by the gout; yet he watches the hapless woman with the jealousyof a tiger, though he himself is openly faithless to her. What is theQueen to him, since the widow of Lysimachus returned from Thrace--no,from Cassandrea, Ephesus, and sacred Samothrace, or whatever otherplaces there are which would no longer tolerate the murderess?"
"The King's sister--the object of his love?" cried Hermon incredulously."She must be forty years old now."
"Very true," Althea assented. "But we are in Egypt, where marriagesbetween brothers and sisters are pleasing to gods and men; and besides,we make our own moral laws here. Her age! We women are only as old as welook, and the leeches and tiring women of this beauty of forty practisearts which give her the appearance of twenty-five, yet perhaps the Kingvalues her intellect more than her person, and the wisdom of a hundredserpents is certainly united in this woman's head. She will make ourpoor Queen suffer unless real friends guard her from the worst. Thethree most trustworthy ones are here: Amyntas, the leech Chrysippus, andthe admirable Proclus. Let us hope that you will make this three-leavedclover the luck-promising four-leaved one. Your uncle, too, has oftenwith praiseworthy generosity helped Arsinoe in many an embarrassment.Only make the acquaintance of this beautiful royal lady, and thelast drop of your blood will not seem too precious to shed for her!Besides--Proclus told me so in confidence--you have little favour toexpect from the King. How long he kept you waiting for the first wordconcerning a work which justly transported the whole city with delight!When he did finally summon you, he said things which must have woundedyou."
"That is going too far," replied Hermon.
"Then he kept back his real opinion," Althea protested. "Had I not madeit a rule to maintain absolute silence concerning everything I hear inconversation from those with whom I am closely associated--"
Here she was interrupted by Chrysippus, who asked if Althea had told herneighbour about his Rhodian eye-salve.
He winked at her and made a significant gesture as he spoke, and theninformed the blind artist how graciously Arsinoe had remembered him whenshe heard of the remedy by whose aid many a wonderful cure of blind eyeshad been made in Rhodes. The royal lady had inquired about him and hissufferings with almost sisterly interest, and Althea eagerly confirmedthe statement.
Hermon listened to the pair in silence.
He had not been able to see them, it is true, yet he had perceivedtheir design as if the loss of sight had sharpened his mental vision.He imagined that he could see the favourite and Althea nudge each otherwith sneering gestures, and believed that their sole purpose was torender him--he knew not for what object--the obedient tool of the Queen,who had probably also succeeded in persuading his usually cautious uncleto render her great services.
The remembrance of Arsinoe's undignified conduct at the Dionysia, andthe shameful stories of her which he had heard returned to his mind. Atthe same time he saw Daphne rise before him in her aristocratic dignityand kindly goodness, and a smile of satisfaction hovered around his lipsas he said to himself: "The spider Althea again! But, in spite of myblindness, I will be caught neither in her net nor in the Queen's. Theyare the last to bar the way which leads to Daphne and real happiness."
The Rhodian was just beginning to praise Arsinoe also as a specialfriend and connoisseur of the sculptor's art when Crates, Hermon'sfellow-student, asked the blind artist, in behalf of his beautifulcompanion, why his Demeter was placed upon a pedestal which, to othersas well as himself, seemed too high for the size of the statue.
Hermon replied that he had heard several make this criticism, but thepriests of the goddess refused to take it into account.
Here he hesitated, for, like a blow from an invisible hand, the thoughtdarted through his mind that perhaps, on the morrow, he would seehimself compelled before the whole world to cast aside the crown of famewhich he owed to the statue on the lofty pedestal. He did not have eventhe remotest idea of continuing to deck himself with false renown ifhis dread was realized; yet he doubtless imagined how this wholearistocratic circle, with the Queen, Althea, and Proclus at its head,would turn with reckless haste from the hapless man who had led theminto such a shameful error.
Yet what mattered it, even if these miserable people consideredthemselves deceived and pointed the finger of scorn at him? Betterpeople would thereby be robbed of the right to accuse him offaithlessness to himself. This thought darted through his heated brainlike a flash of lightning, and when, in spite of his silence, theconversation was continued and Althea told the others that only Hermon'sblindness had prevented the creation of a work which could have beenconfidently expected far to surpass the Demeter, since it seemed to havebeen exactly suited to his special talent, he answered his beautifulcompanion's remark curtly and absently.
She perceived this with annoyance and perplexity.
A woman who yearns for the regard of all men, and makes love a toy,easily lessens the demands she imposes upon individuals. Only, eventhough love has wholly disappeared, she still claims consideration, andAlthea did not wish to lose Hermon's regard.
When Amyntas, the head of the conspirators, attracted the attention ofthe company by malicious remarks about the King's sister, the Thracianlaid her hand on the blind artist's arm, whispering: "Has the image ofthe Arachne which, at Tennis, charmed you even in the presence of theangry Zeus, completely vanished from your memory? How indifferent youlook! But I tell you"--her deep blue eyes flashed as she spoke--"that solong as you were still a genuine creating artist the case was different.Even while putting the last touches of the file to the Demeter, forwhich Archias's devout daughter posed as your model, another whom youcould not banish from your mind filled your imagination. Though so louda denial is written on your face, I persist in my conviction, and thatno idle delusion ensnares me I can prove!"
Hermon raised his sightless eyes to her inquiringly, but she went onwith eager positiveness: "Or, if you did not think of the weaver whilecarving the goddess, how did you happen to engrave a spider on theribbon twined around the ears of grain in Demeter's hand? Not thesmallest detail of a work produced by the hand of
a valued friendescapes my notice, and I perceived it before the Demeter came to thetemple and the lofty pedestal. Now I would scarcely be able to discoverit in the dusky cella, yet at that time I took pleasure in the sight ofthe ugly insect, not only because it is cleverly done, but because itreminded me of something"--here she lowered her voice still more--"thatpleased me, though probably it would seem less flattering to thedaughter of Archias, who perhaps is better suited to act as guide to theblind. How bewildered you look! Eternal gods! Many things are forgottenafter long months have passed, but it will be easy for me to sharpenyour memory. 'At the time Hermon had just finished the Demeter,' thespider called to me, 'he scratched me on the gold.' But at that verytime--yes, my handsome friend, I can reckon accurately--you had met me,Althea, in Tennis, I had brought the spider-woman before your eyes. Wasit really nothing but foolish vanity that led me to the convictionthat you were thinking of me also when you engraved on the ribbon thedespised spider-for which, however, I always felt a certain regard--withthe delicate web beneath its slender legs?"
Hitherto Hermon had listened to every word in silence, labouring forbreath. He was transported as if by magic to the hour of his return fromPelusium; he saw himself enter Myrtilus's studio and watch his friendscratch something, he did not know what, upon the ribbon which fastenedthe bunch of golden grain. It was--nay, it could have been nothingelse--that very spider. The honoured work was not his, but his deadfriend's. How the exchange had occurred he could not now understand,but to disbelieve that it had taken place would have been madness orself-deception.
Now he also understood the doubts of Soteles and the King. Nothe--Myrtilus, and he alone, was the creator of the much-lauded Demeter!
This conviction raised a hundred-pound weight from his soul.
What was applause! What was recognition! What were fame and laurelwreaths! He desired clearness and truth for himself and all the worldand, as if frantic, he suddenly sprang from his cushions, shouting tothe startled guests: "I myself and this whole great city were deceived!The Demeter is not mine, not the work of Hermon! The dead Myrtiluscreated it!"
Then pressing his hand to his brow, he called his student friend tohis side, and, as the scholar anxiously laid his arm on his shoulder,whispered: "Away, away from here! Only let me get out of doors into theopen air!"
Crates, bewildered and prepared for the worst, obeyed his wish; butAlthea and the other guests left behind felt more and more impressed bythe suddenly awakened conviction that the hapless blind man had now alsobecome the victim of madness.