CHAPTER V.
In the extreme northern portion of the little city of Tennis a large,perfectly plain whitewashed building stood on an open, grass-grownsquare.
The side facing the north rested upon a solid substructure of hardblocks of hewn stone washed by the waves.
This protecting wall extended along both sides of the long, plainedifice, and prevented the water from overflowing the open space whichbelonged to it.
Archias, the owner of the largest weaving establishment in Tennis, thefather of the Alexandrian aristocrat who had arrived the evening before,was the owner of the house, as well as of the broad plain on whichhe had had it built, with the indestructible sea wall, to serve as astorehouse to receive the supplies of linen, flax, and wool which weremanufactured in his factories.
It was favourably situated for this purpose, for the raw materials couldbe moved from the ships which brought them to Tennis directly into thebuilding. But as the factories were at a considerable distance, thetransportation required much time and expense, and therefore Archias hadhad a canal dug connecting the workshops with the water, and at its enderected a new storehouse, which rendered a second transportation of theships' cargoes unnecessary.
The white mansion had not yet been devoted to any other purpose when theowner determined to offer the spacious empty rooms of the ware house tohis nephews, the sculptors Hermon and Myrtilus, for the productionof two works with whose completion he associated expectations of goodfortune both for the young artists, who were his nephews and wards, andhimself.
The very extensive building which now contained the studios and spaciousliving apartments for the sculptors and their slaves would also haveafforded ample room for his daughter and her attendants, but Daphnehad learned from the reports of the artists that rats, mice, and otherdisagreeable vermin shared the former storehouse with them, so she hadpreferred to have tents pitched in the large open space which belongedit.
True, the broad field was exposed to the burning sun, and its soil wascovered only with sand and pitiably scorched turf, but three palm trees,a few sunt acacias, two carob trees, a small clump of fig trees, and thesuperb, wide-branched sycamore on the extreme outer edge had won for itthe proud name of a "garden."
Now a great change in its favour had taken place, for Daphne's beautifultent, with walls and top of blue and white striped sail-cloth, and thesmall adjoining tents of the same colours, gave it a brighter aspect.
The very roomy main tent contained the splendidly furnished sitting anddining rooms. The beds occupied by Daphne and her companion, Chrysilla,had been placed in an adjoining one, which was nearly as large, and thecook, with his assistants, was quartered in a third.
The head keeper, the master of the hounds, and most of the slavesremained in the transports which had followed the state galley. Somehad slept under the open sky beside the dog kennel hastily erected forDaphne's pack of hounds.
So, on the morning after the wholly unexpected arrival of the owner'sdaughter, the "garden" in front of the white house, but yesterday adesolate field, resembled an encampment, whose busy life was varied andnoisy enough.
Slaves and freedmen had been astir before sunrise, for Daphne was upbetimes in order to begin the hunt in the early hour when the birds lefttheir secret nooks on the islands.
Her cousins, the young sculptors, to please her, had gone out, too, butthe sport did not last long; for when the market place of Tennis, justbetween the morning and noontide hours, was most crowded, the littleboats which the hunters had used again touched the shore.
With them and Daphne's servants seafaring men also left theboats--Biamite fishermen and boatmen, who knew the breeding places andnests of the feathered prey--and before them, barking loudly and shakingtheir dripping bodies, the young huntress's brown and white spotted dogsran toward the tents.
Dark-skinned slaves carried the game, which had been tied in buncheswhile in the boats, to the white house, where they laid three rows oflarge water fowl, upon the steps leading to the entrance.
Daphne's arrows were supposed to have killed all these, but the masterof the hunt had taken care to place among his mistress's booty some ofthe largest pelicans and vultures which had been shot by the others.
Before retiring to her tent, she inspected the result of the shootingexpedition and was satisfied.
She had been told of the numbers of birds in this archipelago, butthe quantity of game which had been killed far exceeded her greatestexpectations, and her pleasant blue eyes sparkled with joy as she beganto examine the birds which had been slaughtered in so short a time.
Yet, ere she had finished the task, a slight shadow flitted over herwell-formed and attractive though not beautiful features.
The odour emanating from so many dead fowls, on which the sun, alreadyhigh in the heavens, was shining, became disagreeable to her, and astrong sense of discomfort, whose cause, however, she did not seek, madeher turn from them.
The movement with which she did so was full of quiet, stately grace, andthe admiring glance with which Hermon, a tall, black-bearded young man,watched it, showed that he knew how to value the exquisite symmetry ofher figure.
The somewhat full outlines of her form and the self-possession of herbearing would have led every one to think her a young matron rather thana girl; but the two artists who accompanied her on the shooting partyhad been intimate with her from childhood, and knew how much modesty andgenuine kindness of heart were united with the resolute nature of thismaiden, who numbered two and twenty years.
Fair-haired Myrtilus seemed to pay little heed to the game which Gras,Archias's Bithynian house steward, was counting, but black-beardedHermon had given it more attention, and when Daphne drew back he noddedapprovingly, and pointing to the heap of motionless inhabitants of theair, exclaimed with sincere regret: "Fie upon us human wretches! Wouldthe most bloodthirsty hyena destroy such a number of living creatures ina few hours? Other beasts of prey do not kill even one wretchedsparrow more than they need to appease their hunger. But we and you,tender-hearted priestess of a gracious goddess--leading us friends ofthe Muse--we pursue a different course! What a mound of corpses! Andwhat will become of it? Perhaps a few geese and ducks will go into thekitchen; but the rest--the red flamingoes and the brave pelicans whofeed their young with their own blood? They are only fit to throw away,for the Biamites eat no game that is shot, and your black slaves, too,would refuse to taste it. So we destroy hundreds of lives for pastime.Base word! As if we had so many superfluous hours at our disposal ere wedescend into Hades. A philosopher among brutes would be entitled to cryout, 'Shame upon you, raging monster!'"
"Shame on you, you perpetual grumbler," interrupted Daphne in anoffended tone. "Who would ever have thought it cruel to test the steadyhand and the keen eye upon senseless animals in the joyous chase? Butwhat shall we call the fault-finder, who spoils his friend's innocentenjoyment of a happy morning by his sharp reproaches?"
Hermon shrugged his shoulders, and, in a voice which expressed farmore compassion than resentment, answered: "If this pile of dead birdspleases you, go on with the slaughter. You can sometimes save the arrowsand catch the swarming game with your hands. If your lifeless victimsyonder were human beings, after all, they would have cause to thank you;for what is existence?"
"To these creatures, everything," said Myrtilus, the Alexandrian'sother cousin, beckoning to Daphne, who had summoned him to her aid bya beseeching glance, to draw nearer. "Gladly as I would always andeverywhere uphold your cause, I can not do so this time. Only look here!Your arrow merely broke the wing of yonder sea eagle, and he is justrecovering from the shock. What a magnificent fellow! How wrathfully andvengefully his eyes sparkle! How fiercely he stretches his brave headtoward us in helpless fury, and--step back!--how vigorously, spite ofthe pain of his poor, wounded, drooping pinion, he flaps the other, andraises his yellow claws to punish his foes! His plumage glistens andshines exquisitely where it lies smooth, and how savagely he puffsout the feathers on his neck! A wonderful
spectacle! The embodimentof powerful life! And the others by his side. We transformed the poorcreatures into a motionless, miserable mass, and just now they werecleaving the air with their strong wings, proclaiming by proud, gladcries to their families among the reeds their approach with an abundantstore of prey. Every one was a feast to the eyes before our arrowsstruck it, and now? When Hermon, with his pitying heart, condemns thiskind of hunting, he is right. It deprives free, harmless creatures oftheir best possession--life--and us thereby of a pleasant sight. Ingeneral, a bird's existence seems to me also of little value, butbeauty, to me as to you, transcends everything else. What wouldexistence be without it? and wherever it appears, to injure it isinfamous."
Here a slight cough interrupted the young artist, and the moist glitterof his blue eyes also betrayed that he was suffering from an attack ofsevere pain in his lungs; but Daphne nodded assent to him, and to Hermonalso, and commanded the steward Gras to take the birds out of her sight.
"But," said the Bithynian, "our mistress will doubtless allow us atleast to take the hard lower part of the pelicans' beaks, and the wingfeathers of the flamingoes and birds of prey, to show our master on ourreturn as trophies."
"Trophies?" repeated the girl scornfully. "Hermon, you are better thanI and the rest of us, and I see that you are right. Where game fliestoward us in such quantities, hunting becomes almost murder. Andsuccesses won by so slight an exertion offer little charm. The secondexpedition before sunset, Gras, shall be given up. The master of thehounds, with his men and the dogs, will return home on the transportsthis very day. I am disgusted with sport here. Birds of prey, and thoseonly when brought down from the air, would probably be the right game inthis place."
"Those are the very ones to which I would grant life," said Hermon,smiling, "because they enjoy it most."
"Then we will at least save the sea eagle," cried Daphne, and orderedthe steward, who was already having the dead fowl carried off, to carefor the wounded bird of prey; but when the latter struck furiously withhis beak at the Biamite who attempted to remove it, Hermon again turnedto the girl, saying: "I thank you in the eagle's name for your goodwill, you best of women; but I fear even the most careful nursing willnot help this wounded creature, for the higher one seeks to soar, themore surely he goes to destruction if his power of flight is broken.Mine, too, was seriously injured."
"Here?" asked Daphne anxiously. "At this time, which is of such greatimportance to you and your art?"
Then she interrupted herself to ask Myrtilus's opinion, but as he hadgone away coughing, she continued, in a softer tone: "How anxious youcan make one, Hermon! Has anything really happened which clouds yourpleasure in creating, and your hope of success?"
"Let us wait," he answered, hastily throwing back his head, with itsthick, waving raven locks. "If, in leaping over the ditch, I should fallinto the marsh, I must endure it, if thereby I can only reach the shorewhere my roses bloom!"
"Then you fear that you have failed in the Demeter?" asked Daphne.
"Failed?" repeated the other. "That seems too strong. Only the work isnot proving as good as I originally expected. For the head we both useda model--you will see--whose fitness could not be surpassed. But thebody! Myrtilus knows how earnestly I laboured, and, without looking tothe right or the left, devoted all my powers to the task of creation.True, the models did not remain. But even had a magic spell doubled myability, the toil would still have been futile. The error is there; yetI am repairing it. To be sure, many things must aid me in doing so, forwhich I now hope; who knows whether it will not again be in vain? Youare acquainted with my past life. It has never yet granted me any great,complete success, and if I was occasionally permitted to pluck a flower,my hands were pricked by thorns and nettles!"
He pursed up his lips as if to hiss the unfriendly fate, and Daphne feltthat he, whose career she had watched from childhood with the interestof affection, and to whom, though she did not confess it even toherself, she had clung for years with far more than sisterly love,needed a kind word.
Her heart ached, and it was difficult for her to assume the cheerfultone which she desired to use; but she succeeded, and her voice soundedgay and careless enough as she exclaimed to the by no means happy artistand Myrtilus, who was just returning: "Give up your foolish opposition,you obstinate men, and let me see what you have accomplished during thislong time. You promised my father that you would show your work to noone before him, but believe my words, if he were here he would giveyou back the pledge and lead me himself to the last production of yourstudy. Compassion would compel you disobliging fellows to yield, if youcould only imagine how curiosity tortures us women. We can conquer itwhere more indifferent matters are concerned. But here!--it need notmake you vainer than you already are, but except my father, you aredearest in all the world to me. And then, only listen! In my characteras priestess of Demeter I hereby release you from your vow, and thusfrom any evil consequences of your, moreover, very trivial guilt; for afather and daughter who live together, as I do with your uncle, arejust the same as one person. So come! Wearied as I am by the miserablehunting excursion which caused me such vexation, in the presence of yourworks--rely upon it--I shall instantly be gay again, and all my lifewill thank you for your noble indulgence."
While speaking, she walked toward the white house, beckoning to theyoung men with a winning, encouraging smile.
It seemed to produce the effect intended, for the artists looked ateach other irresolutely, and Hermon was already asking himself whetherDaphne's arguments had convinced Myrtilus also, when the latter, ingreat excitement, called after her: "How gladly we would do it, but wemust not fulfil your wish, for it was no light promise--no, your fatherexacted an oath. He alone can absolve us from the obligation of showinghim, before any one else, what we finish here. It is not to be submittedto the judges until after he has seen it."
"Listen to me!" Daphne interrupted with urgent warmth, and began toassail the artists with fresh entreaties.
For the second time black-bearded Hermon seemed inclined to give up hisresistance, but Myrtilus cried in zealous refusal: "For Hermon's sake,I insist upon my denial. The judges must not talk about the work untilboth tasks are completed, for then each of us will be as good as certainof a prize. I myself believe that the one for Demeter will fall to me."
"But Hermon will succeed better with the Arachne?" asked Daphne eagerly.
Myrtilus warmly assented, but Hermon exclaimed: "If I could only relyupon the good will of the judges!"
"Why not?" the girl interrupted. "My father is just, the king is anincorruptible connoisseur, and certainly yesterday evening you, too,believed the others to be honest men; as for your fellow-candidateMyrtilus, he will no more grudge a prize to you than to himself."
"Why should he?" asked Hermon, as if he, too, was perfectly sure of hisfriend. "We have shared many a bit of bread together. When we determinedupon this competition each knew the other's ability. Your fathercommissioned us to create peaceful Demeter, the patroness ofagriculture, peace, marriage, and Arachne, the mortal who was the mostskilful of spinners; for he is both a grain dealer and owner of spinningfactories. The best Demeter is to be placed in the Alexandrian temple ofthe goddess, to whose priestesses you belong; the less successful onein your own house in the city, but whose Demeter is destined for thesanctuary, I repeat, is now virtually decided. Myrtilus will add thisprize to the others, and grant me with all his heart the one for theArachne. The subject, at any rate, is better adapted to my art than tohis, and so I should be tolerably certain of my cause. Yet my anxietyabout the verdict of the judges remains, for surely you know how muchthe majority are opposed to my tendency. I, and the few Alexandrianswho, following me, sacrifice beauty to truth, swim against the streamwhich bears you, Myrtilus, and those who are on your side, smoothlyalong. I know that you do it from thorough conviction, but withother acknowledged great artists and our judges, you, too, demandbeauty--always beauty. Am I right, or wrong? Is not any one who refusesto follow in the f
ootsteps left by the ancients of Athens as certain ofcondemnation as the convicted thief or murderer? But I will not followthe lead of the Athenians, inimitably great though they are in theirown way, because I would fain be more than the ancients of Ilissus: adisciple and an Alexandrian."
"The never-ending dispute," Myrtilus answered his fellow-artist, with acordiality in which, nevertheless, there was a slight accent of pity.
"Surely you know it, Daphne. To me the ideal and its embodimentwithin the limits of the natural, according to the models of Phidias,Polycletus, and Myron is the highest goal, but he and his co-workersseek objects nearer at hand."
"Or rather we found them," cried Hermon, interrupting his companionwith angry positiveness. "The city of Alexandria, which is growing withunprecedented vigour, is their home. There, the place to which everyrace on earth sends a representative, the pulse of the whole world isthrobbing. There, whoever does not run with the rest is run over; there,but one thing is important--actual life. Science has undertaken tofathom it, and the results which it gains with measures and numbers isof a different value and more lasting than that which the idle sport ofthe intellects of the older philosophers obtained. But art, her noblersister, must pursue the same paths. To copy life as it is, to reproducethe real as it presents itself, not as it might or must be, is the taskwhich I set myself. If you would have me carve gods, whom man can notrepresent to himself except in his own form, allow me also to representthem as reality shows me mortals. I will form them after the models ofthe greatest, highest, and best, and also, when the subject permits, inpowerful action in accordance with my own power, but always as real menfrom head to foot. We must also cling to the old symbols which thosewho order demand, because they serve as signs of recognition, and myDemeter, too, received the bundle of wheat."
As the excited artist uttered this challenge a defiant glance restedupon his comrade and Daphne. But Myrtilus, with a soothing gesture ofthe hand, answered: "What is the cause of this heat? I at least watchyour work with interest, and do not dispute your art so long as it doesnot cross the boundaries of the beautiful, which to me are those ofart."
Here the conversation was interrupted; the steward Gras brought a letterwhich a courier from Pelusium had just delivered.
Thyone, the wife of Philippus, the commander of the strong borderfortress of Pelusium, near Tennis, had written it. She and her husbandhad been intimate friends of Hermon's father, who had served under theold general as hipparch, and through him had become well acquainted withhis wealthy brother Archias and his relatives.
The Alexandrian merchant had informed Philippus--whom, like all theworld, he held in the highest honour as one of the former companionsof Alexander the Great--of his daughter's journey, and his wife nowannounced her visit to Daphne. She expected to reach Tennis that eveningwith her husband and several friends, and mentioned especially heranticipation of meeting Hermon, the son of her beloved Erigone and herhusband's brave companion in arms.
Daphne and Myrtilus received the announcement with pleasure; butHermon, who only the day before had spoken of the old couple with greataffection, seemed disturbed by the arrival of the unexpected guests. Toavoid them entirely appeared impossible even to him, but he declaredin an embarrassed tone, and without giving any reason, that he shouldscarcely be able to devote the entire evening to Daphne and thePelusinians.
Then he turned quickly toward the house, to which a signal from hisslave Bias summoned him.