Arachne — Complete

  CHAPTER IX.

  Hermon had intended to add a few more touches to his Demeter, but hecould not do it. Ledscha, her demand, and the resentment with which shehad left him, were not to be driven from his mind.

  There was no doubt that he must seek her if he was not to lose her, yethe reproached himself for having acted like a thoughtless fool when heproposed to divide the night between her and Daphne.

  There was something offensive in the proposal to so proud a creature.He ought to have promised positively to come, and then left the banquetsomewhat earlier. It would have been easy to apologize for his latearrival, and Ledscha would have had no cause to be angry with him.

  Now she had, and her resentment awakened in him--though he certainlydid not lack manly courage--an uncomfortable feeling closely allied toanxiety.

  Angered by his own conduct, he asked himself whether he loved thebarbarian, and could find no satisfactory answer.

  At their first meeting he had felt that she was far superior to theother Biamite maidens, not only in beauty but in everything else. Thevery acerbity of her nature had seemed charming. To win this wonderful,pliant creature, slender as a cypress, whose independence merged intofierce obstinacy, had appeared to him worth any sacrifice; and havingperceived in her an admirable model for his Arachne, he had alsodetermined to brave the dangers which might easily arise for the Greekfrom a love affair with a Biamite girl, whose family was free anddistinguished.

  It had been easier for him to win her heart than he expected; yet atnone of the meetings which she granted him had he rejoiced in the secretbond between them.

  Hitherto her austere reserve had been invincible, and during thegreater part of their interviews he had been compelled to exert all hisinfluence to soothe, appease her, and atone for imprudent acts which hehad committed.

  True, she, too, had often allowed herself to display passionatetenderness, but always only to torture him with reproaches and demandsinspired by her jealousy, suspicion, and wounded pride.

  Yet her beauty, and the strong power of resistance which she offered tohis wooing, exerted so bewitching a thrall over him that he had been ledinto conceding far too much, and making vows which he could not and didnot desire to fulfil.

  Love had usually been to him a richly flowing well-spring of gaydelight, but this bond had plunged him from one vexation into another,one anxiety to another, and now that he had almost reached the goal ofhis wishes, he could not help fearing that he had transformed Ledscha'slove to hate.

  Daphne was dear to him. He esteemed her highly, and owed her a greatdebt of gratitude. Yet in this hour he anathematized her unexpectedjourney to Tennis; for without it he would have obtained from Ledschathat very day what he desired, and could have returned to Alexandriawith the certainty of finding her ready later to pose as the model forhis Arachne.

  Never could he find anywhere a more fitting one.

  He had devoted himself with passionate love to his art, and even hisenemies numbered him among its most promising disciples. Yet hither tohe had not succeeded in obtaining a great and undisputed success. Onthe other hand, he had experienced what were termed failures in abundantmeasure.

  The art to which he had gained entrance by so severe a struggle, and onwhose soil he had laboured diligently enough, proved, so far as outwardrecognition was concerned, cruel to the enthusiastic disciple. Yet evennow he would not have abandoned it at any price; the joy of creationcompensated him richly for suffering and disappointment. Confidence inhis own powers and the final triumph of his conviction had deserted himonly occasionally, and for a few brief hours.

  He was born for conflicts. What ill-success, what antagonism anddifficulties he had encountered! Some day the laurel which had so longadorned the brow of Myrtilus must also grow green for him and thegreat talent whose possession he felt. With the Arachne--he was sure ofthis--he would compel even his opponents to accord him the recognitionfor which hitherto he had striven in vain.

  While pacing restlessly up and down the spacious apartment, stoppingfrom time to time before his work to fix his eyes angrily upon it, hethought of his friend's Demeter, whose head also had Daphne's features,who also bore in her hand a bundle of wheat, and even in attitudedid not differ very widely from his own. And yet--eternal gods!--howthoroughly dissimilar the two were!

  In the figure created by Myrtilus, supernatural dignity blended withthe utmost womanly charm; in his, a pleasing head rested upon a bodyin whose formation he had used various models without striving toaccomplish anything except to depart as far as possible from establishedcustom, with which he was at variance.

  Yet had he not found himself, nevertheless, compelled to follow the oldrules? One arm was raised, the other hung down; the right foot was putforward, the left one back.

  Exactly the same as in Myrtilus's statue, and thousands of other figuresof Demeter!

  If he could have used the hammer and chisel, the thing might have becomemore powerful; but how many things he had had to consider in employingthe accursed gold and ivory upon which Archias obstinately insisted!

  This hammering, chipping, and filing told unfavourably upon his powerand his aspiration toward grandeur.

  This time the battle seemed to be lost.

  It was fortunate that the conqueror was no other than Myrtilus. Oftenas he had gone astray in his young life, many as were the errors he hadcommitted, not even the faintest shadow of an envious feeling concerninghis friend's more successful work had ever stained his soul.

  True, the fact that fate, in addition to such abundant gifts of mindand spirit, had also endowed the latter with great worldly possessions,while he, but for the generosity of his uncle Archias, must havestarved, had often led Hermon to inveigh angrily against the injusticeof the gods. Yet he did not grudge Myrtilus the wealth without which hecould not imagine him, and which his invalid friend needed to continuesuccessfully the struggle against the insidious disease inherited withthe gold. And his sufferings! Hermon could not have endured keener painhad they been his own. He must even rejoice over the poor dear fellow'svictory; for if he, Hermon, succeeded with his Arachne as he hoped, itwould make Myrtilus--he could swear to it--happier than his own triumph.

  After these reflections, which again reminded him of the secondappointment and of Ledscha, the sculptor turned away from his work andwent to the window to look across at Pelican Island, where she must notawait him in vain.

  The boat which was to convey him over to it lay ready in the littleflotilla, where a magnificently equipped galley had just been moored tothe shore, undoubtedly the one that had brought the guests from Pelusiumhither. The best thing he could do was to greet them at once, sharethe banquet with them, and, before the dessert was served, seek thebeautiful woman whom his absence threatened to make his foe. And shewas certainly justified in resenting it if, with cruel lack ofconsideration, he paid no heed to what had been prophesied for her onthis night of the full moon.

  For the first time compassion mingled with his feelings for Ledscha.If to avoid the fleeting censure of aristocratic friends he left in thelurch the simple barbarian maiden who loved him with ardent passion,it was no evidence of resolute strength of soul, but of pitiful,reprehensible weakness. No, no! He must take the nocturnal voyage inorder not to grieve Ledscha.

  Soon after the girl's abrupt departure he dressed himself in festalgarments for the banquet. It would flatter Ledscha also if he went toher in this attire and, with his figure drawn up to its full height, hewalked toward the door to go to the Alexandrian's tent.

  But what did this mean? Myrtilus was standing before his Demeter,scanning it intently with his keen artist eyes. Hermon had not noticedhis entrance, and did not disturb him now, but fixed his gaze upon hismobile features in intense expectation.

  There were few of his fellow-artists whose opinion he valued as highlyas that of this darling of the Muse.

  At a slight shake of the head, which Hermon interpreted as disapproval,he clinched his teeth; but soon his lips relaxed and his
breast heavedwith a sigh of relief, for the sunny glance that Myrtilus bent upon theface of the goddess seemed to show Hermon that it aroused his approval,and, as if relieved from an oppressive nightmare, he approached hisfriend.

  The latter turned toward him, exclaiming: "Daphne! As in the caseof yonder bust, you have succeeded most perfectly with this dearface--only--"

  "Only," Hermon repeated slowly; "I am familiar with that evil word.Doubts knock at the door with it. Out with them honestly. I gave up mylast hope of the prize yesterday while looking at your Demeter. Besides,careful scrutiny has just destroyed the last gleam of satisfaction withmy own work. But if you like the head, what seem to you the greatestdefects in the figure?"

  "It has nothing to do with defects, which, with your rare ability,can scarcely exist," replied the other, the faint pink flush in hisbeardless cheeks deepening to a more vivid hue. "It refers rather tothe expression which you have given the divinity in yonder statue."Here Myrtilus hesitated, and, turning so that he stood face to facewith Hermon, asked frankly, "Did you ever seek the goddess and, when youfound her, did you feel any supernatural power and beauty?"

  "What a question!" exclaimed Hermon in astonishment. "A pupil ofStraton, and go in search of beings and powers whose existence hedenies! What my mother instilled into my heart I lost with my childhood,and you address your question only to the artist who holds his ownground, not to the boy. The power that calls creation to life, andmaintains it, has for me long had nothing in common with those beingslike mortals whom the multitude designates by the name of divinities."

  "I think differently," replied Myrtilus. "While I numbered myself amongthe Epicureans, whose doctrine still possesses the greatest charm forme, I nevertheless shared the master's opinion that it is insulting thegods to suppose that they will disturb their blissful repose for thesake of us insignificant mortals. Now my mind and my experience rebelagainst holding to this view, yet I believe with Epicurus, and with you,that the eternal laws of Nature bow to neither divine nor human will."

  "And yet," said Hermon, "you expect me to trouble myself about those whoare as powerless as myself!"

  "I only wished that you might do so," answered Myrtilus; "for theyare not powerless to those who from the first assumed that they can donothing in opposition to those changeless laws. The state, too, rulesaccording to them, and the wise king who refrains from interfering withthem in the smallest trifle can therefore wield the sceptre with mightypower. So, in my opinion, it is perfectly allowable to expect aid fromthe gods. But we will let that pass. A healthy man, full of exuberantvigour like yourself, rarely learns early what they can bestow insuffering and misfortune; yet where the great majority believe in them,he, too, will be unable to help forming some idea of them; nay, even youand I have experienced it. By a thousand phenomena they force themselvesinto the world which surrounds us and our emotional life. Epicurus, whodenied their power, saw in them at least immortal beings who possessin stainless perfection everything which in mortals is disfigured byerrors, weaknesses, and afflictions. To him they are the intensified,reflected image of our own nature, and I think we can do nothing wiserthan to cling to that, because it shows us to what heights of beauty andpower, intellect, goodness, and purity we may attain. To completely denytheir existence would hardly be possible even for you, because theirpersons have found a place in your imagination. Since this is the case,it can only benefit you to recognise in them magnificent models, bywhose means we artists, if we imitate, perfect, and model them, willcreate works far more sublime and beautiful than anything visible to oursenses which we meet here beneath the sun."

  "It is this very superiority in sublimity and beauty which I, and thosewho pursue the same path with me, oppose," replied Hermon. "Natureis sufficient for us. To take anything from her, mutilates; to addanything, disfigures her."

  "But not," replied Myrtilus firmly, "when it is done only in a specialsense, and within the limits of Nature, to which the gods also belong.The final task of art, fiercely as you and your few followers contendagainst it, lies in the disentanglement, enhancing, and ennobling ofNature. You, too, ought not to overlook it when you undertake to modela Demeter; for she is a goddess, no mortal like yourself. The rest or Iought rather to say the alteration which converts the mortal woman intothe immortal one, the goddess--I miss, and with special regret, becauseyou do not even deem it worth consideration."

  "That I shall never do," retorted Hermon irritably, "so long as it is achanging chimera which presents itself differently to every mind."

  "Yet, should it really be a chimera, it is at any rate a sublime one,"Myrtilus protested, "and whoever among us artists wanders through Naturewith open eyes and heart, and then examines his own soul, will find itworth while to attempt to give his ideal form."

  "Whatever stirs my breast during such walks, unless it is some unusualhuman being, I leave to the poet," replied Hermon. "I should besatisfied with the Demeter yonder, and you, too, probably, if--entirelyapart from that--I had only succeeded fully and entirely in making heran individual--that is, a clearly outlined, distinct personality. This,you have often told me, is just wherein I am usually most successful.But here, I admit, I am baffled. Demeter hovered before me as akindly dispenser of good gifts, a faithful, loving wife. Daphne's headexpresses this; but in modelling the body I lost sight of the wholecreation. While, for instance, in my fig-eater, every toe, every scrapof the tattered garments, belongs to the street urchin whom I wishedto represent, in the goddess everything came by chance as the modelsuggested it, and you know that I used several. Had the Demeter fromhead to foot resembled Daphne, who has so much in common with ourgoddess, the statue would have been harmonious, complete, and you wouldperhaps have been the first to acknowledge it."

  "By no means," Myrtilus eagerly interrupted. "What our statues of thegods are we two know best: a wooden block, covered with gold and sheetsof ivory. But to tens of thousands the statue of the divinity must bemuch more. When they raise their hearts, eyes, hands to it in prayer,they must be possessed by the idea of the deity which animated us whilecreating it, and with which we, as it were, permeated it. If it showsthem only a woman endowed with praiseworthy qualities--"

  "Then," interrupted Hermon, "the worshipper should thank the sculptor;for is it not more profitable to him to be encouraged by the statue toemulate the human virtues whose successful embodiment it shows him thanto strive for the aid of the botchwork of human hands, which possessesas much or as little power as the wood, gold, and ivory that compose it?If the worshipper does not appeal to the statue, but to the goddess, Ifear it will be no less futile. So I shall consider it no blemish if yousee in my Demeter a mortal woman, and no goddess; nay, it reconciles mein some degree to her weaknesses, to which I by no means close my eyes.I, too--I confess it--often feel a great desire to give the power ofimagination greater play, and I know the divinities in whom I have lostfaith as well as any one; for I, too, was once a child, and few haveever prayed to them more fervently, but with the increasing impulsetoward liberty came the perception: There are no gods, and whoever bowsto the power of the immortals makes himself a slave. So what I banishedfrom life I will also remove from art, and model nothing which might notmeet me to-day or to-morrow."

  "Then, as an honest man, abstain altogether from making statues of thegods," interrupted his friend.

  "That was my intention long ago, as you are aware," the other answered.

  "You could not commit a worse robbery upon yourself," cried Myrtilus. "Iknow you; nay, perhaps I see farther into your soul than you yourself.By ingenious fetters you force the mighty winged intellect to contentitself within the narrow world of reality. But the time when you willyourself rend the bonds and find the divinity you have lost, will come,and then, with your mighty power once more free, you will outstrip mostof us, and me also if I live to see it."

  Then he pressed his hand upon his rattling chest and walked slowlyto the couch; but Hermon followed, helped him to lie down, and withaffectionate solicitude arrang
ed his pillows.

  "It is nothing," Myrtilus said soothingly, after a few minutes' silence."My undermined strength has been heavily taxed to-day. The Olympiansknow how calmly I await death. It ends all things. Nothing will be leftof me except the ashes, to which you will reduce my body, and what youcall 'possession.' But even this can no longer belong to me after death,because I shall then be no more, and the idea of possession requires apossessor. My estate, too, is now disposed of. I have just been to thenotary, and sixteen witnesses--neither more nor less--have signed mywill according to the custom of this ceremonious country. There, now,if you please, go before me, and let me stay here alone a little while.Remember me to Daphne and the Pelusinians. I will join you in an hour."